#((trying to keep each one around 2k words just to keep the pace))

[venmondiese]

A KING’S FAREWELL

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: As King Aegon II prepares to fight at Rook Rest, you accompany him before he departs.

✧Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Female Reader.

✧word count: 2k

✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v, fluff and angst, reader is aegon's mistress, slight foreshadowing to aegon's fate, aegon depressed for jaehaerys.

✧NOTE: i saved these from drafts, this was supposed to come out after episode 4, so all the events are from ep 4.

AEMOND'S PARALLEL ONE SHOT: A prince's farewell

“Fuck” he grunts, as his hips pound into yours, again and again. Aegon was a greedy man, and you were his favourite thing ever. 

Perhaps it was your gentleness to him that nobody else cared to show to him, or maybe it was your beauty. Not even he could know why you had him wrapped around your finger.

He knew one thing; he loved your cunt. 

As the carriage goes on and on, the King just pounds into your pussy, fucking you hard as your little wanton moans fill the carriage. He is King, and he will do whatever he wants, even if that means fucking his mistress whenever, wherever and however he wants.

Right now, it was you accommodated on the seats of the carriage, trying to hold onto the walls, the pillows, anything, as his cock entered again and again.

“Fuck, Aegon-” your little whine turns him on so badly, he grits his teeth as he practically hisses, feeling your cunt clenching around him so hard, it was driving him insane. 

Aegon was a hungry man, and he loved the pleasures of the flesh. There was probably nothing you haven’t done with him, and it pleased him very much. He loved you for it, and you loved him as well.

“I want to hear you moaning my name while I fuck this sweet dripping cunt” he mutters, picking up the speed as the lewd words fall from his lips naturally.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoing on the carriage, his hips rut more and more animalistic against yours. His hand is curled against your hip, applying the right amount of pleasure to keep you still, fucking you as you take his cock. 

“Aegon… Oh, gods…” Your moans are delight for his ears, as he groans and moans. He has never been one to be silent when fucking; he never held any sound for himself, more so when he knew you like hearing him as he liked hearing you. 

He was obsessed with every part from you. Your body, the curves of your ass, the way they sway invitingly for him, your breasts, your cunt… But, also, your mind. Aegon has never truly loved someone’s mind, and it was an odd yet comforting new feeling. 

“Fuck, you feel divine” Aegon says, biting his lower lip, as he increases his pace as he pounds into you. 

“My King, we have arrived-”

“Not now” He grunts as the servant tries to open the door of the carriage. 

You can hear the little sounds of the carriage moving, creaking at the weight and movements, Aegon’s hand roaming on your flesh as his shaft is deep inside you, and by the way you moan, your mouth wide open as your eyes are closed shut, the little drool falling from your lips… Aegon knows you are about to cum, feeling your tight cunt clenching around him, making him follow your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” your desperate noises are a delight for his ears, only serving to fuel his orgasm. 

“Yes, just like that” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he cums as well, groaning in delight as he comes inside you. He holds you still; as his hips slowly try to move deeper and deeper inside you, as his cum fill your womb.

You both were used to trying to make each other presentable, as he tries to comb and flatten your hair aftermath, and you pulled his breeches up for him, making sure his belt is not open and such. It was lovely, you realise, and it was something so familiar for both. 

It is your duty to entertain him as he is being equipped with the armour. The very same that the conqueror used at his time, and you smile fondly at him, trying to let his mind wander and not making him drown himself on wine before riding Sunfyre.

“Come” Aegon says as the Dragon keepers take Sunfyre out, pulling you closer to the dragon, and you chuckle a bit. Sunfyre wasn’t massive as you thought, but he was beautiful. 

The dim lights that entered the pit made his scales shine, as he was quick to come closer to Aegon and try to boop him with his nose and snuggle his head into his chest.

Aegon laughed, as he lets go of your hand to caress Sunfyre a bit more. It’s genuine. He’s happy, meeting his dragon, as Sunfyre plays some playful antics for his rider. You think it’s rather cute.

“He doesn’t bite” Aegon say, extending his hand and you slowly take it. You don’t doubt that he can, but you are sure he won’t.

“I’m pretty sure he can”

“He won’t bite you” He corrects himself as he rolls his eye, but you giggle. 

His scales are unsurprisingly warmer than you thought, as Aegon is still hugging him softly, smiling as he sees you caress his nose softly. Sunfyre seems to like your attention. A beautiful dragon -the most beautiful- was used to attention, you thought, but he craved yours, apart from Aegon’s. You smiled as you look at Aegon so comfortably hugging Sunfyre.

“He reminds me of you” you say softly “Craving my attention” your hand moves away but Sunfyre is quick to follow your touch, asking for more. “A needy thing”

Aegon smirks, looking at Sunfyre begging for more. “Always. When it comes to you. Sunfyre can feel it as well”

It was a soothing fact. Of course, being the King’s favourite had its privileges. Great dresses and position at court, for your kin as well. Your father knew well what he did, sending you to be one of Helaena’s ladies in waiting, as you later realized his motives. Yet still, Queen Helaena was so beloved, adored by everyone that it made you look bad. For stealing her husband from her. You didn’t hate her one bit, how could you? She was beloved to you as well, and she never had problems with you around. She was kind, and as mysterious as she was to everyone. You always felt bad until she reassured you the contrary, that she didn’t mind and she held no other love than sibling love to Aegon.

You smiled at Aegon. 

“Convenient” it were your words that had him smirk faintly, as he didn’t seem quite ready yet. 

You knew him well, to see the expression of his face, all his doubts, fears and expectations. He craves to be good. And to your eyes, he was more than perfect. But to your pity, that view didn’t extend to many people. 

As he gets ready, you take the helmet from the squire’s hands, and follow him from behind as he walks over to Sunfyre, who sings softly in the way that Dragons can. It’s melodic and beautiful, you soon realize. Aegon sings too, when he was drunk, or when he was in a good mood. When he was with you and….

Well, when he was with his kids. Now, you heard him sing with his only kid. You remember it, as Helaena was inconsolable; you played with Jaehaera and helped her to be the innocent little girl she was. Aegon, after finishing the business with both the golden cape and the Rat catchers, came to see her. So unlike him, yet he just sat Jaehaera on his lap and took Balerion on his fingers and played with her, singing some songs as they played without any words. 

You were a stranger to his family. You knew it. Yet you settled in, strangely. A friend to the mother, a weird aunt to the kids and a lover to the father. It isn’t like you don’t enjoy it. 

“You look adorable in that armour, though” you say smiling, taking a step back to watch him. He was extremely cute like that. The conqueror should have been taller, you imagine him as tall as Aegon’s grandsire. And Aegon wasn’t so tall, but you adored that

“I am supposed to be fearsome, not adorable” he says, moving to grab his cup of wine again.

You shrug, taking the cup from his hands and gulping the wine yourself. 

“Well, between you and Sunfyre, you’d make a beautiful pair. Fearsome… can be arranged for other occasion”

Aegon scoffs, taking the helmet with the conqueror’s crown on it, and he hesitates before pulling it on. 

“Wait, don’t be a brute” you say taking it from his hands. You were the only one to talk to the King like that, bossing him around as if nothing and he’ll follow your every whim as Kings follow the Gods.

You make him lean his head a bit as you accommodate his short and platinum hair, helping him to put it on the helmet on his head as you can hear Sunfyre sing on the back, waiting for Aegon. 

“I have a perfect view of your tits right now” he says, you can practically hear the smirk on his face, his head on the perfect angle to see your tits pressed tightly on your dress.

“I believe you do”

Once the helmet was on, you watched him with an endearing smile. It was so unlike him, to wear armour when he wasn’t a skilled fighter as Aemond was. But as the King, he repeated again and again that a Ruler should be fighting by his men's side, not cowering on a castle and waiting for the job to be done. 

“Be careful” you say to him, almost afraid. Aegon knows of the womanly worries, a Helaena had asked him the same: to be safe. 

“I’ll be. Sunfyre is there to protect me.” He says, trying to be nonchalant. 

“I know he’ll protect you, and you’ll protect him” 

Aegon nods, a bit lost in thought. “I want for them to trust me. I will fight by their side, and fight for my claim. I will learn how to be a proper ruler”

You nod, your hand searching the skin that his armour let out. You soothe him, and he allows himself to be vulnerable for you. “You’ll be."

"No one believes I do. My mother, my council, my grandsire... even Aemond..." It seems that the betraying of his brother is what hurts him the most. Even if Aemond was his political headache as of late, he was still his brother.

"You have me by your side. You have Helaena and Jaehaera-”

“Protect them” he interrupts you. “If anything, shall ever- If they come back…”

You understand his worry. Blood and Cheese. Even if both killers were dead, he was talking about the Blacks.

“I’ll do” you promise. “I’ll be with Jaehaera. And I’ll sing her the songs that you sang to her, so she doesn’t feel lonely”

“She has lost her twin. She will be forever lonely” he says, a bit gloomily.

You remain quiet for some moments. Aegon was different since that night, and you saw it on him every day. You held him as he cried, you comforted Helaena and Jaehaera. But Aegon just drank himself numb to forget the pain of his little son murdered.

“She has you” you remind him. “And I swear to you, by the old gods and the new, that I won’t let anything happen to Jaehaera. Anything. I promise”

That seems to calm him. “And I promise to comeback” he says walking closer to Sunfyre’s mount. “Even if it is with a few ugly scratches”

You roll your eyes amused, and look at his face. “You’ll be handsome even with some scratches.” you insist, as if the idea disgusts him, yet he is willing to get some scars to prove himself. “And I’ll take your hand as the Maester cures them. And I’ll kiss the little marks to make sure they heal”

Aegon smiles, looking at you as he leans to kiss your cheek. A tender gesture from him; Aegon wasn’t afraid to show displays of affection, at least not with you. You knew that Helaena wasn’t fond of them, but with you and his kids, he’ll make sure you are pampered in love. 

“Thanks for the words. They are well appreciated, and your love is all I needed. And this proper farewell too.” 

You smile, nodding as he climbs Sunfyre. It is not the first time you have seen the dragon; he once took you on flights, and the other time you had helped him to get Jaehaerys and Jaehaera on the mount, making sure they won’t fall, as they squirmed excitedly. 

“Pray for our win.” He says loudly, looking down at your figure “For the throne shall be ours, and for good” 

thank you for reading!! reblogs, likes and comments are not necessary but well appreciated♡

[marauder-misprint]

Flirting

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

2k words

cw: fluff

Regulus is waiting for you when you get back. You don’t really want to discuss his last question. You try to sneak past him to the girls’ dormitories.

“I need an answer,” he calls out, making his stop in your tracks. 

You weren’t in trouble. You couldn’t be in trouble. But that didn’t make you feel any less in trouble. The feeling of dread was already settled in your stomach as you made your way to the couch, retaking your place from earlier in the evening.

“Yes?” you ask, playing dumb. 

“Do you. fancy. Sirius?” he asks, speaking in a rhythm.

“I… I don’t think so?” Your face twists in your evident confusion of how you did feel for his brother.

“You don’t think so?” His disbelief is laced in his voice. “How do you not know?”

You blush and look away from Regulus. You knew you were bound to discuss this at some point with Sirius acting… however he was acting. 

“I mean, is he attractive? Yes, but I’d say the same thing about you and we’re just friends. He’s a semi-decent conversation and occasionally funny. But I don’t think it goes anywhere beyond that.”

“And those times you came back reeking of him? And disappearing with him at Slughorn’s party?”

You look back at Regulus so he can see you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve explained all of that to you. But what I want to know is why have you never mentioned his dog?”

“He has a dog? Since when?”

You can tell Regulus’ surprise is genuine. 

“Huh. I guess some time between when he ran away and today. Potter told me it was Sirius’ dog that got loose in their common room.” You shake your head. “I’m still fuzzy on why he has his dog here.”

Regulus leans back into the couch more. “Who knows anything about him and what he does? Bastard’s a mystery.”

“Definitely a confusing bloke…”

You move to stand up when Regulus reaches out to grab your arm.

“You think I’m attractive?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

You laugh. “Oh, in your dreams, Black.”

With a smile on your face, you go to bed. Padfoot is on your mind as you drift to sleep. It was surprisingly refreshing to have seen a dog, especially with only being surrounded by cats for so long. 

---

You regret telling Regulus that you thought he was pretty. You had only said it to get him off your back about Sirius. Now, he was using it to tease you. And the worst part was not knowing if he was serious in some of his comments, particularly the more flirtatious ones. You really hope you hadn’t ruined a friendship with a simple comment that was supposed to be about his brother. 

You are walking back to the castle after a quidditch game between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff when you realize that Regulus hadn’t made a comment about it. You had been with him since breakfast, standing at his side all of the match as he watched intently and made mental notes to bring up to the Slytherin captain later. Then he threw a casual arm around your shoulder, forcing you to match your pace more exactly to his.

“You know, I hear muggles give their girls their extra jerseys to wear on game days. I could, ah, give you mine next week.”

You physically exaggerate your eye roll.

“Anndd there it is!” you sigh. “No, Black. You’re pretty, but no.”

Regulus chuckles and squeezes your shoulder.

“But I’m pretty!”

“And an increasing pain in my ass,” you retort, making his chuckle turn into a fuller laugh. 

“Could be your pain.”

“Eh. I’ll pass.”

A few Slytherins around you ooh’d. Both you and Regulus roll your eyes while looking at each other with small smiles. Just as you didn’t know how serious Regulus was being, most of the Slytherins had no clue why Regulus was suddenly flirting with you semi-ardently. They knew he took you to Slughorn’s party, but that was about it. He was a private person. So for all they knew, you two had been dating for a while and keeping everything on the down low. As his teasingly flirtatious remarks occurred in more public places, you gained more attention for it.

And now Sirius had overheard. The Marauders weren’t too far behind you and Regulus as they left the pitch after the match. Regulus wasn’t necessarily quiet with his comment, nor were you with your response. He didn’t miss how comfortable you looked under his arm nor how at ease you were around him. Sirius narrows his eyes with a frown. He didn’t bother hiding that he was watching you; the boys knew he would be. Ever since you bonded with Padfoot, his obsession with you increased tenfold. 

“Did you all hear what she said?” Sirius asks as they reach their usual spot at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

“When?” James responds lazily, as if he’s already bored with the conversation before it’s started. “I’d ask who but you know.”

“As we were walking back, Prongs. She was talking to Regulus.”

“Can’t say I recall.”

“Well! Sounded like Regulus was flirting and she was turning him down. But! Oh, but, but, but! She called him pretty. If she thinks Regulus is pretty, that means I got to be pretty too, right?” Sirius rants, excitement filling his voice. “We got that singling resemblance!”

“Your family is literally inbred. Yes, you two look alike,” Peter says.

“Careful, Wormtail,” Sirius glares at him. “Watch what you say.”

“Just speaking the truth.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and turns back to James to continue his theories about turning you into a Sirius person. 

---

His plan ended up similar to being something that Peter had suggested a while ago: talk to her, ask her out. Heavy flirting is what Sirius was going for. His usual level of charm needed to be cranked up. Remus was the only one who wasn’t a huge fan of this and he let Sirius know. He suggested that Sirius just talk to her and try to spend time with her without being too imposing. Sirius, however, believed that wouldn’t get him the results he needed so he went with his gut. 

He follows you out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the last class of the day. James, Remus and Peter were already heading back to Gryffindor Tower. Sirius is glad that you’re only with Dorcas; if you had been with any of your other friends, he might have backed down, postponed his plan until you were alone.

“Dorcas, mind if I steal her for a moment?” he asks as he catches up with you.

Dorcas gives you a curious look. She doesn’t respond right away as the two of you have a nonverbal conversation. You were trying to get it across to her that you did not want to be left alone with Sirius right now, unsure if you could keep your temper. But when a wicked grin spread on her face, you knew you were doomed.

“If you tell me the password. I’ll go hang with Marls.”

You groan as Sirius smiles and tells her the new password. You cross your arms and turn toward Sirius once she is gone.

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to confirm that you know how beautiful you are.”

You let out a noise of surprise that was similar to a snort. This boy was certainly full of surprises. 

“Um, thanks?” There was a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite describe.

“And, that Protego totalum you cast in class? Perfect.”

“Yeah? And my potion from class this morning? Impeccable, I’m guessing.”

Sirius isn’t a fan of how quickly you caught onto his flattery. Usually his charm got him a bit further. 

“Actually, yes,” he says, trying to save the little progress he thought he was making. “I’ve told you that you’re brilliant before, haven’t I?”

You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t remember.”

He hums.

“So what did you want? Or did you send Cas away so you could compliment-bomb me?”

“You, me, Hogsmeade this weekend. Butterbeers on me.”

You bark a laugh and try to turn it into a cough, but it’s too late. He heard the mirth of the noise.

“What?” he asks, sounding a bit hurt by your immediate reaction.

“Black, don’t be ridiculous. We both know it’d be a waste of our time.”

“Would it, though? I’ve enjoyed myself around you.”

You run a hand through your hair. You take a moment to figure out how to respond to him. It wasn’t Regulus. You couldn’t turn him down with a simple laugh and continue on. But there also wasn’t really a friendship to preserve under the refusal. Then you remember Padfoot.

“I won’t go on a date with someone who abandons their dog in their house’s common room.”

“What?”

You scoff. “Padfoot? Did Potter not tell you?”

Sirius shook his head, trying to not let you see that he was playing dumb. Of course he knew. He is Padfoot but you didn’t know that. Couldn’t know that and wouldn’t know that, not unless things took a dramatic turn for the better. 

“Your dog, the one you let run rampant in Gryffindor Tower. Dorcas was sent to get me because apparently he wasn’t listening to anyone. The common room was a mess when I got there. First years were terrified. I got him to settle and then waited for you to come back. I waited for probably over an hour. Where the hell were you that you couldn’t watch your dog?” You pause ever so briefly before continuing without his answer. He had opened his mouth to respond, but you spoke over whatever excuse he had. 

“You know, actually, I don’t care. It’s less of an issue where you were. The real issue is why is Padfoot at Hogwarts? Dogs aren’t allowed here! You have lessons! Homework! You can’t possibly care for a dog right now! Why isn’t he at the Potters? Or boarding? Or somewhere, I don’t know… Your cousin from Slughorn’s party? Could she watch him?”

Sirius has the decency to look a little remorseful. He’s looking at the ground like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“Well?” you ask impatiently. 

“He’s usually at the Potters’ but you like dogs so-” Sirius starts to say.

