#// we spoil puffs in these parts
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shiroi---kumo ¡ 1 year ago
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So I don't know if this will make sense but I generally don't draw White Cloud as in the stock generic character from FFU. I draw Valkoinen Pilvi - my beloved muse and puffle boy.
Therefore I tend to draw him in all kinds of different outfits and not just his standard canon clothing, because this puff has wants and I tend to give him what he wants.
So outfits I have drawn Puff in that are not canon thus far are:
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Whatever he demands of me, he gets and I promise there will be more fun outfits and flowy dresses in the future. I have a whole folder of clothing references for things he says he likes.
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ahqkas ¡ 1 month ago
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“HE MOVES MOUNTAINS AND POUNDS THEM TO GROUND AGAIN — bruce wayne.
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PAIRING! bruce wayne 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS! bruce likes to spoil you, especially during christmas WORD COUNT! 3.4k WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, bruce ‘let me spoil my girl’ wayne + lmk if more! NOTES! wanna be spoiled by a rich guy sb , header bellow belongs to @/v6que © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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THE STREETS OF GOTHAM, OFTEN SO COLD AND CRUEL WERE CHANGED UNDER THE FIRST TRUE SNOWFALL OF THE SEASON. Blankets of pristine white coated the rooftops, softening the jagged skyline into something almost whimsical. The sidewalks were a patchwork of footprints and slush, as bustling crowds meandered through the early morning chill. Each breath of air carried the scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby stand, mingling with the crisp bite of snow.
Children’s laughter rang out in bursts, slicing through the muffled quiet that came with the falling flakes. A group of them had gathered at the corner of Robinson Park, throwing handfuls of powdery snow at one another while some tilted their heads back, tongues outstretched, hoping to catch a flake or two. Their squeals of delight painted the city in a light Gotham rarely allowed itself to wear.
Storefronts glowed with soft, twinkling lights, festive decorations hanging from doorways and window displays dressed in shimmering reds and golds. Every shop seemed to beckon, promising warm escapes and holiday cheer, from tiny mom-and-pop bookstores to designer boutiques with mannequins posed elegantly in the latest winter fashion. Salvation Army bells jingled near donation buckets, blending with the soft hum of carolers just off the main avenue.
The energy was infectious—families strolled arm in arm, couples leaned into one another for warmth, and even the loneliest passerby seemed to walk with a lighter step.
Christmas was approaching.
That was how you found yourself walking arm in arm with Bruce, the world narrowing to the warmth of his presence beside you despite the winter chill. His grip on your arm was steady and sure, his hand a comforting weight where it rested over yours. Even through your gloves, you could feel the faintest trace of his warmth, a contrast to the icy air that kissed you cheeks.
He guided you effortlessly through the busy crowd of people, and his towering frame acted as an anchor amidst the chaos. You noticed the way heads turned, how people instinctively parted to let him through—not just because he was Bruce Wayne, the name that commanded attention, but because he carried himself with a quiet, natural authority. Still, his touch on your arm was gentle, not hurried, as though he had no place to be except here with you.
“Do you think it’s going to stick?” you asked, nodding toward the layer of snow coating the rooftops and trees. Your breath slipped through your lips in visible puffs.
Bruce glanced skyward, his eyes softening in the glow of string lights overhead. “It’s Gotham,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. “The snow never lasts long. But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it while it’s here.”
There was something so rare about seeing him like this—relaxed, his usual sharp focus softened by the holiday atmosphere. His other hand reached up briefly, brushing a stray snowflake from her your before it could melt, his touch so natural it made your heart stutter. “You’ll let me know if you’re getting cold, won’t you?” he added, his gaze flickering down to you, concern laced in his words.
You tilted your head, a playful smirk curving your lips as you glanced up at him. “I’m fine, Bruce. I’ve survived Gotham winters before.”
The words were teasing, but when he looked down at you with that gentle, pointed expression—his brow slightly furrowed, lips tight with that quiet intensity—you felt the weight of it, as always. It was as if he could see through you, straight into your heart, expecting an answer more than just your usual wit. He always wanted to hear it. A simple reassurance, whether you were okay in his arms after a quality night with him or sharing a quiet moment in the middle of the city’s frenzy.
Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the teasing edge fading into something more genuine. “I’m okay,” you assured him quietly, words a whisper that seemed to linger in the cold air between the two of you. “Really.”
Bruce’s expression softened, but there was still that hint of concern in his eyes, the faintest crease in his brow. His lips parted for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I know you are,” he admitted. “But I like hearing it anyway.”
Your heart fluttered, and you gave him a soft, affectionate smile before he shifted his attention. Bruce pulled his phone from the pocket of his coat, the sleek device easily fitting in his hand, and he flicked through it with practiced ease. The light from the screen cast a subtle glow across his sharp features, revealing the concentration as he scanned his list.
“Alright,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Alfred’s gifts—need to pick up something special for him . . . then there’s Damian, Dick . . . Jason . . . oh, and Tim.” He paused, scrolling through the notes app, his brow furrowing just a little as he went over his meticulous list of people to buy for. “It’s harder than it sounds—every one of them has something they’ll really like.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the contrast between his usual effortless decisiveness and the almost comical way he planned out every detail. It was such a Bruce thing to do, and yet it was endearing in its own right. “It’s just shopping, Bruce,” you teased. “You’ve got enough money to buy Gotham if you really wanted. Just get them whatever’s shiny and expensive.”
He shot you a glance, lips quirking into a barely-there smile. “Not for them,” he replied, voice thoughtful. “They’re not impressed by the shiny stuff. I want to get something meaningful, even if they act like they don’t care.”
Your teasing smile faded into something softer, touched by the sincerity in his words. He was always thoughtful, always careful, and it was something you’d grown to admire more than anything else. But you still had to comment, your voice light again to keep things from becoming too serious.
“Alright then,” you said with the twinkle in your eyes Bruce adored to see, “just don’t forget the part where you buy me something too. You know, for the ‘special girl’ in your life?”
The man gave you a look, not quite amused but not entirely serious either, his fingers scrolling on his phone as he half-listened. “Of course. You’re on the list, don’t worry.”
The way he said it, though, with that glimmer of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, let you know he was absolutely serious with it. And you knew, in his own quiet, understated way, Bruce would spoil you just as much—if not more—than anyone else.
As you continued in your stroll down the street, the quiet chatter of the crowd around thr two of you felt like distant noise, a soft hum that blurred into the background as your gaze drifted to one of the storefront windows. Nestled in the corner of the display was a delicate bracelet—its silver links shimmering beneath the soft glow of the shop’s warm lights. Each facet of the small diamonds glistened, catching the light just right, creating a mesmerizing sparkle that seemed to draw you in without you even realizing it.
Your heart skipped a beat as you took a step closer, breath caught in your throat as you admired the elegance of the piece. It was everything you loved—simple, yet exquisite, with just the right amount of subtle luxury. You could already imagine it on your wrist, the way it would catch the light, how it would complement the delicate necklace you wore around your neck. But, of course, you couldn’t be too obvious.
You quickly forced your feet to move, pulling your gaze away with an almost guilty glance toward Bruce. You could feel the warmth of his presence beside you, and you tried your best not to linger too long, not wanting him to see the longing in your eyes. It wasn’t like you wanted him to buy it for you—you weren’t the type to ask for extravagant things—but the thought of having something so beautiful . . . well, it made your heart ache just a little.
But of course, Bruce noticed.
He always did.
Without skipping a beat, he slowed his pace to match yours, his sharp eyes flicking toward the window where you had just stopped. He said nothing at first, but his gaze was keen, taking in the way your attention had been captured by the bracelet. It didn’t take much to read the silent longing in your eyes, and though he didn’t say a word, his lips twitched upward in that knowing, almost amused way he often did when he could see through you better than you could see yourself.
“Something catched your eye?”
You turned to face him, offering a quick, almost embarrassed smile. “Oh, it’s nothing, really,” you waved a hand dismissively, though you couldn’t quite hide the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “Just . . . admiring.”
Bruce tilted his head slightly, as if debating whether to push you further or let it slide, but his gaze never left yours for a moment. “You know,” he started, his voice low, with a hint of amusement. He was enjoying the moment. “I’m pretty sure I could arrange for that bracelet to be . . . yours, if you really like it.”
Your heart skipped again, and you couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound was breathless. “Bruce, you don’t—”
“Don’t what?” he interrupted, his gaze flicking back to the bracelet. “You deserve something beautiful.”
You met his eyes, a warmth blossoming in your chest at the way he spoke so naturally, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. You didn’t need to ask. He’d already thought it through, already seen something you hadn’t even let yourself admit.
Bruce, as always, seemed to be one step ahead of her.
Before you could protest, he gave your hand a gentle but firm tug, guiding you toward the shop entrance with a determined stride. Your protests, half-hearted as they were, barely made it past your lips before you found yourself caught in his wake.
“I don’t think I need anything,” you started, but the words felt flimsy as he nudged open the door for you to enter first, the warm air from inside the shop spilling out like an invitation. The shop was just as elegant as the bracelet itself, filled with gleaming displays of luxury and an array of fine jewelry that made your eyes sparkle. Even the air smelled faintly of polished wood and expensive perfumes, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place in your cozy winter coat compared to the sleek interior.
Bruce, however, seemed perfectly at home.
He was already scanning the shelves with the kind of focus he reserved for planning an important mission, his eyes darting between the glimmering items like a child in a candy store. “What do you think of this?” he asked, pointing to a necklace encrusted with gorgeous diamonds, its center stone a vivid shade of sapphire. “Or this?” His finger then hovered over a ring so opulent it seemed to catch the light from every angle, a stunning emerald set in platinum, polished to perfection. “I’m sure you’d look incredible in this one.”
You had to laugh, despite yourself. “Bruce, they’re beautiful, but I don’t need anything like that,” you said, trying your best to steer him toward a less extravagant choice. You couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by how effortless he made it look—like money was a toy for him, to be spent and discarded without a second thought. But you weren’t that girl. You didn’t need diamonds and gold to know he cared.
Bruce merely glanced at you, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’m not saying you need it,” he explained with a knowing glance, “but you deserve it. Every piece in here, and more.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through you at his words. “I’m really fine with just looking.”
Yet, his hand never wavered as he pointed again—this time toward the stunning bracelet you eyed earlier, a sleek chain with delicate diamonds set into its links, glistening under the shop’s overhead lights. “What about this one?” he asked, voice smooth and persuasive, as though he knew exactly you would choose this one. “It would go so well with the necklace you already wear.”
Oh, he knew you so well.
Your breath caught for a moment. There it was—the same bracelet you’d seen outside, now glowing with the same captivating brilliance up close. You felt your resolve falter, but you quickly steadied yourself. “Bruce, it’s beautiful, but—”
He cut you off, his voice warm but insistent. “I know what you’re thinking, but I can tell you right now, it’s not too much. Not for you.” His gaze softened as he met your eyes, almost pleading with a subtle intensity that you couldn’t ignore. “Let me spoil you, sweet girl, just a little. You’ve earned it.”
You swallowed, your cheeks warming up with emotion at the sincerity in his words. It wasn’t the extravagant pieces he had pointed to earlier that made your heart swell; it was the thought behind it all. He was offering what you had always dreamed of—the luxury, the feeling of being cared for so much that it made you almost melt.
“Bruce, really,” you tried again, voice softer, more vulnerable now. “I don’t need any of this.”
But his eyes, dark and unwavering, held yours, and you knew—he was determined. And deep down, you knew there was no way to say no.
Your words hung in the air for a moment as you smiled sheepishly, trying to ease the tension you could feel building between them. “I was just window shopping. I wasn’t planning on buying anything. It’s just . . . pretty to look at, that’s all.”
But when Bruce’s expression shifted—eyes narrowing ever so slightly, lips pressing into a thin line—you instantly knew you had made a mistake. His posture straightened, his gaze hardening in that way you knew too well. It wasn’t anger, exactly, but something else—something deeper, like he’d just been presented with an insult he hadn’t expected.
“You were just window shopping?” His voice was soft, but there was a steel edge to it now, one that told you he wasn’t pleased with the idea of you limiting yourself to just looking. “With me?”
For a moment, you were silent, surprised by the strength of his reaction. It almost felt like he’d been wounded, as if the idea of you standing in front of something so beautiful—something you deserved—without actually taking it, was too much for him to bear. The hint of disappointment in his voice caught you off guard, a realization dawning on you that you’d underestimated him again.
“Bruce,” you started, your tone softer now, trying to piece together the right words. “It’s not that I didn’t want it . . . I just didn’t want you to—”
He shook his head, cutting you off gently. “No. You don’t just window shop when you’re with me, sweetheart. Not for things like this. You see something you like, you take it. And I’ll make sure you get it.”
You opened your mouth to protest again, but the gentle cut-off from him stilled the words before they could escape. And before you could even process the shift, his fingers were already moving—sliding his sleek black card from his wallet with an ease you had come to expect, but it still made your heart flutter every time he did it.
The sound of the card swiping against the boutique’s terminal felt like a soft crack of thunder in the quiet of the shop, and the realization you her all at once—he wasn’t just offering to buy you the bracelet. He was already doing it.
The cashier smiled warmly, already taking the sleek black card and ringing up the bracelet. The sparkle of the diamonds under the soft shop lighting seemed to mock your hesitation, making the choice you had avoided all along suddenly seem inevitable. Your gaze flicked from the bracelet to the man who liked spoiling you a little too much, then back again, your chest tightening with a swirl of emotions.
Bruce caught your eye, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t take no for an answer when it comes to you,” he murmured quietly, his words soft but sure, as though the decision had been made the moment he saw you admiring the piece. “You deserve to have everything you want.”
“I . . . I didn’t want to feel like I was asking too much,” you admitted softly to him, fingers lightly brushing the delicate fabric of your scarf.
He stepped closer and his voice lowered just for you, the softness of it carrying a weight that made your cheeks warm up. “Sweetheart, you’re not asking for anything. You’re not asking too much. You never have to. Let me spoil you, let me take care of you.”
Before you could give him a response, the cashier handed him the small box containing the bracelet, wrapped with a care that only seemed to make it more precious.
“Enjoy the holidays, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Bruce turned to you then, the box resting in his hand, his dark eyes fixed on you with an almost expectant look.
“Go ahead,” he urged, his voice soft but firm, “Try it on. It’s yours just like I said it would be.”
Your fingers hovered over the delicate box, the weight of Bruce’s words lingering in the air like a soft promise. You opened it slowly, almost reverently, and your breath caught in your throat as you saw the bracelet in its full brilliance for the first time up close. The diamonds caught the light, glinting like tiny stars, each one reflecting a different facet of the warmth you felt deep inside. It was beautiful, in a way that made you feel a little lightheaded, and as you slipped it onto your wrist, you couldn’t help but glance up at Bruce, who was watching you with an almost proud smile.
“It’s perfect.”
Bruce’s eyes softened with something close to satisfaction, but the teasing smirk tugging at his lips was unmistakable. “I told you it would be,” he said, his voice rich with affection—and something else, something playful that you knew all too well.
You smiled, reaching up to adjust the bracelet slightly, the delicate metal cool against your skin. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually buy it, though,” you admitted, still a little embarrassed by the extravagance of it all. “You could’ve just let me keep window shopping.”
“Window shopping, huh?” He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “You’re with me now. Window shopping isn’t a thing, sweetheart. Not for you. You deserve more than that.”
You laughed, shaking your head, but before you could say anything else, Bruce’s voice turned more teasing, that mischievous edge creeping back in. “Although,” he began, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something more, “now that you have that beautiful bracelet, I wonder what else you might need. I’m sure there are plenty of other lovely things out there for you. More necklaces? Maybe some earrings? Or,” he paused dramatically, looking you up and down with a grin, “how about a whole set?”
You rolled her eyes, half-amused and half-embarrassed by the thought of being so utterly spoiled. “Bruce, I don’t need a whole set.”
“Oh, but I insist,” he teased, his smile widening. “There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to you. I’d spoil you rotten if I could.”
You could hear the amusement in his voice, but there was a layer of genuine affection beneath it all. It was the way he looked at you, the way he spoke—like you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and nothing was too much to give.
For a moment, you let yourself bask in the warmth of that feeling, your new bracelet gleaming against your wrist, a symbol not just of his generosity but of something much deeper—the connection the two of you shared. “You’re impossible,” you laughed softly, but there was no real heat in your words. Only affection, and the quiet joy of being loved in a way you’d never quite expected.
Bruce’s smile softened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low and sincere. “I’m not impossible, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.”
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint ¡ 5 months ago
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Platonic Yandere Queen Step Sister
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She wasn’t always a queen 
Like every queen before she was a princess
But before she was a princess she was a count from a low-class duchy
Her mother had found your father
Old, ill, and enticed by the countess willing to entertain him
The countess herself wasn’t awful
She was civil, for the most part the only problem with her was her daughter
“And this is your new sister—Harley! Say hello!”
“Hmph just because your Dad’s the King doesn’t mean I have to like you!”
“Harley!”
