#AND MAYBE ILL GET TOO IMPATIENT WHO KNOWS

[rexscanonwife]

GUESS WHO'S FUCKING!! WORKING ON ANOTHER ANIMATIC!!!

AND COOKING HARDER THAN EVER!!!!

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[justablah56]

lmao. guys. what if I decided I don't like having an art blog and just deleted it and reposted the art back over here. like I did years ago the last time I tried this.

[fiastomatocheek]

SNOOPY'S SICK DAY

pair: dad!luke hughes x f!reader

genre: fluff, family, romance.

warnings: none, just pure fluff and heartwarming family moments. brief mentions of illness (cold and fever) but kept light and non-serious.

summary: after a long road trip, luke comes home feeling feverish and worn out, just in time for sunday morning. but he’s not the only one who notices. his four-year-old daughter lucy, sharp-eyed, soft-hearted, and hopelessly in love with her dad, springs into action. from porridge prep to doctor pretend-play and sleepy cuddles, lucy decides she’ll be the best nurse ever to her ‘snoopy’.

fia’s notes: not to be dramatic or anything but… i’m fully obsessed with my own story like, truly, i can’t get over how soft and adorable dad!luke is especially with baby lucy and all these peanuts (yes, snoopy & the gang!) inspired moments sprinkled in. something about luke being this gentle, goofy, patient dad just feels so right, and the way he dotes on little luce? my heart cannot handle it. this story is such a comfort fic for me, and writing it genuinely brought me so much joy. i hope reading it brings you the same kind of cozy, happy feeling like a warm blanket and your favorite cartoon on a lazy sunday. i hope you love it as much as i do!

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs @alwaysclassyeagle @nokiaholland @macka

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | fic discussion | fia's nav.

“Mommy, is Snoopy home yet? Like, really home-home?”

Lucy’s voice bounces through the living room, already impatient, as she kneels on the couch, clutching her stuffed pig, Pinkie, and peering out the window. Her curls are a mess now, half-falling out of the ponytail she doing herself.

You glance at your phone, checking Luke’s flight status.

“Any minute now, Luce. His plane just landed, so he’s on his way from the airport.”

She presses her nose to the glass, breath fogging it up.

“I made him a picture! It’s got a hockey stick and a heart. So he knows we missed him.”

You smile, stirring a pot of beef broth porridge on the stove.

“He’s gonna love it so so much, Luce. Maybe we’ll stick it on the fridge so Snoopy sees it every day.”

Lucy giggles at the nickname, her favorite way to call Luke.

“Snoopy’s gonna be so happy! I missed Snoopy so much.”

She stretches her arms wide, nearly toppling Pinkie off the couch.

You’re about to reply when the front door creaks open, and Luke’s hoarse voice calls out,

“I’m home.” It’s softer than usual, like he’s dragging the words through gravel.

Lucy squeals, scrambling off the couch, but you beat her to the door, heart squeezing at the sight of him. Luke looks like he’s been through a blender looking so pale, sweat-damp curls plastered to his forehead, dark circles under his eyes. His duffel hangs heavy on his shoulder, and his hoodie’s wrinkled like he slept in it.

“Hey, you,” you say, wrapping your arms around him.

He’s warm, little too warm. You pull back, pressing a hand to his cheek.

“Babe, you’re burning up.”

“Feel like garbage,” he admits, voice scratchy.

“Started on the plane. Headache, sore throat. Thought it was just the dry air, but…” He shrugs, wincing slightly.

“Go shower,” you say gently, taking his duffel.

“I’m warming up some porridge. Something light so your stomach doesn’t hate you.”

Luke’s eyes flicker to the living room, where Lucy’s hovering, clutching Pinkie and watching him with big, curious eyes.

“Hey, Luce,” he says, mustering a tired smile.

“Snoopy!” She runs to him, but instead of her usual tackle-hug, she stops short, tilting her head.

“You sound funny. Like… a frog.”

Luke chuckles, weak but warm, dropping to one knee.

“Just a little croaky, baby. Still your Snoopy.”

He kisses her forehead, and she leans into it, but her brow furrows, like she’s piecing something together.

You catch the worry in her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she hugs Pinkie tighter and says,

“I made you a picture. It’s on the table.”

“Can’t wait to see it,” Luke says, ruffling her curls before standing with a groan.

“Gonna clean up, then I’ll check it out.”

As he trudges upstairs, you scoop porridge into a bowl to cool and guide Lucy to her play space.

“Time to get ready for bed, baby. Daddy’s tired from his trip.”

She nods, but as you tuck her into bed later, her little voice pipes up, clutching the edge of her star-patterned blanket.

“Mommy, is Snoopy okay? He looks… not happy.”

Your heart softens. She’s only four, but she’s already picking up on things most kids her age might miss.

“He’s just a bit tired,” you say, brushing a curl off her face. “And he’s got a little cough. Nothing big. He’ll be all better soon.”

She nods, eyes heavy. “Okay. I’ll help him tomorrow.”

You kiss her forehead, smiling.

“You’re the best helper, you know that?”

When you slip back to your bedroom, Luke’s already out cold, still in his sweatpants shirtless. The porridge bowl sits untouched on the nightstand. You pull the comforter over him, deciding not to wake him. He needs the rest more than anything.

Next day, sunday morning, you’re stirred awake by the patter of tiny feet and a whispered,

“Mommy! Can we make breakfast for Snoopy?”

Lucy’s standing by your bed, her eyes are bright, but there’s a determined set to her mouth, like she’s on a mission.

“Morning, Luce,” you say, stretching.

“Of course baby, let’s make something. But we gotta be quiet okay, Snoopy’s still sleeping.”

She nods solemnly, whispering, “I’ll be super quiet. Like a ninja.”

You stifle a laugh, scooping her up and heading to the kitchen. Lucy insists on helping, dragging her step stool to the counter and pulling on her ‘Chef Luce’ apron, purple glitter sparkling. You decide to reheat last night’s porridge, light enough for Luke’s stomach and a favorite of Lucy’s anyway.

“Mommy can I stir?” she asks, gripping a wooden spoon like it’s a hockey stick.

“Go for it,” you say, guiding her hand.

“Just like Daddy taught you, slow and steady.”

She concentrates, tongue poking out, as she stirs the pot.

“This is for Snoopy. It’s gotta be perfect.”

You smile, chopping a few scallions to sprinkle on top.

“You’re doing great, Chef Luce. He’s gonna love it.”

As you set the table, you hear a faint cough from upstairs, followed by Luke’s groggy voice calling your name. You glance at the clock, it’s 8:15 a.m. Earlier than you expected, given he was up at 4 a.m., burning with a fever and barely able to talk. You’d given him medicine then, and he’d crashed again almost instantly.

“Luce, stay here and watch the porridge,”

You say, handing her a glass of milk and a few Cheerios to munch on.

“I’m gonna check on Daddy.”

You find Luke sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. His hair’s a mess, and his voice is still rough.

“Hey,” he croaks.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask, pressing a hand to his forehead. Still warm, but not as bad as last night.

“Like I got hit by a Zamboni,” he mutters, but he manages a small smile.

“Medicine helped, though. Think I can make it downstairs.”

“Take it slow,” you say, handing him a fresh hoodie.

“Luce is waiting to have breakfast with you. She’s been talking about her ‘Snoopy’ all morning.”

His face lights up, the way it always does when Lucy’s involved.

“Missed her so much. Let’s go.”

By the time you both reach the kitchen, Lucy’s practically vibrating with excitement, standing on her step stool and waving her spoon.

“Snoopy! You’re awake!”

Luke drops to his knees, opening his arms.

“Morning, baby girl.”

She launches herself at him, and he catches her, wincing slightly but holding her close.

“Missed you, Luce.”

“Snoopy, you sound like a grumpy bear,” she says, pulling back to study her Daddy’s face. Her little brows knit together.

“Are you okay, Snoopy?”

Luke strokes her hair, his smile soft despite the rasp in his voice.

“I’m fine, Luce. Just a little cold. Thanks for asking, though. You’re the best.”

She beams, grabbing his hand and tugging him to the table.

“We made porridge! Me and Mommy. It’s your favorite.”

You serve up the bowls, and the three of you settle around the table, Lucy insisting on sitting right next to Luke. She watches him take his first spoonful, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Is it good?”

“Perfect,” Luke says, winking at her.

“Best chef in the world.”

She giggles, digging into her own bowl, and you catch Luke’s eye across the table. He mouths a silent ‘thank you,’ and you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest. Even sick, he’s the sweetest dad.

After breakfast, Luke insists he’s well enough to hang out with Lucy, so they head upstairs to her room. You follow, curious, and lean against the doorframe as they settle on the floor, surrounded by her stuffed animals and a pile of crayons. Lucy’s telling him about kindergarten, her words tumbling out in that earnest, four-year-old way.

“And then, Miss Jenny said I drew the best rocket ship, Snoopy! It had flames and everything!”

Luke’s lying on his back, one arm behind his head, listening like she’s recounting a Stanley Cup final.

“Flames, huh? You gotta show me that rocket.”

She nods, grabbing a piece of paper to start a new drawing. Then, out of nowhere, she climbs onto his stomach, sitting like it’s her personal throne. Luke grunts but doesn’t move, just rests a hand on her back to keep her steady.

“Snoopy,” she says, her voice suddenly small.

She leans down, wrapping her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed to his chest.

“I want you to get better soon. I miss skating with you. And I’m worried ‘bout you.”

Luke’s eyes soften, and he hugs her gently, careful not to squeeze too hard.

“I’m gonna be fine, Luce. Just need a couple days, then we’ll be back on the ice, okay? You and me, doing spins.”

She nods against him, her voice muffled.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he says, kissing her hair.

“And I missed you too. Everyday on that road trip, I was thinking about my favorite girl.”

You bite your lip, trying not to tear up. Lucy’s always been perceptive, but hearing her worry so openly tugs at your heart. When they come downstairs later, Luke finds you in the kitchen, washing dishes. Lucy’s back in the living room, ‘diagnosing’ Pinkie with her toy doctor kit.

“Hey,” Luke says, sliding an arm around your waist.

“Luce told me she’s worried about her Snoopy. Said she wants me better so we can skate.”

You dry your hands, turning to face him.

“Yeah, she asked about you last night, too, right after you got home. She could tell you weren’t yourself. I didn’t want to stress her out, so I said you were just tired.”

He sighs, rubbing his jaw. “She’s too smart for her own good. I hate that she’s worried.”

“She loves you,” you say, cupping his cheek.

“And she’s four, she thinks she can fix you with hugs and porridge. Which, honestly, might work.”

Luke laughs, then coughs, wincing.

“Don’t make me laugh. It hurts my throat.”

“Sorry,” you say, but you’re grinning.

You lean up to kiss him softly, mindful of his fever. “You’re doing great, though. She’s so happy you’re home.”

He pulls you closer, resting his chin on your head.

“Couldn’t wait to get back to you two. Even if I feel like death.”

Luke’s fever is down by the evening, and he’s got a bit more color in his cheeks. You’re all in bed early, Lucy want to sleeping between you, whispering to Luke about how she’ll ‘check his temperature’ tomorrow with her toy thermometer.

“You gotta get better, Snoopy,” she mumbles, already half-asleep.

“I need you for ice time.”

“I’ll be there,” Luke whispers back, his voice still rough but full of love.

“Love you, Luce.”

“Love you, Snoopy,” she murmurs, clutching his shirt.

You reach over, squeezing Luke’s hand.

“Love you too, Snoopy.”

He chuckles softly, squeezing back.

“Love you most, ‘Fifi.’”

[revelboo]

Could I get the constructicons caring for a sick human? I’m sick sobbing through uni assignments right now and wishing I had a possy of mechs to take care of me :(((

make sure to keep your immune system strong- don’t make my mistake ☠️

Oh, no! Hope you feel better soon!

Scenario-Sick

Constructicons x Reader

• Hearing the little noise you’d called a sneeze, Scavenger tenses as Bonecrusher heads right for him. “Bonecrusher, I don’t fragging bend that way,” Scavenger hisses as his brother grabs the edge of his scoop and tugs him down so he’s bent backwards. All so Bonecrusher can check on you in your nest of blankets and pillows curled up in his scoop. While he’s honored you’d chosen him as your default comfortable place to nap, it’s less flattering with Bonecrusher constantly mauling him to get to you. Especially with you sick, because hearing Hook say he couldn’t help has them all on edge.

• Head lifting tiredly as you suppress another sneeze, you blink up at Bonecrusher as he offers you a bottle of warm ginger ale and a can of chicken noodle soup. Well. He’s trying at least. “Thank you, sweetheart,” you manage amid a coughing fit, taking the stuff from him so you don’t hurt his feelings and adding it to the pile. Though if he brings you any more stuff, you’re not going to be able to lay down. Don’t know where they’re getting this stuff and honestly, you probably don’t want to know. Boxes of Kleenex, bags of lozenges, advil, DayQuil and who knew what else is piled up around you. It looks like one of them kicked a wall down in a pharmacy and just grabbed whatever they could reach. Which probably isn’t too far off.