Your incredulous laugh cut him off.

“Do not make this about me somehow,” you chastise him. 

“But it was for you.”

“If it was for me, from you, why weren’t you there?” 

“I… I had to be somewhere else.”

You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “Un-fucking-believable…”

“It’s true!” he practically begs, grabbing hold of the sides of your arms to keep you from turning away from him. “You have to believe me that if I could’ve been around to see your face when you saw a dog at Hogwarts, I would have been.”

“Whatever, Sirius.”

“Will you consider Hogsmeade? Please? Doesn’t have to be this weekend,” he asks, voice pleading. He’s also giving you puppy dog eyes, which he does with an uncanny likeness. 

“Why would I do that?”

Sirius stares at you.

“Because I brought a dog to Hogwarts for you.”

“Because I’m a dog person?”

He lets out a nervous laugh. He goes to scratch the back of his neck as he shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Yeah. And you liked Padfoot, so obviously I have a good taste in dogs.”

“I like all dogs. Except for the one in front of me right now.”

“All I’m asking for is one real date. No drunken shenanigans. No smoking unless you want to. Just The Three Broomsticks and anything you want from Honeydukes.”

You cock your head. “Honeydukes? Upping the ante, I see.”

He laughs more confidently now. “Remus could kill me if I took a trip to Hogsmeade without him and didn’t return with some kind of chocolate.”

“How about this…” you say, biting your upper lip, “if you can convince Regulus that us going on a date is a good idea, I’ll go. If you can’t, I don’t have to.”

Sirius’ face lights up more than you thought it would. You thought the idea was impossible so why did he suddenly look so hopeful.

“You’re on, sweetheart,” he says. “Be ready for Hogsmeade this weekend.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468

[goldfades]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 ─ LH⁴³

౨ৎ ─ summary | requested ! can u write rough car smut with luke hughes please 🫶🏻🫶🏻 -> luke storms out of your friend's party because of a "good-natured" comment, causing you two to get into an argument in his car but quickly make up.

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | SMUT with teensy bit of plot!!!!!!! slight angst, car sex (obvs), jealous!luke, rough!luke (not too much tho), unprotected p in v, no prep, dumbification (pls idk if this is the right word for it) but like VERY LITTLE, praise, luke being PUSSY DRUNK, choking (but not really), and pretty sure nothing else.

─ taglist | @dancerbailey @maryleclerc @valluvsu @bowen-power @bunting58 @daisysnhl @daisysthings @hearts-4-luke @iminlovewithtz11 @jackhughesily @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvelyzoe @ru-kru

─ ev's notes | this is quickly turning into a luke hughes fan-page (even tho i'm supposed to be in MY QUINN HUGHES ERAAAAA) request some stuff!!! my requests are open rn!!!!!!!

ALL IT TOOK WAS one backhanded comment and Luke was out of there.

He was practically dragging you at this point, his hands gripping yours as he walked out of the room. It didn't take a whole lot to realize he was angry ─ he was fuming. His jaw clenched, and his steps were sharp and quick, he needed to remove himself from the situation before he said or did something he might later regret.

You struggled to keep up with his fast pace, feeling the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. His grip on your hand was almost painful but you knew better than to protest or try to slow him down. When Luke was in this mood, it was best to let him cool off on his own terms.

You reached the car and he dropped your hand, opening the driver's door and getting inside. He didn't bother saying anything as he started the car as soon you got into it. You wanted to say something but you knew if you did, you will never hear the end of it.

You and Luke had gotten invited to one of your friend's get-together. Now this would be a normal occurrence if it weren't for the fact he strongly dislikes your friend. You knew why but it honestly didn't seem that big of a deal ─ your friend wasn't really a big fan of sports.

You knew the root of Luke's dislike for your friend stemmed from their differing interests. Luke, being a professional hockey player, lived and breathed the sport. It was his passion, his livelihood, and his identity in many ways. On the other hand, your friend couldn't care less about sports.

Now this all would not be a problem if your friend had a weird thing with teasing Luke. He really enjoyed getting a rise out of him but it wasn't like he targeted Luke, that was just how he was.

As the car hummed along the road, the tension inside it seemed to thicken with each passing mile. Luke's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack.

"Luke, we need to talk about this," you spoke up (despite your better judgement). You couldn't really find the words to put it lightly. He was being too sensitive, you wanted to say.

But of course, you couldn't. That was mean. You glanced back at the brunette, sympathy written all over your expression.

Luke shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with anger. "What's there to talk about?" he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Your friend was out of line, and I'm not going to stand around and be disrespected like that."

"He wasn't trying to disrespect you, Luke," you countered, your voice rising slightly. "He was just joking around, like he always does."

"Well, maybe his idea of a joke isn't as funny as he thinks," Luke retorted, his grip on the wheel tightening even further.

You shook your head, feeling your temper flare. "You're being too sensitive," you shot back, unable to hold back your frustration any longer. "He's my friend, Luke. I'm not going to just cut him out of my life because you can't take a joke."

You knew you'd stepped over the edge, crossed a boundary you shouldn't have. Regret seeped into your expression as Luke's anger seemed to triple, if that was even possible. Your mouth hung open, trying to say something, anything but nothing came out.

Luke's expression darkened at your words, his jaw tightening even further as he processed your response. The silence in the car grew heavy, suffocating, as both of you grappled with the weight of your words.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Luke spoke, his voice low and laced with barely-contained fury. "So that's how it is, huh?" he muttered, his gaze burning into yours.

"Luke, I'm sorry... I just-" You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. "I just..."

But before you could finish your sentence, Luke's words cut through the air like a knife, his anger now laced with a bitter edge.

"He's a little bitch, why are you trying to defend him so badly?" Luke's gaze bore into you as he spoke. "I bet you he can't even skate correctly and he's over here talking about hockey like he knows anything about it."

As he continued to speak, his voice was filled with something more than just mere anger. You could practically feel the jealousy radiating off of him and finally, it made sense ─ he was jealous. Your heart almost did a flip, it was... kinda cute.

Despite the venom in his words, your lips began to curve into a small smile. Luke looked over and his anger seemed to turn into utter irritation.

"Why are you smiling?" His words came out harsh but you just shook your head.

You shook your head, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across your lips. "I'm not laughing at you," you assured him, though your tone was light. "It's just... you're cute when you're jealous."

"Jealous?" He repeated, angry coursing through his body. "Of him? Why? It's not like he stands a chance against me in anything. Jesus, Y/N. Jealous?"

"I didn't mean it like that," you said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in a gesture of reassurance. "I just meant... it's cute when you get all protective. Like you care about me."

Luke's expression softened slightly at your explanation, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. "Of course, I care about you," he said gruffly, his tone still tinged with irritation. "I hate that guy. So much, I don't think I've ever hated anyone more. And seeing him flirt with you-"

"What?" You interrupted. "Luke, he's not flirting with me."

Luke glared back at you, trying to suppress an annoyed groan. "Trust me, Y/N. I can fucking tell. You're just too friendly to get it. But you're my girl, I don't why he wants to one-up me. You're already mine."

"I am, I am yours." You repeated, your gaze softening slightly.

Luke looked back at you, his gaze filled with smugness and a maybe even desire. "Yeah," he replied breathlessly. "You fucking are." His voice was low and you felt his voice go right down south.

He pulled over the car and you felt your whole body burn up. He put the car in park and looked over at you, his gaze filled with desire. You knew you couldn't have him waiting so you just crossed over to him and straddled his lap.

Luke didn't waste any time ─ he grabbed your jaw and kissed you harshly. You let out an uncontrollable whimper at that, his touch almost bruising on your jaw. His lips drew lower, letting go of your jaw as he began kissing your neck.

You couldn't help but let out quiet whimpers, letting your head fall back.

"Mine," he mumbled against your neck with each kiss on your neck. You began grinding your hips against his and you felt his hard-on right on your clothed cunt, your whole body shaking with desire.

He stopped his actions and you let out a huff of disapproval. He gestured for you to move in the backseat and you did with no question, laying back as Luke got on top of you.

He slid your hips upward before taking ripping your leggings off. His touch was harsh but you didn't mind ─ Luke usually took his time with you and was much softer but you knew his mind was racing with jealousy. And you didn't wanna admit but you were kind of hoping for this outcome when you had first got into the car.

He pulled down his sweatpants and you could see his cock bulging out of his boxers. His head fell back in pleasure as he pulled himself out, the tip an angry red as pre-cum was leaking out of it. Luke let out a groan as he gave himself a few pumps before he slid your underwear to the side.

Usually, Luke was patient enough to stretch you out with his fingers but not tonight; he just needed to fuck you dumb, til your legs were shaking the only thing playing in your was him.

He leaned forward so he could pull you into a needy kiss before he slid his cock inside of you slowly. His kiss was sloppy as you let out a moan into it as he slowly bottomed you out. You felt the burn, Luke was pretty big and the lack of prep added some pain but you knew it would dissipate.

"Ah, fuck." Luke moaned into the kiss before he pulled away. He bottomed you out pretty quickly, you were so wet that he just slipped right in. "Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good."

You whimpered in response before Luke slid his hands up to your neck, holding you tightly before he began thrusting in and out. His other hand was planted right on your hips, his grip firm. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you arched your back in response, the previous mentioned pain quickly turning into pleasure.

"You're mine," he grunted as he quickened his pace. He pulled your legs all the way to rest on his broad shoulders, fucking you from a new angle.

He was hitting in all the right spots, you could barely see straight. All that was coming out of your mouth were moans and unintelligible strings of praises and curses.

"Feel so fucking good, Jesus." Luke felt himself slip, your pussy felt so good and knowing that you were only for him, that he was the only one who's ever been this deep inside of you, made his knees weak. "Ah, fuck baby."

He began fucking you into the backseat, harsher and rougher than before. You couldn't even think straight anymore, your cries louder and your legs shaking as he did. Luke felt like he was on cloud 9, you were squeezing him so good and you were so perfectly made for him, not to mention how fucking beautiful you looked; your eyes closed, your head back, your face sweaty and your mouth slightly open as you took him ─

God, he was so fucking close. He closed his eyes because he knew if he kept looking at you, he'd cum. Luke held you down by your neck as he brought down his fingers to rub on your clit harshly and before neither of you knew it, your orgasm hit you like a truck.

Your cunt tightened against him, he let out a loud groan as he head fell back. A few more deep, messy and harsh thrusts and he was spilling inside of you. He fell on top of your heaving chest, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

Your fingers found his curls and you began to run your hands through them. Sure, it'd make them all frizzy but you knew it made Luke relax. The whole car was fogged up, making your lips curve up into a lazy smile.

With a gentle sigh, you pressed a warm kiss to the crown of Luke's head, relishing in the quiet intimacy of the moment. "I love you, I'm sorry-"

"No." He interjected, finally sitting up so he could face you entirely. "I'm sorry for... being all being all possessive and jealous back there. It's not fair to you, especially when you've done nothing wrong."

You reached out to gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubbled jawline. "It's okay, Luke," you reassured him, your voice soft. "If I'm being honest, it was kind of hot."

"Yeah, I figured." He smirk as gestured to your legs as you rolled your eyes in amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling a warmth spread through you at the sight of his playful expression. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice tinged with a teasing tone. "I mean, it's nice to know you care so much."

Luke's smirk widened into a full-fledged grin, his eyes sparkling with desire. "If being jealous always ends in us fucking like that, then maybe I should do it more often." he quipped, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. You giggled as he did so, relaxing in his touch.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[aaizawashouta]

So This Is Love

pairing: naruto x fem!reader

word count: 2k

summary: he’s more than a war hero, your personal sunshine

warnings: none

Lazy fingers trail over warm skin. Early morning light pours into the bedroom, dancing with the sheer curtains that billow in the breeze. You forgot to shut the window last night, but summer was sneaking up early this year. A soft smile touches your lips as you trace over familiar scars. Naruto sleeps next to you, sheets pooled at his waist and snores slipping from his mouth. The sunlight warms his skin, making him glow. He looks ethereal, your very own god. Pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder his own lips twitch at the feeling.

Your eyes meet sleepy ones when he catches your hand. Lips parting when he brings it up to his mouth, placing light kisses to each of your fingertips. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fingers tingling. His smile is blinding as he stares at you. Blonde hair, a golden halo around his head and blue eyes you’d surely drown in if you stare too long.

There aren’t many days like these. Where you get him only to yourself. The war may be over, but his dreams are just on the horizon. Naruto turned out to be a very important man and you couldn’t be more proud. Smiling at him you tilt your chin up, eyes meeting his as you gently place your lips against his. You can’t help the head sigh that escapes you when his hand weaves into your hair.

“Good morning.”

“Mhm.”

Naruto laughs when you pull away from him. He loves how easy it is to get you all flustered. Some days treating it like a game, trying to beat his personal best. You roll your eyes, ignoring his grabby hands and make your way to the kitchen. It doesn’t take him long to follow after you.

It’s something about the way he watches you. His eyes devour you from where he sits at the dining table, elbow on the table, chin in hand. He grins at you, his whole aura almost as blinding as the sun peaking out from between the drapes as you bring him a cup of tea. He takes the cup from you, calloused fingers lingering on your own. Eyes trailing as the cup lifts to his lips, and down his throat. Licking your lips at the bob of his adams apple.

“Honey, you’re staring.”

Your eyes meet his. “So?”

A yelp escapes you when hands wrap around your thighs and lift you to the table. You glare at him when your ass collides with the mug, almost tipping it over. Naruto only smirks, leaning in to capture your lips with his. Your stomach clenches, the taste of him and your favorite tea almost drowning you. The feeling of his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your inner thighs, the only thing keeping you afloat. Tipping your head back when his lips leave yours, leaving a burning trail down your neck. The pace is slow, lazy, matching the tone of your morning. Naruto’s thumbs keep rubbing into your skin even as his hands rise higher, finding themselves underneath his shirt you had picked up from the floor earlier.

“You’ve got studying to do, Naru.”

He grumbles against your shoulder. Iruka makes sure to come by every so often while Naruto is on missions. That way you can help keep him updated on how he’s doing with his work. He has to do the work, if he wants to be hokage. He won’t let Kakashi keep the title forever.

“I don’t want to.”

You can’t help but snort at his pouting. “I know, but I can help, yeah?”

You keep your eyes trained on the sketchbook in your lap, attempting not to be conspicuous when you look up to study him every now and then. The idea makes you snort. As if your staring has ever bothered him. You stared so hard when you first met him that you hadn’t heard a thing he said to you for about three minutes. It was the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to you, but hey, he thought you were the cutest thing.

Once he figured out you truly weren’t an idiot. It all worked out.

When he looks up at you now and catches you lost in thought as you admire him, his lips tilt up into a teasing grin. You wink at him before looking back down at the book. You’ve drawn him a hundred times before. This one is probably your favorite. Him at home, content with you. Holding the piece back a bit, you study your favorite parts. The gentle way his lashes rest against his cheeks. The slope of his nose. He looks peaceful. Godlike.

“What are you drawing over there, honey?”

You don’t have to look up from the sketchbook to know that his smirk has turned more haughty than before, and when he leans forward a little, you lean back at the same time to keep your sketchbook out of his reach.

He knows you draw him. He’s seen a few of them. He’s seen almost all of your artwork. In fact, he has one of your drawings tattooed on him. He got it while on your honeymoon. You thought he was crazy but he thinks he was being romantic. Whatever. But this one, it feels different. More personal. It’s not him being vulnerable on the page, but you as well.

“Just the garden,” you lie, with a little shrug, looking back out the window for added effect, scrunching your eyes slightly as if to examine it in depth.

“The garden,” he repeats. He doesn’t believe you. Not like he has to. He knows without a doubt you’re lying. “That why you keep looking at me?”

“Maybe I just missed you, ever think of that?” You counter, but it comes out in a harsh whisper, like you're trying not to cry. Closing the sketchbook quickly, you nearly jam your finger in between the pages. His gaze burns over you, taking you in from your averted gaze, hands clenching your sketchbook, your rigged posture, back pressed so hard against the chair, as if purposely trying to keep a distance from him.

“Honey, I’m right here.”

You huff. As if you don’t already know this. As if you haven’t had your eyes on him since you crashed into him in the living room when he walked in last night, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He’d been gone for almost a month. It’s why you couldn’t sleep last night — because he’s home. He’s here and all you want is him close. You want him with you. You want him living inside you where he can’t ever escape; where the thought of losing him is only a nightmare. Your eyes have gone misty, something you can’t hide when you glance up at him when you feel a finger lazily drag up your arm. You raise your brows trying to feign innocence as you place the sketchbook on the other side of you. He could easily reach it if he wanted to, you’d have no chance at keeping it from him, but it seems that he can sense the anxiety radiating off of you. Naruto’s smirk falls into something softer, gentler. Something you’ve only seen a handful of times — something that he saves just for you.

“Dance with me.”

You hesitate for a small second. “What?”

His eyes brighten as he pulls himself up into a sitting position. He grabs your phone that’s sitting on the coffee table and raises the volume. Suddenly, it’s two years ago, the beginning of June and you’re standing in the middle of a crowd — all of your loved ones there to celebrate the two of you. The song tugs on your heartstrings more than it ever has before. Naruto’s eyes slightly crinkle with his smile.

“Dance with me.” he says softly as he extends his hand out for you to take.

Without much effort you're in his arms, swaying to the song that played during your first dance as a married couple. You can’t seem to stop the tears that fall from your eyes. You aren’t sad, but this feels like a lot. He’s got you wrapped up in him. One arm wrapped around your waist holding you to him, while the other is cradling your head, fingers weaved through your hair. Your head rests on his shoulder, hands tight around his waist, both of you lost in each other, in the magic of the radiant sun, the silence of the early afternoon.

“Do you regret marrying me?” Naruto whispers in your ear.

“No.”

“You’d choose this life again?”

“I’d choose you every time no matter what it meant. I can deal with this, Naru, as long as I get you back every time. Every time.”

His eyes rest heavy on you, and your pulse starts to race when the soft light in his eyes slightly darkens into something else. His gaze lingers on your lips long enough for you to tilt your chin up, bringing your mouth closer to his, and when his lips realign to that familiar smirk you know, like always, he’s more aware of the effect he has on you than he should be. Maybe you should be embarrassed by that, but it makes things easy. You never have to ask, he just knows. Like how you’re standing here with the electric hum of excited energy flooding your veins already, desperately waiting to feel his mouth on yours. He lowers his head slowly, eyeing you with a playful gleam telling you that he’s teasing you — that he knows his slow pace is driving you crazy. But it doesn’t last long, the moment you run your tongue along your bottom lip, his playful attitude breaks, and his lips collide with yours. You pull him closer as his hand slips down to grab at your thigh. Without much thought you jump, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you back to your bedroom.