Harley was a menace
Snooty and rude
Every time she spoke to you it was like liquid acid spraying specifically at you
She was typically spoiled but she never mistreated the servants 
She was decent to your father 
But to you, it was like she hated your guts from the very beginning
“I’m glad I spilled all that cranberry juice on you! The little outfit you were wearing before matched your ugliness a bit too well.”
“That was a gift from my late mother!”
“Hm figures.”
Of course in turn you hate her too
And you don’t bother hiding it from your father when he weakly asks you to hang out with her
“Did you hear what she said to me? I honestly couldn’t care less if that horse she spooked stomped her flat.”
“(Y/n)! Hold your tongue, she’s your new sister.”
“She might be your daughter but that thing is not my sister.”
He doesn’t seem convinced as he continues putting you together with her in hopes it will strengthen your bond
It does not
And it will never be as your father succumbs to his illness
Naturally, you prepare to take on the throne despite your young age
But alas nothing goes the way it should since she’s been forced into your life
“As the former partner of the King, I gladly will take up the role until our child is ready.”
It’s infuriating as the advisor reads a part in his newly written will about this
How he ordained that his second wife have you in her care and the kingdom in her control
And of course decency dwindles as she becomes drunk on the social power
Fueling her gremlin of a daughter
“Mother’s forbidden you from leaving your room. So I figured I’d give you some of my company! You're welcome.”
“Go jump out the window.”
“How dare–MOM!”
It just gets worse and worse
You do think for a moment things will get better as The substitute Queen keels over her wine at a banquet
Thanking the heavens for whoever poisoned her, you’re prepared to take the throne
“I am so sorry (Y/n) but the council has ruled that for your safety as the kingdom’s only true heir, it’d be dangerous to let you take the throne. So we’ll give the role of Queen to Harley.”
It takes you everything not to stab the brat as she puffs her chest and flips her hair
“Won’t you congratulate me on my coronation!”
It’s agony that ripples under your skin as you have no choice but to flee the castle grounds to escape her stabbing presence and that only works for a day at most
With her mother no longer ruling she isn’t forced to take etiquette lessons away from you
Now she can demand your attendance for any minor meeting
“I don’t think we should mobilize our militia on that border. It’s far too much of an overreaction.”
“What about the villages that have been burned there? The people who need medical attention?”
“Hush (Y/n) I didn’t say you could talk in this meeting.”
It's all so frustrating feeling trapped
But you’re not the only one 
Harley is incredibly frustrated because of what keeps her trapped
And that’s her inability to say anything that she truly means
Especially with manners of the heart
Underneath layers of cruel insults, stifling rules, and personal jabs 
Is a step-sister who adores your very being but is stuck with her thorny exterior
She is forced to stick her nose up and sneer at you when you look her direction
When she’ll say “You look like death with the new family brooch. You might do better to just leave it off.”
What she means “I think you look even more gorgeous than usual with the family brooch, don’t ever take it off.”
If she wasn’t as backward demented as she was it probably wouldn’t be so hard to try being nice
To switch her compliments to insults for just a day to give you a kind compliment
But she hates actually making it so that
Naturally, this is why she killed her mother
She’d gotten in the way of her free time with you 
On top of looking down on you which she absolutely hates the most
Granted she’s certain you hate her with how much time she spends attempting to bring you down expressing her affection the only way she can
Sometimes she’s tempted to put it in writing 
just explain her condition so that she can jump into your arms as you connect the dots
But every time she’d written something out, she couldn’t help but confess how obsessed she was with you 
How happy she was that her whole job now was protecting you
She wasn’t exactly fond of the kingdom other than it being an inheritance for you
She hopes you’ll forgive her as she’ll  prioritize you and your safety above all else
No one but your father’s trusted advisor may see past her biting personality
Convinced with the council that it’s best to have her temporarily rule
If only until they get to the bottom of both the King and the Queen’s deaths
Should any council member question her or her motives 
she’d be quick to shut that down
She can’t have these old nobles get in the way of her dominion over you
“I hope you enjoy the joys of being accused of fraud. It’ll be nice to look back on your time when on the council when you’re rotting in jail.”
She has no mercy for anyone but you
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starsofang ¡ 8 months ago
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Change of Heart
hitman!simon x f!reader / part 7
previous part
tw: NSFW, MDNI, don't wanna spoil but just be aware!
When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.
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Good things don’t last. And both you and Simon were about to have a cruel reminder.
Simon stuck around after the two of you had shared the intimacy of a kiss. He didn’t let it go farther than just that, and neither did you. In fact, the rest of his time spent cooped up in your apartment was rather quiet and calming, despite the events that had taken place.
There was still fresh blood on his hands. He had let Ghost take over his senses and consume him in a blind rage, only to return to you as Simon, rage simmering into a flutter of calm. 
Simon felt like he was lying to you. And truthfully, part of him was. You didn’t know about the realness of his job or what he did. You didn’t see the knives he embedded in unexpecting men and women, or the droplets of powdered poison slipped into their glasses at parties. You were blissfully unaware of the true nature of his being.
Simon couldn’t exist without Ghost, but Ghost could certainly thrive without Simon.
Ghost could also live without you. No – he’d have to live without you, at some point. Simon just didn’t want to.
He was being selfish and he knew it. He was taking advantage of a woman who had no business being involved with him, yet his heart was unable to let you go and finish the job, the job he’s always been destined to do until death did he part.
Simon had been lying to you, and now, all of it was crumbling down on him.
Price’s text stared back at him from the brightness of his phone screen. It was like staring into the eyes of death, causing his chest to fill with a sickening tightness that made it hard to breathe.
“We need to talk. You know where to meet me.”
So he left you. He made sure you were fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, sheets pulled up to your ears, and he selfishly allowed himself a minute to stare down at your snoozing figure. So peaceful, you were, eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanning beautifully across the tops of your cheeks. Your mouth was parted with puffs of air exhaling from your lips, ones he had pressed kiss after kiss against the night before.
Selfish.
The streets were busy as he walked, yet the impending doom that hung over him like a storm cloud muted the sounds and circled him in a bubble. He didn’t hear the chatter of people passing by, nor the cars that revved and honked from the roads beside him.
It was a cruel silence as he went, like his mind was shutting down all aspects of life in a cruel reminder of the ones he’d taken away.
Price resided in a remote apartment complex, one that showed just how much he worked for what he did. Killing people, just like him, but taking on a role on the side of watching over him as well as Gaz and Soap. Brothers they were, all of them, and now Simon feared he was fucking up the dynamic by being greedy.
“Ghost,” Price greeted as he opened the door. Simon gave him a curt nod and entered the residence, following behind Price.
The man in question was silent when he made way to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. He offered Simon none in return, and Simon knew it was his subtle way of showing disappointment.
“Let’s chat,” Price mused, gesturing with a hand for Simon to join him in the living room.
Simon sat with his fists on his knees, back straight as a board, as Price sat in front of him in a much more relaxed state, leaning back and resting an ankle on his knee. He sipped at the tea, eyes boring into Simon’s.
“You fucked up, Simon.” Straight and blunt, cutting right to the chase. It stuck into Simon like a bee sting. “Killin’ a man outside of a job. Killin’ him of your own free will.”
Graves. The memory of his body, stabbed ruthlessly in his kitchen, his blood puddling the floor in a red mess, staining Simon’s skin an ugly crimson that he spent lifetimes scrubbing off. Mutilated, mangled, completely unrecognizable, all from Ghost’s doing.
“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” Price roared, displaying the layered frustration he had kept abay up until now. “This is your job, Simon, our job. You kill to get paid, not kill for your own pleasure.”
“I know.”
“You know, and still did it.”
“I fucked up.”
“Damn right you fucked up, Simon,” Price sneered. He stared at Simon with a look of anger, before it simmered down to one of muted frustration, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He pressed his fingers to his eyes, squeezing them shut, before dropping his hand back down. “You need to let her go.”
“Who?” Simon asked, and Price scoffed.
“Don’t be coy. Gaz told me everythin’. Had Soap follow you around when you killed that Graves guy, saw you go back to your little bird’s place. You know who I’m talkin’ about.”
Fuck.
He’d been sloppy, all because of you. Simon never, in all his time of being a hitman, missed the feeling of watching eyes following him around. He never missed the hairs on the back of his neck standing up at the feeling of something or someone watching, observing, never missed the shiver running down his spine in a cold chill.
“This isn’t a fuckin’ game, Simon–”
“I know–”
“--yet you’re playin’ it like it is. This is a civilian’s life we’re talkin’ about, and not only did you kill Graves without payment, but you haven’t clipped your damn bird of her wings like she wants.”
Every single word was a harsh slap to the face, and Simon hated to admit that Price was right. He had rejected the job offer you’d given him from the very beginning. You wanted to die, you wanted to seek safe haven, yet he took that away from you. He wanted to save you, wanted to show you that life had meaning in its own ways, yet where were his reasons to stay?
Simon was a fucking hypocrite. Both to you, and himself.
“You know what you have to do, Simon.”
Simon stared at Price with eyes narrowed in confusion. He studied the firm lines that littered Price’s face, the way his mouth tugged into a frown, nearly covered by his facial hair. The tea he nursed was now growing cold in the presence of his lap, one hand curled around the handle with a white-knuckled grip.
“You can’t possibly ask me to do that,” Simon scoffed.
“I am, and I will. You either let her go and forget she exists, or you kill her off like you were intended to do in the first place. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll have Soap do it. Your choice.”
Price was giving Simon an option, though really, it wasn’t a choice at all. Either way, Simon would lose you, and he’d be forced to toss you aside like worthless garbage, or be forced to see the life drain from your eyes.
He fucked up, big time. He shouldn’t have brought this upon you. How selfish could he be?
Ghost was the person he was destined to be. Ghost was who he truly was. Up until he met you, he was content with that. He was the best of the best, and performed his job like it was a mundane task. Simple. Easy.
You slowed him down. You broke down the walls he’d so carefully built, brick by brick, all because you were a direct clone of who he used to be before he tread down this path of sinful bloodshed. He was an idiot to think he could have you without suffering the repercussions.
You didn’t deserve that, nor did you deserve a man like him – so broken and bruised, his heart too shattered to glue back together, not even by the tenderness of your own hands.
Maybe death really was the best ending for you. But Simon was a greedy bastard and couldn’t allow a world to spin without a piece of you occupying it.
“I’ll let her go,” he finally agreed. His tongue felt as if it were sharp as knives, slicing the gums of his mouth open with every word. Metallic saliva coated his tongue, filling his mouth with vials of blood. “I’ll cut off contact. Erase her number, forget she existed, so long as you don’t lay a hand on her.”
Price stared at him with an unreadable look. It was like he was pondering, examining, trying to crawl his way into Simon’s little mind and take a gander on what he was thinking. It was intrusive, invasive, and Simon looked away.
“She knows too much,” Price replied, tone much softer and sympathetic than before. “None of us want to hurt her, and her bein’ involved will only risk her safety. I’m happy you found somebody, Simon, I am. But you knew what you were gettin’ into. We can’t fraternize with the innocent, or else somebody else will just end up killin’ her instead of us.”
Simon scowled beneath his mask, crossing his arms over his chest in a defense mechanism. He didn’t want to admit that once again, Price was right, and Simon would’ve been the asshole that would’ve eventually gotten you killed or hurt.
Good things weren’t meant for people like him. You weren’t meant for people like him.
You were a flower in a blooming field of color, while he was the parasite that ate away at your soft petals.
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Simon left Price’s with a sour taste in his mouth. It was bile rising in his throat and threatening to combust. It tainted his tongue with sickening acid, and no matter how much he tried to swallow it down, it grew stronger.
He lost track of how long he’d stared down at the messages on his phone, all from you.
“Hey, Si! Where’d you go?”
“Tell me when you have to leave for a job next time, dummy.”
“I’ll pick up some food for you later when you come by!”
Every message was a slice in the arteries of his heart. It filled him with aching pain, one nothing could ever smooth over. You were the bandages that held him together, and what was he? The bastard who took advantage.
He couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t click the block button on your contact, he couldn’t walk away like he should. Not without seeing you one more time – because that’s all he was. Selfish, selfish, selfish, a word that echoed in his mind on repeat like an irritating buzz.
Simon’s legs moved on their own accord, already mapping out the path towards your apartment. He knew you’d be home, he knew you were waiting for him to return like normal for his nightly endeavors in your presence.
He moved in earnest, strides long and swift, passing by people on the street without a second thought. He kept his eyes trained forward, not letting a single distraction stop him from seeing you.
Just one goodbye. That’s all he needed.
Making it to the front of your door, he found himself slamming his fist along it, the booming knock filling the hallway. He never knocked, it wasn’t his thing, yet here he was, mind so cloudy that it was the first thing he thought to do.
When the door opened and he saw your ruffled expression, he released a sharp exhale, one he thinks he’d been holding the entire run here. His chest visibly relaxed, shoulders slouching, hand dropping to his side once the door was tugged away from his knocking.
“Simon?” you asked, lifting a hand up to grab hold of his shoulder in attempts to keep him steady while he caught his breath. “You– are you okay?”
“I–” he sputtered, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Simon stared at you before pushing his way into your apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it up tight.
Millions of thoughts raced around his head, and all of them revolved around you. Not a single thought went unnoticed by your being, and they fluttered around anxiously, like butterflies rapidly flapping their wings and crossing over one another.
“Simon,” you called out again, and he snapped his head to look over at you. Your face was filled with concern, eyebrows pulled together, lips pressed in a thin line. His eyes shifted down, watching the way you frowned. Even when you were taut up tight, you still made him feel dizzy at the sight of you.
Simon’s body moved on its own accord. It was like he lost complete control, instincts taking over.
He tugged off his mask in a frenzy, letting it fall to the floor, before he surged towards you and took your lips in his. The kiss was feverish, desperate. It had your body jolting backwards at the sheer force of it, but when you regained your composure, you quickly fell into his kiss like a helpless puddle of goo.
Limbs entangled with one another, his arms bracketing around your waist and holding you as if letting go would cause you to disappear forever. Your chest was pressed flush against him, leaving you no room to wiggle out, but you melted into him with ease, uncaring of the sudden display of need.
It was dizzying, staggering. It left your mind a fumbled mess.
“Si–” you attempted to croak, word getting cut off as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetheart,” he breathed, nuzzling his face into the span of your jaw, lips brushing faintly against the skin. “I just need you. Please.”
You sucked in a shaky breath, hand coming up to tangle in the short locks of hair on his head. They were soft against your palm, and you smoothed them down.
“How–?”
“All of you. Please, sweetheart, just– you trust me, right?”
Selfish.
“Of course,” you mused. You felt him smile against your neck.
“Then please.”
“...Okay, Simon,” you whispered, because how could you deny the very man who did nothing but care for you to his best ability? Who saved you when nobody else was there to pick up the pieces and mend you together with the craftiness of their hands? “Okay.”
Simon breathed a heavy sigh of relief before pressing needy kisses along the expanse of your throat. Your head lolled to the side to allow him more access, mouth parting to release quiet gasps of surprise.
Every movement of his was unlike anything he’d done. He was always so calculated, so accurate and careful, yet this time, he was sloppy and unsystematic. It was as if he were only allowing his mind to take over, rather than logistics and realism.
The two of you moved in a clumsy dance, with him guiding you back towards the space of your bedroom with his arms unwavering around you and his lips continuing a messy attack on your neck. When you somehow made it past the door frame and into the comforting safe haven of your bedroom, his hands slipped down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head in a hurry.
“Is everything okay, Simon?” you asked worriedly, and he smiled at you, a tinge of sadness lingering at the back of his pupils.
“Just want to spend time with my pretty girl. Can I do that, sweetheart?”
You blinked at him when his hands came to a standstill against your hips, thumbs lightly brushing over the supple skin. His expression was so soft, one he only reserved for you and nobody else. The lines along his face were smoothened into a tender look, and you couldn’t help but admire it with a smile.
“You always can,” you assured, missing the way Simon winced.
Simon rushed forward once again, and your mouths met in an uncoordinated mess of teeth and tongue. It was hot and heavy, demanding and eager, and it showed in the way he lightly pushed you back to rest on your bed.
One of his hands pressed into the mattress next to your head while the other glossed over your side, cold fingertips causing goosebumps to rise. You shuddered, resting your own hands on each side of his jaw, tangling yourself and getting thrown into his web of affection.
“Wanna touch you,” he rasped, fingers sliding down to the hem of the pajama shorts you had yet to change out of, toying with it but not daring to pry until your say so. “Please.”
You sucked in a breath before promptly nodding, and that was all he needed to slip his fingers past the waistband, dipping his fingers into the warmth of your cunt. He was greeted with sweet wetness, and he let out a quiet groan into the curve of your neck, pressing a messy kiss there.
The pads of his fingers scooped up a bit of your slick like candied nectar, before rolling it around your clit, causing your legs to jolt in surprise. Air filled your lungs, burning at the expanding of your chest, before being released in a blissful form of a sigh, eyes fluttering up at him.
“M’gonna take care of you, sweetheart, I promise,” he murmured against your neck.
Simon’s fingers continued to toy at your clit with a feverish motion, circling at a messy pace. It wasn’t steady, but it didn’t matter – it felt good, and it brought butterflies to swarm in your stomach, blooming at the newfound feeling.