• Holding Scavenger still, Bonecrusher reaches in to rub a servo against your jaw. Spark aching when you sneeze again, little frame jerking with it and he hates this. Hates not being able to fix this. Rumbling when you reach up to lay a hand on his servo, eyes closing. Maybe he should get you more stuff? Hook had researched human illnesses after you’d insisted it was just a cold. Said this stuff would help, but you look so pale and exhausted still. “Need anything?” Something for him to do to help? Anything?

• Hears you tiredly telling Bonecrusher that you just need rest and Hook nudges Scrapper. Their leader shooting him a tired look that he completely understands. How many times have they had to gently coax Bonecrusher into letting you sleep already? “Come on, big guy,” Scrapper growls, grabbing Bonecrusher’s elbow. ‘Let them sleep,’ Hook adds, tone annoyed and impatient. And Bonecrusher protests as they patiently lead him away knowing it won’t be a breem before the big mech thinks of something else you desperately need and goes to pester you again. Long Haul and Mixmaster just as bad as he spots the latter headed your way with more pillows to dump in on you. For Primus’s sake they’re worse than sparklings, though he understands their worry. Feels it twisting through him, too.

• Going to intercept Mixmaster before he can try to bury you alive in pillows, Hook glances at Scavenger and his scoop. Knows you’re fine. That this just needs to run its course, but right now he hates your messy organic immune system. Hates not being able to help you when you’re so miserable and they’re all looking to him even though he’s told them there’s nothing he can do. But when you’re better? He’s going to lay you down among all those pillows and fill you over and over. Let his nanites have a chance to get established and bolster your immune system so he doesn’t have to go through this again.

[strwbrychffoncke]

"so go and tell everyone you know that you're all mine, mine, mine, mine, mine,, 2.7k words ⸺ event masterlist synopsis: when your pretty hunter boyfriend receives too much attention ,you decide to take a page from his book contains: nsfw! lnds xavier x afab!reader ,miminal plot tbh ,reader wears a dress ,feelings of jealousy (reader) ,hugging ,kissing ,marking ,you push xav onto the bed ,teasing ,switch!reader ,fellatio ,cum eating ,unprotected sex ,riding ,reader kinda possessive but just kinda ,switch!xav kinda ,creampie ,brief overstimulation ,fluff afterglow ,reassurance ,mention of aftercare ,i think thats it note: (mostly edited!) loosely based on this one twt ab his nightly rendezvous card w an ss ab mc saying she also has a temper & the tweet saying how excited he was at the thought of her getting jealous/doing the same to him that he did in his card.... i hope it came out well...? (og had top!xav in mind but wanted to try smth i dont usually lean into... maybe ill write him another time i <3 when he gets freaky lol)

-

xavier was the jealous type.

that much you knew.

you'd seen the more subtle moves of his possession over you, namely telling others off in a roundabout way or making it know that he was your partner.

other times, his temper escalated, and the night was filled with passion and the reassurance that you were his.

though, you had a temper as well.

and you had just about reached your limit today.

-

xavier sensed that you were... off today, to say the least.

honestly, he could guess why, but he was curious about this side of you, and wanted to see how you got during this time since you were usually the one quelling his feelings.

you're not as chatty on the way back to the apartment, and when you both slip inside of his, door clicking shut behind you, you immediately lean your weight against your partner before you, ear pressed against his chest, cheek squished against the hardness, arms snaking around his middle and holding him tightly in place.

he laughs at the sudden affection, wrapping his own arms around you. at his reaction, he feels you pout against him.

"what's wrong, love?"

you don't respond right away, squeezing him a little bit tighter.

"mine," you mumble against his shirt.

a giggle escapes him again.

ah, so it really did get to you.

on your date earlier, xavier had been approached by some lady when you had left to buy some snacks at a nearby stall. she was chatting him up very enthusiastically, and you couldn't help the feelings stirring within you.

when she asked for his number and he politely declined was when you finally closed the distance, bright smile as you latched onto your boyfriends arm, politely asking who the guest was.

xavier casually began explaining while the girl in question scurried away at the sight of your closeness. you were satisfied at that, at least, dragging him away elsewhere.

though, there were still brief instances of your boyfriend being marveled at by strangers and passerby's alike— much to your chagrin.

you begin sliding your hands up xavier's larger ones, up his arms and across his chest as you kiss at his neck, reveling in the surprised, airy noises he releases into the room, hands reaching forward to grip onto your waist.

in the midst of your kissing and sucking of the pretty skin of his neck, you push at him lightly, signaling him towards his bedroom. xavier follows your lead, excitement growing at your lead.

by the time you get there, you're growing impatient, need steadily growing as you push him back onto the bed, quickly moving to straddle his lap. you don't give him time to question, kissing his lips fervently, hands trailing down and pulling at the hem of his sweatshirt, breaking the kiss to tug it over his head before you're back on him, hands now slipping beneath his shirt to feel up his toned torso.

he moans into the kiss at your touches, wandering hands sending sparks through his sensitive skin, growing harder and harder as you grind against his crotch. he lets you finally tug his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere before you're leaning up again, kissing him hard and leading him to lay completely on his back, soft fabric of your pretty dress an annoying barrier against his bare chest wanting nothing more than to feel your warm boobs instead, completely at your mercy as you continue grinding your clothed heat against him.

you break the kiss and pull back, looking down at him, satisfied at the state you brought him to, relishing in the way that no one else would have the privilege of doing the same.

"you're so pretty, xav...." you mumble, eyes clouded in need.

xavier's breath hitches as you slide your hands tantalizingly slow down his torso, past his waist until you reach his hips and go a little lower, stopping right before the confined bulge.

your deft hands quickly unbutton and unzip them, pushing them down past his hips, mouth watering at the hard-on pressing through the thin fabric of his grey boxers, small wet patch forming from the leaking head— a show of how much he liked you like this.

he's panting now, anticipating your next move, nerves aflame at your initiative and more than happy to let you do as you please to him— maybe, he thought, he should be a little embarrassed at how turned on he was from this but honestly, he couldn't bring himself to be, not when all he felt was pride that you loved him so much to feel so strongly about him this way.

the same way he felt about you.

he watches as you make brief eye contact with him, head lowering toward his covered cock, watching your tongue dip out and lap at the wet spot of the cloth.

he can't help but moan at the sight, body on fire as he watches you tease him through his boxers for a little longer before he can't take it anymore.

"please, love," he almost begs, wanting nothing more than for you to seat yourself on him and take exactly what you want.

a little grin creeps up your lips and you sit back up, grabbing the hem of his boxers and tugging them down, taking your time and watching as his cock spring to life.

once those are discarded and he's laid bare for you, one hand reaches out to stroke his pretty length, leaning forward and kissing him deeply as you do so.

both of your eyes are fluttered shut and he's humming into the kiss, letting you set the pace, more and more precum leaking from the tip as your speed increases, swallowing his sounds all the while.

you break the kiss suddenly, saliva connecting your lips when you break the string, moving back down and taking the head of his cock between your lips instead, swirling your tongue around the head a few times before slowly fitting more and more of him into your mouth. you gag slightly when you reach your limit, one hand continuing to stroke what you can't fit while the other gives attention to his swollen balls, all while the man below you can't help the moans that are released into the quiet of his apartment.

the wet sounds of his shaft, your sucking, and his moans fill the space, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. you speed up your ministrations while subconsciously grinding your damp panties against his thigh, knowing he's close and wanting nothing more than to swallow his seed before finally riding his cock.

"love, love, ah- so cl-ose, ah!"

you peek up at xavier's pleasure-filled expression, eyes shut and head thrown back into the pillows, one hand splaying over your head to grip your hair and the other clenched as he tosses it across his mouth, trying his best to muffle the growing volume of his moans at his approaching orgasm.

and with a few more quick strokes and precise sucking he reaches that peak, groaning loud with your name on his lips as his flavor fills your mouth, hips needily bucking against his thigh in need. you continue stroking and squeezing at him, trying your best to swallow all that he gives to you, some inevitably dribbling past your lips as you release the head with a pop, letting the remaining ropes decorate your chin and the lacy fabric of the dress covering your chest.

"always so much," you smile to yourself, always pleased to be marked in his essence.

you're both panting into the air, catching your breath for awhile after. when xavier manages to crack his eyes open, the sight is enough to make him hard again.

you, panting softly, eyes glazed over, sitting on top of him with his cum staining the neckline of your dress and chest, dripping past your wet lips.

god, were you ethereal.

he watches you sit on your knees, reaching under the short skirt of your dress, slowly tugging down your soaked panties, and he can't help the rumble in his chest at the sight of the pretty pearlescent-colored pair practically soaked through— a sign that you were enjoying this just as much as him.

he can't tear his gaze away from you as you position yourself right above him, hand reaching down to stroke at his sensitive cock a couple times, aligning him with your slick entrance.

you look up at his face, giving him a chance to stop or tell you to keep going.

"take what's yours, love."

and with that, you sink yourself down onto his length.

you can never get used to his length no matter how many times you've taken him or had him bully himself into you, a moan ripping from your throat at the first intrusion. you steady yourself, hands flat on his torso and more sounds escaping you as you impale yourself on his cock, bit by bit.

xavier is always aroused by the sight. he can feel himself leaking more, your shared slick dripping down his cock as you continue making your descent.

once you finally take him to the hilt, sitting flat against him, you breathe a sigh of relief, rolling your hips and feeling how full he is within your snug walls. xavier groans at the movement.

"so full, always so full," you mumble almost incoherently, xavier humming in pleasure at the comment.

"it's all for you, love, all for you," and only for you; the underlying message in the sentiment.

satisfied, you begin lifting your hips up enough to keep his head sheathed before slamming back down, a shared sound of pleasure between you both reverberating through the bedroom. in no time, you begin setting a steady pace, hips rising and falling rhythmically, panting out into the air at the pleasure that fills you.

"xavier, hah, feels good," you pant.

"only.. i get to do this... you're mine, ah—"

while your words held promise, xavier couldn't help but think how cute it was of you, saying that while using him like this.

his heart thrums in his chest, hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer towards him.

"all for you, only you, angel," he reassures, relishing in your moans as he makes you grind on his cock before letting you continue bouncing on him.

you arch your back as you bounce, his hands slipping to your thighs and moaning with you, watching as your breasts bounce behind the fabric of your dress.

thats... not right.

lost in the pleasure, you don't fully register the quick motion xavier makes as he grips the hem of your dress, resting at the tops of your thighs, before quickly tugging it over your head and unclipping your bra, tossing them somewhere on the floor as his hands reach up to knead at your bare tits.

you moan is response, hands firmer on his abs at the new stimulation fueling your arousal. you feel your movements ceasing, legs slowly growing tired, but you're determined, wanting nothing more than to feel his warmth invade your insides.

"need some help?"

you let out a surprised moan at the sudden thrust from below— xavier's doing.

"let me help you, angel."

he's gazing at you in that way that leaves no room for argument, his voice darker, a little hushed but with underlying need, and you can't help but to accept his offer.

"please, xavier."

he grips your hips again, planting himself firmly into the mattress before he immediately begins relentlessly thrusting into you from below.

you grip onto his abs tighter, anything to stabilize yourself against his brutal thrusts (how he was able to give such perfect, punctuated thrusts from this position, you had no idea, but no complaints either), moving your hips just enough to meet them, pleased sounds intermingling at the full feeling where you needed him the most.

you throw your head back at one particular thrust, mewling and moaning in response and moving your hips in tandem with xavier's, feeling yourself approaching your high.

"there, xavier! close, hah, im-"

"yeah? feel good, angel? ah-a—"

his thrusts grow sharper somehow, more calculated, one hand moving from your waist down to your clit, playing with the button to increase your pleasure tenfold. you're beginning to see stars, gripping onto him tighter.

"xavi— ah!"

you make me feel so good, angel— only one, hah, who makes me feel this way—"

his words, his thrusts, the stimulation on your clit, the overwhelming sensation of pleasure courses through you, and you lean down to capture his lips with yours in a needy, loving kiss. with a couple more weak plaps against his lap and upwards thrusts from him, you're gushing all over his cock.

"cumming! xavier—"

"m' close, angel, m' close—"

you're laying on top of him as he continues slamming his hips into yours from below, your pretty moans right next to his ear sending even more pleasure through his body.