With Naruto, kisses are more than just feeling his lips against yours. It’s his calloused fingers slowly brushing the inside of your thighs, in a slow teasing motion, that drives you crazy until you're grinding against him. Desperate for him to touch you, really touch you. It’s the taste of his spearmint tongue brushing against your own, sending white-hot jolts of pleasure straight down to your core. It’s the smell of him — intoxicating, mouthwatering, enough to make you weak at the knees. But more than anything, it’s the sound of him — of the deep exhales when your fingers dip into the band of his pajama pants to tease him, the throaty groan when you grind your hips down into his, the position of you resting over him on your bed one of power, one he gives only you. It’s the surprised laugh that echoes from him whenever you nibble on his bottom lip or pull away to catch your breath.

Your seconds away from doing that when he breaks away from the kiss, grinning up at you like he knows you weren’t breathing. He probably does. The man knows you like the back of his hand from the moment you met. Naruto only shakes his head, a soft laugh pouring out of him, his thumb running along your cheekbone. He’s looking up at you like you hung the stars and the moon. But that can’t be right, can it? Not when he’s magic, a myth. Something you can’t really phantom. A god in your bed, carved marble under your fingertips. He is the earth and you, it’s lone moon, never far and always following closely behind.

There’s more studying to be done. Another mission that’ll take him away for who knows how long. But in a world of peace, for now, you’re willing to share him. Willing to be placed to the side so he can conquer his dreams. Willing to do anything and everything to help him.

His finger taps your nose, causing you to scrunch it. He grins down at you before bumping his nose against yours. “You’re everything.” He says it so softly, as if mirroring your thoughts. Assuring you in a way that baffles you always. How does he know? But that’s the magic of him, you think.

This is love, on a Sunday morning.

[olsenmyolsen]

ok hear me out there is a severe lack of CarolKate fics, maybe Carol trying to prepare/teach Kate how to be a leader of the young avengers but they just end up incessantly teasing each other verbally until Carol gets fed up and puts a very bratty Kate in her place and shows her who’s boss

“oh yeah? make me” and “prove it” and “i bet *you* cant even do that” vibes

Thank you for reaching out! <3. I enjoyed writing this dynamic a lot! Also all of my requests so far have been smut... don't know what that says about you all or me.

Prove It (18+)

master list . maroon master list . dark master list

MCU AU (Kate Bishop X Carol Danvers)

Summary: Carol is training Kate to lead the Young Avengers, but the 23-year-old can't keep her mouth shut.

Word Count: 2K

Content: Sex, Fingering, Petnames Kink, Praise, Oral, Feelings, Pinning, etc

Carol watched as Kate rose up from the black mats in the training room yet again.

Kate was in dire need of some training, specifically hand-to-hand combat if she was going to be one of the leaders of the Young Avengers or whatever the hell Kamala was putting together.

Kamala Khan had talked to Carol about her own band of heroes for the last couple of months, but honestly, Carol put on a smile and tuned the hero from Jersey out most of the time.

"Okay, you got me that time, but that's because I was going easy," Carol smirked at Kate's words. "Oh really? What about the other twenty-nine times?" Kate put on a confident smile. "You wish it was twenty-nine times."

"No, it has been twenty-nine times. I've been keeping count." Kate's face fell. "Oh." Carol put her hands up ready to go again. "Really?" Kate asked, making Carol smile. "Yes. Now, come on, hit me."

"Oh, usually that comes after dinner. And with consent." Carol rolled her eyes as Kate laughed and put her hands up before her, pacing around Carol. The two of them had been going at it for at least an hour and a half, but Kate and her mouth had yet to stop.

Clint told Carol all about how great the archer was. But he warned her that she never stops talking. Like ever.

Carol was beginning to miss Goose and their quiet purrs.

Kate moved closer to Carol but made the mistake of moving her eyes to the point where she would strike—making it easy for Carol to lift her leg and collide with Kate's stomach. The younger woman stumbling back. "Jeez, I thought Clint said you took Karate or something?"

"He talked about me?" Kate ignored the rest of Carol's words. Carol sighed. "Yes, one of the world's greatest archers, but you still can't land a punch without someone hitting you first."

"Okay, ouch." Kate put her hands over her heart and faked being stabbed. Carol stopped moving and waited for Kate and her theatrics to be done.

It took another thirty seconds.

"Okay, kid, let's see if you can't resist telegraphing your moves." Kate made a face at the K word. "Ew, don't call me that." Carol and Kate began to circle one another. Carol looked slightly confused. "What kid? Doesn't Clint call you that?"

Kate lightly shrugged. "Yeah, but he's like a father figure, plus it sounds wrong coming from someone's mouth that isn't as old as him." Carol shook her head and laughed. "You know I'm technically over sixty."

Kate couldn't stop the words flying out of her mouth.

"Not with a body like that."

Carol stopped moving. Kate stopped moving. "Oh god. She's going to kill me." The Bishop girl whispered under her breath.

After a beat of silence, a glowing smirk grew on Carol's face. She had a new angle. "I see," Carol said, dragging her feet along the mat, slowly moving again. Kate stumbled before she also started moving. Afraid of what Carol would say and do.

"You're attracted to me."

Kate's mouth dropped. "No- I mean, yes, you're attractive, but no, I'm not- to you."

A blind man would be attracted to Carol Danvers.

Carol squinted. "You sure about that, honey?" Kate's eyes went wide as she gulped. Carol was having fun now. "Go back to calling me kid," Kate demanded, but Carol laughed. "Why are you afraid I'm bringing up some mommy issues?"

Kate exhaled. She needed to try and get the upper hand again. "And what if you are?" She replied. Carol shrugged after a second. "Then quit being a brat about it."

Kate's body grew warmer.

She licked her lips and opened her mouth. A little squeak came out before her words. "Well, maybe I just need to be put in my place." Carol raised an eyebrow and bit her bottom lip. "You got that right, sweetie." Kate's brain almost died, but luckily for her, she had the threat of Carol charging at her to worry about.

So she put her one leg back and planted her foot before lifting her other one to hit Carol, but the blonde was fast. She grabbed onto Kate's leg and dragged it down as she slid underneath Kate and her blue eyes.

Kate's face and then body hit the mat. Yes, in that order.

"Oh, Mommy's sorry," Carol said in a fake voice with a pout. Tingles surround Kate but she turned over onto her back and meet Carol's eyes. "You can't do that!"

"Do what?" Carol tilted her head with a smile. Kate huffed. She didn't know what she was yelling about. Either Carol grabbing her and pulling her to the floor or the nicknames.

"Like I said, Momm-" "Stop that!" Kate yelled from the floor. Carol took steps towards Kate until her body was over the younger woman's. Carol crouched over Kate. "Oh, you want me to stop?" Carol's voice switched from her fake, almost pornographic tone to her real one. "Let me guess, it's turning you on?"

A little frustrated, Kate lifted up and pushed Carol, making the blonde quickly shoot up and use her powers to catch herself from falling.

"Oh, okay." Carol took the hit and news well. Kate was red in the cheeks because of embarrassment, fear, and because Carol was right. The blonde crossed her arms over her white tank top. "You want me to stop treating you like the brat you are?"

Kate rose to her feet. Hands in front of her. "I'm twenty-three, not a fucking brat."

"Not with that attitude." Carol barked back. The training slowly works its way to the front of her mind again. On the battlefield, you couldn't waste a second having an attitude like this.

Kate was silent. "Okay. You want me to stop, baby?" Kate nodded. "Yes." Carol nodded and removed her arms from in front of her chest. "Oh yeah? Make me. Take me to the mat."

Kate let out a quiet sigh. Her body and mind were fighting for control, but she raised her hands and knew she needed to beat Carol.

"Atta girl." Carol winked in a sultry voice that made Kate clench her jaw and move towards Carol with a greater quickness than Carol had seen all day. Except Kate was still Kate and stumbled as she took a comprehensive step to the right, forcing her to launch forward into Carol.

But Carol was observing and moved her body to take the impact softer. Catching Kate.

Who then stepped on Carol's foot.

So technically, Kate did take Carol to the mat.

Kate landed on top of Carol as Carol wrapped her arms around the younger woman. The impact made a grunt slip from Carol's lips to Kate's ears. Quickly, Kate lifted her upper half off of Carol, and Carol's hands fell from Kate's back to her hips.

They stayed there as Kate looked over Carol's face. "Well, technically, you did what I asked," Carol smirked. "Y-yeah, I did." Kate stumbled as she felt Carol's rough hands squeeze her hips. "The problem is... I don't think this little slip-up means you're ready to lead a team."

Kate refrained from rolling her eyes—something Carol noticed.

"Oh yeah?" Kate whispered as she spread her legs wider on either side of Carol's. Carol nodded. "Yeah. Your attitude is still there, too." Kate moved her hands to Carol's and pulled them away from her body. She placed them onto the mat as her hands slid to Carol's wrist. Her body hanging over the blonde's. "I think you like it."

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Kate couldn't win. "A leader takes control, Kate." Carol gently said into the space between the two. Carol was giving Kate an opportunity. Kate slowly leaned forward until her lips hung inches away from Carol's. She looked through her eyes to see Carol's blue ones telling her she wanted it.

Kate wrapped her hand around Carol's wrist and placed her lips onto Carol's. The older woman became intoxicated from one taste of Kate Bishop. Her soft pink tasted like lavender against Carol's.

The blonde could smell the body lotion Kate used in the morning. Kate could smell and taste the chapstick Carol loved.

As the two were becoming lost in one another, Kate began to grind her hips into Carol's—the friction causing a much-needed release of pleasure as Kate moaned into Carol's mouth.

Carol nodded and moaned as Kate's lips moved to her neck. Quickly, Carol lifted her arms up and wrapped them around her. Touching and feeling her skin.

Carol's hands burned with desire against Kate.

"Oh fuck, baby!" Carol moaned when Kate began sucking on Carol's chest.

Carol moved her hands down to Kate's sides again. She squeezed and slipped her hands underneath the seam of Kate's shorts. Kate moaned as Carol lifted her head to kiss Kate's chest. At the same time, Carol's left hand moved through Kate's untrimmed hairs. "You feel so good!" Carol groaned as Kate nodded with squeaks. "Oh fuck, Carol!" Kate cried out as Carol's middle finger ran over the wet spot Kate had.

Carol lifted her body with her powers and took Kate into her arm as she placed Kate gently onto her back. Her lips still attacking the you get woman's chest. Her middle finger was still pressing against Kate's covered wet pussy. "Oh, Mom-"

Kate stopped herself, but Carol heard it. She pulled her hand out of Kate's shorts and brought it to Kate's mouth. "Open." Kate hesitated. "I'm giving you orders, Kate." Carol reaffirmed with a commanding voice. "That's it. Be good for Mommy." Carol watched as Kate's mouth dropped, and slowly, Carol's finger disappeared as Kate's mouth wrapped around it.

"Keep sucking. Do you taste yourself?" Kate nodded with a muffled moan.

Carol was making her feel a way no one else had.

Carol, with a smirk, pulled down the sides of Kate's shorts as Kate helped kick them off.

"You're doing so well, aren't you, baby? Being good for your Captain! Your leader!" Carol husked as she spread apart Kate's legs. Her lips dragging up the other woman's soft thighs. "Oh, Kate." Carol leaned down and kissed the wet spot of Kate's black cotton underwear. With Kate's hand around Carol's wrist, she kept sucking and licking Carol's fingers until Carol pulled them out. Drool coating the younger woman's chest as Carol brought those same fingers to Kate's clothed pussy.

"You're so pretty," Carol said before pulling the black panties to the side. "Fuck Carol, you're so hot!" Kate whined. Carol loved hearing Kate come unglued.

"Oh, just touch me. Please!" Kate cried out. Her fingers ran through the blonde's short hair until she reached the back of Carol's head and pushed it closer to her wet clit. Carol gave in with a smile. "There you go, Kate. Command me!"

Carol was still making this a teaching lesson, and it drove Kate crazy.

"Just shut up!" Kate responded, turned into a loud moan as Carol's tongue hit the bottom of her spread pussy and worked its way to the top of Kate's clit. Flicking the hood before she slipped her middle finger up and worked it in a circular motion.

Even through the workout leading to this moment, Carol couldn't get enough of Kate.

And Kate was in pure ecstasy as Carol ate her out and finger fucked her better than she had ever had at college.

"Oh fuck! Oh, Carol! I'm about to cum!" Kate lifted her head from the black mat and arched her back. "That's not my name, sweetheart!" Carol replied as she spit on her hand and slipped it through Kate's wet pussy lips before returning to her clit.

And Kate knew what Carol wanted to be called, but it was too late as her legs began to shake and she started cumming.

Carol kissed up Kate's body as she came down from her high. Carol knew she would be too exhausted to do anything to her, but she was okay with it.

"I have to say..." Kate started as her breathing slowed. "That might've been the best training I've ever done." Carol laughed as her body hung above Kate's. "Is that right?" Carol asked.

Kate nodded. "Although I'm not sure if anything will stick."

"Oh?" Carol raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. I mean, if I want to be a leader, I have to learn from the best."

Carol went to open her mouth. Kate interrupted her thought. "From the best who's still around." Carol closed her mouth and smiled. "I'll make something out of you yet, Bishop," Carol whispered before she leaned down and softly kissed Kate. "You still need to prove it to me."

"Oh, I will." Kate kissed her again. "I will."

dividers by @/benkeibear

[maraschinomerry]

Distracted part 2

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Summary: after Lockwood tells Lucy and George about his encounter at the auction, the three of them set out to find you and the book

Content: making out, deep conversation, mention of manipulation

A/N: thank you all so so much for the love on the first part (which is here, originally requested by @superpositvecloudshipper) and thank you for being patient with me for the follow-up, hope you like it!

Word count: 2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear + @rinisfruity14 @tigerthealien @honey-with-tea @frogmanfletch @ayoitsmickey

George paced furiously around the kitchen. Deep shadows crossed his face every time he turned away, the blackness of the night beyond the window not providing a single speck of light. "I can't believe you lost the book, Lockwood. Jesus, Barnes is going to kill us. We're screwed."

Lockwood heaved a sigh from the table, where he was scribbling something about you, the mystery woman from the auction, on the Thinking Cloth. "It's not my fault, I got trapped with this relic hunter and she pinned me down and stole it."

The thudding of George's footsteps ground to an abrupt halt and Lucy, on the other side of the table, snapped to attention. Lockwood almost squirmed under their scrutiny.

"She?" George frowned.

"We need to find her. What did she look like?" Lucy listened as Lockwood rattled off a remarkably detailed description of you and fought to keep her expression neutral. "Was she pretty?"

"Yes. Wait. No. I mean-"

Lucy burst out laughing while George stared in horror. "Oh my god, so when you say she pinned you…" Her face split into a mischievous grin.

George slammed his hands onto the table, making everyone's teacups rattle. "Do not finish that thought. But as much as I really don't want to say it, Lucy's right. We do need to find her and the book. And I think you know how we go about it."

—

"You never fail to surprise me, Locky."

The trio were down at the wharf in the early rays of morning, trying to find out if Flo knew you or your whereabouts. Much to Lockwood's chagrin, the other two were more than happy to divulge every detail they knew. Lucy had even put aside her disdain for the other girl to be able to fully participate in the gossip.

"I know, I lost a fight, these things happen. It was a very crowded space."

"I was talking about you finally being intimate with someone."

Lockwood blushed. "I wouldn't exactly call it-" the words died in his throat as Flo threw him a knowing glare. "Okay fine, but that's not why I- why we need to find her. She stole something important, and we have to get it back. Please, Flo."

"Fine. But I'm not coming with you. Being a relic woman was my thing until she decided to steal the idea, along with a bunch of my sources. It won't be pretty if I see her again."

—

Someone was coming. More than one someone. The sounds of multiple sets of feet and muffled voices echoed off the concrete walls of the place you called home, a disused undercroft in South Bank. You tucked yourself behind a pillar, pulling a knife from the holster on your leg.

"Hello?" The voice that called out was deep, but not deep enough to be a man's, and oddly familiar. "I'm here for the book." Oh.

You slipped out from your hiding place to see the boy from the auction flanked by a bespectacled, curly-haired boy dressed all in orange and a pretty brunette girl in a practical blue playsuit and leather jacket. They were both a little shorter than him.

"Hello darling," you flashed him a smile, noting the way the other two people glanced at each other behind his back. How much did they know? "I'm afraid you've wasted your time, though I'm sure I can make it up to you." Knife still in hand, you stepped a little closer. He didn't move, just looked you up and down, but the girl switched from behind his shoulder to in front. He murmured something to her, and you caught the name Lucy.

"You can make it up by not lying to me again."

"Okay, first of all, I never lied to you. I did have fun and you definitely seemed to. Secondly, what makes you think I'm lying now? I don't have the book."

"You're too smart to get rid of something that valuable. Personal insurance, didn't you say?"

"My my, you've got a good memory. Either that or you've been really thinking about me."

"We are still here, you know," the other boy interrupted. "Any time you want to let us know what's going on would be great, or shall we leave you to it?" The girl, Lucy, waggled her eyebrows a little. She definitely knew the whole of it, then. The taller boy pondered for a moment before giving them an apologetic smile and saying it was perhaps best.

As soon as they were gone, you sheathed your knife and took the boy by his tie. He gulped as your fingers ran up and down the smooth silk - not pulling, not forcing, just reinforcing the fact that you were unarmed and right in his personal space. His hand came up, ghosting across your shoulder, before it dropped and he cleared his throat.

"So, what exactly do you need personal insurance for?"

"Oh please, don't say it like you don't know. You're friends with that Bones girl, you've probably dealt with tons of relic hunters. It's just another part of the lifestyle."

There was something soft and sincere in the way he looked at you, a far cry from the angry, passionate boy you'd met the first time. He sat on one of the hard concrete benches and held out a hand. "Then you know you can trust me with it."

You refused the hand, but in spite of yourself sat down next to him with a huff. The last thing you wanted was to go churning out some sob story, especially with a fling so quick you still didn't actually know his name, but if that was what it took for him to leave you alone then so be it. Although, you had to admit, there was a tiny part of you that was pleased he'd come looking, that you'd got the chance to see him again. He seemed nice. Sharp enough to go toe-to-toe with you yet caring enough to know when to stand down. Your world would eat him alive.