He was so gentle in the way he treated you, yet balanced it out with subtle desperation that had your toes curling as he worked wonders against your cunt. He’d circle your clit, before dipping down to tease at the wetness that sopped out of your hole, just to slide back up to continue the torturous prodding against your sensitive nub.
“Fuck, Simon,” you breathed, voice cracking.
“Yeah?” he hummed, his voice laced with sultry sweetness to it. “That okay, pretty girl? Wanna ruin you, fuck.”
“Please,” you pleaded, and the shakiness in your tone had him kissing you once before sliding his lips down. His fingers slipped out of your shorts, and before you could protest, they tugged down the fabric, soft against your legs, before he dropped them on the floor.
His hands gently spread your legs, and without a single hint of warning, you felt the warmth of his tongue press flat against your clit while his finger eased inside of you. Stars burst behind your eyes and you let out a strangled noise, hand frantically grasping on to his hair and gripping.
It was like the heavens were opening in the clouds above, shining warm rays of light all over you and heating you up from the inside. It was a delicious feeling, the way he sucked and slobbered all over your cunt like a man on a mission, his finger fucking inside of you with earnest.
Messy sounds filled the room combined with your pitiful whimpers and gasps of his name, and they only egged him on further.
If this was the last time he’d ever see you, he’d make it count. Your pleasure was his, and nothing else mattered.
One finger quickly became two, and he created a rhythm between fucking you with his fingers and swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. The stimulation had you keening, already teetering on the edge of insanity. Your mind was blank and void of anything but moans of Simon’s name.
“Come on, pretty girl,” he breathed into your cunt, making you whine. “Come on. Cum on my fingers, know you can.”
His voice sent vibrations straight through your body, and your back arched with a wail, thighs clamping around his head in a death grip. They shook with the aftershocks of your climax, but that didn’t stop him from swallowing down every bit of you until it became too much.
He only released you when your fingers tugged on his hair, and when he sat back, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Simon smiled at you, eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, pouring over with nothing short of admiration and awe.
You laid on the bed, breathless and sated, a sheen of sweat covering the expanse of your skin. It glimmered in the dim light of your room, and he pressed delicate kisses along the salty sweetness, making his way up your body.
“So good, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Told you m’gonna take care of you.”
You could nothing but nod dumbly, eyes half lidded as you watched him reach down between your two bodies to fiddle with the buckle of his pants. It clanged together, filling the air with glimpses of what was to come next, and when he got it undone, he wasted no time in tugging them down until he was bare from the waist down.
The sight was beautiful. His cock was hot and heavy between his legs, a slight shine over the flushed tip from precum, and you felt your mouth begin to water.
This was Simon in all of his glory, and only you had been the lucky one to see it. What an honor.
“So pretty,” Simon breathed, causing your gaze to snap up from his cock and to his face. His mouth was parted as his large hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily while he looked at you. His breath fanned over your mouth from the close proximity. “So beautiful. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”
Your mind turned to mush at his words. You squirmed against the bed sheets, shyly looking away from him. His free hand came up to gently grasp your jaw, drawing you back to look at him, and his smile knocked the wind out of you.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he repeated, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.
The feeling of the head of his cock lining up with your entrance had you gasping into his mouth, and he smiled against you, eyes unwavering from yours as he stretched you open.
It was an ecstatic feeling, one that filled you to the brim with elation. It burned inside of you with flickering flames of want.
He continued to push, and push, until he was flush with you, fully seated inside of your warm, slippery heat. There was a scratch that only Simon could itch, and he knew this. It was why when he began to move inside of you, he started off slow before burrowing into a needy pace filled with smothering desire.
Simon rested his forearms on each side of your head, hovering over you while his hips snapped into you, greedily taking everything you had to offer. It sent you into a puddled mess, mouth hung open as throaty moans escaped every time he took more and more. Your fingernails dug into his biceps, grounding yourself as much as you could with the way your body jolted back and forth from the force of him fucking you.
Fucking? Is that what it was? It felt much more meaningful than that. Simon kissed you with sentiment, thrust into you with aching longingness, praised you like a goddess in the sky and you were his saint.
His groans and grunts filled your ears like lovely symphonies, each note sending goosebumps to rise along your arms and neck. It was a beautiful song, filling you with the wonders of emotions. You couldn’t get enough.
“My pretty girl,” he sighed. His own words seem to turn him on further, as his pace increased, becoming an aggressive slap of skin with every thrust. His cock dragged mercifully along the walls of your cunt, his leaking tip hitting the spongy spot and causing your body to go lax as you took and took. “What are you doin’ t’me?”
“Simon,” you whimpered, and he chuckled out a breathy laugh. With his forearms still resided on the sides of your head, his fingers interlocked on the top of your head, holding you firm against him and keeping you in place.
“So fuckin’ good t’me. Don’t deserve you.”
You clamped around him, causing him to groan. His pace was becoming messy and sloppy, but no less relenting.
“I’ll make sure you’re cared for. Won’t ever have to worry ‘bout anythin’ with me around,” he whispered, and you weren’t fully processing the words. To you, it was mindless babble that you simply took in through the hazy state of your mind, nodding eagerly at every empty promise.
The two of you were growing restless, your bodies building a molten core of unleashed pleasure that threatened to erupt at any given moment. It was hot and scalding, burning the pit of your stomach.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” he asked, almost mockingly. You cried, fingernails digging into his biceps so harshly, the skin nearly broke with pebbled drops of blood. “Yeah? Go ahead, I’ve got you.”
Your own body was betraying you, and you succumbed to the burst of bliss, chest pressing up against his, needy cries singing from your lips. Your eyes spotted with hints of black, the stimulation becoming overbearing.
Simon didn’t allow himself his own pleasure until you had yours, so when he felt you clench around him in a vice, he let himself go, spilling into you and flooding you with milky warmth. It coated your insides like a beautiful painting, filling you with douses of his undying affection.
He slumped on to you, face buried in the crook of your neck. The two of you laid there in comforting silence, catching your breaths and processing the new intimacy formed between you.
While you were riding on a cloud of euphoria, Simon was being dragged into the deepest pits of hell.
Selfish.
What a horrible person he was. All he had to do was let you go, but he did even worse than he had done before.
This was worse than killing men and women. This was worse than killing Graves out of rage.
He was going to leave you behind, make you feel like you meant nothing more than a calculated fuck, and he was going to burn in hell for it. All because he fell in love with you, all because he couldn’t kill you.
When Simon helped clean you up and buried you in your blankets, he waited until you were asleep, sedated and happy. Your frown lines were smoothed over with a look of peace and ecstasy, and he traced along the flush of your skin until he knew it was time.
He carefully made his way out of the comfort of your bed, movements slow as not to disturb you. He gathered his clothes, sifting them on with a hint of resentment for his own actions, and he left.
Just like that, he left.
Simon blocked your number without so much as a goodbye text, or an explanation, telling you that you did nothing wrong. He didn’t tell you that he was the issue, that he was the one in the wrong. Didn’t tell you he fell in love with you, and now he was facing the consequences for it.
He typed out one final message to Price, hoping to satisfy the bastard for what he forced him to do.
“It’s done.”
499 notes ¡ View notes
spiderb00 ¡ 1 month ago
Text
Losing all my innocence in the backseat
Manon Bannerman X Reader 
Synopsis - your car has broken down, and your date with Manon is gone. But your girlfriend always finds a way to make everything special. 
Genre – Fluff & Smut       MEN N MINORS DNI (Request)
Warnings – semi-public sex? Nobody sees them, but they are inside a car. 
Now playing – Diet pepsi, by Addison Rae
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You drove quietly down the empty roads, your right hand comfortably on Manon's thigh, the songs on Manon's Playlist fill the car. Today, you and your girlfriend were going to watch the sunset on the beach, your favorite date. There were towels and a bag with wines and snacks so that you and Manon could comfortably enjoy every second of your date. It was very rare for you and Manon to have equal days off, so you wanted everything to be perfect.  
Unfortunately, the atmosphere of tranquility did not last long, a noise in the engine interrupted your trip, and little by little the car simply stopped moving, giving you only time to touch the curb, before dying completely. 
"No, no, no! Come on." You said, giving a little punch to the steering wheel, while Manon tried to think of how to calm you down.  
Manon knew that you had planned everything meticulously, she was extremely grateful for your effort in the whole relationship, she had never had someone who put so much love into the things she did. So she also knew that you were a little perfectionist when it came to planning.   
"Hey, calm down, baby. Maybe it's not that serious." The brunette said, trying to make you not get frustrated.  
"I'll take a look, hopefully it doesn't spoil our plans." You said, giving a slight smile to the girl next to you, you unbuckled your seatbelt, jumping out of the seat of your Jeep and lifting the hood to see where the problem was.  
When you lifted the hood, all you could do was cough through the smoke that came out of your car. When the smoke cleared, you were able to get a better view and immediately started looking for the problem, so focused that you didn't even notice when your girlfriend got out of the car and walked to your side. 
"And then, baby? Do you know what the problem is?" Manon asked, the girl trying to see if anything was out of place, quickly remembering that she had no idea what she was looking at.  
"If that's what I'm thinking, our plans will be finished." You said, taking off the jacket you were wearing, leaving only your white tank top.    
Manon knew the situation was serious, but she couldn't help but peek at your arms, the muscles flexing as you fiddled with the car parts, the bulging veins and your tattoos look beautiful in contrast to your skin, highlighting one that always made Manon's legs weak, a tattoo with the shape of her body,  made in light strokes, which was positioned on your biceps. When you first showed her the tattoo, Manon jumped on your bones all night, and she could have sworn she could do it again every time she caught a glimpse of the ink on your skin. 
"yes, the engine heated up, the oil levels were low, which is crazy, because I could have sworn it was fine. There's nothing I can do right now but call the tow truck." You said, walking towards the driver's seat to get your phone.   
Listening to you talk to the guy in tow, Manon can see how frustrated you were. She could hear the gasps and puffs of air you let out constantly, and she knew she had to do something. Manon loved your company, and not only when you went out to beautiful places, she wanted you to know that just the two of you being together would be enough. 
"Great, they can only come in two hours." You said, walking towards the hood of the car and closing it tightly.  
"Hey, calm down, baby. You don't have to be like this, I know you had planned everything, but we can still have fun." Manon said, running her arms around your neck and pulling you closer, making you put your hands on the waist of the woman.  
"Sorry, baby. I just wanted everything to come out perfect." You said, running your thumb lightly over Manon's skin.  
"I know, but it can still be perfect. How about we drink that wine and hug each other a little, huh?" Manon said tilting her head to the right as she bit her lower lip, making you smile, giving in to the woman's request.   
Jumping in the back seat of your Jeep, you and Manon drank the wine straight from the bottle, the brunette snuggled comfortably on your chest as you shared conversations and laughter.   
"We missed the sunset, but at least we managed to drink all the wine." You said, placing the empty bottle carefully on the floor of the car.  
"And I could still see you in your sexy mechanical mode." Manon said, smiling and biting her lower lip right after.   
"Sexy mechanic, huh?!" You said, laughing with the brunette, that was getting closer to you.  
"Yes, my sexy mechanic." Manon straddled you, her legs on either side of your body, the brunette leaning in and starting a slow kiss. 
Your hands moved to hold Manon's waist instantly, almost like an extinguished. You knew each other's movements well, you both knew every curve and every little detail of both bodies. You were physically, mentally, and emotionally connected, and all of that just made your relationship wonderful.  
"How much time do we have left until the tow guy arrives?" Manon asked, ungluing her lips from yours for a second, only to place them on your jaw. 
"One hour." You said, holding back the moans that wanted to come out of you as you looked at the minutes that passed through your phone's clock.  
"Perfect, you've already made me cum in less time." The brunette said, gluing her lips to yours again.  
Hearing that, everything in you perked up, the thought of eating your girlfriend outside in the middle of an empty road seemed dangerous and exciting at the same time, but thinking about all the time you've spent here talking, why not spend it doing something more fun? 
Turning Manon around and tucking her body under the leather seat, you pulled away slightly, tilting the passenger seat forward so you had more room to get on your knees. You were tall and although the position was a little uncomfortable, you didn't care, you would kneel in Legos if it meant you would eat your girlfriend out. Kissing Manon again, you took your jacket off her body, the brunette had put it on after you discarded it, claiming you were cold. Your kisses went down Manon's neck, who panted lightly with the placement of your kisses, always reaching a sensitive place of hers.   
"Can I take your shirt off, baby?" You asked, teasing Manon, who seemed impatient.   
"Please, you can do whatever you want with me. Just, hurry up." The brunette said, making you smile and slide the shirt off her body.  
Seeing that she was without a bra, your smile widened, and you immediately put her left nipple in your mouth, massaging her right. The moans your girlfriend let out were beautiful, and only made you want to go deeper with it all. Now, you who were getting impatient, unbuttoning your girlfriend's black jeans, you slid the piece out of Manon's body. Your mouth watering when you saw the black panties she wore.   
"Can I take that away from you, baby?" You asked, and even though you had joked before, consent was very important to you.  
"Damn, Yn! Yes, do whatever you want with me." Manon said, shaking her legs slightly to emphasize how needy she was.  
With a smile, you took off the brunette's panties, keeping them in your back pocket. You moved closer to Manon's pussy, just torturing the woman and putting kisses on her thighs, biting lightly from time to time.  
"Yn, I swear to god that if you don't start eat me..."   
Manon was interrupted by a moan coming out of her mouth as you licked all over her pussy. Playing with her bundle of nerves right after, making Manon's head fall backwards on the back of the seat. When you penetrated her hole with your tongue, she let out one of the loudest moans you've ever heard, her hands trying to grab your tank top, only for her hand to go through the fabric and scratch your back.   
The moan of pain you let out emitted delicious vibrations in your girlfriend's pussy, causing her to grab your hair and push your head more between her legs. After a few minutes of shaking your head back and forth, and doing everything to pleasure your girlfriend, you felt Manon's legs start to shake, knowing that she would in a few moments, you put a finger inside her, while your tongue worked on her clit. 
Manon's moan was pleasurable, and the brunette's nails dragged down your back as she came in your mouth. Without letting Manon rest, you didn't stop, your head still between the woman's legs, catching every drop of sperm that came out of her. Putting two fingers inside her this time, while making quick movements against her clit. 
Manon, starting to get overstimulated, grabbed your hair, only for you to take your fingers out of her and grab her wrists, pulling her hands away from you. Her hips were frantically moving against your face and you were so focused that you didn't notice the tears beginning to well up in Manon's eyes.   
"Yn, baby. Please, it's enough!" Hearing your girlfriend's voice, you finally took your head out of between her legs, looking at her before giving her a light kiss on top of her clit, making her shiver slightly.  
"Sorry, baby. You just get me hooked on you. Did I hurt you?" You asked, genuine concern in your voice.  
"No, it was good, very good. I just need some time to recover." She said, combing your wild hair back.  
Laughing, you sat next to your girlfriend, picking up a bottle of water that was in the coasters.   
"Here, drink a little. You must have a sore throat from screaming." You said, mocking the woman next to you.  
"Shut up, you idiot." Manon said, taking the open bottle from your hand and taking half of it quickly.  
"I love you." You said, looking at the brunette as she finished drinking the entire bottle of water.  
"I love you too, dummy." Manon said, leaning over and giving your lips a kiss, she could swear she tasted her on them.  
"Well, let's dress you, we don't want to be caught like that by the mechanic." You said, turning your back to Manon to grab her pants, which you had thrown somewhere. 
"Put the jacket you took back on, your back is wrecked." 
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After the mechanic took your car, you ordered an Uber, Manon would sleep at your house tonight, and all you wanted was to jump on the soft blankets and sleep cuddled. So when you got home, you two wasted no time, taking off your clothes and tucking together under the shower. The warm water doing wonders for Manon, while for you, let's just say your back was burning like hell.   
After you got out of the shower, you both put on pajamas and snuggled up on the bed, the bodies of the two of you fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. And just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt a light kiss on your cheek, making your eyes open with difficulty. 
"I love you." Manon said, looking at you with admiration in her eyes. "Me and you forever?"   
"Forever Always." You said, kissing her forehead. "I love you too, Bannerman."   
Manon's giggle was the last thing you heard before falling asleep.  
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wow, okay. I loved all of that. I think I really needed to rest a little so that the ideas came back to me. So that's it, thank you to anon who made the request
xoxo, spider.
239 notes ¡ View notes
simmplerussiangirl ¡ 5 days ago
Text
The courting
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Sevika x Reader
Synopsis: Sevika had never been courted, bought her a drink, given her flowers and candy, or insisted on socializing. And then she came into her life.
Word count:2.3k
a/n: I love Sevika with all my heart. God, I hope my future wife will be like her. Otherwise, I don't see the point of moving on with my life lol.
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- Wow,” I said, running my hand across the table where a girl of unimaginable beauty was sitting. She was smoking a cigarette and doing something with her mechanical arm, apparently fixing it. - So beautiful and alone. And bored.