"too.. much, xavier, too much—"

you're whining in overstimulation against him, tears pricking at your eyes from not being given a chance to come down from your first high before he begins beckoning you into another. one of his hands spreads flat against your back as the other still holds your hip, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck as he reaches the peak.

you cry out at the feel of his teeth, arms wrapping around his head and fingers digging into his hair, mewling both at the feeling of his mouth leaving his mark and the warmth that slowly fills you up, the excess remnants of your mixed essence dripping down his spent cock.

you're breathing hard against his ear, hugging him close to your chest for awhile, only letting out pleased hums and small sounds as xavier continues to litter your exposed neck and collarbones in bites and kisses. he can feel your rapidly beating heart like this, smiling against your chest before leaving kisses on the bare mounds.

you pull back after you finally manage to come down, looking into his bright eyes, offering a small smile and leaning forward to kiss him again, this time slow and sweet, full of gratitude and appreciation.

you're the one to break the kiss, cupping his face in your hands and peppering it with kisses all over, prompting the man below to giggle at the sensation.

"so," his hands rub up and down the expanse of your back. "do you feel better, now?"

you tap the corner of your lips with an index finger, feigning a thoughtful expression as you look elsewhere in the room.

"hmmm..."

"because i'm always ready to give you all the reassurance you need, lovely."

his words are sweet, but there's a teasing, almost dark look in his eyes when he shifts his hips just slightly underneath you, causing your body to jolt immediately.

"i'm fine, i'm fine, all better!"

he laughs at your hasty response, arms circling your waist.

"good. if you ever feel that way again, you can do the same thing," his eyes hold mischief before he grows a little serious.

"i'm yours. i always have been."

your heart flutters, and you can't help the urge to kiss him again.

"and i'm yours, always."

"always," he smiles at you.

despite the occasional feelings of jealousy, you both knew that you belonged to the other, forever.

-

epilogue:

"you were so rough with me today," xavier jests, teasing smile playing on his lips.

embarrassed, you can't help to stumble over your words.

"sorry, it was— i just—"

xavier silences you with a peck to your lips.

"its not a bad thing," he reassures, leaning forward so his nose touches yours. "i like when you get that way."

you hum, relaxing against him again.

"though, i'll need a long rest after that," he says, shutting his eyes.

you lightly hit at his chest.

"xavier, we can't just sleep like this!"

"of course we can."

"come on, let's get cleaned up."

when he pretends to doze off under you, you try slowly pulling back to at least clean yourself up, only to be held down by the strong hunter's arms.

"xavier!"

"don't leave me."

"then come with me," you laugh.

he sighs.

eventually, you manage to get him up to take a shower, washing each other off before slipping into some cozy clothes. then, and only then, do you allow him to succumb to sleep, using your chest as a pillow.

you brush your fingers through his hair, planting a fleeting kiss on his forehead.

"all mine," you smile, shutting your own eyes and allowing yourself to drift off.

-

a/n: came out a little differently than i imagined but hope its still ok? havent written for xavier since december so pls be kind.... ill write more for him in the future i promise....

-

[kuniihoonii]

what about aventurine who’s bratty, selfish and demanding in bed…. just laying in bed with spread legs making u do everything, and u better do a good job fucking his brains out or he’ll get bored 🙂‍↕️ he’ll suck ur dick but only bc he likes doing it and even then he’ll finger himself… aventurine who is a bossy bottom at first but then gets put in his place perhaps crying and whimpering and bent in half 🤔🤔🤔🤔

This!! Honestly I think at first he will act all bossy but once he's getting dicked down so good to the point he's going dumb, he won't be as bossy anymore <3.

A thought I did have was him riding reader and acting like he's the one in charge but as soon as reader starts fucking up into him he'll break.. like he's about to say something bratty and then you give him a harsh thrust <3 having him collapse on you from how rough your thrust is <3. BUT since we're talking about Aventurine who'd make you do all the work, Ill focus on that <3.

He'd be laying on the bed with his legs spread telling you to hurry up already. Threatening that he'll just leave if you don't fuck him. So when you finish prepping him, thrust into him with one move, he'll get taken aback for a second but he'll put his facade back on. "Oh finally, I thought you'd never do it" he'd roll his eyes while saying that.. it's almost as if he's trying to get in your nerves just to get you to be rough with him.

Maybe you should just gag him if he keeps talking back. Or flip him over with his ass up and face in the pillow, pushing his face into the pillows by tugging his hair which would end up with his moans being muffled <3. He loves it all so fucking much. He'll finally start shutting up as he goes dumb. He might try throwing some more bratty comments so just give him a harsh thrust and he'll shut up. Oh and maybe edge him a bit <3 ruin his orgasm a couple times too as a punishment for being so impatient and selfish <3. He might (will) just end up crying and begging you to let him cum, maybe even apologise <3.

Nowww if he's sucking your cock he will tease you. Giving you kitten licks and not sucking you off properly because he finds it entertaining how you get annoyed with him. Tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself <3. He'll act like it doesn't affect him but it does, it turns him on even more.

Pull on his hair and have him take your dick all the way down his throat <3. He loves it so much when you handle him like this, fucking his throat so deep. And even though his hands are tied behind his back he trusts you enough that you won't actually harm him. He trusts you know his limits, how far to push him with the deepthroating.

Push him down more so his nose is touching your lower abdomen <3 hold him there for a bit before releasing his head. He'll pull back panting for air and looking up at you with teary eyes, his tongue sticking out to show that he's ready for more <3. Oh and cumming down his throat <333 he'll take it all so well, moaning at the taste and the feeling of your hot cum shooting into his mouth <3.

Do keep fucking him until he's a begging, crying mess. Then go to aftercare and clean him up <3. Give him so much love please 🙁.

[potatomountain]

CIY- CH 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Turning Point" 📍WC: 3.3k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, some angst, dark themes implied, oral (male receiving), body piercings, cum-eating, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour 📍dividers made by: @cafekitsune 📍AN: As a birthday gift to me (9-24) I am posting this hecka early. But also annoucing that there will not be another CIY posting until after October (most likely. who knows, i might get impatient myself) as ill be focusing on Kinktober and some fics i have planned for October! There are 6 chapters left (roughly) so please enjoy <3

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Three weeks. Three weeks had gone by and you had to admit, you missed them. Well, some of them. Wooyoung’s incessant need for you. San and his flirting- his dimples. Yeosang’s cute little lisp and the sound of him tapping away on his keyboard. Hell you even missed hearing Mingi fuck others and keeping you awake at night. You might even miss Jongho’s constant scowl in your presence.

Seonghwa had been taking you to and from the club every night, five nights a week, and would tell you to rest the other two. You wouldn’t come into the office but now you wanted to. Maybe then you could do something about this odd bundle of emotions in your stomach. Yeosang sent you instructions on how to fill out a report of your undercover work on the program he installed in your laptop, which automatically stored the vital information and categorized and compared it with the rest. So in short, now you couldn’t even tell them about the new rumors you’ve picked up at the club.

At least now you knew why they were so busy, far too busy for you. The Vipers and the Wolves were still at each other’s throat, fucking up cash grabs, stealing product, or raiding known businesses of the other. San told you he was cleared to head back to fighting soon, and it worried you that the Wolves would hit the fighting ring while he was there.

But, what could you do about it? Undercover work was something that took months to years to gain enough influence to make a difference. You were nothing more than a fly on the wall gathering information, searching for weaknesses to use against the big players. A slip up that could get them behind bars.

Once more you thought of the dead boy in the alley. Once more you pictured someone else as that dead body. And once more you realized that, as a detective, there was nothing you could do to prevent that. It was a frustrating feeling.

And that’s why you found yourself heading to the gym on your next free day, ready to punch the frustration out or work up enough of a sweat that your muscles would be screaming at you until tomorrow.

It was a nice sweet surprise to find Hongjoong there, working on one of the machines, a thin sheen of sweat coating his bare arms and calves. He was wearing a hat, black tank and black gym shorts with an airpod in as he was chatting with someone. He didn’t notice you at first, but when you got close enough to hear his conversation, you frowned at how quick he hung up when he did notice you. “I’ll call you back later.” The weights dropped as he let go of the handles to turn the call off, shifting to look up at you with a bright and charming smile despite your deepening frown. “Firecracker, lovely to see you here.”

“Cut the bullshit” you weren’t having it today. Had the three weeks away changed something? Had your observations just been wishful thinking? Why was he hiding things from you? They still didn’t trust you fully did they? Ah, that hurt. Hongjoong seemed to catch on by your tone and stance, the smile softening to something more genuinely welcoming. “It was San, he was giving me an update on the Vipers I-” “Am I not allowed to hear what you had to say?” You cut him off, still staring him down. You shouldn’t be getting so worked up, you really shouldn’t.

But Hongjoong seemed good at reading you, reaching out and holding his hand palm up. “Would it ease your mind to know what is going on? What he was telling me? Or can I ask you to trust me on this, and you can learn all about it later?” You stared at his hand for a moment, eyes running up his arm to the tattoos that covered his bicep. Briefly you glanced at the ink before meeting his eyes. “It’s a delicate matter?” You decided to ask, arms uncrossing to rest at your sides. “Yes. The war they have going on is turning into a bloodbath.” He didn’t elaborate, just smiled wider when you did take his hand finally. Gently he pulled you closer.

Relaxing a bit further, you let him. He didn’t need to explain, because you realized what he meant. The Vipers were losing everything, and the Wolves would take what they could from them. Killing, maiming, or selling off each member or even associate. “I see… what are we doing about it?” He lifted a brow at your choice of words, pulling you right between his knees and holding both of your hands. You don’t know why he insisted on this sort of touch, but you didn’t mind one bit. “Nothing we can do. We can’t pull San out safely, but there isn’t a way we can stop the Wolves either. Not without risking more. Did you come here to blow off some steam? Worried about him?” Slowly you nodded, staring at your joined hands. “I don’t want to punch anything, just not think. The Boas don’t care much for either, but I hear how ruthless the Wolves are. They’re scared of them much more than the Vipers and-” Your words were cut off as he pulled you onto his lap. “Captain?” “How do you think San can get out of this unscathed? I’m worried too, Firecracker, and even if we can’t do much, it’s better to have some hope that something can happen to save him. Right?” He was comforting you, wasn’t he? The notion had your cheeks warming, mind shifting to the question. With everything you knew, what needed to happen for San to be truly safe from the Wolves? “I… well the Vipers are no match for the Wolves alone but if they had help… then San’s chances of- well you know. The Guardians are the only ones who can stop the Wolves, but I don’t see how they would get involved. Not unless this war causes significantly more damage, or they believe it will.” Your original thought was the Guardians getting rid of the Wolves anyways. After all, the more you learned about them, the more you realized that the biggest, scariest monster out there was the Wolves. The Vipers would be easier to take down, same with the Goblins. The Golden Circle could just be bought out, most of them just greedy cowards. And the Guardians and Pirates? They cared more for regulation to an extent than chaos.

The Wolves enjoy being cruel for cruelty’s sake. Sadists, killers, men who wanted to see the world burn and wanted to be the hands responsible for it. People were toys to them. Ones they wanted to break and use any way they saw fit.

You’d rather see San with his busted lip and black eye from a fight in the ring rather than the possible torture the Wolves would put him through. “The Wolves won’t stop until every last Viper is dead or turned to them or sold. I’d rather the Vipers win, and that can't happen without the Guardians. Either working together or the Guardians step in to apply pressure to the Wolves to back them off.” Hongjoong’s sudden bright smile threw you off and you were on your feet in a second. “What?” He chuckled, just to pull you back down with enough force you tumbled into him, hands on his chest and lips suddenly on his. He swallowed up your squeak, pulling you fully onto his lap as his tongue sought yours. You hadn’t expected it, but he tasted so good that you didn’t want to pull away. Yet as soon as melted into him, he was separating your mouths. “You really are a genius, I think. That’s something we never thought of.” You blushed at his compliment, staring up at him as his fingers carded through your hair. “What ideas did you have?” “Ones that involved what the Vipers alone could do, or we as detectives. Sometimes we forget to take a step back and see all this from a different angle.” “I see… but can we really do anything like that?” He shrugged. “We could have Wooyoung or San suggest it. If the Vipers are smart, and want to survive, they’ll latch onto that idea hopefully before it’s too late.” Pride swelled through you, as well as respect. Hongjoong did respect you, to go from easing your worries, to turning your thoughts into something productive, and then backing your idea as an equal. All while he was kissing you, touching you, melting you in his arms like you were his lover.

“Captain-” “Please call me Hongjoong, or something like that outside the office. Especially when you’re in my arms like this.” He stopped you, arm tightening on your waist while his other hand massaged your scalp a bit. He chuckled at the pleased sound you made at the touch.

