#Four can fit into so many picture man it's delightful

[graves-doodles]

Ya know when those mice fall asleep in flowers? Yeah.

[cibeeorsomeshit]

All My Kisses (ao3)

Summary:

Stolas and Blitzø goes to a Goetia party and proceed to use their mouth way too much

Notes:

This is inspired by the #fullmooncountdownkiss by @zero_lawliet

------

Stolas zoned out at the fifth gossip in the last two hours. Apparently, Duke Eli got caught red-handed trying to steal a vase at a party last week. Separ’s servant asked for a raise and, satan-forbid, sick leave, when has Hell become overrun with lazy snowflakes? And oh, have you heard about Sytry’s, ahem (at this they all leaned in to listen closely as the speaker spoke in what Solas assumed meant to be sotto voce but ended up being more so of a falsetto) unfortunate botched haircut? 

Stolas put his hands to his mouth, all four eyes widening in dramatic worry, “Oh, I do hope he survives that, sounds terminal.” Then turned away when they glared at him. Heaven-wept, he was only minding his business and these royals decided to converge and forcibly include him in their conversation, now he had to find somewhere else where no one would bother him. A Herculean task at a Goetia party, that was for certain. 

Stolas got to a shaded area of the garden, though it didn’t take long for him to be discovered. Something snaked up his thigh and waist, so familiar by this point Stolas wasn’t even startled. He tried to hide his small smile by taking a sip of his lemonade. The tail snuck into his gauzy summer robe briefly before ducking out, sending a shiver down Stolas’ spin despite the heat.

“Having fun?” Blitzø teased. He was holding a plate of spaghetti and somehow none of it made it onto his linen white shirt. He must have been making extra effort today for Stolas’ sake. 

“Now I am.” Stolas bent down to rest a palm on Blitzø’s face and bumped his beak to his cheek lightly. How nice was it for Blitzø to remind him what a handsome partner Stolas had. The breezy shirt and fitted slacks might have been for the theme of the party, though Blitzø managed to look like the clothes were designed for him in mind. The top button was undone. It wasn’t when they left the house, now Stolas’ eyes were fused to the little triangle that showed off the toned pecs underneath. 

“Eyes up, we’re at your fancy pants gathering of prudes.” Blitzø tilted Stolas’ face up with a finger under his chin, then his finger continued upward and gently flicked back Stolas’ sun hat, exposing his forehead and planting a quick kiss there. 

Stolas hooted softly, delighted. His mouth tingled with the urge to return the gesture, it was almost unbearable to stop himself, but he knew they wouldn’t have been able to stop at one kiss.

“I just need to survive another hour then we can go,” Stolas sighed. “If I had to hear another gossip about someone’s deformed toe I might actually abdicate.”

“Oh, you mean that ugly Prince Bar—“ Stolas clamped his palm down on Blitzø’ mouth to stop him as a group of guests walked past them. 

“Not so loud!”

“What? As if everyone wasn’t just sharing pictures of it.” Blitzø’s voice came muffled from underneath Stolas’ palm. 

“Unbelievable.” Stolas removed his hand and said wryly, “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

Blitzø shrugged and shoved a forkful of pasta in his mouth. “Good blackmail materials.” 

Stolas snorted. “Of course.” He looked out to the garden of royals, many of them ignoring Stolas and Blitzø, some of them attempted to pretend the last few years never happened and tried to get back into Stolas’ good grace by saying how adorable they found Blitzø and Stolas to be. “Funny how not long ago we were the main subject of gossip.”

“We still are, babe. Now because they’re jealous of us.” Blitzø looked up at Stolas, eyes bright and adoring with sauce on the corner of his lips. “Did I tell you how hot you look today?”

Stolas flushed. Good grief, he never would get old of being praised by this man, was he? “Many times already.”

“Not enough times because fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.” Blitzø looked him up and down shamelessly. “Good thing my pants are loose.”

Stolas choked on his laughter. “Darling!”

“Or else it would look like this.” Blitzø gestured toward his plate. Somehow he had managed to make two meatballs and a long sausage the subject of his artistic expression and Stolas had to use all his willpower to not burst out laughing right there. 