��I sat down on the chair opposite the girl. Smiling with all her 32 teeth, I examined her without shyness. Her cheekbones were the first thing that caught my eye, and it looked like you could cut yourself if you swiped them. Oh, and what that look was worth.... She was looking at me angrily from under her forehead with her deep dark brown eyes. Her bushy eyebrows were pulled down to the bridge of her nose.
- Get out of here,” she looked down at her hand again, painstakingly fixing some part of it.
 I laughed softly and leaned on my palm, watching her movements with rapt attention. A lock of short, dark hair fell over her eyes, and she jerked her head to remove it. Allowing me to see her powerful neck, its veins bulging.
- I wouldn't dream of it - I smiled again - What did you say your name was?
 The girl looked at me again unhappily, taking a cigarette in her healthy hand and taking a puff.
- 'I didn't say my name. Get out of here before I spoil your face.
- Oh, you like it rough,” I laughed, and leaned back in my chair, watching her look of surprise, then curved my lips in a squeamish way and returned to my hand. - Don't worry, I like that too. I won't leave you until you tell me your name, you must understand that.
The girl snorted contemptuously.
-Sevika- -she angrily tapped her mechanical arm, she was clearly having trouble with it.
-Wonderful, I'm Sophie,” I smiled captivatingly as she looked at me angrily.
 I got up from the table and walked over to her, leaning slightly toward her face. Sevika pulled her head back sharply, which made me giggle slightly.
- You didn't put the spring in, Sevika - I sweetly held out the girl's name tasting it and held out my palm to her with the piece from her hand - Here you go.
 I watched with amusement as bewilderment and then rage grew in her. But by the time she realized that I had deliberately snatched the piece from her to ask her name, I was gone.
 Luckily my instinct for self-preservation was there.
***
The next time we met was at the same bar about a week after the hand incident.
 As I walked into the bar, I saw her sitting back in the spot where I usually hung out. “That's a sign,” I thought as I squeezed my way to the bar through a layer of drunk people.
-Tommy darling, hello there-” I sent the bartender an air kiss, ”I have a life and death question for you.
 The bartender laughed softly and walked over to me. Having a man behind the bar was a plus. He's a drinking buddy, a friend, an informant.
-I'm listening. - He said in a humble voice, leaning toward me so he could hear me better.
-Remember what a girl named Sevika usually orders? - I made the most pleading eyes I could and folded my fingers crosswise.
-I remember. -What is it?
-Tommy, you're my savior! - I jumped up and down and clapped my hands together - Make it my usual and add Sevika's order to the bill.
 He smiled suspiciously, but didn't ask anything, just went off to make drinks, muttering something to himself and shaking his head.
 -He handed the drinks to me, but as soon as I reached for them, he pulled them back to him, forcing me to look at him. “But be warned, she might hit you, so don't get too excited.
- Don't worry, it'll be fine,” I put the money on the bar, took the drinks and went to the girl. - “I love you,” I whispered with just my lips to him.
-Darling, what a reunion.
 I happily walked over to the girl and placed the mug with her drink beside her and sat down on the chair across from her again.
- You again? - she frowned and looked at me unhappily.
- Me again. Did you miss me? - I took a sip from my glass and nodded toward her, “Help yourself.
- What if you poison me? No thanks,” she pushed away the drink I'd brought her.
- Hey, I bought it for you. Do you want me to sip it? - I pouted my lips and stared naively into her eyes.
- No.” She cut me off and got up from the table.
 I turned my head to see where she was going. Sevika was leaving the bar. I rolled my eyes and clucked my tongue as I sipped my drink again, staring unhappily at the mug I'd brought for her.
 I stared at the glass for about ten minutes, and finally, unable to stand it, I slammed my foot down on the table, and the drink fell to the floor, spilling over.
 This drinking scheme always worked, so why did this girl refuse? I sighed heavily and got up from the table, heading home. I wasn't in the mood anymore.
***
The next time we crossed paths was late at night. I was coming home from a bar when Sevika and some blue-haired girl came out of the fog to meet me.
- Sevika dear, what meeting? - I smiled drunkenly and saluted her with my hand - Going to the bar with your girlfriend?
- She's not my girlfriend - the girl with blue hair snorted and ran forward behind my back, seemingly not wanting to see anyone at all.
-I stretched out and looked into Sevika's eyes. - This is the third time we've seen each other, how many more times do we have to see each other before she'll finally talk to me?
 I heard a quiet laugh. And the girl walked over to me, towering over me. And I was a little surprised at her size, she was taller than me by almost a whole head.
- Are you trying to intimidate me with your body? - I laughed when I saw her surprised squint, “You're not succeeding. So far I've only gotten aroused
 Sevika stepped away from me abruptly, going behind my back. To which I laughed out loud.
- See you later, sweetheart.
***
The next seven meetings were insanely monotonous. I bought her alcohol, she sent me away and left. The only thing that made them different was that in the last few, she started taking the drinks with her and leaving not from the bar, but to the second floor, where Silko's office was.
 And I thought that was a green light and started running into the bar more often, leaving flowers and candy at Tommy's. I knew she was picking them up. I didn't know if she was keeping it all for herself or giving it to someone else.
***
One Friday night, I bought drinks for the two of us again and sat down at her table.
- I was more excited than usual this time, and I felt like I was close to getting Sevika to talk to me.
- I'm already having nightmares about you - she rubbed her face with her hands and looked at me.
- Oh, so you're dreaming about me, interesting,” I smiled softly at her, waiting for her to take her drink and go upstairs.
 But instead she took a sip of alcohol and leaned back in her chair.
- You're not even going to run away from me? - I smiled mischievously, tilting my head sideways to look at the girl.
- You can't run away from me, you're not going to eat until I talk to you. So I'm sitting here in front of you, ask me anything you want.
- Oh, so you think you'll fuck off if you talk to me? - I giggled and tossed my hair back,” What's your favorite color?
 I saw a shadow of incomprehension run across her face, as if I had asked something insanely weird.
-What?” her arched eyebrow and surprised look made me laugh, and I burst out laughing.
-What? -I asked something personal? My maroon.
-Black. Why would you ask that?
- Because I'm curious. I put my hands on the table. Did you like the flowers I gave you?
- I gave them to Jinx.” She averted her eyes and looked behind me.
- First of all, you're lying,” I smirked, running my finger along the rim of the glass, ”and second of all, who is Jinx, your girlfriend or your girlfriend's girlfriend?
- My headache,” she rolled her eyes and sipped her drink, trying to hide her nervousness.
- Well, you've already admitted you're lying to me. So how about some flowers?  I tried to pick ones you might like.
- Pretty ones, Sevika said, why did you bring them?
- I was trying to get you to like me. All girls like to receive flowers. There are women who don't like flowers in general, but in any case even they like to receive bouquets. It's an act of consideration, but for some reason you're trying to prove me wrong. Why?
-Listen, you're wasting your time, I'm not interested in you or your attention. - Sevika flared up, and with a sharp swing of her arms, threw her drink off the table.
-Are you sure?
-Sure.
-Strange, -I stood up from the table, picked up the mug and, putting it on the table in front of Sevika, leaned over to her face. - After all, when a person is not interesting - courtship is not accepted. And you accepted, and drinks, and bouquets, and sweets, and all sorts of trinkets. All right, I'll leave you alone, dearie. But I have to try one last time. Come here tomorrow at 7:00 if you still want to go out with me. I'll be waiting, Sevika.
 Wiggling my hips, I left the bar. I knew I'd done a bad thing by manipulating her. But without it, I'd be running around like a puppy for a couple more months.
***
At seven o'clock that night, I was sitting at her table like a bayonet. Impatiently glancing at the time, snapping my fingers and glaring at everyone who entered the bar. With each passing minute, I doubted more and more that she was coming. So when it was 7:15 on the clock, I got up from the table.
 Pulling up the skirt I'd put on for her. I couldn't believe that she really didn't care about me and was accepting my advances, just because she was bored. I felt sick to my stomach about her blowing me off, I guess I was just imagining things.
 I looked up and saw her on the stairs leading up to the second stairwell. It wasn't clear if she was going up or down, so I just stared at her, waiting for her to move on. A couple seconds later, I saw her heading up the stairs at a brisk pace. I smirked, grabbed my bag from the chair, and walked outside.
 I crouched down on the curb and pressed my lips together, watching the passersby. And as luck would have it, there were only couples on the street. I bent my legs at the knees, put my hands on them, and hid my head in them, wishing I could just vaporize. “How could I screw up so badly, and fall in love with a girl I've only had a normal conversation with once...”
 I felt a jacket being placed on my shoulders. I instantly boiled up, why the fuck am I being touched when I'm in such a fucked up mood. I felt like I was going to punch the bastard in the face if he didn't get off my back right away.
- What am I, a fucking hanger?! - I exclaimed, turning my head back sharply, rage on my face, anger inside me. But that was until I saw who was standing in front of me.
 Sevika. So beautiful. Wearing a beautiful, seemingly new black shirt with the first two buttons undone. Her hair was in a fresh bun for once, not sticking out in all directions, and she was holding a small bouquet of burgundy roses.
- I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you. - I stood up from the curb and fixed my skirt. - So does that mean you're okay to go out with me, or okay, but not with me? - I tilted my head to the side and adjusted her jacket.
 - I do. With you - she held out the bouquet to me and as I accepted it, I breathed in the scent of the flowers - You said you liked that you liked burgundy, so I... Um....
- Thank you, it's my pleasure - I interrupted her, seeing the girl's awkwardness - I was already thinking that you really aren't attracted to me.
- You're not good at thinking, Sophie dear, leave it to someone like me - the girl turned me away from the bar and put her hand on my back and gently nudged me to go.
-Wow, so I had to yell at you once to get you to start flirting with me? - I pouted my lips, turning my head toward her. -You could have told me that earlier.
- Yeah, like you said, I like it rough.
 I laughed, my laugh mingling with hers, husky and chesty. And I swear it's the best thing I've ever heard in my life.
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burnthoneydrops ¡ 7 months ago
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A Shame Indeed (c.b. x fem!reader)
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pairing: colin bridgerton x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k
warnings: use of female descriptors (miss, young lady, etc)
a/n: Part II to this post for colin! also a continuation of this series! i hope you enjoy and a reminder that requests are open! (both in general and for my 200 celebration :)) )
The Bridgerton drawing room is a wonderful net for beautiful sunlight. At least, that is what you gather while sitting there early one morning, a few weeks into your new role as governess. No main member of the family is awake, just the staff that keep the house afloat. It is rather peaceful, and you are grateful for the moments of solitude away from your room where you have piles of old curtain fabric surrounding you. As you finish stitching two panels of a Hyacinth size dress together, there are footsteps traipsing down the carpeted floor, alerting you of someone else’s arrival. You’re quick to your feet, lest it be a Bridgerton and you appear disrespectful. Though you have gained their trust and appreciation, it still feels as though someone might pull you back out of this dream scenario at any second. 
“Ah, good morning Mr. Bridgerton,” you nod, smiling lightly as Colin appears in the doorway. 
“Good morning Miss Y/N. It is rather early is it not? Is Hyacinth even awake yet?” He asks, looking down the hallway before walking closer into the room. 
“Alas, she is not. I figured wasting time while awake rather silly, however, so here I am”.
“With…” he looks behind you, back at the couch, and his eyebrows raise in confusion as his head tilts to the side. 
“Oh, those are curtains that Mrs. Wilson was going to have thrown out. There was a stain on them, apparently, but I have yet to find it”. 
That does not seem to lessen Colin’s confusion. 
“And what exactly are you doing with them?” 
“Hyacinth has been begging to go to the modiste with Lady Bridgerton and Miss Bridgerton, but the focus is on those who need new dresses for the season. So, in the absence of the actual modiste, I figured I could stand in and make her a new dress. It is, however, a surprise so please do not tell her,” you look between him and the curtain, hoping you hadn’t just spoiled your plan. 
Instead of verbally responding, Colin drags his fingers in front of his lips and twists an imaginary key, signalling his sworn secrecy. You laugh quietly, before turning to sit back down with your work. Now that you no longer have to fear the undermining of your surprise, you are free to work on it in the open, or at least in front of Colin. As a member of staff passes, Colin orders tea and scones, muttering something about how if the two of you were going to stay awake you might have some fuel. One thing you have learned throughout your few weeks is Hyacinth and Gregory’s love for mischief is rivalled only by Colin’s love of food. You say nothing, choosing to politely nod in agreement instead as you create the puff sleeves of Hyacinth’s dress. The scones and tea are brought quickly, you assume already prepared. You don’t think it will ever fail to amaze you how on top of everything the people who run Bridgerton house are nor the fact that you are now a part of that. 
“Do you care for cream or jam first?” Colin breaks the silence, almost startling you. 
“Oh, um, do not feel obliged to offer me any Mr. Bridgerton”. 
“Colin, please. We did agree to get to know each other on more adult terms, did we not?” 
“Well, I suppose we did. But that does not remove anything in the series of respect and class differentials Mr. Bridgerton”. 
“Yes, but if I am insisting, and you work for my house, then you must listen to me. Yes?” He looks quite pleased with himself as he pours milk into his teacup. 
“Fine, Colin it is. But if anyone asks, you are to inform them of your wishes immediately. I will not have people thinking I disrespect this house voluntarily,”. 
“Yes ma’am,” he laughs, “now, cream or jam?”  
The conversation carries on easily enough between the two of you, and for a second you forget yourself. You forget that you are inside the previously terrifying Bridgerton home, making clothes out of old curtains and drinking tea with one of your employers. It feels easy, relaxed, and you wish that you could perpetually stay in this moment. The warm sun on your back is the same that makes Colin appear glowing, making his laugh even that more heavenly in appearance. You pause, internally slow blinking and hoping that you’re not physically translating that on your face. You did not just call Colin Bridgerton’s laugh heavenly, did you? You push the thought out of your mind, remembering there is no place for thoughts like that while doing your job. 
That is until Lady Bridgerton makes her way into the drawing room and pauses at the sight before her. You notice her before Colin does, standing at attention immediately, dropping the dress down on the couch beside you. Colin stands cooly, walking over to greet his mother with a soft hug and a light kiss on the cheek. You do not think you’ve seen him do anything with much more force than that since your arrival, and you wonder if he is that gentle with every person he meets. Quickly checking that train of thought and registering it unhelpful at this current moment in time, you look back solely at Lady Bridgerton, apologising for the possibility that you had any part in waking her. 
“Oh no, my dear, it was not you,” she reassures you, choosing not to question why she found her third eldest and her newest hire alone together, but rather allowing Colin to excuse himself with the claim that he is to meet his brothers for a round of fencing. “May I ask why you have some of our old curtains in your possession?” She asks instead, taking Colin’s previously occupied seat on the couch across from you. 
“Oh, Mrs. Wilson said they were to be thrown away and I couldn’t bear the waste of perfectly good fabric, so I fashioned Hyacinth a new dress,” you display the work you had completed during your conversation with the third Bridgerton boy, trying to be prideful but fearing the response all the same. 
“How thoughtful of you,” Lady Bridgerton smiles and you secretly sigh in relief. Though you had never pegged Lady Bridgerton to be cruel or patronising in any way, some of your previous employers had not been as kind, so you always secretly fear the worst. Your letters to your mother would describe as such, the growing anxiety that every well-to-do mama that you serve under will be exactly like the last. As much as you continually remind yourself that the Bridgertons are different, those thoughts do love to linger. 
The afternoon sun brings a welcome break to your lesson with Hyacinth, who immediately insisted on wearing her new dress when presented with it. She looks lovely wandering around the garden, running across benches in the lightly patterned fabric which makes her easier to spot as well. Though that had not been your intention while making the garment, you have to admit it is a welcomed bonus. That child certainly has enough energy for all the ton twice over, so being easily seen is a necessity when she could run off at any moment. She had been dying to show you what she had observed in Gregory’s dance lesson and requested that you acted as the female so she could take Gregory’s spot. You curtsey as low as you can go before placing your hands on her small frame, bending at the knees ever so slightly so her hands can rest at a comfortable position. With no music to accompany you, Hyacinth takes to counting the steps out loud and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to suppress your laughter. One misstep has Hyacinth scolding you, though not entirely in earnest as the situation quickly crumbles into a fit of laughter between you both. The sweet girl sits next to you on the garden pathway, the two of you holding your stomachs as you laugh heartily. 
Colin stands at a window a floor above the gardens, overlooking the entertaining spectacle taking place before him. A persistent smile etches its way onto his face as his hands rest behind his back, grateful that you are down there and otherwise preoccupied so as to not witness his very obvious infatuation. He does not entirely know when his thoughts about you transitioned in such a way, he just hopes it is not as obvious as he feels it must be. Soon, he realises he is not the only person watching, as his mother has joined by his side, glancing down at what has captured her son’s attention so. 
“She has quite the way with the children,” his mother comments, continuing to glance at the two of you rather than addressing her son directly. 
“You chose well,” he agrees, looking quickly at Lady Bridgerton before continuing to smile at the sound of your laugh climbing its way up through the window. 