“H-Hongjoong… did Seonghwa- ah Hwa- tell you about…” You trailed off, eyelids getting heavy the more you relaxed in his embrace. He nodded. “S-so you know how much this means to me?” “I do, Firecracker. And he told you how things work, and his unofficial invitation?” When you nodded, his hand tightened in your hair enough to pull an unexpected moan from your lips. “I’m going to take how pliant you are in my arms as an acceptance of that if you keep this up. Wooyoung might be the most vocal about his desire for you, but I feel it just as intensely.” Your hands gripped his tank tightly, lips parted as you enjoyed the way he was getting a bit rough with your hair. Massage, then tug. Smooth then tug harder. “Then why pull me onto your lap?” “To treasure you, though I didn’t think you would let me.” He admitted, shifting you on his thighs a bit until you could feel his hard on against the side of your thigh. “Yeosang is going to get another show at this rate.” Laughing under your breath softly, you shifted on his lap. “Good. I’m not too happy about him telling you all about San and Chan. He likes to watch and then run his mouth to you all? I should show him what he’s going to miss because he’s always hiding behind those screens.” Detaching yourself from Hongjoong, you stood back up between his legs, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders to card your fingers through his hair at the base of his neck, just under the cap. Latching your lips onto his to keep him from questioning you, your mind wandered to Yeosang and the expressions he made when he had been watching you and Wooyoung. Would he make those now? Better yet… What expressions would Hongjoong make?

With your lips still attached, brushing over his soft ones, letting him chase yours with each stroke, your hands ran down his chest. His shirt stuck to him with damp sweat, muscles tensing under your fingertips: first over his pecs, which had a nice curve to them, and then over his stomach. The lower they got, the more desperate his lips on yours.

The sound he made, the breathy whine as you cupped his sizable bulge in his shorts, turned you on even more. So eager to see just how far you could push him.

In a way, this was your first time initiating with them. As you slipped down onto your knees, palming at his hardening cock through the material of his shorts, you acknowledged the fact he hadn’t asked for this, or done much to make you want him: you just wanted him, and wanted to do this. Wooyoung had begged and begged. And Mingi had wanted to prove to you how much he wanted you. You just let them have the opportunity, reaping the ecstasy they gave you. And as much as you loved taking what they had to offer, you wanted to give back as well. In particular to the man before you. The man who was trying so hard not to pull your hair too much. Who was gripping the seat beneath him as his hips rolled up into your hands, pretty lips parted and swallowed from your kisses.

If Hongjoong had turned you away, or tried to block you at every turn like you had expected him to do before meeting him, you wouldn’t have this growing warmth in your heart at every thought of them. The swell of pride at your ongoing work. You wouldn’t have a confidant in San and Seonghwa. Wouldn’t have the eager lovers Wooyoung and Mingi. The witty banter of Yunho and Yeosang.

And perhaps, pressing your lips to where you could feel his tip twitching beneath the material, you wanted to convince them that they had to have you, just as you had to have them.

Selfish, greedy, maybe a little manipulative: that’s what you thought of yourself as you pulled his shorts down enough to expose his cock, staring up at him with a question in your eyes. 

Maybe you were all those things, but it was worth it as he tightened his hold on your strands significantly and pulled you against his cock, smearing the bit of precum and sweat on your lips and cheek, pleading with you. “Take what you want, gorgeous, I’m yours to use.”

How could you deny him- deny yourself- when he looked so delectable like this? 

Taking the invitation for what it was, your tongue ran up his length as your hands worked his pants down further. His words rang in your head, the adoration mixed with lust in his expression adding to the pit of emotions coursing through you.

With your lips wrapping around his tip, eyes focused on his expression, you marveled at the warm metal now clicking against your teeth. Quickly you pulled away and glanced down, breath hitching at the metal bar on the underside of his tip, right through the soft flesh in between the twi curves of his hood. “Oh fuck-” Mingi and him? Different places but you could remember how the piercing felt… if you took Hongjoong inside, you’d feel the metal scraping against your walls and the thought had you dripping in your underwear.

Wanting him to want that just as much, you took him back in your mouth, humming as you quickly took as much of him as you could. His eyes rolled back momentarily, breath hitching and fingers curling in your hair. He could fuck your mouth right now and you’d let him.

You’d let him do a lot of things if he continued to let out sweet whines like the one that just fell from his pretty lips. He wasn’t small, but definitely not Mingi’s size. But Hongjoong never needed size to get his point across, or for you to notice him- there was much more about him and the man utilized that to command a room and gain a grip on anyone he wished. 

Right now you were the one in his grip, both figuratively and literally, as you pushed his shorts down and spread his thighs wider. Shuffling a bit closer, you took more of him in, humming around his cock once more as it hit the back of your throat, nose so close to his pelvis, but you managed. The sweat didn’t bother you, neither did the feel of the hard floor under your knees, not when he seemed to be unraveling at your touch. You were enjoying him so much you swore you could suck him off for hours without a reprieve. So what if your throat was sore? If you were tasting his cum and sweat for hours after with every drink and food you devoured? Pressing your tongue up as you pulled off his length, sure to add even more pressure to the piercing and was rewarded with a whiny moan as his body reacted: hips bucking and hand tightening in your hair to hold you still.

Oh so it made him sensitive?

Bobbing your head back down, taking as much of his length as you felt comfortable with, you focused more attention on his tip. Every time you pulled away you added pressure, letting your teeth scrape against it or twisting your head just enough as you pushed back down.

Hongjoong was noisy, between high pitched pants, to low curses under his breath, his fingers in your hair a give away to what he liked best. You used that to your advantage, nails digging into the inside of his thighs when you realized he liked that.

“Ah- fuck- gorgeous- Gunna make me- mmm fuck fuck~” His head kept rolling back but he would push forward to watch you as much as he could, mouth hanging open, teeth clenching in little hisses of pleasure. You hummed and moaned around his cock, picking up pace and pressure as your own need was clouding your thoughts. Have him cum first then maybe you could convince him to fuck you in the showers.

Your nails dug into his thighs more when he started pushing you, just slightly as if guiding, down on his cock. His head rolled back again, moans gaining volume as your name and praise joined the sweet sounds.

In awe of him you nearly choked when his thick cum hit the back of your throat in spurts. You pushed away a bit, lips still latched onto his twitching tip as he emptied his pretty balls on your tongue.

He lifted his head once he was spent, panting heavily and meeting your gaze. He slipped out of your mouth with a loud pop, your tongue lolling out to show the bit of cum still pooled there before you made a show of swallowing it.

“Fuck, Firecracker… I didn’t expect you to do this.” He smoothed out your hair, your scalp a little sensitive from how hard his grip had been.

Smiling, you rested your head on the inside of his knee, smoothing over the crescent marks you had made with your nails and admiring the piercing on his softening cock. “I wanted to. Wanted to show I want you too. I know I wasn’t as… vocal about it. Maybe with work but not in this way.” You tilted your head to look up at him, licking your lips and still tasting him on them. “If you have time… would the showers be private enough? I think Yeosang got enough of a show.” He chuckled, pushing the hair out of your face before gently tapping your cheek. “I should. Stand up for me?” 

Once you did you watched as he pulled up his underwear and shorts. Now you had a moment to admire the work on his arm, you liked learning about them and most people got tattoos that represented a part of them. Plus, tattoos were big in the underworld, often a way to show your rank or who you belonged to.

You noted a few portraits, black rimmed hats and masks, the eyes sharp. There were eight, you counted, surrounded by waves with… with a pirate boat detailed on the upper part of his arm. 

He called your name, moving just as you took note of a few letters on his arm. Sex was no longer on your mind, your brow furrowed as your mouth fell open to speak the first question that formed instead.

But the words were overshadowed by an alarm ringing through the gym and Hongjoong cursing. “Fuck- there’s an emergency.” He quickly pecked your cheek. “Head back to your apartment and wait for a call? I’ll let you know when everything’s okay.” He started grabbing his other things, but you were in shock.

The alarm turned off once he was gone but you were still rooted in place.

From the letters you had been able to make out, two of them had been “B” and “P”, just like Mingi had. 

Were they part of the Black Pirates? Were they… the enemy?

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[cyberm4n]

could you pls do lucifers' oldest daughter x adam, and lucifer disapproves of it and adam rubs it in his face and the reader is innocent and has no idea whats going in between them and is absolutely in love with adam, and smut and possibly daddy kink if possible??♡♡

combined these two cause they work together really well! im so glad i got adam requests cause i am in LOVE with his man rn

cw: daddy kink, smut, readers first time, reader doesn't know of the history between lucifer and adam and i don't explain how, mentions of past tense bad father lucifer, adam is a little shit, not proofread

adam with lucifers oldest daughter reader!

■ OKAY FOR STARTERS

■ if Adam is genuinely interested in a relationship with you, like it's not just to get at lucifer then he's the biggest softy

■ im a firm believer he is a sweetheart in private moments in a relationship

■ to everyone else he's a total jackass but when you two are alone?

■ he's so respectful and loving to you

■ but if you're innocent

■ this man has the biggest corruption kink in the fucking world and the fact he gets to have his way with the daughter of his "enemy" satisfies him more

■ but it does make him feel a bit warm when it becomes obvious just how in love you are with him

■ and anytime you tell your dad about your boyfriend he lights up! so happy his daughter has found someone :)

■ but shit goes down when he asks to finally meet him, he figures if his daughter is in love he should definitely know him

quick recess from that train of thought

■ adam! who's got you laid out on his bed, working his shirt off

■ adam! who hears your little murmur about being a virgin

■ adam! who is immediately rock fucking hard at the fact he gets to take that innocence from you

■ adam! who hovers over you, kissing your neck as he helps you out of your pants, his other hand tugging impatiently at your shirt

■ adam! who can't get over how fucking beautiful you are, all other motives thrown out the window, he just wants to make this good for you

■ adam! who growls when he works a finger into you, feeling how tight you are and hearing you whimper

■ "princess you gotta relax, gonna stretch you out. i know baby, i know. just let me make you feel good"

■ adam! who scissors his fingers in you, desperately trying to make this easier for you

■ adam! whose cock makes you tremble when you see it finally, he's big. i think he'd be above average, 7-8.5ish inches, girthy too.

■ "baby don't worry ill make it fit, daddy's gonna take care of you, okay?"

■ adam! who audibly groans after you don't even bat an eye at his slip up

■ ugh he'd be so sweet as he's guiding it in you, kissing your face, maybe even rubbing your clit to try and get you to relax

■ but just as he's about to bottom out hears a little "s'too much daddy" from you and he swears he could have cum right there

■ if this wasn't your first time he'd be pounding the shit out of you now

■ but he's gentle, at least at first

■ "okay sweetheart, i need more, can you do that?" he'd murmur, so sweet.

■ and then he fucking rails you

■ HEAVY BELIEVER he's gonna try and go atleast 2 rounds with you, maybe more

■ you're just too perfect he can't help it

ANYWAYS

■ so like, you're really oblvious to the beef between your dad and adam

■ like it's just never been expressed

■ plus lucifer doesn't have a great relationship with his kids!! so the fact you've even told him about your boyfriend makes him happy

■ so you go out for dinner! it's a classic! you have no idea why you're boyfriend is acting so weird!

■ what does NOT make lucifer happy is seeing you walk in with adam, his arm slung around your waist

■ he's in denial for a moment, standing from his spot as he meets you halfway

■ "dad, meet my boyfriend, adam!"

■ there's a beat of silence, and you're not sure why

■ but lucifer extends a hand "adam, it's so nice to meet you" he says through gritted teeth

■ tbh both are pretty quiet, only exchanging niceties until you leave for the bathroom

■ adam squeezes your hand as you stand up, watching you walk off.

■ then he turns back to face lucifer, a smug smirk plastered on his face

■ "you motherfucker" "well actually technically im a d—" "shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up"

■ lucifer genuinely has to convince himself not to fucking kill adam right here. reminding himself that his daughter is in love with him.

■ lucifer decides he doesn't have to like adam for him to support you

■ but adam is such a little shit, once you get back to the table he will not shut the fuck up

■ but you seem so happy, lucifer sees the way you look at adam. he sighs.

■ even when adam tugs at your collar a little "fixing it" supposedly but lucifer knows it's definitely just to flash that little love bite he left there

■ and to you it seems like your boyfriend and dad are getting along great! you're so happy

■ at the end of the night your dad pulls you aside, doing the whole dad talk thing.

■ "if he breaks your heart.."

■ but you hug him for the first time in a long time, and he decides he can tolerate this for as long as im happy.

■ your dad loves you, maybe not your boyfriend, but you.

■ and adam.. deep down knows there's a little bit more to his facade. he cares about you, how could he not? this started out as just a way to get under lucifers skin but he's found himself genuinely hoping your dad doesn't try to sour the relationship

■ so when you take his hand as you part ways with your dad he sighs in relief

■ you're all his, and he wouldn't want it any other way <3

taglist: @reaper-of-light-12 @mxxny-lupin @wisteria-songs @t3llas

[morinuu]

LISTWN TO ME I JUST READ YOUR TAMAKI ANGST AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE SO FICKING GOOD??