"Nothing good comes from trusting others." You half-expected a snappy retort, a speech about the healing power of friendship, but he must have sensed the weight behind your words because he said nothing, simply waited for you to elaborate. So you did.

The long and the short of it was that you'd been an idiot. When you first became a relic hunter, you had only just lost your Talent and had no idea how to navigate the world without it, so you'd fallen in with a more experienced guy a few years your senior. He taught you everything you needed to know, helped get you on your feet and fending for yourself, but he also used your loyalty against you and tricked you into an obligation to give him a cut of anything you earned on a hunt. It wasn't enough that you couldn't afford to eat or anything, but just enough that you'd never be able to break away and gain your dependence from him. The book was your insurance because technically you hadn't got it on a hunt, so it was your nest egg for when you finally got the confidence to break free from him.

"Not that I think I ever will," you added bitterly. "It's too late for me."

"No. I don't believe that." The boy was almost choked up, watching you with the most pained expression.

"It's that relentless optimism that left you without the book in the first place."

"I'm not being optimistic, I'm being realistic. Come with us, we could help you."

"Look, you're sweet and all, but don't mistake me thinking you're hot for me liking you."

He raised an eyebrow and gave you another of those irresistible grins like he had when he first swiped the book. "At least you think I'm hot."

You laughed, genuinely, and it startled you a little. "Stop being so smug and get over here before your mates get impatient."

He was on you in seconds. All the despondency of the conversation evaporated in the sudden heat between you as he dragged you into his lap. You moved with agility, knees either side of his waist and feet between his knees, and twisted your hand into his hair to hold yourself close. He moaned into the kiss and clamped his hands firmly round your waist. Still tasted like bergamot. You savoured him, drank him in, then decided to get a little experimental. Letting go of his hair, you took both hands to loosen his tie and undo the top couple of shirt buttons. The second his skin was exposed, you ducked down and worked a blossoming bruise into that perfect neck. To your delight, he tilted his head back to grant you further access. Once you considered him suitably marked, you trailed kisses up towards his jaw, and he brought his head back down to catch your lips with his. The hands on your waist moved in opposite directions: one up and around your back, the other down over your hip, lower and lower. You shuddered in excitement, but the movement jolted his teeth a little too hard against your lower lip and made you jump.

"Sorry!" he whispered, already deep voice made even huskier by desire and shortness of breath. "Are you…?"

"I'm fine," you reassured him, "but maybe it's a good time to call it quits while we still can."

You disentangled from one another, the tension of unresolved intimacy thick in the air that grew between you as you moved apart.

"You know," he began without making eye contact, "the offer still stands. We could make it work."

"I know. But no, we couldn't." Part of you desperately wished it weren't the case, but you understood deep down that you could never return to his world. You suspected he knew it too. He began to move away. "Wait, what about the book?"

The smile he gave you lacked any of the electricity it usually did, but still had the same depth of feeling. "Keep it. Consider it proof that trust can get you something." He was almost at the edge of the undercroft now, almost out of sight.

"Wait!" you called again, louder this time. Inwardly, you cringed at how needy you must have sounded.

"If you don't want me to go, just say so." That spark was back in his smirk.

"No, I just… I still don't know your name."

"Lockwood. Can I ask for yours?"

You smiled softly, trying so hard to keep up the confident snarky persona but feeling it crumble by the second in the face of his utter sincerity. "Maybe next time, darling." And then he was gone.

—

The letterbox of 35 Portland Row rattled. That was odd. The postman had already been by today. Lockwood pushed himself wearily out of his armchair and made his way into the hallway. On the mat was a single scrap of folded paper. Frowning, he picked it up. The handwriting was unfamiliar, messy with haste.

'Behind the wall'.

There was nobody at all on the street, no matter which way he looked. Whoever had delivered the note had made a point not to stick around. Tucked behind a small bush in the front garden, leaning against the wall as promised, so well concealed nobody could possibly know it was there without being told to look, was a rectangular block wrapped in brown paper. Tucked in the front was another scrap of the same paper, with the same handwriting.

'Lockwood, darling. Proof trust goes both ways. Until we meet again, (name) x'

Blinking back tears, Lockwood peeled back the paper with shaky hands. Hands that were holding the book.

[imnotjaesblog]

Part 1: The Liar

Part 1 of 10

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Featuring: Dong Si Cheng

Summary: Si Cheng decides he can get everything he wants in this life if he has you. He can be successful, appreciated and most of all accepted in society if you are by his arm. Only when you blow him off does he feel that delusion shatter. In order to keep his dreams and pride unharmed he creates a lie saying he slept with the most unreachable girl on campus.

This results in you fucking every single last one of his idiot friends just to teach him a lesson.

Lying is wrong and you should only say things that are the truth.

Shit gets crazy after Part 1

Warnings: None

Part one has no smut just angst.

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!

Words: 2K

7:49 pm

Your pencil tapped on your paper as you briefly checked the time. The exam had started an hour ago yet here you were now still stuck on the tenth question. Why wasn’t anything you studied on the exam? You asked yourself checking the clock again. You felt the heat pick up on the back of your neck. Beads of sweat form as you reread the question in your head.

Then you saw the word dinner and remembered in a few minutes you had to meet that boy from last week for dinner.

After meeting him at a frat party and being his beer pong party he whispered to you he’d take to dinner if you both won. It was Friday night, the day he said he’d take you and you were stuck in a classroom taking an exam.

-

Si Cheng waited outside the restaurant checking his watch. He arrived earlier than you did just so you wouldn’t believe he stood you up. Seeing eight slowly approaching he checked around to see if you were there. When he failed to find you he sat outside the restaurant on his phone.

He figured you’d arrive at eight, possibly a little after.

-

9:01 pm

You have finished the exam. Place it on your professor's desk and leave it in your car. The restaurant was only a few minutes away from your university the drive was only seven minutes long. When you arrived you saw WinWin sitting on a bench leg bouncing. You sighed debating on whether or not to drive off.

Si Cheng wasn’t the first guy to ask on a date. There have been many guys before Winwin who obsessed over you and your looks. The guys that kissed the ground you walked on. You were used to the Si Cheng types, guys that tried to make you feel like you owed them something because you were attractive. You rolled your eyes at the thought. You stopped your car deciding to let him down easily.

You didn’t need to rehearse the right words to say like a girl in the mirror breaking up with her boyfriend. You would say the same thing you always did, the truth at least part of it.

You were going to tell him it was because of your exam. However, you were also going to tell him you can’t stay out to do anything else since you had class in the morning even though you don’t have class on Saturdays. Walking over to him you noticed his outfit. Dressed in a black button-up and slacks that wrinkled from all the pacing he probably did at some point.

He looked up from his phone shaking his head. He stood up from the bench shoving his phone in his pocket. He walked over to you upset about your lateness. You sighed telling yourself in your head to do this quickly, your show was starting soon.

“Look I’m sorry I’m late, my exam went-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear some lame excuse. Just tell me the truth,” he said frustratedly. You sighed trying to hide your smile. You shook your head licking your front teeth in bubbling annoyance. You two barely know each other and he’s treating this like some breakup.

“Look my exam went on for longer than I thought, okay? Now if you excuse me I don’t need to explain the rest to you,” you said turning to walk away. Your foot barely reached the pavement before his hand grabbed your elbow. “Wait a minute don’t go. You owe me a date,” he said turning you around to face him causing your purse to slip from your arm and onto the ground.

He bent down to help you but you prevented him from touching anything.

“Uh I don’t owe you anything,” you said pulling away. You took out your hand sanitizer from your purse opened it and rubbed the liquid into your skin. You closed the cap putting it away. Take out your pink lip gloss and place it on your lips. You closed the top as you spoke to Si Cheng.

“And if I remember correctly you offered to take me out. I can say no whenever I want and because you're being a dick about me being late then I’m just going to go,” you said trying to hide how annoyed you felt. There is no reason for you to be wasting energy on this guy who you’ll avoid for the rest of your life. He scoffed this time not chasing after you as you walked away.

He nodded his head seeing you disappear into your car and drive off. “Okay then…then I’ll remember this my way,” he said to himself as he walked over to his car driving off to a lingerie store.

He walked into the store finding a pink pair of panties. He purchased the clothing immediately removing it from the bag once he sat in his car. He pulled your small bottle of perfume out that fell from your purse. He sprayed the black bottle twice on the panties waving them around. He sprayed your perfume in the back seat of his car, as well as his shirt. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt, running a couple of fingers through his hair as well.

Once he looked fucked out he drove off back to his apartment that he shared with his friends.

“Heyyy how did it go?” Jaehyun asked the minute he saw Si Cheng walk in. Si Cheng smirked taking off his shoes and placing them near the others. He removed his jacket as well throwing it behind an empty chair. The other boys slowly started to gather around all waiting for Si Cheng response.

All of them had came over waiting for him to come home just to hear the details of the date Si Cheng claims you agreed too. The men in the room weren’t fully convinced you said to him. The boy, like many others had been drooling over you since orientation two years ago. He waited of his moment with you, and especially after discovering who your father is he had to rush in before someone else took his spot.

He sighed still feeling the sting in his chest. You not only rejected him, but embarrassed him and he was upset. However he couldn’t tell his friends. He couldn’t go back to being some loser. You were his one way ticket to the top. He wouldn’t let whatever status you had ruin it for him, even if he had to lie.

“Well I took her to that new Italian spot that just opened up. Not to far from the school,” he said seeing all the boys enter the room. Jaemin lighting up on the couch as he listened in on the story.

“La Villa right?” Johnny asked leaning against the wall. Si Cheng nodded looking his direction. He turned away looking back at the living room. He pulled back a chair sitting down and facing the room. “We spent some time there. We talked about life and her dad’s company. She said she could get me a job,” he said lying straight through his teeth.

Jisung’s eyes widened raising up from beside Haechan, Doyoung doing the same. They both shook their heads. Doyoung speaking up first. “No way. I’ve been trying to intern there for months and you get a job? Unbelievable,” he says falling back in his seat. Haechan chuckles mockingly beside Jisung.

“I’m sorry?” He raises a brow. Everyone turned their heads to him. “So all of sudden Y/n the hottest girl at our school not only agrees to go on a date with you, but also just gives you a job?” He questions a smirk on his lips as he licks his teeth. He shakes his head hands falling with a clap to his knees. “I’m sorry I just find that hard to believe. I mean if Jaehyun didn’t even have a shot what makes you believe you do?” He asked. Si Cheng felt his cheeks get hot. The same anger and embarrassment he felt earlier tonight still boiling inside him. Haechan always knew how to stir his pot.

“I mean let’s be so for real guys. She’s never been with anyone and all of sudden she puts out for him,” he points directly at Si Cheng, the spot light beginning to burn. He chuckled darkly looking back at the boy with the red cheeks. “There’s absolutely no fucking way,” he says causing Jeno to step up.

“He does have a point. No one here has ever even walked her home. The Y/n were all talking about would rather walk home in the dark then let anyone walk her home. I’m sorry Si Cheng I gotta agree with Haechan here,” he says with a sigh.

Most of the boys start to lose their faith. In a moments panic Si Cheng takes out the pink underwear from his pocket. “Not only did we go on a date, we fucked,” he said holding the panties out. The guys came closer rushing to the pink cloth. “No way,” YangYang says brushing his fingers on the cloth.

“Of course the virgins believe you,” said Yuta from the corner. He had been standing there the whole time. “It’s true. It even smells like her,” he said lifting the underwear to Taeyong’s nose. He sniffs the cloth eyes wide. He nods his head furiously. Causing Mark to take a whiff.

“It’s hers, it smells exactly like her perfume,” Mark says handing it to Doyoung. Doyoung takes a whiff humming in satisfaction. “It’s her perfume. Smells like Calculus,” he said closing his eyes picturing you at your seat sitting in front of him during class.

Jaehyun walks over snatching the panties from Doyoung’s hand waking him from his fantasy. He pouts seeing the cloth fly away. Jaehyun brings it to his nose. “Yeah this is definitely her perfume. No way Si Cheng could afford to buy a bottle of this,” he says holding the underwear up. Haechan takes it smelling it as well.

Everyone awaits his reaction. Having no choice but to give in he nods. “Okay okay It’s hers,” he says.

“I told you. We fucked my whole car smells like her,” he said seeing some of the thirsty boys run to his car. Opening the door and taking in the scent of your perfume. They were truly obsessed with you.

“You know this means your like a fucking king?” Mark asked Si Cheng. Si Cheng smirked to himself arms crossing over his chest as he stuffed the panties back in his pocket. Johnny walked over placing an arm around Si Cheng shoulder ruffling his hair. Si Cheng chuckled seeing the boys close his car door running back to the house.

Jisung sat in the same seat he did before. Something still felt so off to him. All of sudden you were interest in someone, and of all people interested in Si Cheng? It just doesn’t seem to make any sense. He frowned chewing on his lips as he watched his friends turn into animals at the very smell of you. All fighting to see who gets to keep your underwear.

He turned away walking into his shared room with Haechan. He closed the door behind him laying on his bed and turning on his phone. He opened Instagram scrolling through different post. Then you showed on his screen. He smiled liking the picture. Even if he didn’t know you very well, he couldn’t deny the obvious you were very beautiful. Like a breath of fresh air.

He wished he was the one to take out you. He sighs smile fading from his lips. You didn’t have to kiss him or even hold his hand. He just wanted to get to know you, take you out and listen to what you had to say. It can’t be easy always being chased around like a piece of meat. A part of him feels bad, for not only hearing what they say about you but not doing anything about it.

Starting to feel the pity swallow him up. He closes his phone placing it on his nightstand. He drifts off to sleep with only you in his mind.

While Jisung drifted off to sleep Si Cheng stood out in the living room drinking with his friends celebrating what he thought would be the start of the best day of his life.

If only he knew the worst was yet to come.

———

You walked down the hill outside your apartment building. Walking past the fountain full of birds chirping. Passing by an older couple sitting on a bench enjoying the warm weather. The sun is out and not a cloud in the sky. The breeze was cool, the warmth only adding comfort. Your dog sniffed around looking for her favorite spot. You held a coffee in your hand and shades concealing your eyes. The perfect day you thought.

You decided to follow in the couple's footsteps and sit on a bench just under a tree. Small bugs fly by buzzing around. A butterfly landing on a pink flower. You smiled pulling out your phone to take a picture. As your camera snapped you saw an incoming call from your closet friend Wendy.

You picked up the call quickly. Wendy never called you this early unless you were meeting for pilates, but your class wasn't until the evening. "Hello?" you answered her call.

"Y/n omg," she said voice full of relief. "Is everything okay?" you asked her holding on tightly to your lease so your dog wouldn't take off. She let out a shaky breath. "No exactly," she said.

"Why? Did you get pregnant?" you asked eyes wide. You were genuinely worried for her, her taste in men was so poor. "Fourtaunley no," she responded with relief. You picked up your dog and placed her on your lap. "What's up?" you asked looking in your small bag for a snack.

"That Si Cheng guy from Jaehyun's party is telling everyone you guys fucked," she said annoyed. You scoffed unbothered, What's Si Cheng to you? Some boy that you'll never have to see again.

"So?" you questioned with a shrug placing a grape in your mouth. You placed your dog on the bench bringing one leg over your knee. You sat back taking in the sunlight. "Who cares? It's not like anyone believes him," you said nonchalantly again used to the behavior of men.

"Doesn't seem like it. He's claiming you did, saying you left your underwear in his backseat as proof," she responded. Your laughter died but you weren't worried. You shrug slipping another green past your lips. "That can be anyone's. Besides, you know he's not my time," you said disgusted. You start to have doubts, did Wendy believe him over you?

"Yeah I know, but a bunch of guys went over to his house. They smelled your perfume all over his car," she said trying her best to make you understand how serious this is. You instead remained calm, this didn't have to become a huge problem when it stems from such a short issue. One phone call to your father and you could have this whole thing taken care of.

"That's impossible. The company from the perfume I own only sells twelve bottles a year. No way he could afford to get his hands on that, it's more than his tuition," you said still unfazed.

"Y/n he told the whole school. Everyone believes him, he's on a fucking high right The boys I practically kiss his feet, and even some of the professors are nicer to him. He's even telling people your father is giving him a job," she said finally getting your attention.

She sighed. "Whether you fucked him or not it's completely getting to his head. We gotta do something about this," she said determined to help you. You thought about it for a moment. Letting your leg swing and your lip pouting helps you think.

He thinks he can lie and get away with it. Use you to get to your family and walk freely while you suffer the consequences of what? Being a woman. That's not fair and you knew you had to do something about it.

"Hello? Y/n are you okay?" Wendy asked.

You smirked a hopeful feeling in your chest. You nodded looking back at the butterfly from before. You watched as it flew away.

"Wendy, can you get me a list of all of Winwin's friends?" you asked but you were telling her. "Why what are you planning on doing?" she asked a hint of mischief in her voice.

"I am gonna fuck every last one of his friends. Teach him lying is bad and then watch him fall apart," you said feeling high off the confidence that flowed through your veins. A part of you is still disappointed in men and angry with their ways.

"I found his friends, I'll send you the list," she said. You heard your phone bing. Checking it you opened notes seeing the list of names.

Park Jisung.

The dork from your anatomy class.

To be continued…

Hope you enjoyed part one of my Easy A series and see you soon for part two!

Tags: @sexygrass @scarfac3 @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @chazzthecannoli @kyungsooislifeu

[metalmonki]

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 12

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

That night, I found myself in Dean's bed. After finishing my bath and changing into my pajamas, I made my way down the hall to his room. He was lying sprawled out across the bed, relaxed in nothing but a black t-shirt and boxer briefs. Taking a steadying breath, I lay down beside him, feeling a little out of my element but strangely comfortable.

Dean wrapped an arm around me, his fingers absentmindedly weaving through my hair. I found myself inching closer, resting my head on his chest, my hand splayed over his stomach, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall as he breathed. Just as I started drifting off, I felt the soft rumble of his laughter under my cheek.

“This is freakin’ weird,” he murmured, half amused, half uncertain.

I yawned, my own voice drowsy. “Tell me about it.”

A silence settled over us, but it was comfortable—almost warm, even with the lingering strangeness of sharing a bed. He shifted, pulling me a little closer, and his breath brushed against my hair.