“A very kind soul indeed,” Lady Bridgerton sighs contently, turning then to look at her son. “With a rather large, loving heart as well. It would be a shame to let that go to waste”. With no further explanation, she turns and walks away, leaving her son in the sunlit spot on the carpet, confused. She did always have a way for reading her childrens’ minds, as well as their hearts, even when they could not conjure up their thoughts themselves. 
What a shame it would be, he agrees mentally. What a shame.
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stuck-writing-sickos ¡ 6 months ago
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In Poor Taste [P5]
(Yandere × F! Reader)
[Warning: addiction, alcohol, ageism, sexism, misogyny, mention of bodily harm, religious trauma]
[A/N: its high time we show yuki some love 🫶]
[Series Link]
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You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They couldn't stand being unremarkable.
"Bless me, father, for I have sinned."
Silence. The stuffy wood walls felt as if it was contracting.
"It's been five years since my last confession, and I accuse myself of the following sin."
No answer yet as per customary. Lukas tugged at his tight collar, anxious. His blunt fingernails reached inside the gap, letting a puff of air hit his chest dripping with sweat.
"I am lost, father."
"And why did you say that?"
"I have nothing special about me. I never really had to try hard to get what I want, and now... I don't know which path to take."
"You walk with God, my child."
Something within his chest inflated, leaving him gasping for air.
"Is that all there is, Father?"
"We are all nothing without Him. He will show you the way."
Lukas wanted to get out of the booth, but he couldn't. His body was frozen in place. Panic set in as he tried to squirm only to find his strength redundant.
"I don't see it, Father!", he tried to scream, but his voice came out weak, "I don't see it... I need to forge my own."
"And how do you plan to do that, when you are unspecial and lost?"
The priest's voice wasn't singular anymore. It dissolved into a chorus of many, thunderous and firm. Lukas heaved, choking on the taste of pennies. He felt a weight from the other side pressing against the confession window, closing the walls in.
The curtain cracked open. Lukas could only look as a hand reached in and grabbed his collar, harshly yanking him forward as if he was a ragdoll. His body was then unbound, light and fluid like water.
He gasped, his eyes fluttering open. Lukas felt the cold sweat on his neck. Between dream and reality, he almost remembered the bruised knuckle and the familiar fingers that pulled him awake.
___
Yuki figured the newbie was a quick learner, but he didn't think Lukas would pick up on your introversion that quickly.
It was ironic that this newcomer was already half of the foreign staff present in the end-of-year dinner that the foreign dept threw. The other half was you. Together you and him sat, tall and quiet. The cozy private restaurant lounge was bustling with chatters, but not one peep from this pair. Far off from the other side of the long table, Yuki could only steal glances at you who only nodded and smiled at any attempts at conversations that went your way. He was worried that Lukas might try something weird tonight what with alcohol so readily available, but so far he had seen nothing but a rather impressive effort at maintaining social norms. He assumed that ought to clear his mind, yet any time he found himself letting his guard down, he was sorely reminded of the punk rock clothing site. Some parts of him were starting to manifest doubt - was he the weird one for fixating? Was it some... American norms he failed to consider? After all, Australian culture could very well be less intense than its riveting cousin. Deciding at last that he was overthinking, he tried to keep up with the conversations around him.
If something bad were to happen, you'd say something, right?
"Say, Sakamoto", he jumped at Tahara's voice, surprised to see she had her attention on him now, "are you ever gonna get married?"
Instantly, eyes were on him. Yuki shifted, laughing nervously.
"Yeah", another voice chimed in, "You're 26, you're earning good money, you got your family's name. Women must be flocking to you."
That voice would be Hanao, quite possibly his least favorite senior. 33, begrudgingly married and completely removed from the concept of boundaries, he could only get worse with a pint in his hand.
"I have some unmarried cousins who would look great on you", Tahara piled onto the mess she herself caused, "Do you want a blind date with her?"
"Or look around the dept", Hanao exclaimed, his ugly habit of getting loud when he got drunk seeping in, "so many young, beautiful ladies are lining up for you!"
Yuki couldn't help but notice the discomfort on the faces of the "ladies" in question, their gaze downcasted or unsubtly turned away.
"Hanao, that's not fair to them", Yuki finally interfered, treading carefully so as not to trigger another terrible habit Hanao got up his sleeves when alcohol got into his system - getting angry, "they are not lining up for me, I'm sure."
"Nonsense", the older man dismissed, waving him off. Yuki's back felt cold as Hanao fully turned to his younger female colleagues who had gotten stiff and awkward, walled in by the long table and the crowd of coworker.
"Wouldn't you ladies want him? He's a bit dull and quiet, but he's a good kid. He is handsome, and his wallet is thick, too. I'm telling you, if you want a chance you better be quick."
The young women politely tried to move on from the topic, but it only fueled his insistence. Stressed out that Hanao was stuck on talking about marriage, Yuki finished his drink painstakingly fast. Hazy now, he landed the pint harshly.
"Excuse me... I should go for a smoke."
"Hey, what's the rush? Are you embarrassed?", Hanao asked, "It's okay Sakamoto, men only get finer with age! Sit down, I think Ms. Sasaki is interested, right?"
Yuki was already standing up with a cigarette in his mouth by the time Sasaki meekly protested. Something about "Mr. Hanao, you're so mean. He will hate me now!"
He looked at the girl. Yuki barely remembered any interaction they had with each other. Did they ever even talk? She was smiley, cheerful, and she had a sweet voice, but he didn't find anything reeling him in. In fact, the expectant look on her face as she tried to make eye contacts made Yuki queazy. Nervous and tense, he excused himself without even acknowledging her presence.
Sometimes, the body remembers things the mind tries to forget.
The smell of food followed him outside. Yuki hurried to a street corner, anxious for that first hit of nicotine to cool his head. Tipsy and disoriented, he was fumbling with the lighter when he saw you. He must had missed you slipping out of the party when Tahara and Hanao cornered him with their tedious talk of marriage. You were on your phone. Your thumbs were still hovering over the bright screen when you. Clearing his throat to make his presence know, Yuki was startled by the blank stare you gave his way.
"Everything okay?", he asked and walked over to stand by your side. Your eyes didn't follow his movement. You looked straight ahead, your face drained of any expression.
"Yes", you tried to sound casual, but your voice were light as air, "everything is fine."
He finally managed to light his cigarette. The first pull was long and crisp. His flexed shoulders dropped as he leaned against the wall and sigh, satisfied. From the corner of his eyes, he could see you tapping on your phone, your fingers typing up a storm. Something was wrong, he could tell, but he didn't want to push. Beside, he was just drunk enought to feel content keeping your company in silence.
It was by the second cigarette that you peeped: "can I have one, Sakamoto?"
That messed with his buzz. Propping himself upright, he turned over to face you.
"No."
You didn't respond. Instead, you stared at him with desperate eyes and quivering lips. Yuki watched your fingers curling up and flexing. A twinge in his chest made him drop the stern tone.
"What happened?"
You hung your head. Your quiet, exasperated voice was almost swallowed by the city's white noise: "please..."
He sighed and fished out one, seeing that it was no use persuading you. His hand hesitated as yours reached over, starved.
"You've quitted for 3 years. You were doing good."
You didn't say anything.
"Are you sure?" He asked for the last time, and the ache in his chest tugged again as he saw you nodding. He handed over the stick and watched helplessly as you stuck it between your teeth. As a last ditch effort, he tossed his lighter into the nearby dumpster.
"I'm sorry", he sighed and took another drag, puffing smoke out his nose, "you can call me a hypocrite, I deserve it. But I just can't-
He was cut off by your cool skin grazing his own as you took his cigarette right out of his mouth. Gently, you placed the burning end onto your unlit one and pulled until you've successfully kindled.
"I'm sorry", you choked, handing back what you'd stolen. He took it, slow and bewildered.
"It's okay. I'm worried, though. Did Lukas do something weird? You know you can tell me."
Your shoulders closed in. You couldn't look him in the eyes.
"No, not Lukas."
__
Lukas didn't like the hot, crawling excitement his body manifested when you were near. He couldn't focus. After the concert, he didn't want to face you. He tried to tell himself many things: you weren't any hotter than the girls he had back in college, you were too independent, you didn't bother to act feminine,... Didn't matter. You had something else that he wanted.
That was why no matter how tedious and stressful the dinner party was for him, someone who didn't know a lick of Japanese, he would rather sit in silence than to talk to you. You were quiet next to him, as if lost in thought. The entire day, he had noticed you spacing out and getting distracted. It was out of the ordinary for someone as put-together as you to keep saying "I'm sorry, I must have forgotten". The final straw was when you blankly sipped on your drink only to spill on your skirt. You didn't even react, only sighing and wiping it off with the tissue he handed over.
"Excuse me", your voice was monotone, "I'm going to the bathroom."
He didn't know who that was directed at. Only him, he assumed, since everyone else were lost in their own coversation. Seeing that your beer had splashed on the floor near where you sat, he reached over to wipe it off. His hand was nearby the phone you had forgotten when it buzzed, its screen lighting up.
"He is going through an episode again"
Lukas never thought of himself as someone who would snoop - after all, he never really cared for any women to reach that point - yet that text from your mother stirred up a morbid sense of curiosity. He watched the bright screen blinking again as another text popped up.
"Please... talk to your brother. He's threatening to do it again."
The screen door slid open, snapping him out of it. Quicking resuming his position, he smiled at you who were carefully finding your way back to your seat, side-stepping your coworkers. Your weary smile was poorly faked.
Lukas' heart beat fast. He was itching to ask you about what he saw, though he decided to hold it in. He didn't know how to begin the conversation without admitting that he had violated your privacy...that would warrant a strong reaction. Yet, within his curiosity, Lukas caught a glimpse of anticipation. How would you look at him, if you were to get mad? He tried to imagine you scowling, your jaw flexed and fists clenched. He wonder if you would curse him out. Maybe, you would even hit him.
God, he hoped you would.
Lost in a fantasy, he was grounded again when you softly excused yourself out "for some fresh air". Nobody paid any mind when you rushed off, your feet barely touching the ground.
Maybe now wouldn't be a good time to test out the validity of his craving. Lukas drew his attention to the rest of the party, trying to forget about it. He didn't understand a single thing, but Sakamoto's side was getting loud: he saw the guy bashfully trying to get through a coversation before excusing himself shortly thereafter with a cigarette in his mouth.
Anxiety bubbled in his guts as he sat alone and confused, bothered by the mental image of you and Sakamoto outside, bumping into each other. Would Sakamoto notice something was up with you? He might - the senior was sensible and keen-eyed. Lukas wasn't in love with small details, but he had seen the way the man covered for your lies on the spot. Short on breath, he caught his own fingers playing with the hem of his button-down shirt. Lukas tried to remind himself that whatever fixation he had on you should come to a stop, but amidst a feverish daze he couldn't resist the instinct to insert himself into your narrative. He didn't care if your mood would worsen. In fact, he hoped it would. He hoped you would take it out on him. Pulling himself up, he hurried after you.
By the restaurant entrance Lukas looked left and right, his heart racing. He didn't like that the reason he chose to be out was to interrupt your conversation, so he convinced himself that he was looking for something else, like a convenient store to get a pack of smoke. After all, he had a bad habit of craving them when he drank. Maybe, he could even look for Sakamoto and ask for one.
Lukas walked down the street, his eyes scanning faces of strangers. They didn't look his way, blurring past him like shadows. He wondered if he looked the same to you - a flash of color that breezed by, flat, voiceless, inconsequential. He didn't have time to let that thought eat him away when he caught Sakamoto's tall form leaning against a wall, half of his body hidden in an alleyway. Lukas took a long stride toward the man only in time for the buildings to move to the backend of his vision, revealing you who were giving a lit cigarette back.
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inkdrinkerworld ¡ 1 year ago
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Dad!Sirius who is absolutely determined to be a better father and husband than his own father ever was. He will constantly spoil his wife and daughter, and the amount of times she’s walked out of her and Sirius’ bedroom to see Sirius lying on the couch with his daughter’s tiny body on top of him is insane. He’s the best dad in the whole world. Also his daughter would absolutely be besties with Harry!
You get home to an eerily quiet house. Sirius is at home with your daughter this week- the flu had been wracking her body and all she’d wanted was her dad.
Not that you could really blame her- Sirius was perfect with her.
There was something in the way he was just able to settle her crankiness with a couple of kisses and little massages to the length of her legs that made going to work a little more bearable.
Daphné also had Sirius wrapped tight around her little fingers- she’d only have to puff her cheeks and quiver her lip and as fast as she’d been given a ‘no’, Sirius’ heart would clench and he’d be doing whatever she asked in seconds.
You find them cuddled up on the couch as you step inside- the house clean and smelling like fresh laundry and hint of milk.
Sirius is flat on his back, head propped up by a couple cushions while DaphnĂŠ lays on his chest, silky curls braided neatly down her back.
“Hi Siri,” your voice is quiet when you realize Daphné is asleep, pressing a soft kiss to Sirius’ forehead.
“Hey, dolly, how was work?” You shrug and Sirius smiles. He juts his chin to the kitchen, “There’s a bit of soup left if you’re hungry. Was thinking maybe we could make toasties for dinner.”
You smile, sitting on the floor beside your babies. “How was she?” You whisper, finger inching towards her chubby cheek that’s a little paler than usual.
She’s Sirius’ twin for the most part, skin fair and hair just a dark, but her eyes and nose (and maybe her attitude, if Sirius tells the truth) are all you.
“Cranky, god knows I hate seeing her like that,” Sirius sounds as distraught as you look. Seeing her sick, her little two year old body fighting something so harsh, makes him worried. “Then I caved and gave her a bottle.”
You shake your head teasingly. “It was breast milk!” Sirius defends quickly. “Full of antibodies and all that, knocked her right out with that cough syrup the doctor recommended.”
You coo, stamping a kiss to Sirius’ bicep. “I’m only teasing Siri, she’s not too old for a little bit of milk.”
She really isn’t, but you don’t want to get it back to a regular food item in her diet. Maybe only if she’s poorly, you decide to yourself.
“Other than that?” You ask, watching her nose wriggle as you stroke it.
“An angel! I’m telling you, Daphné’s a saint, dolly.”
“Daphné could rip apart every sheet of music you have and you’d think she was interceding from the gods, Siri.” You laugh, already envisioning Sirius having a hard time reprimanding her.
“She would be!” She’s going to be the most spoilt baby the world has ever seen and you’re going to enjoy every second of it and so will Sirius.
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kikyo-writes ¡ 1 year ago
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Can we get a scenario for Shigaraki with a healer girlfriend that always fusses over him when he gets injured?? And he tries to play it off like it's no big deal but he secretly loves being spoiled by her
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The moment Shigaraki gets back to the hideout, he is greeted by your wide-eyed, panicked expression.  
“Tomura!” you cry out, rushing over to him. “What... what happened? You’re hurt!”  
Granted, you’re not wrong. Part of his clothing has been torn up, and there are noticeable gashes on his skin peeking through the frayed fabric. He's taken enough damage that he's even walking with a bit of a limp, and he has to admit that it’s a pain in the ass.  
Despite all that, Shigaraki just shrugs in response.  
“I’m fine,” he dismisses. “Just let my guard down for a bit. Don’t worry. The other guys are dead, so in comparison, they barely did anything to me.”  
You puff out your cheeks, and even though he knows you’re worried, you’re so goddamn cute that it’s kind of hard to take you seriously.  
“Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you don’t need to take care of yourself,” you chastise him.  
Shigaraki shrugs again. “It’s no big deal. I barely even feel anything.”
That’s a total lie, but he does his best to act tough around you. Besides, it wouldn’t reflect well on him if the leader of the League of Villains was whining over a few little injuries, right?  
Instead of responding, you just roll your eyes, grab him by the wrist, then pull him into one of the rooms.  
“Even if it’s not a big deal to you, it is to me,” you remind him. You lightly push on his shoulders and force him to sit down. “Now, stay there. I’m not letting you leave until you’re good as new.”  
Apart from his mentor, All for One, Shigaraki is the most dangerous villain to date. There’s practically no one who doesn’t cower in fear when they hear his name. He’s powerful enough to reduce anything to dust, and he watches in delight as no-good heroes die from his bare hands.  
That’s the kind of person he is, and yet, you still worry about him.  
Shigaraki isn’t sure how it happened, but he must have plucked an angel from the sky. Well, a corrupted angel who willingly supports a murderer, but an angel all the same.  
You lean forward, knitting your brows together, and slowly but surely, your palms begin to glow with bright, warm light.  
Even Shigaraki, as determined as he is to act unbothered, can’t help but sigh in relief as you press your gentle, glowing fingers against his injuries. He can feel the pain ebb away, gradually at first, and then all at once.  
Seriously, he struck the goldmine. Not only does his party have a healer now, but she’s also his super-hot girlfriend. Lately, he has to admit that life is pretty damn good.  
“How does that feel?” you ask, making sure not to apply too much pressure.  
Shigaraki nods sleepily. There’s something about your Quirk that makes him let his guard down and feel especially at ease. Although that can be said about being around you in general.  
You run your fingers over every single wound, even the ones that are small enough not to warrant any attention. His body is back to being in near-perfect shape, but he knows that using your Quirk comes at the cost of your own energy, and you let out a heavy sigh, slumping down onto his lap.  