A she falls but he falls harder

Reader finally gets over it and stops coming, moving on and focusing on herself, and he notices and starts realizing how he took her for granted

And then its him that's loosing his mind and shit like that. Dude. Dude. I'm loosing my MIND you write so well

first of all ty for the compliment >< so glad u liked it im blushing and giggling!! secondly im not sure abt the reader completely abandoning tamaki's side (i love being delulu), but i do have smth else in mind that's kinda similiar n i hope its satisfactory :3 i changed only a minor part from the og :P i wanna make this a small series..... maybe like 3-4 parts.. anw this is pt 1

☀︎｜tamaki x female reader. almost 4k words. continuation of this. ure sick, yamada hinata & aoko r just some ppl i made up for the plot, tamaki's pretty stupid n emotionally unintelligent, lots of feelings and background information, y'all r childhood friends, there's like one 4th wall break but i thought it was kinda funny so i kept it

you weren't a fan of february.

allergy season was your absolute worst, the wheezing and coughing sucking the life out of you as you struggled to change out of your clothes to get the day started. you didn't sleep much, interrupted constantly by your sore throat aching and squeezing.

sure, it's just hay fever to everyone else, but for a young woman who carried around an inhaler, it's hell. well, almost hell.

what was truly hellish wasn't the fatigue or the sneezing, but your mum dragging you back in the house and forbidding you from going to school until you're well enough to study again. how were you supposed to keep up with chemistry class if you skip?

not that your parents cared for your grades; they knew you could just enter whatever field you wanted with the connections your family held, but it felt nice to be awarded for working hard.

after your personal maid let out a small "pardon me, miss" and carried you back to bed, you realised that the feeling your soft quilt hugging your cold limbs would never be beaten by the jacket you desperately clung on to warm yourself in p.e - which just so happened to be your first period that day and you were dreading it.

"i'll be making you some tea, miss. would you like to breakfast now?" your maid's quiet voice addressed you, hoping you'd just sleep the illness off as you usually did so she could rest too.

to be fair, you weren't a very easy master to please, so could you blame her?

"i'll breakfast la-" a cough and some wheezing "-i'll breakfast later, bring some english breakfast with a slice of lemon." you said nothing else, instead focusing on calming your throat that seemed to intensify in soreness. "a pastille too."

"understood my lady, i'll be right back." she bowed and excused herself from your room, ignoring your groans of annoyance as you buried your face into the pillow.

"damn it." you muttered and extended your hand to grab your phone from your bedside table. unlocking it with the passcode (because you weren't in the mood to lift your head and let your phone scan your face) you squinted as the light mode of a social media app hit your eyes harshly, forcing you to use muscle memory to lower the brightness to its minimum.

you scrolled through, liking your friends' private posts and decided to message one of them.

yn.spam: gm dude, i cant come to school today cus im sick. can u do me a favour n tell aoko to give me her notes? she never looks at her messages.

with your phone back on the table to wait for a response, you lied back comfortably and closed your eyes, because as much as you wanted to watch something on netflix or play a video game, you didn't want to make things worse for yourself.

you grew impatient for the cup of tea your maid was brewing, rotating between wheezing, checking your phone and staring at the ceiling. it seemed like the seconds weren't passing by at all.

soon enough, your maid comes back with some fancy tray carrying a kettle, your favourite mug (the one your daddy drank from when you were a little girl before your parents divorced), a tiny plate with some lemon slices and a small box of pastilles as throat medicine.

you didn't thank the woman when she helped you sit up, nor when she stayed by your side to make sure you didn't choke between coughs and burnt yourself with the hot liquid. just as you took your first sip, your phone lit up to show your friend's response.

thatguyhinata: Ayooo gppd morning. Sry to hear tht. Sure if I see her I'll telm her.

the irises in your eyes rolled upwards at the boy's typos that irked you every time, completely ignoring how he didn't wish for your recovery.

yn.spam: thanks yamada

you never used any of your circle's first names, which your mum always found weird.

'you sure these are your friends, darling?' she would ask often, and your response would always be the same:

'yeah mum. leave me be.'

only tamaki had ever felt close enough to be called by his first name.

after swallowing your medicine, you dismissed the older woman standing over you and pulled your quilt over your quivering form again.

"gods, please let this be over soon."

...

well.

...turns out, you gotta be much more specific with what you ask of gods, because they might not have the same understanding of the word 'soon'.

here you are, three days later, with your allergy having been combined with a virus that'd been going around, intensifying your asthma symptoms and raising a high fever, making your mother and doctor ban you from walking into ouran.

halfway throughout the day, you realise what had been completely slipping your mind while your lungs were occupied inhaling abnormally.

"i have an appointment today!" you exclaimed with wide eyes, raising from the bed like lazarus from his grave.

"...?" the new maid next to you didn't say anything, she was clearly concerned. after some seconds of you overthinking something, she spoke up. "you have no other doctor's appointment today, my lady. he just left 10 minutes ago."

you shook your head quickly, ignoring the dizziness brought by your fever "bring me my phone," the girl was puzzled "now!"

bowing a quick apology, she rushed to your desk and handed you your phone with both hands, not daring to look up. you disliked new maids; they were inexperienced and annoying, but scolding her would have to wait.

"damn it, damn it, damn it!" you murmured under your breath and tapped furiously on your phone, trying to find where the hell you'd written kyouya's business e-mail address.

you had it saved as every other client of the host club had, but you had never actually used it, not once.

you never missed an appointment, and always booked the next one tete-a-tete with the black-haired manager. if you became a no-show without prior notice, wouldn't that look bad? would it annoy kyouya and he wouldn't accept you in the club again?

well no, but you had the habit of overthinki-

'would it annoy tamaki?'

you groaned and murmured to yourself - had you deleted it? maybe it was in your notes app and you erased it? was it on your old phone from a month ago?

"find an e-mail for me." you ordered the maid who looked up at you perplexed, but carried out the order nonetheless.

the girl was embarrassed when she found out her master was asking for a host's email, wanting the earth to swallow her when she dialed the ouran academy's number. 'the stuff i do for money..' she thought and prayed her family never found out.

it wasn't a long process to retrieve the address, but what was, was the rant hitting the maid's ears when your overthinking about what to write left your mouth at incredible speeds.

"should i say i'm sick? but he already knows that- he's in my class! maybe tell him to give my time to another girl? no wait, he would do that anyway... or after i apologise, i'll say that, like, something came up- but that's not believable enough... ugh!" you buried your face in your pillow and, unbeknownst to you, your new maid's eye was twitching in annoyance.

she understood now why your personal maid took the week off just when you got sick - not that she understood how and why your mum allowed it though.

(it's because you can be insufferable and she gets it.)

"my lady, may i help?" the girl let out, clearing her throat when you lifted your head from the pillow. "i can write the e-mail myself, please focus on resting."

after some convincing, you gave in.

and so 10 minutes later, back at ouran, kyouya's phone let out a ting! with your full name on the notification. he'd already guessed you wouldn't show up to your appointment considering you hadn't come to school in three days, and already had someone to fill your place but left it for the last moment in case you did show up.

why? well you were ln yn, and it was painfully obvious you were smitten with his best friend, though he could say it was a bit different from the rest of the clientele.

probably due to the fact that you'd known tamaki for much longer than kyouya had. and yet tamaki didn't seem to have the same fascination with you.

he remembers when he first met you, when he'd heard that you were spoiled rotten and weren't even planning to enroll in ouran until tamaki did. you simply transferred to be with the boy.

literally everyone knew of ln yn's almost freakish obsession with suoh tamaki, except for the victim himself.

so imagine his surprise at the strictly professional e-mail he'd received from you, where not a single mention of your host was included. weird.

after glancing at the french boy in the seat next to him eating his bowl of some-sort-of-commoner-convenience-store lunch, kyouya quickly typed a response and informed the next girl in line that a spot was open 'for tamaki's hosting services at 15:35'.

"one of your appointments cancelled due to a personal issue. we'll have someone else fill it." kyouya told tamaki, just as stated in the e-mail, even though it was pretty clear you were sick, and he couldn't figure out why you'd lie.

"hm? oh, okay!" the brunet smiled and went back to devouring his meal, not thinking much of kyouya's words.

kyouya pondered if he should tell him the client was his loyal friend yn, who would never skip out on seeing tamaki, but he stopped himself, curious as to how it would all play out.

eh, if the twins could have fun, so could he.

"oh! haruhii! daddy's here!"

the hours passed so slow you were almost convinced time was frozen when you weren't glancing at the clock on your laptop.

the drama you'd been watching started to lose its interest after presenting the third plot twist in a row, annoying you with all the plot holes it left gaping.

sipping on your green tea (you'd been drinking tamaki's recommendation, pomegranate, only to throw all of it in the trash when you heard he gave the same advice to haruhi), you paused the show and sighed in absolute, tyrannical boredom.

by now you'd normally have finished your classes and walked to music room #3, your favourite among them all.

you'd be welcomed by a host and walked to a sofa to wait for your appointment, ignoring any other girl in the waiting area trying to pick a conversation with the middle child of the ln family.

and soon enough you'd be approached by your one and only taking your hand in his and kissing it to greet you, with his blue eyes staring up at you innocently like a man in love; a look he gave to any woman nowadays, it was second nature to him.

you got lost in them so often, he sometimes dared to ask you if you didn't enjoy his company and that's why you spaced out so much.

preposterous.

you? disliking tamaki? how could he think that after all these years you spent playing together, with you transferring to his school for his sake, swallowing your pride and becoming the client of a host for him?

truly an absurd notion.

currently, however, you weren't in the host club. you were just a girl with a bunch of germs crawling everywhere around her room, unable to go out and see the man of her dreams kiss her cheek and tell her to 'get well soon'.

speaking of, your mum grew increasingly concerned when she noticed the lack of communication between you and tamaki. you were always attached to his hip like some sort of koala, and the fact that you hadn't reached out to him to inform him of your illness personally so he could visit you made her worry.

but it was only natural that you'd suspect you were being an annoyance to tamaki once you began to notice his eyes shift from you to the newest host a couple of months prior. he'd been a petit brunet boy. a first year who was friendly and of lowly origin. you didn't think much of it.

at least not until the day hikaru asked if you could fetch something he forgot in the back room, completely ignorant to the fact that haruhi had come to the club early that day to ask for another uniform because she'd been accidentally thrown water at by two classmates of hers being stupid.

so when you opened the curtain and saw a small-sized girl with only her panties on desperately trying to hide herself from you, it didn't take more than a couple of seconds to put two and two together.

tamaki wasn't fascinated by the commoner errand 'boy' turnt host.

he wanted her.

you closed the curtain, giving the girl her privacy back and muttering an curt apology, "sorry." before deciding that hikaru would have to get his things himself.

neither haruhi nor you spoke about it again, and she never snitched to the host club about your discovery of her sex.

you liked to pretend it never happened, and that it never changed anything. but just like with tamaki, pretending doesn't go anywhere. the hints were there. his furiously blushed face when he stared at her, his protection of her when the twins teased her, his demands for kyouya to do things for haruhi because she'd like it, not even because she'd asked - well, the stage of denial didn't last long.

shortly after came anger. pure, unexplainable rage and envy. the fourth of the deadly sins was soon rushing through your veins like a drug you couldn't get clean from. 'why her?' you would ask in your rampages.

you couldn't figure it out, and you couldn't ask anyone either, because as infuriated as you were, hurting haruhi by revealing her identity wasn't on your to-do list.

not because you were a good person, god no.

rather, if tamaki knew you hurt his precious daughter - you barfed - like that, who knows if you'd see him again?

and so came the bargaining stage, with your rage never leaving your blood stream, of course. being petty was always one of your main personality traits, one that tamaki would often point out.

what did fujioka haruhi have that ln yn didn't?

'nothing.' you muttered to yourself.

nothing.

nothing?

could you be absolutely sure?

you didn't see her much outside of the club, and there were a couple of times you'd heard the hosts hung out together.

maybe they had a moment? or two, three?

perhaps it was high time you stopped bothering him. perhaps then he'd realise you were the one.

that's why your texts to him had much lessened, coming to a complete stop after roughly two months of your self-doubt and insecurities getting the best of you. so did your occasional visits to his house for studying. you'd even stopped wearing the perfume he got you as a birthday present last year, even though you couldn't find another scent that fit your tastes the same way.

despite your attempts at catching his attention, the bubbling fury in your chest rose once again when you realised that maybe tamaki didn't care about you at all.

he texted you as much as you texted him, he hung out with you only when you asked, and when he came closer to you and noticed the change in your scent, he went: "different perfume, princess?"

and while normally you'd be ecstatic at him noticing, your happiness was immediately destroyed when "the other one was a little old fashioned, good thing you moved to something more fresh."

why couldn't he say what he would have said had he been in an otome game, something among the lines of: 'did you wish to match mine?' or something cheesy like that? ...was your scent not to his tastes?