“You're going to make me laugh,” Stolas pleaded, tugging the rim of his hat down to hide his wobbling mouth.

“Duh, that’s kinda my thing.” Blitzø shoved a whole meatball in his mouth and Stolas finally let himself break, not because the act of meatball-shoving was particularly funny but because he was suddenly struck with how stupidly happy he was. 

Blitzø grinned in that soppy way whenever he made Stolas laugh. There was more sauce on his face now. Stolas reached out to wipe it off with his fingertips. When he tried to move his hand Blitzø caught it, turned his face in and planted a warm kiss in the middle of his palm, and another, pecks and pecks until Stolas was again back to a blushing, fluffy mess of feathers.

“You said it was okay to kiss hands at these places,” Blitzø glanced up through his eyelashes, still pressed against Stolas’ palm, hot lips dragging across those increasingly sensitive flesh with each word.

“You know I meant the back…” Stolas said weakly.

“Hmm.” Blitzø nuzzled into his palm, seeming content to stay there. “I can stop?”

Stolas knew they were being looked at. Probably becoming the subject of gossip again. Good, they were so much more interesting than vase-stealing, salary-denying, ugly-hair royals anyway. 

“No.” Stolas leaned down to whisper like they were planning a prank, allowing a carnal grin spread across his face. “Jealousy is such a wonderful aphrodisiac, don’t you agree?”

He received a gentle nip to his hand. Stolas scooped Blitzø up and nipped the imp’s neck in retaliation, and finally, finally their lips met, pressing until it felt like the summer heat was going to fuse them together. Not that either of them would mind.

[walker-extended-universe]

Walkerverse Hiatus Creations

Week 3- Favorite Episode

Walker: Independence submission- 1x04 Pax Romana

“Pax Romana” stands out to me for a number of reasons. Yes, one of those reasons is getting a drag musical performance from Katie Findlay. But there is so much more to this episode than that. I’m going to list a few reasons why this episode is (currently) my favorite on the WIndy roster

1. Lore Expansion:

This episode takes place during the Founder’s Day celebration, a day to commemorate when Independence was officially incorporated as a town. It’s a celebration enjoyed by those who are old enough to remember those days (like Francis Reyes) and the children and newcomers who reap the benefits. This setup is a good segue into the information we learn about the inner workings of the town, such as the Town Council who make decisions about the rules and budget of Independence.

2. Davidson Depth: 

This episode is also our first look into the complexity of Tom Davidson’s character and a peek at his backstory, all delivered through the delightful Aunt Teresa Davidson. For the first time, we’re left to wonder if Tom really is a cold-blooded killer who’s only out for himself. 

The most interesting tidbit we got was Teresa revealing that Tom was kept in an asylum and was dealing with mental health problems. Truthfully, this episode made me fall in love with him and I remain impressed with how Greg Hovanissen was able to go from “Scared little boy” with Aunt Teresa to “Calculated Businessman” with Kate

3. And Then There Were Four: 

Speaking of Kate, this is also the episode where Kate officially joined our merry band of heroes, though she wasn’t too happy about it. She’s more than happy to help Abby uncover the trouble that the Davidsons are causing but Hoyt and Calian are a liability. Abigail does defend them but Kate is still skeptical, especially of Hoyt. It’s not until she sees the Davidsons in action that she’s willing to go all-in with them.

4. There’s Something About Hagan: 

Which brings us to the most heartbreaking part of the episode- Hagan selling the hotel to protect Kate and lying to her about it. 

Over the past few episodes, we’ve seen Hagan and Kate banter with each other in a dynamic that more resembles equal partners than boss and employee. While we still don’t know what their history is with each other, exactly, we know that Hagan respects her enough to listen to her about his business and cares for her enough to sell it. 

Mark Sheppard said during a convention panel that Hagan sees Kate as a daughter-figure and that really shines through in this episode. I can only hope that the future holds a reconciliation between the two.