“That’s why I said you didn’t need to do this,” Shigaraki frowns. “Look. You’re exhausted now.”  
You shake your head, mustering up a smile. “No. It’s fine. A bit of fatigue is nothing if I know that you’re safe. I just always want you to be safe. Okay, Tomura?”  
Before he can even respond, you cradle his cheek and lead his lips towards yours, meeting him in a soft, featherlight kiss. His face instinctively flushes, and he wraps his arms around you as quickly as possible, hoping to prolong the moment.  
“I know you only worry because you care,” he acknowledges. His lips trace yours for a moment, and when he kisses you again, it’s deeper and more urgent than before. “I... love you,” he mumbles. As usual, it’s hard for him to say the words. He always thought that someone like him didn’t deserve love, wasn’t even capable of it. But meeting you changed that, and now, he knows better.  
“I love you too, Tomura.”  
You smile back at him again. Perhaps he’s biased because you’re his girlfriend, but he really thinks you’re the most gorgeous human being on the entire planet. You make him feel warm and comfortable. He’s strong enough to kill anyone who dares to fuck with him, that much is true, but even so, it’s nice having someone who puts his wellbeing first. 
Shigaraki squeezes you tight, and he watches in adoration as your eyelids slowly fall shut, the strain of your Quirk finally catching up with you. If you happen to fall asleep on his lap, he knows he won’t be moving for the next couple of hours. But it’s fine.  
You took care of him, and now it’s his turn to take care of you.  
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pinkmirth ¡ 1 year ago
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⸻ 𝒢ℰ𝒯 𝒰𝒫!
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༉‧₊˚. 𝓈𝓎𝓃ℴ𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: it’s reiner’s special day! what better way to start his morning than by treating him to a sweet surprise?
༉‧₊˚. 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈: ( 1k+ words of . . . ) reiner braun x fem!reader, slight fluff, nsfw/smut, modern au, fem!reader (black coded), established relationship, consented somnophilia, oral (m. receiving), use of pet names (ex. sugar, baby, honey, mama), lowercase intended, all characters are adults, explicit language, minors shoo!
༉‧₊˚. 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇: happy birthday to reiner fuckin’ braun, my favorite man in the whole wide world!!! he deserves a million big fat wet kisses and a billion more hugs. i can only convert my love for him into a smutty little drabble, so here we have it! (title’s kinda-sorta inspired by new jean’s song ‘cause it was on replay while i wrote this . . .) just wanted to put out something sweet for papa reiner’s big day, hope y’all enjoy! 🎀
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the calendar’s graced with the change of a new month– the first of august.
today’s particularly special; reiner turning a year older. the sheets of your shared bed rustle about as you make attempts to stretch, but you’re stilled by the weight of reiner— particularly his extended arm strewn over your hip. it’s futile to try and move, especially when your husband sleeps like a log.
it’s amusing to observe his stillness; your drowsy eyes fixate on reiner in what you can only call pure adoration. beside you he rests, the breadth of his naked chest rising and falling in tandem with every puff of air that comes and goes. wispy fringes of blonde fall across his forehead, slightly outgrown as it’s been a good month or more since his last haircut. reiner’s generally furrowed expression is now easy and light, with his lips parted in the slightest to release subtle snores. even in a haze of sleep, he looks nothing short of ethereal.
you wonder what you could do to start his day memorably; breakfast in bed isn't even an option, considering that reiner might wind up spilling orange juice and breadcrumbs on the covers.
still, you intend to spoil him however you can, so you opt on waking him in the best way imaginable– a lovingly nasty blowjob. he’d mentioned it a couple nights back, how he wouldn’t mind if he arose to the sight of you sucking him off. carefully, you slink out from his hold and delve beneath the sheets, pressing chaste kisses wherever you can manage to reach. the brush of your lips aren’t enough to move him. reiner doesn’t wake, not just yet.
with limber movements, you continue to work your way further down, dragging off his plaid-print boxers until you’ve gained enough access. there his cock lies, soft against the thick expanse of his left thigh. he’s girthy, even without any stimuli. reiner’s always had some width to him, though he’s softer right now— easier to take into your mouth. your plush lips separate, eagerly so, trapping his dusty-pink tip between them. your head lowers, easing inch by inch into your pliant mouth. a tiny groan escapes him, and you pause. he tosses left, but remains at rest.
reiner doesn’t yet know how doting you’re being; lathering him in wet kisses and spit-smeared kitten licks, curious to see how much it’ll move him. saliva seeps past your mouth, down your chin and makes a mess of his now-twitching shaft. you know how much he’d love such a view.
the bob of your head is lax and controlled, suckling his cockhead until it pulses on your tongue— growing bigger and hotter until he eventually awakens. reiner squints at the beams of sun that pour into the room, rolling his muscular neck around to loosen any stubborn fatigue. his hair’s cutely tousled, golden eyes hooded with sleep. he displays a dazed half-grin, one that proves he’s currently unaware, but fuck, does he like whatever it is he’s feeling.
“ooh— g’mornin’, baby,” a dozy reiner manages to rasp out. the low bass of his voice channels from deep in his throat, and the addition of sleepiness atop it makes you throb. reiner peels the milk-white covers away, gladdened by the sight of you between his legs, as vulgar as it may be. his sizeable palm reaches for your face, caressing with gentility.
“happy birthday, rei,” you mumble out, a sliver of spit tethering your puffy lips to his big cock. it takes him a moment to register your words; he’d been much too focused on how nicely your mouth felt wrapped around him.
“that’s today already, huh?” he recalls amidst an eye-watering yawn. it’s ridiculous to think that he almost forgot his own damn birthday . . . it’s just that you’re working him so well, the pleasure must be dumbing him down. at times, you think you take his birthday more seriously than he does himself.
“i booked us a reservation for later tonight, baby. it’s at that steakhouse you like,” while sweetly carrying on with conversation, your unoccupied hand curls around his dick. each stroke is firm and well-paced, with just the right amount of pressure to make reiner shudder. “mm, t-that sounds nice, sugar,” he’s choking on his words already. soon enough, he’ll reach his limit. you dip your head back down with a sense of resolve, hoping to pry a good and thorough orgasm out of him.
you moan around him, and his toes curl against the duvet. your cheeks hollow, going faster as a means of prompting him closer to ecstasy. those pretty eyes of yours shining so earnestly, peering up at him with such a strong aim to please might just be the very thing that ruins him completely.
reiner allows his thumb to run across your cheek, though the motion’s done a little shakier than normal. you can't blame him much; he’s hardly able to stay composed when you’ve got the entirety of his cock shoved down your throat. “you’re so good to me, honey,” reiner groans out. his voice drops a bit, sounds a little fainter. you can’t tell whether it’s the doing of his impending orgasm or sheer gratitude. “— always so fuckin’ good to me.”
your tongue traces down a protruding vein and swirls around the base of him. you can feel his twitching grow all the more rapid, with each passing second.
“gonna cum?” you coo to him, receiving the hasty nod of his head in response. “mhm . . . keep going, mama, please,” is his low whine, and you’re quick to comply. today, he’s getting whatever his heart desires. your mouth runs hot against him, and you bring a hand to tug at his girthy underside. suctioning lips, touchy hands— it’s the merging of both that undoes him. breathless moans and profanities flow, and he just can’t help but throw his head back at how lewdly you’re drinking up his cum, sucking him dry. you swallow all he has to offer, leaving not a droplet to go to waste.
a hefty sigh escapes him. you crawl your way up his broad frame, making abode upon his chest with your face to his pecs. you crack a smile over the fervent hammering of his heart’s rhythm against your ear.
“love you so much,” reiner says in a breezy whisper. he cranes his neck downwards to present a kiss to you. smoothly, his lips slide against yours, colliding effortlessly. he can taste remnants of himself on your tongue.
“and i love you,” your manicured fingertips dance along his collarbone. from the angle you’re admiring him in, reiner appears serene. happy, better put.
‘fucked out’ is certainly a good look on the birthday boy.
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clarisse0o ¡ 5 months ago
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Camp Wiegman-Part 31
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe : Military School
Words : 5k
Masterlist
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Wednesday, January 6th, 2:45 PM - Class
Three days since classes resumed. Nothing much has changed for now. The only difference is that I can finally go back to the common room after class. My exams are finally over, and I've caught up on all my classes. It’s nice to be able to hang out with my friends again, especially Alexia since we'll soon be in different classes if all goes well. We should receive our responses to our choices tomorrow. The class council meeting will take place in a few hours. Yet the teachers haven't become any less annoying at the end of this semester. I'm relieved when the bell rings, signaling the end of our last class. Ale and I walk out with smiles on our faces. I received my last grade today, and let’s just say I aced it all.
"Hey, Bronze!" I shout when I see her in the hallway.
I apologize to Alexia, telling her not to wait for me, then walk over to meet my advisor, who's pinning up posters on a notice board. Apart from the morning checks, we've barely seen each other since classes started again. She's been less on my back, but I can tell she's still watching me from the shadows ever since I told her about Feli.
"Ona. How can I help you?"
I show her my math paper, proudly displaying a red fifteen. She congratulates me before continuing her work, without giving me much more attention. She’s distant. It's like she resents me for hiding Feli's intentions from her. I hate it when she makes me regret things. She should know that this situation already affects me enough without her adding her two cents.
"Can I ask you something?" 
"Help me, then, if you're going to stick around."
I nod and hold the poster for her while she tapes it up. She pauses for a moment to take a look.
"So? What did you want to ask me?"
"I wanted to know if you could buy me a new phone? Or at least come with me to get one this weekend? Ever since mine broke, I haven’t been able to contact anyone."
"No."
My smile fades at her refusal, catching me off guard. I was expecting there wouldn’t be any problem. I hadn’t even prepared to convince her otherwise.
"What do you mean, no?"
"The answer is no. You won't be getting a new phone."
"But why? You already keep me here, and I'm getting tired of having to bother Ale every time I need to borrow hers."
"I said no, Ona. Don’t insist."
"But, but..." I stammer desperately. "You’re cutting me off from the world!"
I let go of the poster to face her. It falls to the ground since it was only attached on one side. Lucy sighs in frustration at the mess I made. It probably got torn, but that's the least of my worries right now.
"Pick it up, please."
I squint at her, but her stern gaze wins by a long shot. I give in and pick it up. I put it back in place so she can fix my mistake. I only let go once it's properly secured this time, then cross my arms, waiting for her response before continuing to help her.
"I don't see why you'd say no."
"And I don't see why you're reacting like this. You’re acting like a spoiled child."
"Yeah, well, I don’t like it when you tell me no."
"Someone has to, so you understand that not everything is a given."
I puff out my cheeks under her amused look. 1-0 for her. I finally sigh when she gives me a small hug and hands me a new poster.
"Come on, stop acting like a child. I’m doing this for your own good."
"I don't see how," I mutter.
"You don't see why?" she raises an eyebrow.
"No, I don't. How is refusing me a new phone for my own good?"
"Well, for starters, your ex is a dangerous psychopath. Does that answer your question?"
"That’s not a reason," I complain in a displeased whine.
"It is. By now, she’s probably still harassing your number, so if you want a new phone, you’ll need to change your number first."
I'm so tired of her always being right. I didn’t dare put my SIM card in Alexia’s phone for that exact reason. I didn’t want to face her messages and calls.
"Fine..." I concede, facing the facts.
"I can help you sort this out, but in the meantime, you’ll have to make do with Alexia’s phone or mine if you really need to contact someone."
I feel ashamed for thinking she just wanted to stop me from communicating. She only wants to make sure Feli can’t find me. She’s redoing all the steps my mother took a year and a half ago.
"I’m sorry..."
She smiles, ruffling my hair in response. I help her hang the last poster, and she picks up the old ones she left on the floor before we head down the stairs.
"The steps are going to be complicated... My mom usually handles that kind of thing since she pays for my plan. I have no idea how to do it."
"I figured. That’s why I’m offering to do it together since you’ll need to call her."
"Are you serious?"
"You want a phone, don’t you?"
I groan, already knowing what her next answer will be. How am I going to ask my mom to change my SIM card without explaining the situation? I didn’t want her to know. I need to prove to her that I can handle things without her intervening in my life.
"Luce?"
"I already told you not to call me that here, Ona," she scolds.
"Sorry... But... Do you think I’ll have to tell my mom about... Feli and all that?"
"I won’t force you to tell her if you don’t want to, but she’ll need an explanation. As a mother, I’d want to know about this kind of thing with my kids. But I know you’re not on good terms with her, so it’s up to you."
"I’ve been wanting to switch to another mobile phone plan for a while. This could be a good opportunity to negotiate."
"Then you just have to come up with a believable excuse," she says, stopping in the hall. "In the meantime, you’ll have to wait. By the way, you’ll need to give me your phone. Or I’ll come to your room tonight instead. I want to destroy your SIM card."
"Okay... Do you think the stolen phone excuse will work?"
"Maybe," she shrugs. "Now, can I get back to work?"
"Can I stay with you?"
"Now that you’re rid of me, you want to stick around?" she laughs.
"I never wanted to get rid of you," I say, following her to her office. "Well..."
I turn around and walk backward. I return her smile when we face each other.
"Maybe that was the case at first. But it’s not anymore!"
Unexpectedly, Lucy grabs my arm. She must have underestimated her strength because I find myself pressed against her. She takes a step back, apologizing. I frown when I realize the apology isn’t directed at me.
"My apologies, Mrs. Wiegman. She’s a bit scatterbrained when she wants to be."
I widen my eyes, realizing who’s behind me. I slowly turn around to indeed see the principal I almost ran into. Luckily, she said her name, or I would have made a fool of myself. This time I would’ve gotten scolded by Wiegman herself.
"No worries, it’s more fear than harm. Did Ona cause any trouble again?"
"Oh, no, no. She just told me she lost her phone. We’re going to call her mom to have it blocked."
"Did it get stolen here?" she asks me.
"Uh, no. It happened outside the camp... I haven’t had time to tell Bronze," I lie.
"Oh. Will you take care of it, Miss Bronze?"
"Of course. That was my intention."
"Good, I must go. I have a class council meeting to attend. Yours, in fact," she informs me.
"Oh..." I murmur, feeling uneasy.
"Good evening."
She continues on her way to the stairs. I feel Lucy’s hand on my lower back, urging me to move forward. That was a close call. I enter her office, which is empty. Lucy drops the posters she was still holding into a bin and sits behind her desk.
"Is Ingrid not here today?"
"She is, just not here."
"Okay," I reply, sitting across from her. "Why did you say that to Wiegman? Are you really going to call my mom?"
"Of course not," she laughs. "I don’t even have her contact info. I just didn’t want her to know you’re staying in my office for fun."
"Hum..." I mutter, resting my head in my hands. "Hey, I’ve had a question on my mind for a while."
"Hum?"
"Why did you take it so badly that Jenni and-"
We’re interrupted by a noise at the door. We both look toward it, and I’m surprised to see Alessia there. She seems just as surprised as I am. My advisor breaks our eye contact by inviting her in. She hands her a paper about a student who apparently went to the infirmary, if I understood correctly. Lucy needs to sign it to acknowledge that the student won’t be returning to class.
"Aren’t you with the others?" she asks me.
"No," I reply simply.
"Are you going to join them?"
"I don’t know, maybe," I shrug.
"My office isn’t a tea room," Lucy says harshly, handing back the paper.
"Sorry," Alessia replies. "Thanks for signing the paper."
"Hum. Now get back to class."
Alessia nods, giving me one last look. She says, "See you later," before leaving the room for good. I follow her with my eyes before turning back to Lucy. She rolls her eyes, making me chuckle.
"She really doesn’t leave you alone, does she? What was that New Year's thing with her?" she asks.
"Mapi wanted to prove to me that she’s got me in her sights, if you know what I mean. She stuck to me all night to make her jealous."
"Well, it seems like she succeeded, given the way she’s eyeing you."
"You should’ve seen, she got wasted before midnight," I sigh.
"And does she interest you?"
"No. I found her nice, but much less so since we disagreed on a subject. And besides, she’s not my type. Even if she was, I don’t want to get into a relationship right now. As you said yourself, I have a dangerous ex-psychopath."
"That doesn’t stop you from having a new relationship. Maybe not with Alessia, but with someone else in your life could help you move on."
"Drop it," I mutter. "I don’t want to talk about it."
I avoid the conversation by burying my head in my arms. I hear her sigh, but it seems she drops the subject, getting back to work based on the noises I hear. I wait a few more minutes to make sure before lifting my head from my hiding place. I smile when I see she’s wearing her glasses. I love seeing her with them; she wears them so well.
"I can understand that you had a disastrous relationship, but to the point of not wanting another one..."
And she’s back at it. I roll my eyes in exasperation.
"I’m not ready, that’s all. I understand that everyone’s different, but I can’t. There are still too many scars."
"Okay, no need to take it like that," she rolls her eyes in turn. "I won’t insist on the subject anymore."
She finally goes silent, much to my relief. I continue to watch her, or rather, admire her as she works. I have to admit, she has a lot of charisma. Our silence reminds me that I didn’t get to finish my question about my roommate’s relationship. That’ll have to wait for another time. Since she decided to stop talking, I rest my head in my arms and enjoy the quiet to relax.