'did he forget his skills from hosting or what?' you whined.

consequently, now that you were sitting around doing nothing to reach out to tamaki or any of your 'friends', your mum couldn't help but take her phone in her hands to call her friend hitachiin yuzuha.

back in the pink room that is the host club, today's rendezvouses seemed to be going by awfully quickly for tamaki.

in the couple of minutes of break he had between the end of this rendezvous and next the one to come, he quickly found his phone from his back pocket and went over his schedule sent by kyouya.

your name had been crossed out and replaced with another one he recognised, another regular guest of his. he raised his eyebrow at that.

he lifted his head and looked for the shadow king.

"hey, kyouya?"

"hm?" kyouya didn't bother to look up from his laptop, furiously typing god-knows-what.

"why's yn's time gone?" he asked innocently in a curious voice that had you heard, you'd be swooning over.

"i told you, she cancelled due to personal business," his answer was straight-forward "although it's probably because she's ill."

ah, that makes sense, you were the one that cancelled.

wait, huh?

"what do you mean she's ill?" his eyebrows furrow a bit and he cocks his head to the side like a cute dog who doesn't understand anything its owner says.

"what do you mean, 'what do i mean'? she's been absent since monday because she's not feeling well, and she won't come today either. pretty simple." kyouya finally looked up at tamaki with a strange expression on his face. "has she not told you?"

tamaki shook his head a bit, "uhm.. no, not really." and tapped his phone again to check his messages on multiple social media apps to make sure he wasn't missing anything. his emails were empty too, only some spam from a newsletter page that he never bothered to cancel his subscription from.

"how do you know?" he questioned kyouya, but before he could answer, "no wait, don't answer that, you creep. of course you know." he sighed.

after some seconds of quiet thinking, "why didn't you tell me?" tamaki continued his questioning.

"everyone already knows, my lord." an awfully familiar voice butt in making the french boy turn his head around, resting his hand on his waist.

the voice belonged to kaoru, who had his arm wrapped around his twin's shoulders. seems like they also just finished with an appointment.

"what does that mean? who's 'everyone' and why am i not included?" tamaki crossed his arms, feeling kind of left out.

"that guy hayato or whatever who hangs out with yn and her friends was telling someone and we overheard." hikaru shrugged in unison with his doppelganger.

honey's soft voice entered the chat. "you mean hinata-kun? yn-chan's friend? yeah, he told me when i asked where yn-chan is because i thought she forgot to bring the candy she promised." he quickly grabbed a piece of cake from the fridge near where kyouya had been sitting and left the room swiftly.

huh, how convenient for him to enter for the plot.

"and why's it that you two evil bastards didn't bother to tell me?" tamaki exclaimed in disbelief, pointing a finger at the both of them. how could they? his precious childhood friend was sick at home and he didn't know?!

"sorry milord-" kaoru announced with his shoulders still raised, "-but you're always talking to yn-" hikaru joined, "-how were we supposed to know you're not asking her about her well-being?" they delivered the finishing blow together.

what were these lame jerks insinuating? 'not asking about her well-being'? what did they know? just as he went to respond with his usual barking, he stopped himself to instead text you on his own for the first time in a while. not that he noticed.

the twins looked at their king with a confused and weirded-out expression on both their faces, before glancing at each other and shrugging again, already disinterested. kyouya had long gone back to his work and so the twins walked to an empty sofa in an almost isolated area of the club, lying on top of one another to give a nice view to whichever client was into it.

about six minutes of pure silence passed between the two before kaoru's phone buzzed; a text from his mum.

the twins read the text simultaneously, with hikaru raising an eyebrow at its contents. they looked back at the slender boy texting you on his phone at the other end of the club, confused about his behaviour.

"seriously...?" hikaru quietly asked kaoru, referring to the text, only to be met with the other's puzzled expression.

as for the half-and-half boy, his fingers were anxiously tapping kyouya's table and awaiting your response to his message.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: Hey darling! Is everything alright? I heard you didn't come to school because you're sick. I thought you just didn't feel like coming. Why didn't you tell me?

he didn't know you let out a deep sigh at his text, even if it was three days late. it gave you hope - false hope. that he'd started to pay attention to you again. maybe being distant worked-

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: want me to come over?

the question felt natural to him, you always visited his home but seldom did he ever visit yours. since you were sick, it made sense that you wouldn't come over this time.

yn>.&lt; : arent u busy rn tho lol

your name on his phone had obviously been put there by you, his choice of emoji had been party hat for some reason.

"be serious, what does that even mean, tamaki?" you'd asked him one day during a break from your studying in his room.

"you don't like it..?" he pouted like usual and you rolled your eyes.

"here. that's better." you handed him his phone back with a new 'yn >.<' as your contact name.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: I can just come after club activities.

wait, he was actually coming? after two months of your only contact being through your rendezvous? it worked?! it actually worked?!

you thought of how to answer him.

at your lack of fast response, tamaki thought of ways to help you feel better through your illness.

'aha! eureka!' tamaki's head echoed.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: I'll bring some commoner snacks we can enjoy too! Commoners have incredible food to help alleviate illness!

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: What are you even sick with, anyway?

of course.

commoner food, of course.

haruhi's food.

yn>.&lt; : lol no its fine i dont want u to get sick. ill just c u at sxhool yn>.&lt; : school* yn>.< : doc said its just a cold but yk w my asthma n shit

tamaki was thoroughly disappointed with your response, what did you mean 'you didn't want him to get sick'? you'd never cared if you caught his cold.

his heart raced with worry, and he decided he would stop by anyway. knowing his next appointment was approaching, he speed walked over to the newest host.

"haaaaruuhiiiiii!" he waved his hand to her and her two clients, smiling widely with all of them smiling back at him.

"yeah? what is it, senpai?" haruhi looked up at him from her armchair.

"sorry to intrude-" he runs his hair through his locks - an action that you told him the ladies would swoon over, "-but i was wondering, do you have any recommendations for commoner food that sick people can eat?"

"...are you serious?"

[idciminlove]

FIGHTER.

Part One - X

Kang Dae Ho x f!reader

Cinnamonacid on AO3

Warnings- debts, threats, anxiety, fighting, anger issues, exhaustion, allusions to sexual harassment, chronic illness, etc.

Fighting is all you've ever known. It's all you've ever been good at, and when desperate times call for desperate measures, you wind up fighting for your life in the Squid Games.

But then you meet Dae Ho, the only person who can get you to lower your fists.

With his help, maybe, just maybe, the both of you can get out alive.

The lights in the ring are blinding, ugly cheap LEDs hanging from the ceiling that make your eyes sting. You ignored it, along with the familiar stenches that filled your nose- booze and cigarettes, blood and sweat.

Your head throbbed in pain as you hardly managed to block the punch from the woman in front of you, your opponent. Sweat dripped down your nose. Exhaustion and fatigue ached in your bones. But you knew you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t lose. You wouldn’t be able to afford it.

You clenched your gloved fists, holding them close to you and shuffling your feet. You furrowed your brows and took a shaky breath. Focus.

Your opponent lunged at you, swinging, but you fully blocked her hit this time, returning it with one of your own. She blocked it. You pushed against her arms, keeping her focus on your hands and waiting for that split second of vulnerability, so you could rear back and kick her in the side, causing her to double over and clutch her stomach. You kicked her again and she fell to the ground. The referee started counting, and you watched as she grasped her side, struggling to get up and catch her breath.

She didn’t get up. The referee grabbed your arm, raising it into the air to declare you as the winner. You could hardly even hear the cheers around you, too focused on the girl you had beaten, gazing at her over your shoulder. She was still on the ground, gasping for air and sobbing in pain. Guilt and concern washed over you in waves. You hoped you hadn’t done any severe damage. From the looks of it, she had a broken rib or two at least, and it was all your fault.

You did that. You caused that.

–

Fighting was the only thing you’ve ever been good at. It’s all you’ve wanted to do since you were little, following in your father’s footsteps from his career as a professional in the MMA. You were basically raised in the ring. It was your sanctuary. Your safe space, where you could channel all your emotions and embrace them. You loved it.

Of course, that was back when you were fighting for fun. But now, you’re fighting for your life.

It was awful. You hated fighting in these shitty underground rings, with little to no rules or regulations, being leered at by older men while you fought tooth and nail, desperately needing to get by.

You tapped your foot against the counter impatiently, gazing at the older man sitting across from you in the makeshift bank clerk’s office. He was chubby, with greying hair and an ever growing bald spot on the back of his head. You weren’t exactly a fan, but he was the one who took the bets, collected all the money, and gave you a decent cut of it. So you were patient, letting him finish with his online poker game, knowing that once he was done, you would get paid.

“Here’s your cut.” He slid an envelope to you through the opening under the glass window. You tore it open, counting the bills.

You frowned as you finished, placing the envelope back on the counter. “You’re short, by a million at least.”

The older man didn’t even bother to look up from the monitor, leaning back in his seat and taking another puff from his cigar. “No, that’s the right amount.”

“Bullshit.”

“Listen sweetheart, money’s been tight ever since the cops busted that underground casino down the road, and now they’re trying to sniff around my place too. Not to mention people have been going missing, probably on the run or lying low. That’s the best you’re going to do for a while until everything calms down.”

You scoffed. “I could make more money fighting with a hand tied behind my back. Speaking of, what the hell was that back there? That girl you had me fight was way too new. She could’ve died.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining. You won and you got your money. If you don’t like it, you can go somewhere else. And if you need the money that badly, I’m sure there’s much easier things you can do to get it.” He sneered, his eyes wandering your body.

Disgusting prick.

You didn’t answer him, just grabbed your money and stormed off.

–

You couldn’t remember the last time your mother had been healthy. It had been years. She had been overlooked by the lesser doctors, the only ones you could afford with how little you had, appointment after appointment of misdiagnosis and lack of treatment causing her health to decline and progress into the late stages of pancreatic cancer, finally diagnosed almost a full year after she first got sick.

One of the strongest people you’ve ever known now looked so frail and weak, lying in front of you in the hospital bed, her body thin, bags under her eyes, her cheeks sunken from malnutrition, a side effect from the chemotherapy. The only time she didn’t seem in pain was when she rested, looking so peaceful, breathing gentle breaths, followed by the soft beep from the monitor. You reached over and took her hand, holding it softly.

She awoke from the contact, opening her eyes slowly and smiling at you. “Come to visit again, hm?”

You nodded. She gave your hand a weak squeeze, gazing out the window, noticing that there was a considerable amount of daylight left. “Shouldn’t you be working right now?”

“I got the day off.” You lied.

“Oh really?” She pulled her hand from yours, pinching your chin where a noticeable bruise had started to form, probably from today’s fight. You winced. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice this? Or the cuts on your knuckles? I’m not an idiot. What happened to your job as a waitress? Don’t tell me you got fired already.”

You sighed. “It wasn’t my fault. That place was hardly paying me anything anyway. It wasn’t worth it.”

You tried to work normal jobs. You really did. But no matter what, something always went wrong.

Your most recent venture was waitressing at some shitty dive bar. One of the patrons ran his hand under your skirt, causing you to throw him through a table and almost break his arm. Most of your jobs went like that, with someone always pushing you over the edge and causing you to snap.

You always have had an awful temper. Your Dad liked to say you had fire running through your veins, bubbling up and boiling over. As you got older, you hoped it would get better, but life just got harder and harder, and it made everything worse.

“You promised me that you would stop fighting. I’m not going to be around forever, you know. You have to take care of yourself. I need to know that you’re going to be okay when I’m gone.” Her touch went soft, stroking her fingers over the bruise before pulling away, grimacing in discomfort as she lied back.

“I know, but you don’t have to worry about me, Mama. Right now, it’s my job to take care of you. I just need a little more money and then I can pay for your next treatment. Only a few more fights and-”

She shook her head. “You’re always so damn stubborn, just like your father. Having to do things your own way and never letting anyone help.”

You gazed down at your lap, bowing your head. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She sighed softly, reaching over for your hand again. “I’m hard on you because I care. I can’t lose you. You’re all I have left. Please, promise me you’ll be safe. If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

She was begging, and pleading. You could see the desperation, the love, the need in her eyes. You gave her hand a soft squeeze. “Okay, Mama. I promise. I’ll be safe.”

She fell asleep not long after that, your conversation probably wearing her out. You made her worry so much, sometimes, you think it would be better if you didn’t visit at all. Maybe she would be better off without you. But you knew that wasn’t true. She was your mother and your best friend. She was all you had now. You needed her, and she needed you.