5. We Need to Talk About Kai

This episode also brought some surprising backstory for Kai with the inclusion of Amos Acorn. Though we knew that nothing and no one in Independence is quite what they seem, learning that Kai had such a violent past was a shock that added a whole different dimension to his character. This is a man that once killed for a woman he loved, a woman he tried to save, someone who is no longer in the picture. Between his attraction to Kate and his past coming back to haunt him later, there are so many different ways this reveal could take us.

6. Tom Davidson the Musical: 

Okay I can’t talk about why this episode is great and not gush about this bit.

After figuring out that Tom is gunning for a position on the Town Council, Kate devises a plan to do something to make him look bad at the Founder’s Day celebration in the hopes that if he has a poor reputation, then he won’t be allowed to join. The plan: a musical number calling out all of Tom’s faults in front of the whole town at Hagan’s show.

The fact that she was able to write a song (lyrics and melody) AND get costumes fitted AND put together choreography in what couldn’t have been more than 6 hours in is nothing less than incredible, especially for such a flawless performance. Katie Findlay has an amazing voice and they looked even better in the Tom Davidson cosplay. Kate was also in her element as an entertainer and worked the crowd like a pro.

We were even treated to this moment which has lived in my head rent free ever since:

Even though this performance didn’t have the desired effect, it was fun to watch and it’s a very catchy song that gets stuck in my head at least once a day. Bravo!

[whatwwwwwww]

[ID: Pictures a book, four pages. The book reads,

Having read the charter, I am fully aware that anything lesbians decide to do in theory or as a group as opposed to individually, one lesbian at a time is and must be completely invulnerable to criticism. If you'd attended the meeting at which this was decided, after the votes were tallied again that second time, you, too, would have learned that whatever women decide to do, regardless of the patriarchy and all barbaric rules learned under its employ, is automatically and incontrovertibly superior to any suggested alternative. Like every system of checks and balances, of course, there are assets to assigning roles for specific human beings. Women who considered their options in the 1950s, for instance, no doubt found their burdens vastly lightened by being spared the anxiety of making any choices about the future other than which room in the house to vacuum first. Yet there are undeniable problems with fitting the multiple facets of human nature into neat slots. This applies to the passive wallowing and/or naïve indulgence in the present day of what in the past was for many a limiting series of behaviors, one brought about not because of joyous exultation in eroticism but because society mandated against homosexual liberties in particular and unfettered sexual expression in general. If you think this doesn't still apply to sex in the present day, we encourage you to think again, and we don't encourage lightly. No one would deny that the world can be a confusing, vast, difficult place; if I did, you'd throw the book across the

room, and your roommate would complain. Certainly for those lacking imagination, it must be comforting to have one's sexual persona-indeed, perhaps one's entire personality-spelled out simply and clearly so as to avoid such confusion as happens in the everyday interaction with humans who don't necessarily believe every aspect of life can or should be predicted, categorized, or neatly compartmentalized. No one could deny that life would be more easily managed if the many unknowns of daily existence were eliminated. Yet while this might be advisable when dealing with the IRS, late-night strolls into deserted areas, bank-card transactions, and the regulation of graduate fellowships, those facets of life involving passion and human physiognomy can actually benefit from containing elements not fully known to the participants, despite fear of random unknown occurrences. Unknown occurrences, it must be pointed out, are the very stuff that makes life exciting, and by life, we mean of course sex. Such occurrences happen anyway, whether you want them to or not. Why fear them to the degree that you try to mute the very essence of human existence that is, the fundamental mysterious unknowability of the human psyche? Butch-femme attempts to quantify what is and should be an ultimately unquantifiable property, human sexual invention and identity. Of course, if you wish to lead your sex life in a fashion whose chief purpose is to render homosexuality easy to understand for heterosexuals-at least those whose sexual IQ has never progressed past the question, Which one of you is the