Wednesday, January 6th; 6:15 PM - Instructor's Office.
I groan as tremors take over my body. I gradually emerge, remembering where I am. I sit up and rub my eyes, catching Lucy's smug smile.
- "About time."
- "What time is it?" I murmur sleepily.
- "Quarter past six."
- "What?" I exclaim, fully awake now. "You let me sleep? For two hours?"
- "Actually, you left me talking to thin air for a while. I realized at some point that you’d fallen asleep, so I decided to let you be. You looked like you needed it."
- "You should’ve woken me up earlier! I wanted to join the others!" I grumble.
- "Well, you'll spend time with them tomorrow."
I sigh, stretching to chase away the stiffness in my body from the nap. Lucy mocks me.
- "Come here."
Without thinking, I lean over the desk. My reflex is to pull back when I see her hands approach my face. She chuckles.
- "Come on, I just want to clean up your smudged makeup."
I lean forward again, understanding her intent. I roll my eyes as she wipes under them with her thumbs.
- "There, all done," she smiles.
- "Thanks, and thanks for letting me sleep," I say, slumping back against the chair.
- "You’re welcome. I knew it would do you some good."
- "If you say so," I reply playfully, rolling my eyes. "Any news from the class council?"
- "No, sorry. And even if I did, you'd have to wait until tomorrow, like everyone else."
- "You’re mean," I pout.
- "Patience. I’m sure you’ll know more by tomorrow morning."
- "I hope so. Weren't you supposed to attend?"
- "No, it's just for the teachers and the principal in this kind of meeting."
- "I didn’t know that."
- "You couldn’t have known," she smiles. "Anyway, didn’t you want to meet up with your friends?"
- "At this hour, I’ll just join them at the cafeteria."
- "Alright. So can we talk about the insomnia you mentioned on New Year's? I doubt your little nap was a coincidence."
- "On second thought… Maybe I’ll go meet the others..."
- "Too late, your chance to escape is gone," she teases.
She’s only half-joking, as I know she won’t let me go now. Why does she have to remember everything?
- "They persist, but I’m managing," I say honestly.
- "I thought I told you to talk to me if that was the case," she frowns.
- "I’ll tell you if it gets worse."
- "So it could get worse?"
Clearly, I tend to speak too quickly with her. She manages to get me to talk so naturally. I’ll have to learn to watch my words if I don’t want her to know too much.
- "A few weeks before starting school, I had nightmares. I’d wake up in the middle of the night, and it’s starting to happen again. They’re not as bad right now, but they could become more intense."
- "See, this is exactly the kind of thing you should talk to me about more often."
- "I’m sorry," I sigh. "There was a time when I wasn’t having them anymore… I didn’t think they’d come back."
- "Do you want to talk to me about these nightmares?"
- "No. They’re about my past... It’s nothing important," I lie.
- "Hmm," she responds skeptically. "And what’s the worst consequence you’ve had so far?"
- "A panic attack, I guess. The nightmares feel so real that they make me panic," I admit in a whisper.
She sighs, running a hand over her face. I bite my lip, thinking I probably should have told her as soon as they returned. I wanted to avoid worrying her over something so minor while I was still in Barcelona. I had hoped to solve the problem before coming back, but that wasn’t the case. Seeing Feli again must be the cause. I’m angry at myself for not being able to shake it off. I had managed to get rid of it before coming here.
- "Alright. If it gets worse, I want you to tell me as soon as possible, and if you have a panic attack, I want to be notified. Is that clear?"
I nod, not daring to argue. Her tone leaves no room for disobedience.
- "I’ll also inform the night supervisors on your floor."
Great... Now I’ll have to be even more discreet than before. Well, at least they’ll be warned if something more serious happens. I don’t think it will, but you never know. I’d hate to disturb Lucy in the middle of the night. I’m already bothered just by the thought of possibly waking up Alexia if I’m not careful.
- "Alright, I’m done with my work. We can head to the cafeteria together if you want."
- "Yeah."
- "No homework for tomorrow?"
- "No. Our teachers aren’t giving us anything since we change classes next week."
- "Oh right, silly me."
- "By the way, um..." I begin hesitantly. "Can you help me with that? Well, not really help, but supervise me or something like that. I was more serious when you were helping me, and I might slack off if you’re not on my case anymore..."
I feel embarrassed seeing her raise an eyebrow. I don’t like asking for this kind of thing, so I sink into my chair as if it would make me disappear. A refusal from her would be utterly humiliating. Finally, she gives me a silly smile.
- "You’re going to end up on the floor if you keep sinking like that."
- "Oh, shut up," I say, sitting up straight. "I’m not used to asking for this kind of thing. I’ve always managed on my own until now."
- "Oh, but I didn’t say anything," she smiles a bit more.
- "But you’re thinking it really loudly!"
- "Here, after your classes. You can manage your time based on how much homework you have. Does that work for you?"
- "Really?"
- "Yes, of course. But I won’t be able to help you as much as before. I’ll only step in if it’s absolutely necessary. Don’t forget that I have a job too."
- "No worries. I just need your supervision to stay motivated."
- "I know," she smiles. "We’ll start when you switch classes and all that."
- "Yep, that works for me."
- "Good," she says, closing her binder. "Now, how about we go eat? I’m hungry."
I nod enthusiastically. She puts away her binder while I grab my jacket and bag. The building is empty at this hour. She locks the main door behind us. It’s pitch black and still freezing outside. I tighten my jacket as I see snowflakes clinging to the ground.
- "Does it ever stop snowing here?" I complain.
- "I think we’ll have it for a little while longer," she laughs.
- "How do you handle it, coming from Portugal too?"
- "Well, you get used to it, and I don’t complain as much as you," she teases.
I sigh and cross my arms to preserve my warmth. She’s probably right. Lucy complains less than I do. We reach the cafeteria, where she waits with me at the entrance after I tell her I see my friends coming from a distance.
- "Still good for this weekend?"
- "Of course, if you’re still up for it. It’s your only way out of school anyway, since I’m not letting you go home."
- "So I can crash at your place in return?"
- "I never said that. I said a weekend, not multiple."
- "You’re forbidding me from going home. You owe me at least that."
- "I don’t owe you anything," she laughs. "I’m doing this for you," she adds with a wink.
- "Yeah, right."
I turn around when I hear the door open with a rather noisy group. Bingo, it’s my friends.
- "Well, enjoy your meal."
- "Thanks, you too," I wish her.
We exchange a smile before she leaves with Ingrid, who arrived shortly after my friends entered. Everyone heads to the dining hall except Alexia, who comes over to me.
- "So, what were you doing after class?"
- "I was with Bronze for a bit. I wanted to join you all after, but I fell asleep at her desk," I admit.
- "Bravo," she teases.
Alexia is in the best position to know that I’m running on short nights. I had to tell her. I could have hidden it, but I wanted to avoid scaring her by going to the bathroom in the middle of the night. That’s where I need to go to pull myself together. Given my clumsiness, I’d probably wake her up by accident while doing so. It hasn’t happened yet, but stealth isn’t my strong suit. For example, on the first night, I bumped into my desk. Last night, I stubbed my little toe on the bed frame... I’m already dreading what will happen tonight.
We arrive at our table with our trays full. I start eating while they tell me about what I missed after class. It doesn’t seem like much since they didn’t do much except play foosball. Everyone is here tonight, which is quite rare. At least, that's what I thought until I noticed someone was missing.
- "Isn't your sister eating with us tonight?" I asked Leah.
- "Nah, she told me she's eating with her friends. Why?"
- "Just curious. I saw her this afternoon, so I expected to see her with you guys."
- "Oh yeah? Where was that?"
I explained to her what happened in Lucy's office. Based on what she told me, I thought she'd be here. I hope she didn't take it badly that Lucy kicked her out of her office. I didn't really understand why Lucy acted that way. Since the topic of Alessia was brought up, Alexia took the opportunity to question Leah about me to see if she knew anything. I quickly kicked her under the table, not particularly wanting to discuss such matters in front of everyone. It didn't convince Alexia, though, who seemed determined to find out more.
- "I have no idea," she replied. "We don't meddle in each other's relationships. Why, are you interested?"
The question caught me off guard. We had never discussed this kind of thing together before. She didn't seem to mean any harm, judging by the smile on her face.
- "Oh no, not really," I replied, smiling back. "I just like her as a friend, that's all. It's just that Ale and Mapi have been fixated on this since New Year's, so she couldn't resist asking you."
- "What's your type, anyway?" Alba asked.
- "I don't have any particular preference. I suppose brunettes, since all my exes were. But I don't just judge by appearance."
- "Speaking of brunettes..."
I furrowed my brows at Claudia's insinuation. I quickly understood what she meant when I jumped at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see my supervisor's green eyes staring back at me. Since I was facing away from their table today, I didn't see her approach.
- "Don't you get tired of scaring me all the time?"
- "It's not my fault you get startled so easily," she smiled. "When are you heading back to your room?"
- "Probably after dinner," I shrugged. "Why?"
- "Aren't you going to the common room first?"
- "I don't think so," I said, briefly glancing at Ale for confirmation.
- "I'll stop by after eight to fix your phone problem."
- "I can handle it myself, you know."
- "No. I said I'd take care of it. See you later."
I groaned as she ruffled my hair before walking away. I watched her until she left the room. When I looked back at the table, I noticed everyone was staring at me.
- "What?"
- "What's this phone problem?" Patri asked.
- "My phone's dead. I threw it in a fit of anger."
- "Do you want us to take a look at it?" Claudia offered. "Maybe we can fix it?"
- "I don't think so. It's in pieces, so I doubt you could do much, but thanks for offering."
- "Whatever you say."
- "Come on, finish your meal. The last thing we need is Bronze getting on our case for being late."
- "Relax," I teased. "If she takes it out on anyone, it'll be me, not you."
I finished my meal, as I was one of the last ones eating. It was clear the issue between Ale and Lucy was far from resolved. It seemed like she was trying to make a good impression at every opportunity. I really need to talk to Lucy about it. Once we all finished, we headed back to our rooms just before eight. No one felt like going to the common room. We made it back in time, as Lucy arrived a few minutes later. For the first time, she sat next to me on the bed instead of taking my desk chair. She got straight to the point, asking for my phone. She started working on it while asking Alexia if she had a good day. Alexia seemed too surprised to respond properly, which made me smile. She was so thrown off that she excused herself to go take a shower.
- "Are you really going to destroy it?" I asked when I saw her remove the SIM card.
- "I'm going to put it in my phone first. Do you have something to write with nearby?"
- "For what?"
- "To save important numbers, like Mapi's, for example."
I nodded and went to get some paper and a pen. By the time I returned, she had already inserted the SIM card into her phone. She handed it to me so I could enter my passcode to unlock it. Lucy looked over my shoulder as notifications flooded the screen. I bit my lip at the many missed calls and unread messages. Most were from unknown numbers. The rest were from Mapi, worried about not hearing from me.
- "Can I read them?" she asked.
I nodded and handed it back to her. I had nothing to hide and preferred she read them herself rather than me. Curiosity got the better of me, though, and I noticed she started with Mapi's messages. One message in particular caught my attention. I panicked and tried to grab the phone from her, but Lucy held me off.
- "No, please! Don't read that nonsense!"
I nearly crushed her, but she managed to pin my hand behind her back and wrapped her arm around my neck. My free hand tried to reach the phone, but it was a lost cause as she stretched her arm out of reach.
- "'Sexy Commander took away your phone?'" she read, raising an eyebrow. "What's with that nickname?" she laughed. "I assume she's talking about me?"
I stopped struggling now that she had read the one thing I didn't want her to. She looked at me amusedly, waiting for an answer.
- "It's just a Mapi thing. I already told her to stop, but you know how she is; once she starts something, it's a lost cause."
- "Hmm," she smiled. "You'll have to explain the origin of that nickname one day. I imagine it's not new."
- "You don't need to know everything in life."
- "But I want to know," she challenged.
- "I think we have more important things to do, don't we?"
- "You're right, but you won't get away with it," she teased. "Let's check the other messages."
She released her hold on me so I could sit properly next to her. Most of the messages were from unknown numbers. It couldn't be Feli's since I blocked her. But the content of the messages made it clear it was her. They were full of apologies or "let me talk to you." Some even contained the violence and anger of being ignored. I eventually stopped reading, but Lucy kept going until the end. She said nothing before telling me to grab something to write with. I listened as she started dictating the numbers I needed. I didn't save many. The first ones I took were Mapi's, Sam's, and Lucy's. I also kept the numbers of my high school friends I reconnected with, as well as my mom's, the house's, and Marcus's. Since the SIM card would be destroyed, I might as well keep them. She turned off her phone, removed the SIM card, and unceremoniously broke it. She folded it several times until it snapped in two. I wasn't sure what I was feeling at that moment.
- "Are you okay?"
- "Yeah... Thanks for doing all this."
- "If you need to communicate, you can come see me, and I'll lend you my phone."
I nodded, biting my lip. She raised her arm, inviting me to snuggle against her. I sighed as she stroked my hair to help me relax. I'll never understand why she gets so involved in my problems, but I'm really glad she does. From the beginning, she said she wouldn't let me go, and she wasn't lying. I'm developing a real affection for her, and it's growing stronger every day. I moved away from her when Alexia interrupted us by coming out of the bathroom. She doesn't know the extent of our relationship. Plus, since I know things aren't going well between them, I don't want her to know about us.
- "Alexia?" my supervisor called.
- "Yes?"
- "If one night things get really bad for Ona, I want to be notified. You'll tell the instructor in charge of surveillance."
- "I can handle myself just fine," I retorted.
- "Be quiet; I'm not talking to you," she scolded me harshly. "I know you won't tell me. Can I count on you, Alexia?" she asked.
- "Yes, of course."
- "Good. I'm going back to my room now that everything's settled. Good night, girls."
- "Good night," Ale and I replied.
She closed the door behind her. I sighed and collapsed onto the bed. My break was short-lived, as I still needed to shower before crawling under the sheets.
Thursday, January 7th; 3:30 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room
I woke up to persistent shaking. I was completely disoriented. I looked around to get my bearings. I felt like I was suffocating, like I couldn't breathe. I realized what was happening when I saw Alexia's panicked face. She forced me to look at her by gripping my head between her hands. I felt sticky and tried to catch my breath as best I could.
- "Hey Ona! It's just me, calm down. Do you want me to call someone?
I shake my head slowly. I don’t want to disturb anyone else. I have no idea what just happened, but my condition doesn’t look good. Alexia nervously bites her lip. She doesn’t seem to agree with me.
- "I need to inform Bronze... She was clear about her orders..."
- "No," I almost shout. "It’s fine, I promise... D-don’t wake her for nothing."
- "Ona... It took me ten minutes to wake you up... You were really panicked, and you were almost screaming in your sleep. She made me promise to inform her... I don’t want to get on her bad side more than I already am! She’s my boyfriend’s best friend," she adds dramatically.
- "D-don’t call her," I insist. "I’ll deal with her when the time comes. I-I, it’ll be okay. You can go back to sleep."
- "No way. You were having a panic attack, weren’t you?"
I sigh and get out of bed. Alexia remains sitting while I search for a new pajama set in my wardrobe. She watches me until I’m in the bathroom. I change because my pajamas are soaked with sweat. I sigh as I lean against the sink. When I open my eyes, I see my roommate watching me intently from the doorway. She looks really worried, which only makes things worse.
- "I’m fine."
- "Don’t lie to me. Who’s Feli? You kept saying her name, telling her to stop."
- "Please keep this to yourself."
- "If you don’t tell me, I’ll find Bronze right now."
- "She’s my ex, nothing more," I concede. "And stop being afraid of her. She’s not that scary once you get to know her a little."
- "I didn’t know you were that close to her..."
I let out yet another sigh as I splash water on my face to clear my head. I then dry my face.
- "That’s not the case," I say, leaning against the sink.
- "I’m sure she knows more about this than I do. Am I wrong? You could have talked to me, you know. I wouldn’t judge you for being close to an instructor!"
- "Ale... It’s not like that. She’s just helping me get better, that’s all."
- "Should I go look for her?"
- "No, I’m fine."
- "You’ll talk to her about it tomorrow, then."
I groan but nod to appease her. I don’t plan to do it, but at least she’ll leave me alone. We leave the bathroom and return to our respective beds. Alexia quickly falls back asleep. As for me, I try not to think about my nightmare, which keeps replaying in my mind. I just had my first panic attack, and I wasn’t even awake. It’s the first time it’s happened to me. I hope it’s the last because I really don’t want to involve Lucy in this. She’s already taken enough care of me during the day, and I don’t want to disturb her during her sleep. I eventually manage to drift back to sleep a few minutes later.
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samualjennings ¡ 2 months ago
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Parting Company
Chapter 1
The Stage is now set, and our time is near! While none can deny that the scene has been dour, This hallowed ground shall once again be full of cheer! We mustn’t tarry at this, our fateful hour. Though we be mere artists, and our stage somewhat small… Nonetheless we must give it our all!