You pressed a small kiss to her forehead, before you got up and left.

–

You sat back on your bench as you waited for the train to arrive. The day had been long and dreadful, and all you wanted to do was to lay in your bed. Your bones ached with fatigue, your muscles burning and sore, and there was still that throbbing headache you had from your last fight. You prayed it wasn’t another concussion, that was the last thing you needed right now. No matter what, you knew you had to push through it.

Your phone buzzed. You gazed at the cracked screen, feeling a dread pool in your stomach. You knew exactly who it was.

Unknown: Your monthly payment is due tomorrow at 8. Don’t forget

You: Can’t we push it back? I need a little more time

Unknown: No

Unknown: Same meeting place as last time, tomorrow at 10. 8 million and no less. Be there and bring the money or else.

The last thing you needed right now was the loan sharks breathing down your neck too. You ran your fingers over the envelope in your pocket. All the money you had saved for your mother was once again going to have to go down the drain. Snatched away by those damn bastards that have been terrorizing you for a better half of your life now, blaming you for a debt that wasn’t even yours.

“Fuck!” You shouted, kicking over a nearby trash can. Frustration overwhelmed you, along with anxiety, desperation, and hopelessness. You ran your hands through your hair, feeling the tears well up in your eyes, trying to catch your breath and calm down

You stared at the ground. A pair of polished shoes stepped into your vision. “Rough day?”

You looked up at the man standing before you. Tall and handsome, nice suit and tie, briefcase in hand…a salesman. He offered you a charming smile. “Maybe I could be of assistance.”

[nhoirr]

𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖆𝖑𝖑

— 𝔖𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰

drabbles. “GOJO HOURS."

“LOVESICK LOVER — !” : When he's away from you.

GOJO SATORU is not a patient man, especially when he's kept long time away from you.

'I miss you,' 13:42

your phone dings with a message you've been anticipating all this while, all this afternoon you spent fidgeting in place; waiting for something, or well—someone.

'i'll come home soon.' 13:43

the message rings out from a sender that was no other than your lover—GOJO SATORU, who seems to have been impatient at work; he's been gone for less than an hour, though you couldn't blame him when you felt the same.

'I want to be with you." 13:43 — not even two seconds later, your phone gets bombarded with messages.

Often it would be like this when he's gone, busy with exorcising curses.. hours to days of no contact, to sudden barrages of messages come in endless downpour; you couldn't even begin to count how many times he'd say — 'I want to come home.' every time, and every moment he has.

its silly, how he makes the butterflies burst in your stomach. You wonder how he feels so near when he's so far—perhaps distance really does make the heart grow fonder.

'Hey, don't leave me on read!' 13:45

At his reminder, you can't help but imagine him saying this. Bickering about your imprudence to dare leave him on read, you quickly tap away at your phone.

—'take care of yourself,' wouldn't be much too cliche to say right..? should you be adding anything more? it felt like your message was too short, maybe you should throw in a—'ill wait for you.' too, in there.

.. okay maybe too much—you internally cringe at your own words, attempting to delete the message.

Though unfortunately, your finger slips to press send a bit too hastily, not even given a chance to delete the message when he's seen it in a heartbeat; you could only close your eyes and pray he wouldn't tease it out of you all day, he wouldn't let you live this down.

at long last—your phone dings and you couldn't help the curiosity, peeking reluctantly at what he had to say.

'I don't think I can wait.' 13:50

but you could guess he probably won't be able to come home tonight; he probably has a lot to finish, he wont be home anytime soon..

so.. that makes you wonder, during this time of night—just when you were about to close your eyes..

"who.." Theres sudden motion, noise of shuffling before the sheets slowly dip and you sink into the softness of the bed. Although your eye lips felt heavy, you peel open your eyes—the blurred figure of a man answers with his voice, "Are you asleep yet?" he—the familiar voice of a man you've been waiting for all day, whispers in your ear.

He hovers above you, leaning over so much that the bed creaks, "Don't sleep on me, sweetheart." he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, another one to your neck—till he littered your body, every inch of your skin his lips could find; his lips latches on to you, as if a leech.

and one last time, he presses a long kiss to the side of your lips—as if asking for you to wake up through your groggy state of mind.

"keep your pretty eyes open for me, will ya?"

through your hazy vision, you could make out that charming smile of his that you've engraved into your mind—the image of a man you love so dearly, your heart treasures so.

and you know he loves you too—just as much.

your phone dings with his last text you never got to read before he came home—

'I love you.' 24:59

your impatient lover probably couldn't wait another day to come home, not when you were waiting for him—not when he'd miss your welcome greeting, not when he still hadn't kissed you goodnight.

and god, that was all he could always think of when you're not in his moment of sight.

'I'm coming home.' 00:09

how unfortunate, that the moment you wake in the morning after, you would never get the chance to read this message.

©NHOIRR — DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE NOR PLAGIARIZE ANY OF MY WORKS!

[📨] — Yes I'm working on the series, but i've been thinking about this scenario for a while.. I had to get it out of my head somehow.

<-. come back to navigation?

[lxshoxk]

Hello! It seems I like men in skirts and thigh-high stockings. Who do you think would look better like that in the One Piece universe?

YESSSSSSSSSS!!! Omg this has to be one of the best asks that has ever been sent to me. I'm LIVING.

And, I have...many thoughts. So...so many thoughts. To be quite honest, I think a lot of men from the One Piece universe would eat a skirt right the fuck UP.

I think we both know I'd have some favorite contenders...which, *cough* kid pirates *cough*. If we're counting Kilts it's over for me. Kid hands down--I already KNOW how good he looks in one of those and i'd kill to see him in a mini skirt and thigh-highs. Another very obvious contender (for me) is Wire. I meaaaaann, those little shorts are one step away from a mini skirt in my eyes and he already wears thigh-high fishnets. Please ~

Honestly, I think any of the Kid Pirates men could realistically pull off a skirt. Id throw heat in for good measure too but ill stick with three pictures since thats how many can fit side by side.

But the possibilities here?!

Kalgara's outfit is also like...one step away from being a skirt with thigh-highs and I would NOT mind if he just turned those pants right into them becuase he is FINE. Meanwhile, Wyper just needs to throw on some stockings. Come on.

Hawkins. Cabaji. Laffitte? LAFFITTE. Ideo. Vigaro. Just look at their fashion in general? I feel like not only would they look good but they would all style it WELL. The obvious Izou?? Get out of that kimono pleaseeeeeee let me see them legs 😩

Crap. I think Imma hve to reign myself in here. Cause this post is getting long and I am realizing I could uh...I could go ON. Maybe this is my call to actually do those anatomy studies i just keep putting off cause 👀

Thank you so much for this ask it was so fun! I'm not sure what you were expecting but I hope this satisfies. Oh CRAP! I forgot that when I first saw this I started drawing you a picture for it!! It's wire in a skirt but im not happy with the arm pose but....I still want to finish it but I'll post the wip here cause I'm too impatient and want to answer this now:

and yes i absolutely drew the elmo meme thing explicitly to respond to this.

[destinedhope]

piggy backing off my last two post i do kinda have a fic idea inspired by penelope and odysses, this is gonna be completely different then the edit ideas i had, again ill try to explain as coherently as i can sorry in advance. anyone is free to use this idea im probably never gonna get around to actually writing it myself

shortly after sealing DBK under a mountain, the celestial heavens(sorry im sleepy and i cant remember if thats the proper name) want to keep wukong on a leash and control him, to do this they come up with the plan to basically force him to marry a celestial and if he refuses there will be consequences for FFM, to avoid this he agrees on the condition that he doesnt have to choose a suitor until he has a fully trained successor, something he doesnt think would ever happen but he needs something to give him more time and freedom(hes still grieving macaque who he had been married to before their fight that killed him).

all the suitors come and go over the years(basically like once a year or so they all stay at FFM for a time and he has to spend time with them) and them he meets mk, who he honestly wants to be his successor, but hes still not ready to choose a suitor, so he does procrastinate as much as hes allowed with training mk, the celestials getting more and more impatient as mks power grows and wukong still hasnt declared him fully trained

and then everything with the LBD happens and macaque is back, but all that happens as canon so there a lot of tension, and wukong hasnt told anyone about the deal that the celestials bound him too.

maybe the crew and macaque dont learn about this deal until season 4 when azure lion finds out about it(or maybe they find out sooner or not until after season five idk lots of options) after killing the jade emperor and tries to uphold the deal be making himself the only suitor(we all know how some of these people get with wukong, hes to pretty for his own good), even after azure and the jade emperor are dead wukong is still bound by this deal, season 4 and 5 happen semi normally other then this being a background problem and maybe the suitors make a nuisance of themselves more during season 5 plot, but they really dont start putting the pressure on wukong until after the world is saved

something something macaque is the only exception to the rule of marrying outside the celestial suitors(since you know they were married before but he has to prove that to the magic or whatever that wukong is bound with), something something wukong makes a challenge for the suitors and they try to pull some stupid shit because they cant do the challenge and then macaque gets to go all odysses on their asses and wukong is falling in love all over again from the sidelines, something something forgiving eachother of past mistakes and they live happily ever after,

basically a lot of angst, and comfort and found family bonding with wukong and crew, shadowpeach reconciliation, cause as much as i love the shadowpeach aspect of this, i love the crew/mk trying to help and comfort and getting mad on his behalf just as much, also yes both mk and the other monkeys are technically in the place of telemachus in this

[theladyofshalott1989]

Okay, I have something in mind and feel free to alter, remove, add - etc to make yourself feel happy with it :)

plot: I was thinking male MC (reader, house neutral although not slytherin due to the following) sneaking into the slytherin common room with an invisibility potion (thank Garreth) while slytherin house is out partying, to steal something of sebastians (being rivals). what he didn’t realise however was that sebastian had gotten detention and couldn’t go to the party, making him and ominis enter the common room while he was still inside - and because garreth isn’t the BEST at potions, the time duration of that potion wasn’t as long as they’d hoped..

he gets caught by sebastian and ominis and the two interrogates him and it ultimately ends up in a threesome (if you’re fine with that, otherwise ominis can leave lol) with elements of overstim and sub reader if that’s your thing?

thank you! have a great day pls, everybody deserves a great day :)

Your wish is my command, Anon! 💚

"Trouble on My Left, Trouble on My Right"

Sebastian Sallow/Male Reader & Ominis Gaunt/Male Reader

Synopsis: You came for what was his. Instead, you found yourself between what’s theirs. (Or: in and out, leave no trace? Perhaps, but not exactly in the way you had planned.)

Rating: Explicit‼️

Tags: POV Second Person, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Top Sebastian Sallow, Top Ominis Gaunt, Sassy Ominis Gaunt, Jealous Sebastian Sallow, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Sexual Overstimulation, Banter, Possessive Behavior, Submission, Voyeurism, Male Reader-Insert

Word Count: 2,300

[ AO3 Link ]

Fun Fact (minor spoiler): The concept of a teddy bear wasn't actually invented until 1902, hence my not referring to Sebastian's bear with that verbiage. (Yes, I did Google it. The things I do for explicit one-shots! Haha.) Also, who knew that the teddy bear was named after American President Theodore ("Teddy") Roosevelt? I certainly didn't!

You hadn't seen this coming. Two Slytherins, completely at your mercy. Although... maybe it was the other way around.

One lounged across the bed, generous cock out, fingers drumming impatiently upon the dark green duvet. The other pressed against the wall, your mouth attending ferociously to his cock. 

Yes, this was definitely unexpected.

You'd started out the evening with something quite different in mind. A simple heist, of sorts.

Steal the one possession Sebastian Sallow, your ever-infuriating, but also decidedly attractive, deliciously addictive, annoyingly perfect—Merlin did you hate admitting it, even if only in your head—rival, would actually miss. The one possession that, if taken, might truly rattle him.

His stuffed bear. 

Or so Anne claimed. Anne, who despite everything, hadn't lost her taste for mischief. Anne, who might've let that secret slip a little too easily, perhaps because of a tiny, ill-timed crush. Shame you didn't find the womanly form, for want of a better word, all that spellbinding. Not that it mattered tonight.

At least you'd thought.

"Why does he get all the attention?" Sebastian whinged, his chocolate brown eyes glinting in the warm flicker of the gas lamp resting on the nightstand to his right. Even Sebastian's whining held a certain sort of allure—damn him! Damn him to Azkaban and back! Not literally, obviously. 

Ominis released a long-suffering sigh. The kind of sigh that could fill the entire castle and still not hold all his exasperation. Sebastian's mid-pleasure interruption was probably more than just a habit. It was probably more like a ritual. Presumably, of course, although it made a certain sort of sense. 

"Because some of us know how to wait our turn," you muttered, a difficult feat since your mouth was still stuffed full of Ominis's cock. Whether anyone actually understood you was debatable. 