“Guess we’ll have to get used to it,” he said softly, almost to himself.

There was something in his voice, a hesitance or a quiet vulnerability that surprised me. Dean wasn’t usually the type to dwell on emotions or look too closely at things that made him uncomfortable. I wanted to ask what he meant, but his fingers resumed their soft, steady rhythm through my hair, and I found myself sinking further into the quiet safety of his embrace.

Eventually, Dean’s breathing evened out, and I realized he’d fallen asleep. I stayed awake a while longer, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart beneath my cheek.

The next morning Dean and I were up and pacing at the hatch waiting for the groceries to be delivered. Sam, Theresa and Bobby had stopped answering our calls weeks ago. Hell, I was convinced we could be dead and they probably wouldn’t come checking on us. The creaking of the hatch sent both of us running to be the first one at the hatch.

Sam stood on the other side of the hatch, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You two done yet? Or do I need to leave you in there another week?"

Dean glanced at me, a mix of frustration and reluctance clear in his eyes. He’d never been good at talking about feelings, and being forced into it? That was a nightmare. I felt his hand twitch slightly, the tiniest hint of tension under his cool exterior.

“We’ve dealt with it, okay?” Dean called out, his voice taking on that half-annoyed, half-pleading tone he used when he was trying not to lose it. “Just open the damn door.”

Sam’s skeptical laugh filtered through the small space. “I’m not buying it, Dean. You’ve been dancing around this for months, man. What makes you think I’ll believe you after a couple of weeks stuck together?”

I sighed, stepping closer to the hatch. "Sam, it’s not about the time we’ve been locked up. We talked. We... figured some things out." I glanced at Dean, who gave me a small, almost imperceptible nod. "We know where we stand now."

Sam's footsteps moved closer, and his voice dropped lower, more serious. "And where’s that?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably beside me, running a hand through his hair. "We're good, alright? You can let us out now."

"Yeah?" Sam’s voice was filled with suspicion. "So, what’s the plan then? Gonna keep pretending nothing happened, or have you two finally admitted you’re crazy about each other?"

I blushed at Sam’s bluntness, but before I could respond, Dean stepped forward, his jaw tightening. "We’re done pretending, Sam. Now, can you let us out or do I have to kick this door down?"

A long pause followed. I could practically hear Sam’s wheels turning as he debated whether we were telling the truth or if this was just another one of Dean’s deflections.

Then, finally, the sound of keys rattling echoed through the hatch.

"Alright," Sam said with a sigh. "But if I find out you’re still avoiding this… next time, I’m locking you in for a year."

The hatch creaked open, and the sunlight streamed in, hitting us both like a slap to the face. Dean shot me a sideways look, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk.

"See?" he muttered, nudging me lightly. "Told you we’d get out."

I smiled back, rolling my eyes but feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. Maybe we weren’t entirely done figuring things out, but one thing was for sure—we weren’t pretending anymore.

As we stepped through the door, the sudden brightness of the outdoors made me squint, but Dean’s hand in mine kept me grounded. His grip was firm—steady. For all the tension and frustration that had built up over the days, that simple touch felt like an anchor.

We looked around, expecting to see Bobby or even Theresa. But to our surprise, it was just Sam, leaning against the Impala with his arms crossed, watching us with that annoyingly knowing expression.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s everyone else?”

Sam shrugged, pushing off from the car. "Just me here. Bobby and Theresa are waiting back at his place. Figured they’d leave me to deal with you two first.”

Dean huffed, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Of course they did." He gave me a look, half-exasperated, half-amused, then started toward the Impala, pulling me along with him.

“You sure this isn’t some other test, Sammy? Locking us up wasn’t enough for you?” Dean teased, though his voice had a sharp edge to it.

Sam just raised an eyebrow. "Get in the car, Dean."

With a sigh, Dean let go of my hand long enough to open the passenger door for me, his fingers brushing mine again as I slid into the seat. There was a certain comfort in the familiar scent of the leather, the faint smell of gun oil and coffee that always clung to Dean’s car. It felt like slipping back into something safe, even though we both knew things between us had shifted. Maybe for the better, maybe not, but we’d figure it out.

Dean climbed in beside me, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. Sam, of course, got in the backseat like it was his right to act all high and mighty.

As Dean started the engine, the low, familiar rumble of the Impala washed over me, sending a shiver of nostalgia down my spine. It was almost as if nothing had changed—except, this time, Dean’s hand found mine again, even as he steered the car down the gravel road.

Sam didn’t miss it. His gaze flickered to our joined hands, but he didn’t say anything. Just smirked that knowing smirk of his.

The ride to Bobby’s was quiet. I could feel the tension in Dean’s shoulders, the way he gripped the wheel a little too tightly. Maybe it was because we were driving back into reality, back to where things were messy and complicated. We’d had time in the house to confront some things, but the real world? That was another story.

After what felt like an eternity, the Impala pulled into Bobby’s driveway. The old house stood like a sentinel, the weight of all the memories, good and bad, hanging in the air. Theresa’s car was parked off to the side next to my Impala which one of them had clearly driven here, and I could already see her and Bobby waiting on the porch.

Dean cut the engine and exhaled slowly, his fingers still intertwined with mine. He glanced at me, his expression a mix of reluctance and resolve. "Ready for round two?" he asked quietly, though his voice had a teasing edge.

I smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "As long as you are."

Dean’s mouth curved into a smirk, and he leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head before we climbed out of the car. Sam was already out, walking toward the porch where Bobby and Theresa stood waiting, arms crossed, looking like they had their own set of questions ready to go.

Whatever came next, Dean and I were in this together now. And maybe, just maybe, we could handle whatever round two had in store.

As soon as we stepped out of the Impala, Bobby and Theresa descended on us like we’d walked straight into an interrogation room.

Bobby’s gaze was sharp, arms crossed over his chest as he stood on the porch, his eyes flicking from me to Dean and back again. Theresa, standing beside him, had her hands on her hips, her expression unreadable but clearly sceptical.

“Alright,” Bobby started, his voice gruff but laced with that tone that let you know he wasn’t buying any crap. “You two better not think you’re off the hook just because you’ve been let out. Sam might’ve let you out, but I need to hear it from you.”

Dean gave me a quick side-eye before stepping forward, but before he could say anything, Theresa cut in, arms dropping to her sides as she took a step closer. “Are you really done pretending? Or is this just some act to get out of that house?”

I could feel the weight of their stares. Dean had tensed up beside me, his jaw clenched, clearly not in the mood for another round of questions, but we had to deal with this.

“We’ve worked it out,” I said, speaking up before Dean could snap back with some sarcastic comment. “We’re not just playing along. We know it probably seems like that after all this, but it’s… different now.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced. “Different how? You’ve been avoiding this for years, and now all of a sudden, a few days locked up together, and you’ve figured it all out? I ain’t buying it.”

Dean let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "We’re not saying everything’s magically perfect, Bobby. It’s not. But we’re done running from it. Done pretending like there’s nothing going on."

Theresa folded her arms, her expression softening just a bit as she tilted her head at me. “And you? Are you done pretending? Because this only works if you’re both all in.”

I felt Dean’s hand brush mine again, a small, subtle reassurance as I looked from him to Theresa. “Yeah, I’m done pretending. We both are. It wasn’t easy, but we talked. And we’re going to keep talking. We know where we stand now.”

Theresa studied us for a long moment, her eyes lingering on our joined hands. “You better,” she finally said, her voice gentler but still firm. “Because if I find out you’re back to ignoring each other, I’ll lock you both up myself. And believe me, it won’t be as nice as Sam’s version.”

“If I had my way all you would have gotten was a blanket on the floor and a pot to piss in” Bobby grunted in agreement, stepping forward with his no-nonsense look firmly in place. “You got a lot of history between you. I ain’t saying you gotta figure it all out today, but you better not go back to pretending none of this exists.”

Dean nodded, his expression softening just a bit. “We’re not going back to that. We’ll deal with it—together.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but there was a shift in the air, like Bobby and Theresa were finally starting to believe us, even if only a little.

Theresa sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides as she exchanged a look with Bobby. “Alright,” she said, her tone a little warmer now. “We’ll hold you to that. Just… don’t mess this up.”

Dean smirked, a bit of his usual confidence sneaking back in. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Bobby shook his head, but there was a flicker of approval in his eyes as he muttered, “Well, let’s hope you’re telling the truth this time, or I’ll find a way to make sure you never leave each other’s sight.”

Dean squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, a silent acknowledgment that we were both ready for whatever came next. We weren’t done dealing with everything between us, but for the first time in a long time, we were on the same page. And that was enough—for now.

[thecoramaria]

Hello! I was wondering if you could give some tips on how to make fanfic chapters longer. I see a lot readers tend to like chapters around the 4k word mark or even more, but it's a feat if I write a chapter longer than 2k. The content I write is still good (imo) but I want to do more and am stuck on what to add that would benefit the fic and not be pointless filler. Thanks 🩷💛

Hey, Nonny!

First I'd just like to say that chapter length preferences among readers depend a lot on things like the type of fanfic and the platform you post on. For example, short chapters and frequent updates tend to be the standard on Wattpad. They're also pretty typical of episodic and/or slice-of-life stories. Because they rely on pre-established stories or worlds that the characters are familiar with, you just don't need to use as many words to move the plot forward every chapter (and in the case of an episodic story, you don't need to move an overarching plot forward at all, but from your ask, I don't get the vibe that you're trying to write that kind of thing).

Point is, sometimes short chapters work better for the story you're trying to tell, and they can also serve to make your story more binge-worthy (since it's easier to justify reading one more chapter), but they could lessen the experience for people following update-to-update, particularly if you don't update often. It's like the difference between being given a single piece of chocolate vs a full bar, you know?

If you really are set on posting longer chapters and believe this will make your story better, then here are my tips:

Figure out why your chapters are short in the first place. Is it because you make each scene its own chapter? Is it because your pacing flies past? Is it because it's light on details, or doesn't get specific enough? (E.g. "He set a tasty breakfast before her. She dug in with gusto." vs "He set a plate of steaming sunny-side-up eggs and crackling bacon before her. One wiff of the smokey, savoury aromas, and she snatched up her fork, shovelling it in. The salty crunch. The burst of creamy yolk. It was heaven.")

Combine chapters. If two or three chapters tie together nicely because they're part of the same arc, or take place in the same location, picking up where the other left off, those are good candidates to combine. Also if a chapter has an ending that doesn't give the reader a good reason to keep reading, but the next scene adds a jolt of tension back into the plot, that's also a good candidate for combining scenes/chapters.

Ask yourself what you can add to enhance what you already have there. For example, if you have a plot twist planned, is there a way you can include more foreshadowing? Is there an opportunity to flesh out your characters more? (If we mostly see a character put on a strong front, it'll tug our hearts when we see them show some vulnerability.) Is there an aspect of your worldbuilding that could use some explanation or showing off? (For example, if your plot involves saving the world, it's definitely a good idea to get your readers attached to said world.) Are there more obstacles you could add to the story that might also serve the previous purposes? Do you have a lot of high-tension back-to-back scenes that could use some quiet breather scenes in-between?

When editing, I've adopted the philosophy of "Cut as much as possible without sacrificing anything that enhances the story" as well as "Concise and precise" which means "say The Most with as few words as possible. To me, this is the key to avoiding filler in my own work, and how I create long stories that don't drag. I think that as you make your chapters longer, these are the ideas you should keep in mind, as these will help you determine if you're lengthening your story will pointless filler or adding something with value.

If you still struggle to make that distinction though, maybe find a beta-reader or a buddy who doesn't mind being spoiled for your work. You can soundboard your ideas with them to get a second opinion, because sometimes that's what you really need when you feel like there's something "wrong" with your work but you can't quite put your finger on it.

[thevoidwatches]

The following is a long, rambling story about my difficulties writing prose fiction in the last few years. If you want to skip to the end, it's that I'm taking the plunge into writing again and have started work on a queer erotic novel currently titled Melting in her Mouth. Snippets may be forthcoming as I write.

It's been a long time since I did any creative writing - well, unless you count superhero RP servers as creative writing. Let's just say that it's been a few years since I've done any prose writing. And it's been even longer since I wrote any original prose - the last long-form thing I wrote was a MHA fanfic, Breath of Life, which has gotten one update in the last four years but which I swear I will finish some day! Before that it was a series of original superhero novels that I got two-and-a-bit books into (can you tell that I like superheroes?) called Paternum, which I'm sorry to say I probably won't be going back to. If I ever do, it'll probably be a complete rewrite as I'm no longer satisfied with the pacing of my plot outline.

In these last few years, I've done a lot of other creative stuff. I've gotten a lot better at drawing (although like most artists I'm still never satisfied with my work). I've gotten a lot better at guitar (although I'm still not brave enough to try writing my own songs). I've done a lot of gamemastering, as the aforementioned RP servers were living worlds.

Mostly, though, I did RP. I did an awful lot of it - my records (because I'm that kind of nerd) suggest something like 2 million words, as a conservative estimate. That's a hell of a lot of writing. It's likely more than all my prose put together - Paternum totals to something like 400k, Breath of Life barely tops 100k, and none of my other non-public works like the Court Magician or Ruins of the Empire match up to either in length (around 60k but finished, and only 30k and abandoned, respectively). Even my early-early works like the Family Trade and Time Until Death (abandoned in college and finished in high school) won't tip the scales. I'm not even going to count story concepts that never got off the ground, like Starlight City Champions or the Empyriad.

Given that the vast majority of my output, now, has been collaborative RP - and that all of my recent work has been - it probably shouldn't be surprising that I find myself nervous at the idea of going back to prose. I have to write the whole thing?? All by myself?!? That's scary! Not to mention that these days I'm used to long, long-form stuff - stories with no set end, designed to continue immediately.

And that, of course, is a fear of its own. It's happened to me multiple times at this point - I come up with an idea for a story and start outlining it, and the outline just... keeps going. And going. And when I finally cut it off, at what seems like a reasonable point, I realize that it's actually unreasonable long. That's why Starlight City Champions is unlikely to ever happen - I outlined 6 books, then realized that each book was likely to be at least 300k words which, at a conservative estimate of writing around 2k words a week (the rate at which I wrote Paternum), would have taken almost two decades!

But the thing is, that fear - the fear that I'll never finish anything - was pushing me to never even start anything. If I never started, I would never disappoint myself by not finishing. But... either way, I wasn't putting out anything complete.

I've made a resolution to myself - I'm going to start a story, and I'm going to finish it. I'm starting small - a romance novella - and I'm starting self-contained. No room for sequels, no big overarching plot to spiral out of control, no huge cast of characters that all need development. A simple story with a straightforward outline.

I've prepared myself, I hope. I read Gwen Hayes' Romancing the Beat to make sure that my plot outline would work. I read some romance novels that I find inspirational - and aspirational - like @bibliosphere's Hunger Pangs and @unpretty's Unprofessional Behavior (can you guess that my novel is going to be erotica as well as romance?). I passed my outline to friends online to get feedback, and went through a handful of revisions before I told myself that it wasn't going to get any better by stalling longer.

I started writing Melting in her Mouth (working title, it may change) this weekend. After some false starts, the words are flowing again. I feel good about this. I feel hopeful.

If you take anything from this long, rambling meditation on nothing, let it be this - don't let your fears stop you from doing the things you enjoy.

Oh - and that I'm working on a queer erotic romance novel. Snippets may be forthcoming as I get farther into it.

[iris-ren]

the priest of styria

chapter one

vampire/priest getou x reader

wc: 2k

tags: talks of death and female arousal // not beta read or edited

________________________________

you caught news that there was to be a priest in town to take over at the cathedral after father issac’s untimely death. you had yet to see the man, but if he was anything like father issac, you figured his sermons would probably be quite boring and drawn out. apparently the new priest that is taking over the reigns is from a faraway place. a place that no one had heard of.

your ladies maid discussed the matter with you while brushing your hair behind you in the mirror. ophelia smiled while admiring the intricate braid that she was weaving into your hair, listening to your incessant questions.

“oh please! ophelia it’s been ages since something interesting happened around here. you must tell me what you’ve heard! there’s no need to act coy with me. how long have we known each other again?”

ophelia let out a sigh for dramatic effect and met your eyes in the mirror, “since we were in diapers my lady, but you must hear me now, when i say that i know as much as you! the man is a mystery to us all.”

you couldn’t help but pester your old friend, it was true what you said. father issac’s death stirred up all of styria, and with the news of the replacement priest arriving soon after the fact, brought pandemonium to the town.

“it’s unheard of really, how is it possible for not a single soul to know what the man looks like, or where he hailed from?”

ophelia shrugged her shoulders.

you rolled your eyes at her in the mirror, “well let’s hope that his sermon’s are more lively than poor old father issac’s.” you said with a chuckle. ophelia pinched your shoulder and you shrieked in faux pain. “you mustn’t be so crass my lady.” she said, trying to conceal her own laughter.

“you are a nasty little spinster, ophelia!” you yelled while trying to pinch her back. she swiftly swatted your hand away and grabbed onto your shoulders to still your movements and continued to work on your hair. “you’re one to talk my lady, are you not almost a spinster yourself?”

you gasped sarcastically, “how cruel of you ophelia! how could i be blamed for the lack of options offered to me? it is not my fault that no one in this village is worth a damn. besides, they’re all just interested in the fortune mother and father left to me in the will; i’d rather be a wise old spinster than a young wedded idiot.”

“you have such a way with words.” ophelia jutted, while putting the finishing touches on your hair.

-

it was considered most improper for a lady of your stature to be out running errands with your ladies maid but the judgemental stares from the town’s folk stopped weighing on you not long after your mother and father’s passing. ophelia and yourself strolled comfortably through the cobblestone streets after spending a good portion of the day collecting various meats and breads from street vendors. the two of you needed to stock up on as much as possible to prepare for the cold weather that was surely on its way to styria.

styria experienced year-round melancholy weather, though you wouldn’t describe it as such. the grey sky’s and chilly winds were all you knew. you hadn’t experienced many sunny days, so the lack thereof did not take a toll on your emotional state. the same could not be said for the rare tourists that came to town, they would often experience large bouts of depressive episodes before finally deciding to leave and never come back.

you wondered how the new priest would take to the dismal climate. maybe he would be like the rare tourists and run away as fast as he could to get away from this sad little town. you shrugged the thought off, figuring that it didn’t matter much. you weren’t much on religion anyways, you only attended sunday service to keep a somewhat decent reputation.