Oh, what dreams had befallen broken hearts, Who almost didn’t dare, But could not forsake their rightful part: A duty they’re compelled to bear. It’s true, I knew not well the author of this command, But who needs a commander to make a stand?!
I fight for honor, to pay back my due, That without my debtors’ knowledge I did accrue. Let my bow be my sword! Let it ring in every ear: It matters not who’d discount it; Fair Lackadaisy’s still…..!
“Are you gonna keep yappin’ up there, or are we gonna get this show on the road? We only got a couple hours to practice, you know.”
Rocky was suddenly pulled from his reverie, his vision coming back into focus on Zib’s annoyed expression.
“Right! Of course.” The agile cat jumped down from where he was perched atop the wine cabinet, violin in hand. “So then, maestro, what melodies do we have planned to impress our illustrious guests tonight?”
Zib struck a match on his shoe, before bringing it up to the cigarette in his mouth. He took one deep puff of calming smoke before turning his attention to the young lad’s question. “Haven’t quite decided. Mitzi’s bringing in some executive types, and if I know anything about your average, everyday fat cat, it’s that they can’t stand anything that wouldn’t put a kitten to sleep.” Zib sported an annoyed expression, accentuating his speech by various arm gestures, the smoke from his cigarette forming erratic patterns on its way up to the cave ceiling.
“Of course,” Zib continued, “it isn’t exactly your average, everyday fat cat who comes to get wasted at a speakeasy in the first place, is it?”
Rocky listened intently to the band leader, wanting to help him resolve this minor conundrum. Realistically, though, there was only so much help he could offer. “Alas, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had the privilege of meeting many average, everyday fat cats,” Rocky remarked with a hint of irony.
The older cat took another long drag of tobacco, and it was like the wheels turning in his head suddenly clicked into place. “That’s it. I’ve made my decision.” Zib extinguished his cigarette on a nearby ashtray. “These executives are coming to a speakeasy? Well, by God, they’re gonna get the speakeasy experience! We’re gonna swing this place so hard, their fragile hearts skip a beat!”
Rocky beamed with excitement, his smile extending to the ends of his face. “And what a beat there will be!” The exuberant violinist grabbed Zib’s hand and rushed him to the stage, where the rest of the band was waiting for them. “Make haste, maestro! At the ready, my dear cohorts! We have a show tonight, and everyone has a role to play!”
Not waiting for any official signal to start, the dramatic violinist began to play the complicated string part of a swing piece he had written himself. Zib was slightly stunned by the man’s sudden assertiveness, but it did not affect him for long. The band leader simply shrugged, picking up his sax and following Rocky’s lead. The rest of the band then filled in with their parts.
Tonight could be the night: the night when Lackadaisy claws its way up from the dumps it had been relegated to, and retakes its rightful place at the head of underground Saint Louis society! Alternatively, it could merely draw it down further into the depths. Rocky was determined to make sure of the former. He owed his soul to the band, to Mitzi, to this magical place, and he trusted tonight that magic would be made known for all to see!
And thus, I begin my new Lackadaisy fanfiction!
I won't spoil too much (and I don't have everything planned out), but I will say that this is gonna be a Hellerby fanfic!
I wont adhere to any particular update schedule, but I'll write when inspiration hits and post here as I finish chapters!
Hope you like it! <3
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missamyrisa2 ¡ 1 year ago
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can you write some more clit tickles please? I loved some of your teases where you used fluffy brushes and feathers but I can’t find some of them anymore!!
What if I just tickled your girl button until you can't think straight and you're nothing but a blubbering melted wanting needing gasping gigglegasmed mess, still begging for more ~ how about that? Oooh I think I have a giggle glutton on my hands ~ are you a giggly girly giggle glutton? I know what youuu neeed ~ I know what youuu wahahhannt! Awww I know, I know it's so hard to ask for it ~ you just want all that loving attention on your adorable pearl ~ you want to be teasy spoiled and snuggled by my tickles and made to feel sooo good don't youuu~
Now make with the pants ~ that's right, give them to meee~
Oh no, keep your panties on. We're gonna get you allll desperate and wanting first ~
Funny thing, the lightest little scratch with my nail right along your royal parts is all it takes to start this fire ~ scritchy scritchy up your cute panties, tracing the lips riiight to where your button sits ~ yes, the little royal cradle mmmhmm. And ooh yes, you can try to fight it, try to ignore it. I know these sensations are getting in, you feel that soft material rubbing on your girly bits, just ever so lightly working away ~ I know you already preheated that oven when I took your pants, didn't you? Such a naughty thing ~ My nail can just glide right here, up and down, and I know your cute little button will come out to play ~ Tickle, tickle ~
Aww, it's so bad isn't it? All that touchy tickly attention on your pearl? Yesss I'm just going to touch and tickle and tease and taunt your royal button until you're nothing but a giggly pile ~ and I think it's time for you to make with the panties now ~ mmmhm. Take them offf ~ let's let the breeeeze just settle on your hot little nubbin shall we? Oh? I guess that's not the breeze, just my little puffs of air muuuuah my little air kissies for your adorable clitty ~
Are you ready? I have my feather ~ here she comes, all up your thigh and fluttering in between there and your royal spot ~ Ooh, such a stiff quill ~ I picked her specially for you today ~ and you'll see whyyy ~ let's trace those lips first though ~ yahh, your royal lipssyyy ~ ahh, look at you quiver ~ I'll bet you want to be naughty huh? You want to touch your girly parts for me don't you? Don't you dareee ~ but I know you won't ~ you want your Amy tickles sooo badly you'll do anything I ask huh?
Oh yes, my feather is already up to your button. Tiny tiny fluttery tickles on that adorably swelling pearl ~ let's see how throbby we can get you ~ coochie coooo ~ you can shake your thighs and buck your hips alll you like. It's not gonna stop ~ my feather tip can just caress and kiss and glide on your button and you'll take all my tickles won't you? All these tickles? Right on your girly royal button? There we gooo ~ and we'll take the feather riiight to the underside of your clitty and now we piiiiivot ~ and I can hold this feather riiight here and keep you right where I want you, so my little supple detail brush can take over ~
Mmhmmm. Let it all out. Does it just tickle so bad? My feather lightly trembling under your clitty while my soft soft brush paints your captured button with dancing little twirls~ brushy brushy on your clitty? Moan it out darling, get all those giggles, all those fun sounds out ~ I'm going to take them alll ~ and now we swiiitch and the brush can rest under your clitty daring you to let it down while the feather strokes and strokes and strokes ~ aren't tickle tools so much fun?~
Ahh, still so needy huh? I think you need the brushy snuggle ~ I know what you need ~ this is a brush tickle for wanting girly girls ~ my two glittery handled blush brushes are gonna snuggle that clitty until you fall apart for me now ~ Yes, one blush brush on this side and oooh yeah, another blush brush on the other side and we sliiiip together ~ and mmhmm twist and fluff and brush and stroke ~ all over that tickly tickly button ~ no no you can't escape this precious ~ you want your tiiickles and here they areee~
And guess what? When you gigglecum for me, when you give me all those girly giggledrops ~ ~ we're doing it all over again~! Yeahh let's see if we can get you there even faster the next time around ~<3
By the way, if you are looking for a specific tease you can also visit my dA page. I post most of my teases there too and it's easier to browse through or search than on tumblr. https://www.deviantart.com/missamyrisa
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ruanais ¡ 1 year ago
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-> ☆—I LOVE YOU-! (please confess to me first)
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☆—RECIPE : who heard of the Archon of Fontaine being lovestruck? How absurd! Unfortunately, this is the case! So she must make you, her dear friend fall for her first and be the one to confess!
☆—FROSTING: gn reader, furina and reader being flustered, baker! Reader, tons and loads of fluffy fluff (I’m spoiling myself ٩( ᐛ )و struggling to not make this angst 。゚(゚´Д`゚)゚。) 2nd pov btw!! reader is implied having a crush on Furina, furina’s lovestruck <3
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“I HOPE these are to your liking, Furina!” You said, holding out a tray filled with slices of cake, macaroons, cream puffs, coffee, pudding, and a cup of tea.
“whoa! You made them all by yourself?” A shining Furina clasped her hands together. Getting up from her chair and walking to where you are, pulling your arm to a small table, purely reserved for visitors to sit and chat.
“Ahaha, I got mademoiselle Navia’s help, so she took part as well!” You laughed, setting the tray and then taking a sit. “There’s soo much today!” She exclaimed, obviously excited to dig in.
“Come on, hurry! Pour me some tea!” “Yes, yes.” You nodded your head and reached for the teapot, not noticing Furina staring at you adoringly, a slight tint of red on her face.
Oh! How can she, the magnificent God of Justice, the Archon of Fontaine ever confess? Of course she won’t! She’ll make you fall for her instead! And you’ll be the one to confess first! To save her pride, of course.
“Furina? Hello?” Your voice snapped her out of her daze, instantly sitting back up straight again and accepted the cup of tea you offered to her.
“daydreaming again huh?” You chuckled. “You’ll need to stop doing that all the time y’know?” As you hit her on the head lightly as you could but still earned a “ow!” From her.
As she munched on her cake, you poured yourself another cup of tea and cut a slice of cake.
it was quite the funny sight. The God of Justice blushing huffing while inhaling her cake and you eating your cake normally while beaming at Furina.
After you finished your cake, you rested your head on her hand and this time, you were the one to stare.
“hey! [name], are you that shameless? staring at my heavenly beauty arent you?”
Furina smirked as you smiled slightly before agreeing. And while in her stupefied state, you leaned forward and used a napkin to wipe off the frosting on her cheeks, not realising you two were very, very, very close.
Only after you finished wiping away the frosting, did you realise the close distance between you two.
“a-ah. Furina-“
“Mademoiselle Furina! I have urgent news…” a courier trailed off, seeing the intimacy between you two and totally getting the wrong idea.
“This is not what is looks like-“ you rushed to explain but unfortunately (fortunately) our dear Furina saw the chance to make you flustered, cut you off.
“-this is exactly! What it looks like!” She announced, a gleam in her eyes as you stared at her dumbfounded. “…huh?”
ah yes, but let’s not forget about the courier. Standing there confused, he got the message that his Archon wanted to send and hurriedly apologised and slammed the door shut. Leaving you bright red and flustered and Furina proud and her ego once more filled to the brim.
that is, before she realised how fucking cringe that was. ‘Ahhhhhh!! How could I ever say that?!?!?! What would [name] think of me now???” Butterflies irrupting in her stomach and a red face to match, safe to say. She felt like a utter fool.
after staying in that position like statues, (and idiots) the two of you returned back to your normal state (almost. Since the embarrassment was too much-)
ehehe..let’s skip to the next day shall we, dear reader?
you were on a walk, admiring the pretty flowers and trees that grew as yesterday’s past events kept replaying in your mind.
”ehh…it was probably nothing right? Furina wouldn’t say things like that. Yeah. It’s probably a joke..totally..mhm. Mhm. You’re totally overthinking this shit.” You muttered, thoughts racing in your mind until you heard some ladies gossip.
“Did you hear? Lady Furina is with MX. [name]!” “Huh? When did you hear this?” “Just a few hours ago! Apparently a courier walked in them having a moment.” “Ahhhh! How embarrassing!” “I’d say that the courier was more embarrassed…”
Okay. You did not. Expect this at all. Rumours…really do get around quickly huh?
You sighed, a tinest hint of a smile appeared on your lips. You…actually didn’t really mind the rumours. A warm feeling in your chest spread as you headed towards home ready to make pastries again.
you’ll tell her when you get the chance.
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Rua’s extra notes: yes, yes! So in the end, Furina got what she wanted!! Reader ends up confessing first :D
Reblogs are appreciated!! @ruanais2023 do not repost, translate without permission
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duhragonball ¡ 11 months ago
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It's my birthday today, and the local grocery store was thoughtful enough to stock the Dragon Ball Z Reese's Puffs, so I'm gonna try it out. Join me, won't you?
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I still can't believe this is real. I mean, Reese's Puffa is kind of surreal enough as it is. It sounds like some satirical brand meant to poke fun at sugary kids' cereals. The box says "Made with REAL REESE'S Peanut Butter", the same way a fruit-flavored beverage will claim to contain genuine fruit.
The bowl on the box art is a Reese's cup, so it basically depicts candy being served in more candy. I'm old enough to remember when they would photograph cereal as "part of a complete breakfast", and there'd be grapefruits and toast and maybe a hard boiled egg. Basically they were admitting that the cereal was so unhealthy that you needed to eat three or four other breakfasts to make up for it. I just liked the photos because they were so picturesque. Ah, to have unlimited free time to prepare a leisurely 4-course breakfast while reading the paper. I just assumed everyone else was having toast with their cereal except my family, but yeah, it never really made any sense.
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I haven't even gotten to Goku yet, but first I want to talk about his spoon. I don't think we see him holding a spoon very often. He's usually a chopsticks kind of guy, or he'll just use his bare hands or even dunk his head into the bowl. It kind of looks like a ladle when he holds it like that, which implies he cooked this bowl of candy soup all by himself, and he's showing it off like a proud chef. This spoon kicks ass, is what I'm trying to say.
But the real reason I bought this is because of that orange hillbilly who needs no introduction. I wasn't even looking for Reese's Puffs. It was the furthest thing from my mind. No, I was stocking up on the old-man cereal I require to survive, when I just saw him staring at me, with his friendly-yet-confident smile. Goku's not pressuring you to buy the cereal. He's sure you'll enjoy it, but it's okay if you want to take a pass. He'll just enjoy all this peanut butter chocolate goodness all by himself. Goku is truly the ideal spokesman. How can you say no to this lovable hunk?
I'm kind of out of touch when it comes to cereal marketing, but I'm pretty sure this sort of cross-promotion is a rarity. Like, they once put WWE wrestlers on Wheaties or something, but usually if the cereal companies want a cartoon on the box they'll just make their own character. Or if the cartoon people want to put their guy in the cereal aisle, they'll just commission a whole new cereal just for that brand. C-3PO had his own cereal for a while. It was pretty good!
What I'm saying is that it's kind of unusual to see a popular character like this on a cereal box. The only exception I can come up with is Fred Flintstone on Fruity and Cocoa Pebbles, but I always assumed that those were specifically "Flintstones Cereal".
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Other than that, yeah, I can't think of any other examples of cartoon characters appearing on unaffiliated cereal boxes like this. Well, I drew my DBZ OC on a box of All-Bran today, but I don't think that counts.
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"MY FIBER IS MAXIMUM, KAKAROT!"
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I wondered what was up with the picture of Piccolo on the back of the box, and it turns out that he's one of seven different characters you can find on the back of the box. Collect them all! Aw man, that Cell one looks fucking sick! I don't know how they distributed these. Maybe they roll them out in waves and Piccolo's came first. Or maybe it's random and I might have found a Cell if I'd checked more boxes at the store. Well, Piccolo's pretty good. I guess.
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All right, I just poured myself a bowl and Goku's cereal is gonna have to set course for Planet Oat. The dairy industry may not applaud my shopping choices, but I like oat milk because it doesn't spoil as quickly as cow milk, and it's got a nice oat-y flavor that compliments the cardboard taste of All-Bran.
I did not put Dawn liquid soap in my cereal. This time.
So what's the verdict here? Well, the first few bites were pretty tasty, and then I realized I was getting kind of sick of this as I made my way to the bottom of the bowl. The peanut butter flavor overwhelms everything. It has a very strong odor, so if you like Reese's peanut butter cups you can just sit this out in your room and savor the aroma. I barely registered any chocolate flavor at all. I mean, I believe they put it there, but the peanut butter is the whole story to this.
It's basically Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs from Calvin and Hobbes, only this is a special Peanut Butter variant they made. I never really appreciated the jokes about sugary cereals before. I grew up on Frosted Flakes and the like, but there were a certain class of cereals that my mom would just refuse to buy. My grandparents would have them, but I never really understood the difference between Frosted Flakes and Honey Smacks. As I got older, I ate less cereal in general, but that was mostly because I fell out of the habit of eating breakfast altogether.
But now I'm 47, and the only cereal I eat these days is bran topped with diced peaches and a couple of packets of artificial sweetener, so Reese's Puffs is way, way too sugary for my palate. It's not bad, but a little goes a long way for me.
When I was a kid, old people were always griping about all the stuff they couldn't eat anymore. I remember Isaac Asimov writing mournfully about how he couldn't have an Oreo cookie, which bummed me out because that was my favorite cookie back then, and it seemed that the fate of all humanity was to be denied the simple pleasure of enjoying them.
Now, I realize that a lot of the stuff that you liked as a kid just doesn't age up with you. Your tastes change, and you gain appreciations for new things that you wouldn't have appreciated before. That's not a bad thing. It's life. Things change, and you change along with them.
Well, you and I do, anyway. Not Goku, whose Saiyan biology keeps him looking exactly the same for sixty years so he can eat all the sweetened corn puffs he wants. But I don't envy him, is what I'm trying to say. I'm watching a wrestling show on PPV tonight, my mom took me to Cracker Barrel for lunch today, and I drew on a cereal box. I can't complain.
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