man? that choice is entirely yours. It is not my place to tell I should or do find erotic; all people, be they card-carrying members of the ACLU or gym teachers, have certain things that move, delight, and tantalize them more than others. I am merely suggesting that rather than think of sexual behavior as a fast-food costume drama you're on the verge of memorizing your lines for if you could only get a little more rehearsal time, you might consider approaching it as a vastly less portable, less comprehensible, yet more comprehensive method of going through life. Limiting yourself to a fraction of the possibilities or permutations available to you is like reading the same book over and over because you know which sages are going to make you laugh and how the story comes out in the end. Actually, that doesn't sound so bad. Many people in the world, not all of them Republican, would feel more secure in life if there was no bisexuality, if people of all inclinations and genders felt strictly monogamous in their sexual desires, if all male and female human beings were not in reality comprised of both masculine and feminine traits, particularly fundamentalist preachers. By the same token, many women seem to need the structure of a limited sex role to feel secure in their lesbian identity. It is almost as if once they have finally resigned themselves to losing the grand prize in the "rich husband for self-worth and societal approval" sweepstakes, they must seek out a convention to replace the discarded one, thus reassuring themselves that at least they're capable of following some rules. That so many women race to embrace restrictive behaviors should not be

surprising in light of the quintessentially female trait to seek out behaviors that confirm one's own worthlessness while enabling one to speak at length about such worthlessness to anyone who will listen. That is not to say that there aren't some persons who feel that human identity, sexual and otherwise, is not so meager a thing as to be squeezed into some slot and serenely filed away, but only you can say if such persons include you.

/end ID]

helen eisenbach, lesbianism made easy, 1996

[tonguetiedraven]

Ever since you reposted that picture that was like "do not meddle in the affairs of dragons. Its rude. They've got stuff going on. Its none of your business" all I can picture is like a fantasy au where ryuuji is like a dragon shifter and Rin's tryna keep people away to give Ryuuji private time

Thank you so much for this. I love the idea <3<3<3

-- -- -- -- --

Ryuuji nosed through his pile until he found the new one, and gently nudged it over to the corner to be read in a moment. He made the rest of the pile neat again, and hurried back to his book. Settling down with a happy noise and a puff of smoke, he flipped to the first page and bent his head to get lost in the story.

“Master Suguro!”

Ryuuji hissed, curling up tighter and hoping he could just disappear behind his hoard, but also worried about letting anyone see it. There were all of four people he let get close to his hoard, and only one of them ever called him master.

He gave his book a last mournful look and climbed over his hoard to get out of the main room of the abandoned temple. It was a tight fit in his dragon form, but easy to pass through in his human form.

But only a few people got to (knowingly) see that.

The villager was nervous – they were always nervous to see him –and wide eyed as he approached them.

“Oh,” the villager, a slim man with short black hair and fine clothes, bent down in a quick bow. “Master, we need help.”

“What sort of help?”

“The Impure King is attacking!”

Of course.

It always happened like that. The moment he managed to escape notice long enough to read, he’d no sooner open a book than he would get called away for some kind of duty, whether that was protection, prayer, mediation, or teaching. It was his duty as guardian of the mountain, but he longed for moments alone to just read.

What was the point of having such a wonderful hoard of books if you could never enjoy it?

Ryuuji huffed out a breath and nodded. The frightened villager went back to wherever he had come from, and Ryuuji stomped back to his hoard. He carefully closed the book, gave it a small, sad pat with his tail, and stomped back to his door. He spoke the magical spells to conceal and protect it, and left his old temple to beat the demon back. (Again.) It was impossible to burn away every single spore, and the bastard kept regenerating himself. Ryuuji would find out where he hid himself one of these days, and he would destroy every last bit of the foul miasmic demon on that day.

He flew to the foot of the mountain, and had the extreme shock of seeing someone already fighting the enormous demon. The villagers he defended rarely confronted the demon. They’d summon fire and create barriers, but they left the brute of the assault to him. The disease the demon spread would kill them if left unchecked, and it only took a single spore to get in their lungs and spread.

But there was a knight throwing himself into the fray, laughing as he slashed at the white fluffy mass of the demon. 

Ryuuji landed on the ground with an enormous thud and breathed out an immediate roar of fire on the mochi shaped demon. The knight sprang back with a delighted noise and proceeded to clap his hands together with excitement. 