“make haste!” ophelia yelled as she picked up her pace on the cobblestone street. your maid pointed to the dark clouds forming above the roofs, “a storm’s rolling in! we need to make it back before all this gets ruined!” she lifted the bags full of food in an upwards motion and began to run as the rain started to come down. you did your best to pull up your skirts to keep from ruining your hem, while also keeping the bags gripped tightly between your palms.

the two of you screamed when the rain began to pour, by the time you arrived back to the estate the two of you were sure to be a pitiful sight. ophelia helped you out of your wet shoes in the foyer, before removing her own and moved to the sitting room to start a fire. you let out a sigh when you saw the weather growing much more volatile outside the window.

the branches on all the trees lurched back and forth angerly in the wind, while lightning and thunder boomed across the sky. you felt wholly grateful to have made it safely indoors when you did. you moved into the sitting room when ophelia had successfully created a large crackling fire inside the hearth.

the two of you sat in silence, letting the warmth of the fire dry your damp clothes. it was important to dry yourselves in the sitting room, to not drag mud and water throughout the whole house.

you perched yourself on a chaise lounge near one of the large windows and removed your shoes. ophelia did the same, except she sat much closer to the fire, you gathered that she was on the verge of catching a chill which would explain her close proximity to the fire but you didn’t want to break the peaceful silence to ask her why she felt the need to practically dip her toes into the red hot flames. instead you turned your head back to the window to watch the erratic weather.

the calming warmth from the hearth, and the sound of rain hitting the window quickly lulled you to sleep. you weren’t sure how long you were out when you were awoken by an unpleasant noise out beyond your window. you heard what sounded like one hundred horses galloping on the road leading into town just past the trees lining your estate.

you would have thought the sound to be thunder, if the rain had not already ceased. your brows furrowed as you leaned closer to the window hoping to get a better look beyond the trees. the moon had risen during your slumber and you found it completely impossible to see beyond the greenery.

“who on earth would be traveling at this hour?” ophelia said from behind you. having not realized she was there, your shoulders jumped slightly in surprise at the sound of her voice. “and what is the hour?” you grumbled rubbing your puffy eyes.

“a quarter past midnight my lady, we best be getting you into bed now. for a proper rest.”

you nodded your head, allowing your friend to guide you by candlelight back to your bedchamber. sleep was hard to come by that night; you weren’t sure if it was due to your late evening nap or if it was the fact that your mind was plagued with wandering thoughts as to who was charging into town at such a late hour.

images of the large black horses stomping angrily through the mud carrying a gothic carriage filled your mind. you weren’t sure why the sight filled you with such terror, but also curiosity. It had to be someone wealthy, a common person could not afford to travel in such style.

could it be the new priest? you wondered. you blinked up at the canopy above your bed, no. you shook away the thought. what messenger of God would travel with such a lack of humility?

you decided it must’ve been a passerby, traveling to the capital perhaps. with your thoughts finally settled, you allowed for your mind to rest.

-

the stranger inside of the carriage found himself growing weary of the long ride. he sighed, pulling aside the velvet shades covering the window. his pupils dilated at the sight of the bright moon. it was full. many night creatures would be feeling the effects of the full moon. including himself.

he licked his lips, finally taking notice of just how insatiable his hunger truly was—-a hunger that even the finest of meals could not satisfy. the man idly rolled the black rosary through his fingers, remembering the role he would be playing in his new home. it would be much too suspicious if people began to drop dead the same night that the new practitioner of God arrives in town.

-

the days passed quickly leading up to sunday. you found yourself sitting in front of your vanity as you usually did on sundays, once again allowing ophelia to work her magic on readying you for the day. it was no easy feat on her part, you were sure. she chose to dress you in a simple white dress, conservative enough to attend the service. it covered the important things, while hugging your curves in the right places.

ophelia was busying herself with fixing the lining of your dress when the horseman arrived with the carriage your family passed down to you in tow. the ride to the church was pleasant enough. you found yourself enjoying the silence between you and your maid, and nodding when she commented on how dreary the weather was.

when entering the church the two of you exchanged pleasantries and smiles at the other townsfolk while moving to take your seats. the two of you sat in the front row of the old gothic church and waited for the service to begin.

“i’ll bet you four shillings that this priest, is an old goose just like father issac.” ophelia quipped into your ear. before you could chuckle at her heinous comment, the congregation began to rise at the entrance of the new leader of the church.

the energy in the room grew heavy with each step he took. a sea of darkness followed his tall lean frame. the man rounded the podium and swiftly cracked open his bible, not once looking up to face the crowd. it was as if he couldn’t be bothered with gazing upon the boring faces of the congregation.

you couldn’t blame him much, if you had features such as his you’d probably be just as uninterested as he. his sharp eyes eventually rose from the religious text that he was reading allowed to scan the crowd. your spine straightened anticipating his gaze.

your heart screamed for him to look your way, as a thin stand of raven hair fell across his face. your chest deflated when his eyes moved back down to the text, while pushing the strand away from his eyes. you pressed your thighs together, and determined yourself to pay close attention to the program pamphlet resting in your lap. anything to take your mind off of the man at the altar.

getou could sense your frustration, and was internally amused at how you hadn’t changed a bit—no matter how many lifetimes had passed since the last time he laid eyes on you. you were no immortal being like him. he could not blame you for not remembering him, and the love the two of you shared—but it didn’t stop the knot that formed in his cold dead chest.

the man had spent centuries searching for you, in your past life you promised him that you would meet again. getou spent the first hundred years following your untimely death by burning down and sucking the blood out of a handful of kingdoms. the next few hundred years his anger became a dull blade prodding his chest, and it allowed him to exist in society in whatever way he could to bide his time.

many years had passed. empires rose and fell, all while getou seeked to avenge your death and hoped for your reincarnation. oceans of time had passed and finally, you were all his.

________________________________

[thatphantomtroupelady]

~HIS SHADOW~

An x Unlikely x Alliance

Hanako- rescued from a travelling circus at a young age- dedicated the rest of her life to her savior and older brother, Hisoka. However, she eventually realises there are worlds beyond the one her brother rules in. Will she be able to escape his shadow by being a hunter?

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Word Count: 2k

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This year's exam-site was a large area of land, bordered by tall electric fences. Long blades of grass that reached upto her waist went on for acres, interrupted only by a tall tower in the middle of the field. It reminded her of a lighthouse, painted a faded red and white.

"Do you think he's the examiner?" Hanako stared at the short man standing atop the tower, hands on his hips.

Hisoka only hummed in response, wide eyes dancing across the examinees. Of course.

"What do you think the exam this year is going to be?" She nudged his leg with a knee, annoyed.

"Who knows~" He continued his nonchalant assessment.

"You're in a mood." She scoffed. "What? Nervous? Excited? Or... bored?"

Hisoka tilted his head up to the skies, lost in thought. "Who knows~" He repeated, smiling down on her.

"Huh?" She glared up at him. "You're only doing that because you know it pisses me off."

"Who knows~" He patted her head in a mocking show of affection, walking away. When she began to follow him, he paused. "You know you can go off somewhere without me too."

"But- you like it when I'm with you... don't you?"

"Who knows~" He shrugged, continuing his pace.

"Fine." She rolled her matching golden eyes at his retreating figure. "I can manage on my own too, you know. I don't need you." She made an effort to say the last part louder, only getting more frustrated when he refused to 'grace' her with a reaction. Narcissist.

Before she could recover from that blow to her ego, a short stout man with a poor excuse of a friendly smile began to approach. Bad timing.

"Oh hey!" He babbled. "You know that guy? He looks pretty intimidating, huh?"

Hanako crossed her arms, turning away. "Who knows."

The man blinked stupidly before regaining his composure. "Right... I forgot to introduce myself. How rude! My name is Tonpa-" After a judging pause, he proudly added, "-and this is my 33rd attempt at the hunter exam."

"Psht. Thirty-three? You're really that weak? I mean you look weak, sure but... that's a bit too much."

She could sense Tonpa's aura flaring in suppressed anger as he gave her a nervous laugh. He can use nen? But no... his aura isn't strong enough to have been trained. Maybe he doesn't even know about it himself?

"If you keep failing so much, why keep trying?" She attempted to prod.

"Well," He smiled, scratching the back of his head with one hand, "I guess I'm a bit addicted to it."

"Sure." Hanako was unconvinced.

"Hmm... I'd say we have a toast to friendship!" Without waiting for an answer, he sets his rucksack on the ground and begins to go through it, careful to hide the remaining contents from her sight.

Is his plan now to team up with someone strong to pass? She wouldn't mind playing around with him really. At first notice, he appeared quite simple and week. Yet, she could sense something brewing under the surface, a potential waiting to be unlocked. After all, finding the exam site thirty-three times and not dying in each of his thirty two attempts so far has to count for something.

"Here!" He pulled out two cans of orange juice, holding one out for her.

"Cool." She mumbled as she accepted. She was thirsty anyway. The moment she pressed her lips to the can, Tonpa's aura shook with glee. Something was wrong. She pretended to take a sip.

"Like it?" He grinned.

Hanako shrugged. After a moment, she continued. "You wanna team up?"

Tonpa's eyes widened. "Wanna what?"

She shrugged once more. "Team up. I doubt it's agains the rules or anything."

"Why would you wanna team up with me?" He was on high alert.

"Maybe I just wanna see you pass." She glanced at the examiner high atop the tower, so high in fact that she could barely discern his appearance. "Who knows~"

Tonpa gulped. "Fine." He sounded more serious now. As the two shook hands, Hanako attempted to agitate his aura. He only frowned, pulling away a bit early.

"So... what's your name?" Tonpa asked, slightly more at ease.

"Just call me by my number. I don't like giving out names unless I have to."

"Sure." Tonpa read out the tag attached to her bright orange hoodie. "Number fifty-one. It's gonna be quite a while before the others arrive, huh? How about we find a nice place to sit?"

"Uh huh." The two walked on for a bit, before Hanako decided to settle down against the tower, placing the still-full can of juice next to her. At least the grass was shorter there. As she pressed the side of her head to the wall, however, a faint rumble shook her brain. What?

Backing off, she pressed her hands to the wall instead. A series of faint rumbles. Some over the other. A lack of a pattern. Couldn't be a machine.

"Hey," She frowned at Tonpa. "What do you think could be-"

"ALRIGHT!" The sudden announcement from above rattled her. The microphone sizzled before the examiner continued, "WELCOME TO THE TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SIXTH HUNTER EXAM!" Shit. The stupid speaker was only a few feet above her. She ran a good few metres back with Tonpa at her heel before stopping to glare up at the examiner.

"I will be the examiner for your first phase, that shall begin in ten seconds. Survive to pass!" With that, he began counting down. "Ten! Nine! Eight!" Everyone took a wary fighting stance as one side of the bottom wall of the tower began shifting up to reveal metal bars. A cage? "Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three!" As the door stopped extending, the entire cage came into view. Beasts of all shapes and sized snarled inside, restless for blood. They were somewhat trained though, Hanako noticed. Despite being crammed into such a space, none of them were attacking each other. "Two! One! ZERO!"

More than half the examinees let out panicked cries, running away from the tower as the metal bars suddenly disappeared at 'zero'. Tonpa, too, was about to break into a run, before Hanako grabbed him by the collar. "As long as you stay close to me, I'll protect you, yeah?"

Trembling with fear, Tonpa nodded. The idiot was already trusting her with his life. Fine.

A big frog with wide blurry gray eyes took ridiculously high leaps towards them, Hanako's aura flared. Already, two examinees had been crushed under its weight, blood and gore stuck to its belly and feet. Suddenly, Hisoka's words before they entered the exam site echoed in her brain. "Don't show off your nen." Fair. The beast was not using any extra, so why should she?

Beside her Tonpa shuddered. "You'll take care of it, r- r- right? Because I sure as hell won't be able to."

"Of course." She took out a small but deadly sharp knife, previously hidden in her right boot. Amidst the chaos and the anxiety of the beast almost upon them, she focused. Using Gyo should be fair game. It was always useful in figuring out the weakness of the opponent. There was a complete lack of aura in his eyes. The stupidly big frog was... blind.

"Come on." She grabbed Tonpa's hand, forcing him to run along.

"Didn't you just say-" He began, panting with both mental and physical exertion.

"We don't have to fight it." She explained as they kept running towards a more emtpy area. She had stopped flinching over dead bodies a long time ago, but the amount of blood, gore and screams strewed around still kept her uneasy. The examiner was certainly a sadistic one.

Suddenly, an enlarged decapitated head of a... tiger? began rolling towards them at a great speed. The hell? It has only a single big eye where two should be and red bubbling drool oozed out of its mouth, spilling around in its trail. Where its neck should be was only a seemingly-thick layer of dark red skin. Its creepy eye was locked onto her, leaving her with no doubt that this one could in fact see. Fine then.

Leaping forward to take it head on (pun intended), she held the knife out in front of her, bringing the blade down just before she landed on its head. The beast screeched out, drool splashing in her general direction. Pulling out the knife from its eye a little too late before she jumped back, a few drops of the liquid landed on her collarbone, sizzling the skin there.

"Hisoka!" She cried out without thought as the chemical rapidly ate away at her skin and flesh. Through adrenaline blurred vision, she saw the creepy tiger head blindly rolling towards a stunned Tonpa, as she landed back on the ground. Shit. Bracing her body for a run, she- stopped.

A

 blur of motion and two cards were lodged at the side of its 'neck' ended. Before she could realise she was slipping, a strong hand was supporting her back. Hisoka. The moment her brain said his name, his smiling face came into view.

"Relax," He said softly, but she knew it was an order. "The chemical has cooled down. There's not much damage, except to your shirt, if you count that." With a dramatic sigh, he added. "When I said you shouldn't use nen, I meant your nen ability. Not things like Ten and Ren. Don't disappoint me." Abruptly, he let go and disappeared in another blur of motion.

Hanako struggled to catch her breath, wide eyes searching for Tonpa. There. He was crouched down in the grass, trembling arms over his head. The now-unmoving tiger head lay dead at his side.

Don't disappoint me. Hisoka's words played over in her head as she looked for another target. Since so many examinees were dead or fatally injured by now, there were less beasts running around and more feasting on their prey. The sight, on such a large scale, was an awful one. She had researched the trials on previous exams but had never even heard of one this brutal. How had he even been allowed to do this? She wondered as she noticed Hisoka fighting the bigger beasts around in the distance, his bloodlust in a frenzy. Of course he was enjoying the cruel atmosphere.

Watching him playing with the beasts like that, however, made her itch for a proper fight too. With a burst of Ren, she ran towards the nearest target. A big snake with a long tongue swallowing the eyes of a dead examinee. As she got closer, it shifted its focus on to her, releasing its whip-like tongue at her. Dodging its first attack, she used Gyo to find a vital point. Its belly. The snake hissed at her as she drew closer, launching another attack. This time, she slashed away its tongue, leaving it defenseless. As the snake helplessly thrashed around, she flipped it over with a strong kick and drove the blade in its underside. A fountain of blue blood spIurted out of its wound as it hissed once more and twitched for the last time.

One more. Her wild eyes scanned the field, landing on a large ostrich with an unusually long neck, head bobbling as it ran around aimlessly. She ripped the knife out of the snake, wiping the blood on the tall blades of grass around. As she positioned the knife, however, an ear-splitting whistle echoes throughout the arena, catching the attention of all beasts. In a frenzied hurry, they all began dashing back towards the tower. In a minute, they were all inside, the metal bars back on. A few more seconds and the tower door slid back down as before.

Hanako sighed. Too bad.

"All survivors! Please gather around the tower. If you're still standing without major injuries, you will be permitted to move on to the next phase. You have thirty seconds."

Tonpa. She suddenly remembered once more and returned to where she had last seen him. As the examiner's loud count down assaulted her ears, she nudged his head with a foot. "Hey! Next round. Come on!"

Slowly, he turned his head up. "It's- it's o- o- over?"

"Yeah." She looked at him more closely. "You don't seem to be in much of a condition to try the next phase. You sure you wanna continue?"

The determination returning in his eyes, he stood back up, brushing away dust from his clothes with a hand. "I'm fine."

"Good for you."

Near the end of the countdown, the pair joined the small group waiting at the foot of the tower. "...Two, One, and... Zero!" The voice boomed. "Congratulations! The fifty-three remaining applicants, out of the original 239, have passed the first phase of the hunter exam. A total of eleven applicants have lost their lives while the rest 175 are too injured mentally and/or physically to continue."

Only eleven? She hadn't expected fifty-three applicants to be able to pass either. Maybe she had overestimated the examiner's penchant for sadism. Oh well.

"The buses for taking you to the next exam site will be here in a moment. In the meantime, please wait patiently. No fights allowed."

With a sigh, Hanako walked over to sit against the tower once more. A familiar rumbling greeted her and she smiled, just then realising how drenched in blood she was.

^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^

[head-hopping]

Years, part IX

What don’t talk to me okay. Previous chapters here. LOL

Madi don’t hate me anymore~

~~

Seven months later

The spring Carlotta arrived in Paris invariably altered to summer, then slipped quietly into fall. Her residency remained at the Mackintosh homestead, tucked securely within the guest room that at some point had gained a hint of her touch, the altered bedspread certainly not enough to claim a space, but she had become comfortable enough to make at least a little mark on her world.

It had taken time to reach that point, but even she took it as a step into the right direction.

That morning, after her arrival, had been a trying one. Carlotta could do nothing but thank whatever fortune she had left that Aisling actually approached her first, the young woman looking utterly contrite and ashamed for her lack of fortitude. That, naturally, stirred something within Carlotta, her own need to offer some measure of comfort, little though it had been. Though she held affection for her two nephews, Carlotta had actually tended Aisling after her birth, during the darkest hour of Colin and Erika’s then broken relationship. For Carlotta, those months with Aisling had been the only child-rearing she ever properly performed…

But that had not been the time for such thoughts.

“Aisling…” Carlotta had said, the weight on her unfeeling heart suddenly so heavy. She had taken the young woman’s hands in her own, squeezing tightly. “The only apology necessary is my own. I have…I have been tried, and there are many matters that came together to such a result.”

Aisling’s green eyes had expressed such trouble, looking between Carlotta’s own. “What matters could have brought about such a result?”

Carlotta had only smiled, as much as she could. “Matters that are of no consequence to a vibrant young lady as yourself. Do not carry them, Aisling. Please.”

“Alright…if you say so, Aunt Lotta.”