Apparently someone did, because Sebastian shot back, "Wait my turn? Darling, I don't wait for anyone. I take what I want."

Darling, hm? 

You very much wanted to ignore him, but when it came to Sebastian, that was difficult, nigh on impossible even. Ominis would have to wait, at least for a moment or two. With a soft pop, you pulled away from him. He sighed again, clearly unamused, as you settled back on your haunches. 

"I don't see you making a move, Seb," you drawled. "What happened to that relentless determination, that cockiness?" You waggled your eyebrows. 

Sebastian was moving now, stalking forward, dropping low to seize your shoulders, hard enough to bruise. As he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, he mouthed, "Don't start," then caught your right earlobe between his teeth in a quick, sharp nip. You gasped, knees buckling beneath you. Good thing he was holding you up, not so much supporting you as imprisoning you, shackling you in place. 

Oh how the tables had turned.

No more than half an hour ago, you'd slipped into this very room unnoticed, practically radiating smug satisfaction. Garreth's potion had worked like a charm, quite literally, although it wasn't an invisibility charm, but a subtler kind of vanishing act. An "ignore me if you see me" effect, as he'd put it. He called it his Wallflower Potion. 

You had to hand it to Garreth. No one could say he wasn't clever. Just not always reliably so, which had soon become painfully clear. ('The potion will last a full hour,'—your arse.)

Still, to be fair, not everything could be blamed on his half-baked potion. 

In hindsight, you probably should've done your due diligence. Sebastian was hardly a model student, after all. He was too much of a rakish cad for that. And while the rest of Slytherin House was off at the Three Broomsticks, celebrating the completion of their N.E.W.T.s, downing butterbeers and dancing like there was no tomorrow, Sebastian had been serving detention, with Ominis, of all people. 

Or so you'd overheard as they'd wandered through the door. Sebastian, of course, was the one muttering about it, clearly quite put out, the extrovert that he was.

You briefly considered how Ominis and Sebastian had both ended up in detention, together, but you didn't have much time to mull it over, for you were mere seconds away from being caught bear-handed by the devil himself, flanked by his angelic—ignoring his heritage, that is—blind shadow. 

Surprise!

So, how had you ended up here? Here, now, with Sebastian shoving you against his bed, ass up, conjuring only the smallest daub of lubrication, too quick to entirely cloak your entrance but just enough that it wouldn't be horribly painful when he—"Ah!"—shoved his cock inside you. It didn't take long before you'd adjusted to the firm pressure of him and were shouting out, "Merlin, yes!", making it all too clear that you wanted this. That you had wanted this since you ever met him. Had he wanted it too? 

Huh. And here you thought he only saw you as an irritating schoolmate to best in various subjects: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, dueling, spider obliteration, just to name a few. 

Perhaps you were wrong. Perhaps you had been wrong all along.

Ominis hissed a choice curse or two from behind the two of you, apparently none too pleased that Sebastian had pulled you away for such an, allegedly, time-consuming act. Sebastian was too busy thrusting to pay him any mind, grunting with each earth-shattering movement, the bed creaking in reply. 

Speaking of busyness, you were too busy trying to breathe, bracing yourself as his cock traveled deep, deep, deeper inside you, so deep it was punishing; Sebastian was hammering away at you like his very life depended on it. It was a bit ridiculous to be totally honest, but you didn't have any complaints. Why would you? Sebastian's determined resolve was far too stimulating to allow any other thought, not even of the unwelcome variety. Far too stimulating and then some. 

Sebastian's cock made its last triumphant hurrah. He moaned, a helpless sound, so unlike him that it made your heart leap into your throat, but then warmth flooded your insides, pooled inside you, and you lost all sense of time and place…  

Until Sebastian released himself and collapsed on his side, pulling you along with him. 

For the briefest moment, Sebastian had been part of you, as one with you as anyone could possibly be—physically, that is—and then, faster than a reluctantly cast Crucio, it had ended, his cum dripping out of you and soaking into the bedsheets. 

But it wasn't over. No, not yet. Ominis made certain of that.

He conjured two hand towels and tossed them. Both towels somehow landed squarely on your bare stomachs, slick with sweat, still heaving as you both tried to recover your breath. 

"Clean yourselves up," he said. 

Sebastian didn't budge, but he did manage to shoot back, "Not even a 'please'?" 

"I'm saving my 'pleases' for people who actually listen. Like him," he added, nodding toward you as you sat up, already doing as Ominis commanded. 

In all honesty, it hadn't quite been a conscious choice. When it came to anything of a sexual nature, obedience seemed etched into your very bones. Odd, sure, what with everything you'd managed to achieve at Hogwarts in the short time you'd attended, but true. 

Deed done, you rose, a bit unsteadily, to your feet. Ominis took your hands, gave them a firm squeeze, and led you to his side of the room, which was far less chaotic, his bed still immaculate, not a wrinkle in sight. That wouldn't last long though. He pushed you onto it, clambered atop you, and brought his mouth to yours, all but devouring you. 

You could hear Sebastian puttering around in the corner, then… silence. You were too lost in Ominis to glance Sebastian's way, but some part of you hoped he was watching.

There was a fleeting moment where it all felt too good, too exhilarating, too much, to be real, like your body had moved faster than your sense of disbelief. You hadn't even wanted to kiss Ominis until he'd been the one to confront you first about sneaking into their room, until he'd been the one to demand answers with that quiet, dangerous focus of his. 

"Explain yourself," he'd said, his voice taut. 

You'd flinched, though, rather inconveniently, your trousers had gone tight at the exact same moment. "I—well, erm—" you'd stammered, your grip stiffening around the stuffed bear you were hiding behind your back.

"You're stammering. And you're hard. Interesting combination."

By Jove! How in Merlin's name did he know? you'd thought, your mind racing through all the potential possibilities. Was Ominis's wand really as sentient as Sebastian had explained in your fifth year? 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his eyes locking on you, traveling down to the offending body part. He smirked. Typical. "Subtle, very subtle," he teased. 

In hindsight, it made perfect sense that their interrogation—if it could even be called that—had such an effect on you. Confrontation was a rare occurrence for you these days. Most people steered clear, well aware that you were far more powerful than the average wizard.

But then again, most people weren't Sebastian Sallow or Ominis Gaunt. Clearly.

You dropped Sebastian's bear quietly behind you, praying they hadn't noticed, then stepped forward, toward Sebastian, a question in your eyes. Sebastian tilted his head, murmured, "Alright then," and just like that, the whole encounter had begun.

Now, back in the present, Ominis freed your lips from captivity, and your mouth hurried to his cock. Likewise, his large but slender hands made their steady way to you, settling on the shaft of yours. The two of you attended to each other—Ominis was, unsurprisingly, more generous than Sebastian—moving in tandem, his touch insistent, but also somehow gentler. You climaxed in unison: Ominis's pleasure quiet and controlled, yours loud and guttural. Sebastian had apparently joined in as well, for mere moments later, you heard him moan, low, nearly a growl, sounding like the bear of a young man that he was.

The bear! 

You tensed at the thought of it. You still wanted to claim Sebastian's most beloved possession—needed to, really, maybe even more so now than before, especially after Sebastian—and Ominis!—had claimed you in their own way. That had been the whole point of this grand escapade, hadn't it? 

"Now that that's done," Sebastian said, yanking you back to your senses. "Why were you in our room again?" 

You met his gaze, a wicked glint in your eyes. "Who says I wasn't here to do exactly what we just accomplished?"

Sebastian barked out a laugh. He turned to Ominis, who was sitting to your left beside you, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Well, whatever the reason," Sebastian said, waving his hand casually in the air, "you've certainly earned the right to return, should you feel inclined."

"Noted."

"But next time," Ominis piped in, "a little notice wouldn't hurt. Perhaps an owl, for formality's sake."

You leaned back, letting out a slow breath. "I'll consider it." You rose to your feet and glanced around for your scattered clothing.

As Sebastian and Ominis did the same, you smiled upon observing that your off-white shirt had—miracle of miracles!—ended up draped over Sebastian's bear. You slipped it on last, the fabric cool against your skin, and tucked the bear carefully behind your back. You backed toward the door, ever so cautious, hoping that your two Slytherins were too distracted to find your movement suspicious.

But just as your hand closed around the doorknob, Sebastian spoke. "You're hiding something."

You froze.

Ominis didn't even pause the careful fastening of the last button on his shirt. "It's Sebastian's bear, isn't it?"

Damn! How?  

You offered your best attempt at wide-eyed innocence. "What bear?"

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "My bear, hm?" Well, at least he didn't seem too angry.

You shrugged, backing up another step. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Funny," Ominis said, stepping past you to open the door himself. As he did, his hand brushed against the concealed lump beneath your shirt. "Lying now, hm? After everything we did for you?" 

You sighed dramatically and tugged at your shirt, revealing just enough of the bear's ear to prove your guilt... to Sebastian at least, maybe even to Ominis, for all you knew. You were severely doubting now that he was actually blind. Perhaps he had been pulling a long con the past three years. You wouldn't put it past him.

"Fine," you said through a pout. "You caught me out. You win." But you didn't make a move to return the bear.

Sebastian laughed, then, to your complete and utter shock, waved you off.

"Keep my bear warm, then," he said. 

You blinked. "I intend to." You took a hesitant backwards step over the threshold, still not quite certain if he was being serious. 

You took another, and another, until you realized Sebastian had been serious. He wasn't stopping you. You still picked up your pace. Just in case. 

Ominis's voice trailed after you. "Send that owl next time, won't you?"

You paused, glanced back at the two of them, hair tousled, cheeks flushed, entirely too pleased with themselves—and with you.

"Don't worry," you said with a grin. "Next time, you'll know when I'm coming." 

Were you being entirely truthful? Perhaps, but also, perhaps not. That was up to you to decide. 

And with that, you disappeared down the corridor, stolen bear tucked under your arm, a dozen more dangerous ideas already forming in that brilliant mind of yours.

The door closed behind you with a soft click.

This particular adventure was over. But the game?

It was only just beginning.

[blueberry-ink-93]

i might just go insane

i *need* to know everything ever about their marriage was it toxic did they love each other was it only a marriage of chance/ convenience or did they find solace in one another or even grief was it one sided unrequited love met with disinterest from the start or did he lose interest with time was it all of the above or none i- *explodes*

--

fr tho im reading plutarch's alcibiades (internet archive classics my beloved) and the would be meet cute is hysterical to me idk why. was it love at first sight (and who could resist such ethereal beauty?) or was there any sort of doubt or disdain for his ways? and if so did she fall for him despite herself or was she willing to let all notions leave her in favour of devotion to her husband? did she care at all? did any of it matter when she was the wife of the most beautiful man ever?

"Hipparete was a virtuous and dutiful wife, but, at last, growing impatient of the outrages done to her by her husband's continual entertaining of courtesans, as well strangers as Athenians, she departed from him and retired to her brother's house. Alcibiades seemed not at all concerned at this, and lived on still in the same luxury; but the law requiring that she should deliver to the archon in person, and not by proxy, the instrument by which she claimed a divorce, when, in obedience to the law, she presented herself before him to perform this, Alcibiades came in, caught her up, and carried her home through the market-place, no one daring to oppose him nor to take her from him. She continued with him till her death, which happened not long after, when Alcibiades had gone to Ephesus. Nor is this violence to be thought so very enormous or unmanly. For the law, in making her who desires to be divorced appear in public, seems to design to give her husband an opportunity of treating with her, and endeavouring to retain her."

so many feelings here. she loved him but how much of it was love for what was and not what she saw or chose to see? (i mean to say was it love or infatuation on her part). im well aware women had little if any choice and say in the matter and that they had pretty strict societally ordained frameworks to fit in, but like. them. what were they like.

did he see her as his wife (beyond property) and care for her to any degree or was it his image only that mattered? would a divorce lead to his name being potentially tarnished even in the slightest (ngl kind of doubt it would hes too pretty lol. but also misogyny. would anyone bat an eye?) did he fall out of love? was their any love to begin with?

did he at all abstain from seeking courtesans or did the marriage not get in the way of his previous life style? did he care that she was fed up and wanted to leave him (had anyone ever left him before?) and no longer worship the grounds he walked on (has that ever happened before?)

did he feel hurt? offended? did he care at all that a posession of his demanded freedom? was he upset? amused? did they talk about it? if he were to reconcile would she accept of her own will or be coerced? by him or herself regardless. did he humor her? did he laugh?

was there no further word on the matter when they reached their home? their bed? she was his until he saw fit, bound to him by marriage and maybe love still. was his choice to keep her born of ill will or affection? or even duty since she was the mother of their child. if the word held significance to him at all. was he a good and present father? i have no idea lol. assuming they had a kid i also dont know lol

*explodes again*