Though even then Carlotta could tell the cryptic nature of that conversation did not please Aisling at all, but nothing more of it need be said. Carlotta absolutely refused to pass that burden to the next generation, and if she could not have been rid of it with her own child, then she could certainly ensure Colin’s children never so much as heard a word of it.

Over the following weeks, Carlotta had been coaxed into the kitchen, as Erika was quite busy with nursing her youngest back to health. Carlotta found that she had not lost her touch for enjoyable meals, and the work with her hands became a means of forcing her mind off the past. Colin certainly appreciated it, as did Aisling and Elias, when the young man was around.

When Leonce finally awoke, Carlotta was finally able to meet him in more than just a few lines in an old letter. In fact, she took it upon herself to aid Erika now that the bearish mother could relax knowing her son would live through his ordeal. Through the nights, Carlotta would sit next to Leonce’s bed, quietly reading or stitching, fetching anything the boy needed if he woke in the night.

She could not help but notice, though, that Leonce was a bit younger than Lonzo, by more than a three years or so, and yet he’d gone off to join the navy, where he had earned wounds, and thus his illness that had not been fully taken care of by some mistake or another. He was a lively young man, though, even in his tired state. That smile no doubt looked quite fetching to all manner of young ladies, especially when in his uniform, even though he had been nothing but a cabin boy—or rather, in charge of the cabin boys, he made certain his aunt knew.

Perhaps it was the general atmosphere of the household that settled Carlotta in, or the sense of being useful that she in part craved, but a spark of her own life and livelihood budded tentatively within the Mackintosh household.

And during the summer, upon hearing of Carlotta’s residency in Paris, Fiona paid a surprise visit—though Carlotta suspected that Colin and Erika knew ahead of time. But to see her cousin flourishing with Thomas, her gentle nature actually nurtured and protected by a loving husband, this Carlotta nearly did not stand. And not in a negative, jealous, petty way—or so she told herself, but the emotion had been so fleeting that she could tell herself freely that it never happened at all—but seeing Fiona having bloomed into a beautiful wife and mother, it offered Carlotta yet another comfort to know that her family has escaped the hell that seemed to curse the DiRusso line.

Speaking of motherhood, though! Behind Thomas and Fiona trailed a sea of delicately redheaded children, six in all, all having come specifically for the purpose of meeting their aunt none have ever met.

It was…a bit overwhelming, to be perfectly honest, and the first night after their arrival, Carlotta wept quietly in her room, if only because it hurt to have the depth of her own heart touched back alive again. Like a jolt, a strike of lightning, Carlotta found it difficult to breathe, but her thanks for Fiona’s wonderful life could only be expressed with tears that no one saw.

Except, somehow, Erika saw. Somehow Erika saw a lot. Perhaps because such despair was familiar to the other woman. Except for a word, a gesture, in fresh cups of tea sitting on Carlotta’s nightstand before bed, the women tiptoed around one another, yet unable to break the strain of being strangers.

Carlotta had no intentions of going back to Italy, however, so they ought to have time for warming.

One sign of such? It arrived on Carlotta’s birthday, a day that has been of no real consequence to her for some years. A day that did not bother to remind of itself, save for the occasions when Carlotta happened to notice the date. But tonight upon her birthday, she found herself swept into an evening at the opera at the Palais Garnier. A place of beauty and talent, one once guided by her own hand.

As Carlotta ascended the steps, she gazed up at the face of the grand building, the gaslight lamps vividly illuminating the golden color in the evening darkness. Memory overtook her as soon as she stepped inside, of a lifetime ago while discussing business with patrons, dodging those who thought it their duty to run the little women, or at the very least run her off and give the managerial position back to a man. Late evenings of paperwork, or contending with the self-professed phantoms who at first cajoled to have their own way within these walls. One of whom married her cousin, and the other… Well, not even Erika was certain what might have happened to him. As her life pulled further and further from the opera house, so it did from him as well. However, Erika was almost certain that he discovered his own happiness, and with a dancer of all things.

In any case, as Carlotta approached the grand staircase, lit brightly for the evening event, she came to a stop in the middle of the noisy foyer, the slip of a smile somehow finding its way onto her expression. So much in her younger years revolved around this building…so much…

Her gaze dropped, turning to Erika, who stood close beside her, watching intently for any sign of another outburst of emotion. But Carlotta merely smiled a bit wider, reaching out to gently, and briefly, touch Erika’s arm.

“I am alright,” she assured the masked woman—a mask that blended into Erika’s skin color, helping her to blend without startle, as it was simply easier to venture out in this manner.

Erika smirked, a flicker of amused relief darting through her eyes. “Wonderful. I had hoped this would do you good, not harm.”

“Knowing that Elias will be playing this evening was more than enough incentive to chance the Garnier again.” Carlotta took a deep breath, seeming more at ease than she has in a long time. Edged, yes, and guarded, but willing to step out from behind those barricades more and more. Especially for tonight. “I must admit…I held some dread for stepping foot in here once more, but I am glad I did.”

Behind the pair of them, Colin slipped up, gently, and without thinking, touching both Erika and Carlotta at their backs, though his hand lingered only on Erika’s. His brows were raised as he leaned down a bit between them. “And how are we fairing this far?”

“Delightful,” Erika intoned with cheekiness. “But there is no need for both of us to hover like hens, Colin. You will suffocate Lotta and I.”

He scoffed. “Nonsense. I only wanted the privilege of escorting the two most lovely women here to our box. Ah—three,” he amended quickly as Aisling made some manner of strangled noise, appearing at his side and bumping into him.

“Da! Don’t be rude. Go on and say three. Aunt Lotta ought to be included in this lovely bunch.” And she grinned, winking at her aunt in a devilish manner that bespoke mightily of her mother.

“Oi, stop getting me into trouble!” Colin laughed, but sighed loudly. “Ach, it’s too late for that anyway. Shall we? Before I get let out into the cold?”

Twenty years ago doubtlessly Carlotta would have had a snappish remark without a thought, but now all she could muster was a closed smile, able to share in the amusement at least. Besides which, Erika’s comment sufficed, but Carlotta’s attention diverted suddenly as a slight chill touched her. She glanced back towards the front doors, suspecting that their loitering near the doors must have caught her in line with a gust of fall breeze floating inside. And that may have been part of the case, save for the thick shawl draped over her shoulders that had been more than adequate outside, let alone inside the warmed building.

Before she turned back to her family, however, she caught sight of someone peering in her direction as he stood closer to the opening and closing doors. Carlotta would have passed the man by, but the second jolt, this one accompanied by a surge of recognition, stole her breath.

Salvatore Barozzi, hand balanced perfectly on his cane, hat in hand, stared with naked shock in his expression as other patrons were forced to move around him in order to get inside. The looks they shot he obviously did not see, or even feel.

Not that Carlotta did much better. Colin and the rest might have left her behind, as she did not hear or see whether they called her.

What sort of alignment must have occurred to have them standing here tonight of all nights, in Paris, at the Garnier?

[saetoru]

GENSHIN + MORNING SEX

「 CHARACTERS 」 ⋮ alhaitham, scaramouche, diluc + kazuha

— length ⋮ 2k words (about 500 each)

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, unprotected sex + slight exhibitionism (alhaitham), praise kink + hand jobs (scaramouche), somnophilia + fingering + edging + clit slaps + begging (diluc), unprotected sex + overstimulation + praise kink + creampie (kazuha)

— notes ⋮ this started as separate drabbles for diluc and alhaitham but they were too short to stand alone sobs. also it’s my first time writing kazuha for @dottores

❀ 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌.

“h-haitham…” you gasp, feeling alhaitham’s teeth just barely graze your nipples as he sucks at the skin, his other hand cupping your tit and rubbing a thumb along the pebbled bud. “kaveh’s just down the hall—”

“and?” he raises a brow, making you huff.

“and he’ll hear,” you hiss, pulling a scoff from him as he pulls the material of your pants down your thighs.

“then i guess you’ll just have to keep it down,” he hums, a smug grin tugging at his lips, making your core ache—and sometimes, you hate him. sometimes, you hate that just the look on his face alone is enough to convince you to cave, legs spreading as your glistening folds are exposed for him. 

he taps the fat tip of his cock against your clit, making you whimper in anticipation as he slides along your entrance, coating himself in your slick and smearing his leaking pre cum along your folds. and you try—to your credit, you really do try to stay quiet…but the burning stretch of alhaitham’s thick girth as he slides into you is enough to make you let out a weak sob. 

“f-fuck—haitham, please,” you gasp, “more, need more…so big.” 

he grins widely, letting out a low chuckle as he angles his hips and fucks into you, tip pressing against your sweet spot with enough force to make your nails dig into his shoulders as you mewl. his navel bumps against your clit, and the tight clamp of your walls around his painfully hard cock pulls a low grunt from him against your ear. 

“so tight,” he chokes, “f-fuck, you’re so good for me, yeah? a-always…always take me so well. gonna fill you up,” he rasps as your walls flutter around him and a mix of your arousal and his pre cum form a ring around the base of his cock. 

he thrusts his hips into you harshly, the squelching sound of his length drilling into you filling the quiet of the morning along with your desperate moans and his low grunts. it’s sure to catch the attention of your boyfriend’s roommate, but alhiatham can’t bring himself to care. it’s his house—and he’ll fuck you against the walls out in the open if he so chooses, he reasons. 

his eyes darken as your hand covers your mouth, trying your hardest to muffle the sounds that rip from your throat as he bullies his cock deep into your dripping cunt. 

“what, you don’t want him to hear how good i make you feel? is that the issue?” he sneers, wrapping a hand around your wrist and tugging your hand away from your mouth, making you gasp as he rolls his hips and hits a particularly sensitive spot against your walls. his thumb finds your clit, rolling harsh circles along the sensitive bundle of nerves, pulling a loud whine from you as you throw your head back and let your eyes flutter shut. “are you hearing yourself? do you hear how good i give it to you?” 

you’re too busy sobbing at the way the blunt head of his length hits your sweet spot with every roll of his hips to focus on the knocking on the door—the same knocking that makes alhaitham smirk as he quickens his pace, making sure you scream his name even louder to drown out a certain blonde as he demands peace and quiet.

❀ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄.

scaramouche has places to be as a harbinger—duties to get to and a job that keeps him rather occupied. rationally, he should be out the door by now…but your lips are a lot more enticing than carrying out his responsibilities. he tells himself he’ll pull away after just one more second, after just one more extra moment feeling you against him.

but then you start rubbing against him like that, and the bulge in his pants forming can’t be helped. it’s your fault—it’s your fault he’s late…but somehow, he doesn’t really seem like he minds. 

“if you have to go, then go,” you tease, pulling a growl from him as he glares at you. the hard-on between his legs is aching—throbbing to sink into your wet cunt and feel the tight hug of your walls. he shoots you a warning glance, making you giggle as you reach under his waistband and free his hardened cock. it’s heavy in your hands, red and flushed at the tip and weeping with beads of pre cum that have you hungry for the taste of him on your tongue. 

you stroke him languidly a few times, smearing his arousal around the sensitive skin, squeezing around his tip and pulling a weak groan from his throat. 

“d-don’t even think about teasing,” he glowers, making you chuckle before you press gentle kisses along his cheek, pressing your lips over his closed eyes until they travel to the tip of his nose. he gasps, biting his lips and whining as your hand brushes away stray strands of hair from his forehead and cups his cheek. 

“so pretty, kuni,” you murmur, “you look so pretty like this, you know. love you,” you breathe against his lips, pressing a soft peck against his mouth as he moans into yours. 

your thumb grazes his slit, teasing the tip of his cock, making his hips buck into your fist as he chases the friction. your other hand moves to cup his balls, squeezing and fondling them as your palm drags up and down his length quickly. his breathing is erratic now, harsh and labored as breathy whines fill the room with every second he approaches his orgasm. 

“i—’m gonna cum,” he rasps, “f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum…don’t stop,” he tries to demand, but the tone in his voice is bordering on a plead, almost as desperate as the way his hips fuck up into your hand to chase his release. 

you press lingering kisses along his jaw and cheeks, whispering hushed praises and gentle promises that you won’t stop—not until he’s cum for you and painted your hand white with his release. 

“s’ok, kuni,” you murmur, “just cum for me, okay? c’mon, baby.” 

with a choked gasp, he falls over the edge, thick ropes of cum shooting from his tip and coating your hand as you work him through his orgasm, taking in the sight of his parted mouth and closed eyes, taking in the blissed-out expression as he breaks under your touch. 

and scaramouche has things to do and places to be—but he can’t bring himself to leave the comforts of your arms as you wrap them around him gently. 

❀ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂.

diluc wakes up earlier than you every morning—it’s the norm. but sometimes, on days he comes home particularly late and roughed up, on days that are rare and far in between, you wake up to the sight of him still in bed, nestled under the sheets with crimson streaks that paint the pillowcase. 

it’s hard to resist him, and even harder to ignore the slight bulge of his morning wood that already taunts you. you argue it couldn’t hurt—and how could it when he sounds so pretty as he groans in his sleep with just a simple touch? your hand tucks under his boxers to expose his hardened cock from its confinements, slowly stroking it and smearing the leaking pre cum around his thick girth. 

it’s not long until his eyes blink open, peering up at you confused as he sucks in a harsh breath and moans at the way you squeeze around his swollen tip.

“f-fuck—what’s gotten into you—”

“luc,” you whine, “need you so bad,” you grab his hand, bringing it to feel the dampness forming between your legs, making his breath hitch.

and every plan he has for the morning flies out the window—diluc is a busy man with a busy schedule, but he’s never too busy for you. he doesn’t waste too much time rolling over you and pinning your hands over your head, leaning to kiss gently along your neck as his fingers sink into your dripping cunt. he’s purposefully slow—takes his time sinking his digits in and curling them against your sweet spot, rolling his palm over your clit with a ghost of a touch that has you whimpering. 

“i suppose i’ll just have to give you a lesson on being patient, won’t i?” he mumbles, bullying his fingers in and out of you painfully slow, pulling a needy whimper from your lips.

“faster,” you plead, “please, i wanna cum, luc. go faster, ‘s not enough—”

“be patient,” he growls, pulling his fingers out to land a warning slap against your clit, making you writhe against the sheets as you sob. the ache between your legs is painful—you want to feel the burning stretch of his thick cock, the familiar friction of his veins dragging along your walls as he splits you open. but he has other plans—plans that consist of teaching you a lesson for waking him up so selfishly…even if he can’t really say he minds it.

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, tears gathering at your lash line, “jus’ needed to feel you, ‘s all,” you pout, and he leans to press a soft kiss to your jaw, thumb teasing your clit as your walls clench painfully around nothing.

“i know,” he hums, “but i still have to teach you about being patient, love.”

❀ 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀.

kazuha is a little bit greedy—just a little selfish when it comes to you and the way you feel under his body. he wakes up to you nestled against his side, pressed against him firmly and close enough that he can almost hear the pounding of your heart. you fit against him so well, and your hips curve into his hands a little too perfectly—who is he not to appreciate the feeling of you molding against his touch?

it’s not long until he has you pinned underneath him, his breath hot against your neck as he pants into your skin, hips sloppy and out of rhythm as he ruts into you desperately. he’s lost count of how many times he’s fucked you full of his load—of how many times you’ve cum around his cock as he pulls you into orgasm after orgasm. 

“k-kazu—”

“shh,” he coos, pressing sweet kisses to the tears on your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours as his fingers lace to connect your hands. he’s sweet—so sweet even as he utterly destroys you, the pleasure mingling with pain as you sob from the sensitivity. “just one more, love. i promise one more is all i want.”

it’s a lie—it’s what he said the last time, and the time after that, you think. the sun’s rays pour through the curtains, kissing your overheated skin and glistening the surface with sweat as he drills his spent cock into your dripping cunt. 

“c-can’t,” you protest weakly, wobbly lips and teary eyes peering up at him, pulling at his heartstrings with how perfect you look. “‘s too much—’m gonna…gonna break,” you gasp.

“now, let’s not be dramatic,” he chuckles, nipping at the skin along your jaw, sucking gently before kissing the marks he paints along every inch of you he can reach. “you want to be good, don’t you? wouldn’t you…ngh—” he cuts himself off with a weak groan as you squeeze around him, letting out a shaky breath, “—w-wouldn’t you want to be good for me?”

and you ponder his words so carefully before nodding, making him stare at you affectionately as you hiccup through cries and latch onto him tightly. you pull him into a needy kiss, whining against his mouth and letting him swallow your moans as he slams the blunt head of his cock against your sweet spot, curving into you and dragging his thick veins along your tight walls. 

it’s too much—but somehow, you can’t help but ache to give him more. 

“yes, ‘m good,” you nod, “wanna be good.”

“so perfect,” he breathes, and with another press of his mouth to yours, you come undone, mewling as your walls spasm around him and pull a low grunt from his lips, making his hips falter before he’s whining and spilling yet another load into your abused cunt. “love you—love you so much…so perfect.”

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[carlplsrailme]

𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

summary: carl and y/n hate each other, and Carl finally has enough and decides to fuck the attitude out of her

carl grimes x fem!reader

cw: mirror fucking, heavy degradation, manhandling, hate fucking, no pet names except for 'baby'

word count: 2k

request: do you take requests? if so could you write a oneshot where the reader and carl ‘hate’ eachother and they’re forced to go on a run together by rick but then they argue the whole way there and when they get inside the house or whatever he’s sick of her attitude so he fucks her infront of a mirror and degrades the fuck out of her lol with lines like ‘look at you falling apart for me’

you stretch your jaw as the trees whip past the window, lips puckered together as you refuse to speak to your...company

"you can't ignore me forever," he says with an audible scoff, you can feel from here how his eyes rolled back in his head.

Rick made you guys go on a run together, nothing serious, just to check a convenience store's pharmacy for any leftover meds, except there are two problems.

1: Rick already knows it's a lost cause checking for meds in the most obvious of places, it'll be empty, we already know that.

and 2: You're driver had to be that jackass himself, Carl

So why does this jackass need to annoy you this entire drive? he hates you, the least he can do is shut up for himself

you sink deeper in the leather seats as you rub your lips together to keep them silent, already wishing you were back in Alexandra instead of this useless run

"Fine. don't talk, I'm just trying to make sure we come home with meds" he huffs and turns back to the jagged road, chest staggered and jaw twitching with anger

"Oh come'on, you don't actually think there's gonna be meds, right?" you almost laugh as you sit up to turn to the one-eyed boy

"This is your daddy's way of us getting along." you hiss. 'matter of factly' voice stretching through your tone 

"Don't think you're so special, he wouldn't waste gas for us to start talking" he bit the corner of his lip as his grip on the wheel turned white as he tried for you not to get to him

"You've been such a fucking prick since you got here. head too big that your daddy's the main man and now you think you own the fucking place" you yell, waving your arms around as he shooks his head to struggle a laugh

"You were the one that I tried to get along with but YOU were too full of yourself to say hi, YOU scoffed and walked away the moment I approached you" You continue. raising your voice a little too loud as you make your point

"maybe if you were such a fucking brat I would be at home right now." you cross your arms and stare back at the window.

"maybe if you could read situations better I'd be at home too." he whispered. you squinted your eyes while your brows furrowed down about to turn to carl for him to elaborate but the slam of the car stopping caught your attention first

"Were here"

"Told you. absolute bullshit." you huff while you lean on the counter, Carl paces back and forth down the aisle trying to find anything to show they did something

"He wouldn't have us risk our lives for some field trip of being friends." He says, back turned to you as he picks up random things, blowing off the dust as he reads the packaging before placing it back down

"Honestly, with how shits turning out right now I wouldn't cross it off as a possibility" you sang as you messed around with a pen, laying your back on the counter as you waited for Carl to be done 

"Fuck, can you try to do some shit instead of just laying there" He spat, resting one arm on the cold empty shelves as he looks at you

"Fine, dammit" you shouted, grabbing your knife and hopping off the counter, you jogged over to one of the rooms in the back, not thinking twice before swinging the door open as a walker leaned into you

"Fuck!" you said as adrenaline rushed through your veins, his grimy teeth trying to nip at your arm before your blade met his demise...well, his second demise

the walker splatted on the floor as you turn to a very shocked carl who already had his gun pointed up

"See that? the dumb shit that your dad is putting us through? He nearly nipped my arm and that's on you" you huffed, he opened his mouth to respond but you walked passed him

"I'll be in the car."

"I said I'm sorry!" his voice rang as you stomped up his steps, ready to give Rick one hell of a speech

"doesnt.fucking.matter" you said sternly, he was trailing right behind you yet you still slammed the door on him, making him even more pissed

"where the hell is that cop?" you yelled, running upstairs as Carl grabbed your arm, you tugged it off you as you started walking to one of the rooms upstairs

"just- fuck- can you listen to me?" he shouted but you twisted one of the doorknobs and stumbled into a boyish room you can only assume belongs to carl

Carl followed with you, right as you entered the room he closed the door to keep you put, closing his eyes to try and collect the very little patience he had left

"move. asshole" and then you took it

"FUCK! do you ever just shut the fuck up?!" he yelled, anger getting the best of him as you stood with widened eyes, never having Carl yell at you like this

He walked closer to you, noses almost touching as his jaw clenched in anger

"It's all I ever hear! just you whining and complaining! I'm so fucking sick of it" 

you stare at him with nothing to say, completely stunned at his sudden demeanor, he relaxed his shoulders with a slight sigh

with a sudden swoop he grabbed your jaw, lips attacking yours as he made out with you

"see? so much fucking better" he hissed, teeth clanking together in another kiss as he picked you up by your thighs, slamming you into the wall, you gasped and he took that chance to slide his tongue into your annoyingly sweet mouth

your tongues lapped together as you felt something shift in him, his cock throbbing in his jeans as they rubbed up to your ever begging cunt

he groaned on your lips, taking them away for a breather as his fingers tugged on your chin to look up at him

"fuck, I don't hate you" he got interrupted by himself closing his eye as his dick asked for attention

"I never have, I didn't 'scoff and walk away' I mumbled an 'excuse me' and stubbled off because I didn't know how to talk to you" He says with a slight chuckle, your eyes were glued on his as you felt guilt build up in you

"then..." he sang, a cocky smile on his lips as you already know what he's gonna say

"you started being a fucking brat" he threw your head to the side as he let go of your chin, kissing your lips again as his hand neared your clothed pussy

he slowly rubbed you through your jeans, fluttering at the sensation but you needed more

"don't fucking tease" "don't fucking speak." he raised his voice, you zipped up immediately in shock, but you couldn't help the way his tone had your back slightly arching off the wall

he kissed you again, fingers wrapping around your zipper and unbuttoning your jeans before your panties were in view 

he had you stand on your own for a second as he brought them down, hooking his fingers on your panties before pulling them down, an embarrassing amount of slick piled up on them as he looked up to you with an innocently confused stare -and an out of place smirk strained on his lips

he quickly pocketed the panties as he had his jeans hung low on his hips, enough for his boxers to be pulled down, and his cock to be revealed

your eyes were stuck on it, pretty red tip leaking with pre and angry veins traveling up his cock, it stood proud as he tapped your thighs for them to hop up on him again

your legs wrapped around his hips as he lined himself up with you, twitching in anticipation and a slight whine coming from your voice

"just wait, don't be annoying" he watched as you clenched and unclenched around nothing at his tone

he slowly entered his tip in, a groan vibrating from his chest as fucked himself deeper in your needy pussy

"Carl" you couldn't help but moan, he was stretching you out so so good, cock bullying his way in and you loved every second of it

when he was fully in, he waited -for you to adjust at first...then, just to play with you

you whined his name again but this time in frustration, rolling your hips back and forth on him as his head tilted up, moaning your name as he went back down to kiss you

"that's it baby, work yourself up f'me" he slurred, his eyes catching the full body mirror right next to you guys as a smirk found its way on his lips

he grabbed you by the chin and turn to look at yourself in the mirror

you almost didn't recognize yourself, hair disheveled as your pupils blown wide with being laced over in tears of frustration, your drooling cunt was desperately trying to give the friction you knew only Carl could give you at this point

"look at you falling apart for me" he says with a taunting smile, you begged for him to move, he rolled his eyes and gave you one sharp thrust just to shut you up

"fuck!" you whimpered at the thrust, clenching yourself tighter around him to give an unspoken message to please do it again

"fuck, don't fucking do that-" he groaned,  your pussy sucked him in deeper, whining for more and he was gonna give it to you

he gave another sharp thrust as you cried out for him, he picked up the pace as he started to ram in your tight little hole, 

"fuck- do you know how- how long I've wanted this?" he said in staggered breathes, you felt tears run down your cheeks as his cock hit your cervix 

"-wanted to see you turning into a mess for me? just look at yourself baby" he turned your head so you can watch as he fucked himself into you, his cock stretching you out so perfectly as he hit deep in you

"C-Carl please-"

"Don't try and beg now. You were being annoying and now you have to fucking pay for that shit. I've dealt with you all.fucking.day" he matched up his words with thrusts, you yelped on his cock 

your fingernails dug deep in his shoulders as you screamed his name, your legs squeezed him impossibly closer as you cried harder his cock

"'m gonna c-cum" you moaned, his dick ruthless as he somehow fucked you harder, filling you to the brim before pulling back to his tip and ramming back inside

"fuck- cum for me baby, cream on his fucking dick for me" he said as his feral thursts quicked, 

"p-please don't stop" you said head empty, pretty pussy tightening around him, he grabbed your head and forced your to watch yourself as you came all over him, you whimpered in embarrassment but couldn't help the way your pussy twitched at the sight

"that's it baby, let it all out on me" he growled, you laid limp in his arms as fucked up into you, just like a little pretty doll for him to fuck, his own personal fuck doll he railed the attitude out of

"fuck! m'cumming" he hissed, cum shooting deep in your womb as he laid a few more thrusts out, he pulled himself out as he watched cum spill out of your hole, and he place his thumb to keep it in before a devilish smirk found him 

"see baby?" he let go of your shaking legs for them to slide on the floor, tumbling into his chest as he tilted your head up once more, kissing your lips to whisper against them,

"it's not that hard to just...shut the fuck up"

an: ahhh my first request! I hope you enjoyed it anon <3 I had lots of fun writing this! don't be scared to message me any request I'll be happy to write something up for you guys hehe ♡ mwah! bye guys!

[lovebykai]

Commissioned By @fic-dumpster

Type: Full Length [ 2K to 4K ]

Word Count: 2.2K

Pairing: Imaushi Wakasa x Single Mom!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW. Breeding Kink.

Authors Note: I made the format cute and different because I failed at the Kokonoi assignment. 🙏🏻 Forgive me. This is all fluff because... I just needed some self indulgent fluff and you gave me so much wiggle room. 😂💕 MDNI.

Imaushi thinks you're funny.

At least that's what Shinichiro used to tell you before he passed. Without the eldest Sano your friend group seemed to splinter and crack; a few days or not answering the group chat became a few months and then was only the occasional "Happy Holidays!" each year. It's something that bothers you every time you think about it because you miss the way things were between the five of you.

But especially you and Imaushi.

Life went on, though. You grew up, got married, had a kid— then divorced and moved back home. Boy, was that something.

"Senju?" You smirked at the girl you could remember seeing in diapers, bouncing your own little one on your hip. She was beaming; having stumbled across one another at the mall of all things seemed a little to convenient to be a coincidence.

"Y/N!" The young boy trailing behind her was giving you a wide-eyed stare that was a bit uncomfortable, but you decided to just ignore it for the time being.

"Look at you! How's life been treating you?" You weren't completely ignorant to the way things worked around here now, but it was still funny to you that Brahman was run by a kid you could remember being afraid of centipedes.

"It's been great!" And you believe her, because Takeomi had helped you secure your apartment and rambled about how successful things had been for them as you put together your bedframe.

It's good to see her; when you wave her off later and her little friend — Takemichi, you think — is still staring like you're some kind of apparition you give him a smile that has a little too much bite.

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

"Wakumi." The toddler is giving you a very decisive side eye, holding her popsicle with all the care an almost two year old can manage.

"You can't—" She promptly sticks it in her mouth, completely uncaring about fact she'd just dropped it on the dirty ground. It makes your teeth ache; you swipe a hand down your face and pray for patience.

"Right. Okay." Wakumi giggles as you rise from your crouched position and take her hand to tug her along. Usually you would carry her because she's not quite quick enough to keep up, but today she had thrown a fit to walk; you'd swallowed down your frustration and agreed to simply move at a snails pace with her.

"Mama—!" She's pointing with her other hand, popsicle balanced between her teeth so she can garble around it. The rest of her sentence goes over your head between the nonsensical sounds and her frozen treat, but you follow her little finger and catch yourself grinning.

"His hair is pretty, huh?" Of course she spotted Imaushi. The man's hair is colored brightly enough that her little eyes are wide; she's completely hypnotized. It's unsurprising— you are too, after all, just for different reasons.

Arashi spots you first, nudging his friend as the two of you approach. You don't acknowledge the way his violet eyes still give you goosebumps. Wakumi hasn't stopped staring and it makes you bite back giggles when both men take note of her.

"Go on, 'Umi."

"Pretty hair!" Is what she manages to blurt out and Arashi barks out a laugh with you when Imaushi squats across from her with a lazy smile.

"Thank you, little princess."

At that exact moment, your brain short circuits.

Oh. Oh man. Your daughter lights up and you feel your own cheeks heating as she shyly tries to tuck herself behind your leg. Typically you would try to correct her misuse of a "thank you" but your brain was too busy trying to reboot. Now you're staring; when he glances up and notices, the grin he'd been wearing only grows.

"Hey, Y/N." You let out a hum that makes Arashi snort and abruptly you're assaulted by the reminder that your entire friend group knew about your giant crush on Imaushi Wakasa. Even the man himself.

A crush you'd thought you'd outgrown over the years, but when faced with his familiar features you realize you had definitely not.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" Wakumi is clinging to your leg as she sucks on her popsicle, intelligent eyes flickering between you and the two men curiously.

"Just running some errands for Takeomi." It's pointedly vague and you nod a bit, reaching down to untangle your daughter's fingers from your dress and hold her hand.

"You should come by sometime. We can catch up." When they nod, Wakumi once again starts babbling; her tiny hand gesturing at the window of one of the stores. Occasionally she says something that makes sense, and it makes you grin proudly, turning to give her your full attention as Arashi answers a call.

Imaushi laughs.

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

"Fuck, Y/N." You mewl softly as Imaushi kneads the flesh of your thighs, leaning in to kiss you softly while you squirm on his lap.

Wakumi is asleep.

Tucked away nice and safe in her bed as the bottle of wine finally slipped passed your defenses. The rest of your friends had all headed out an hour earlier and you'd been a bit too excited about the man underneath you staying.

The movie you'd put on was long forgotten when he started tracing patterns along your arms; it didn't take you long to cave and scramble into his embrace. His lashes are pretty against his cheeks as you pull away from the kiss, hands cupping his face.

"Careful, or I'll be giving you another baby." It's a joke— except your thighs flex under his palms in a pitiful attempt to snap together and his lazy eyes sharpen on yours.

"Oh? Like that idea, hm?" He's rasping it against your mouth, shifting to grind his erection into your slick core. There are too many clothes between you, you decide, hands instinctively running down him in the hopes of removing a few layers—

"Mama!" Imaushi chuckles at the soft whimper you let out, gently nudging you into motion when your lips form a pout.

"Go on, I'll wait." Your heart flutters as you wriggle off his lap and stumble to your daughters room; you decide right then you must be in love.

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

"I'm glad you're okay." Because even though now you're all grown up and toting a toddler around, you remember being in a gang. The dangers only get worse and worse the older you get; the fact all your childhood friends are still alive and kicking is a testament to their badassery.

"Just a few bumps and bruises." Comes down the line as you pinch the phone between your ear and shoulder, stirring the pot in front of you as Wakumi squeals to be picked up.

"Baby— ah, shit— shoot!" You correct quickly when her socks send her to the floor, letting out a small sigh when she screeches in response. Hefting her up into your arms, you put the burner on low and carry her to the living room.

"Catastrophe happen?" Imaushi is amused, and you roll your eyes over her head when Wakumis dramatics stall in an attempt to listen in.

"Her socks teamed up with the tile floor to beat her up." She's crying again and you put him on speaker, setting the phone on the arm of the couch so you can wrap her up in your arms.

"Oh no, little princess!" You bite back a snicker when she perks up, dramatic sobs quieting to small whimpers so that she can hear him clearly.

"Did those mean ol' socks hurt your feelings?" She garbled out a "yes!" enthusiastically that you're not even sure he understood— but he carries on anyway and you try to wipe the grin off your face.

"Do I need to beat them up?"

"Yes!" Then she's wriggling around to head for the phone, grinning when she snatches it off off couch to yell down at it. Imaushis laughter echoes around your living room and you smile. It's... nice. Comforting.

"Alright, tell your mama to open the door, then." Now you're scrambling, eyes wide when there's a teasing knock at the door.

Wakumi squeals when you yank it open, shoving by you to latch onto Imaushis leg with eager laughter.

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

"She loves you." Your murmuring to him as the two of you watch Wakumi toddle around her bedroom. She's setting up the tea party that she'd forced Imaushi to agree to through a series of well placed tears and giggles.

"I love her too." It felt like he was saying more than that when his eyes flickered up to meet yours, a small grin tilting the corners of his lips around the sucker that had taken residence in his mouth.

"... her dad hasn't called since we got here. I think she's, uh, projecting a bit." His smile fades, eyes moving across your features before returning to Wakumi.

"He's a peice of shit." The drawl seems unbothered, but you knew better when his normally droopy eyes focused in on her once more. She's putting on a crown — it's lopsided, but when you offer to help she gives you the stink eye — and then turns smugly to Imaushi.

"Princess." The word makes his eyes widen briefly before he chuckles and lurches forward, lifting her into the air as she squeals. He presses a kiss to her temple before she insists on being put back down and hustles him to the little table where shes set up her plastic tea set.

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

"Daddy!" You and Imaushi freeze, turning to the distraught child who has loudly declared that he is her dad. She's sprinting as fast as her little legs will carry her, stumbling enough you catch yourself half jumping up to aid her before sitting back on the bench.

Nevermind the fact her actual dad has finally graced the two of you by agreeing to meet up at the local park, almost a year after you left him. He's just watching this scene unfold with narrowed eyes. He's visibly angry, red crawling up his neck and face, when she limps her way into Imaushis arms, tears trailing down chubby cheeks.

"Oh no!" Wakumi howls, sobbing.

It takes a second to calm her down enough to realize shes not hurt— she's just upset that her stocking ripped, and you're still scrambling for a way to explain that Imaushi isn't her dad when your ex storms over.

"Seriously, Y/N?" Wakumi is still settled on her pseudo-father figures lap when he addresses you, and you're preparing for the impending argument—

"Shut up and move on. If she's forgotten you, it's your own fault for never showing interest. You don't get to come and go as you like and expect there not to be consequences." It's really not his place to intervene, but you don't say anything.

Because when you turn and watch him brush his fingers through her little curls, narrowed eyes softening when he looks down at her, you realize that maybe it should be. Your ex opens and closes his mouth a few times before Wakumi remembers that he's supposed to be playing with her and turns to garner his attention again.

It's the last time the two of you see him.

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

"Wakasa—" His hand covers your mouth, a smirk curling his lips as your legs tighten around his waist. Shushing you sweetly, he basks in the way you whimper and writhe under his attention.

"Wanna— fuck— give you another baby. Make me a daddy again—" He groans when your pussy flutters around him; the delicious drag against your walls has you teary eyed. The whispers go on, dropped directly into your ear as he pistons into your core.

Your panting behind his palm, trying your damnedest to stay quiet. Wakumi is in her room down the hall but she's ended up in your bed the past few nights; it feels like a race against the clock as your orgasm teases your senses.

"C'mon, angel, cum for me. One more time. Let me feel you." Imaushis crooning finally throws you over the edge, and you choke back a sob as he follows after you. He droops over you, being careful not to crush you, and the two of you take a moment to just... be.

For two seconds, anyway.

"Mama? Daddy?" Imaushi chuckles when your daughter knocks at the door; rolling off of you to tug his sweats on and you scramble for your own pajamas just before he opens the door.

It's only been a few weeks since he moved in; almost two years since the two of them met, but—

He lifts her into his arms while she rubs her little eyes, letting her droop against his shoulder as you pull the covers back for them to join you. Imaushi leans back, letting her starfish across his torso and tugging the blankets up around the two of them. You lean over to kiss the back of her head, then him, before settling down with a smile.

Imaushi is a good daddy; you wonder when you should tell him he's got another one on the way.