Ryuuji chose to ignore the strange display and concentrated on decimating as much of the menacing demon as he possibly could. The knight watched for a few more minutes, and then dove into the fight. His sword was on fire, and it made the fight go much faster than when Ryuuji fought the Impure King alone. 

They quickly dispatched the demon (and now Ryuuji could understand why so many dragons swore by knights) and Ryuuji turned to face the new comer.

“You’re a dragon!” He cheered.

And that was how Ryuuji met Rin Okumura. 

...

Rin had moved in over the last few days, and apparently he had opened a restaurant in the village. (Konekomaru said the food was delicious.) He liked to fight as well as cook, and dove into any fight he saw.

Ryuuji wasn’t entirely sure what to make of him.

He was talkative for one thing, capable of going off into a lengthy ramble about anything, and the topics seldom seemed to be connected in any way. He had a lot of opinions about what was cool (dragos were one of the things he found cool) and he dreamed of flying. He was around a lot, asking questions and inching closer and closer each time he wandered to Ryuuji’s old temple. 

Shima told him that Rin had volunteered for border watch, and sure enough, after a week or so, the halfling (Ryuuji had only met a few people with demon and human blood) showed up at his temple. He came inside all curiously, spreading mud all over Ryuuji’s freshly cleaned floors, and brought news about a giant chuchi harassing the villagers.

“But I can handle it!” He promised. Ryuuji went anyway. He wasn’t sure he trusted Rin Okumura yet.

...

Rin showed up with food and Konekomaru was right. It was delicious. 

...

Rin was a good fighter, and despite talking a bit too much, Ryuuji found himself appreciating the knight’s company. 

He hadn’t realized he’d been lonely, but having back up in a fight made it easier to think and quicker to eliminate the threats. He started planning strategies involving Rin, and that worried him a little. It didn’t seem like a good idea to get attached to a knight that could leave.

More worrying, he found himself sneaking down to the village in his human form and dining at Rin’s restaurant. His curry was to die for, and Ryuuji was only so strong of a dragon.

After the fifth trip, he squirreled away a menu when Rin wasn’t looking, and added it to his hoard without looking too closely about why he wanted to. 

The next day he found a book outside his temple. A beautiful leather bound volume of arias and sutras, and he promptly carried it inside, only to get a call to fight before he could even read the first page.

There was another book when he got back. A mystery book.

...

Ryuuji snuggled into his blanket and turned another page. It had been hours, and Ryuuji had nearly finished the book. He was a little concerned. He’d never gotten such a long reading time. 

He had found multiple books outside his temple, and he wasn’t certain who was leaving them, but they were good stories and he had fun trying to figure out the mysteries before he finished them. 

After another hour of reading, Ryuuji got up, worried without quite knowing why, and carefully picked his way out of is hoard, nosing a few books back into place and dusting away a cobweb from the top corner. He left his cozy room and looked around, finding Konekomaru in the garden.

“Yeah, there was an attack a few hours ago. A spirit train. Rin took care of it.”

Ryuuji frowned and returned to his hoard nervously. 

He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

...

Two weeks later, and he was sure what to make of that.

“You’re trying to replace me!” He snarled, hurt and blowing angry smoke from his nose. He had trusted Rin and the halfling had been going behind his back to fight off demons by himself. Demons Ryuuji should have been taking care of. He was the guardian of this mountain, not Rin. (He’d hoped Rin would be his knight, but apparently he didn’t want that job. He wanted Ryuuji’s.)

“Am not!”

“Yes you are!”

“No! I’m trying to give ya reading time!” Rin yelped, and then he went very pink, blinked twice, and covered his face with his hands.

“What?” Ryuuji sputtered. Reading time?! No one was supposed to know he liked to read!

Rin shook his head. “I—”

Ryuuji dared to get a little closer to the handsome knight. “What?” He demanded. Had the halfling seen his hoard? How did he know Ryuuji liked to read? And what did he mean give ya reading time?

Rin turned a bit more red, flickered with flames, and finally dropped his hands from his face in some kind of resolve. “Just what I said. I know you like reading and you don’t get to do it a lot, and you look so happy when you get to, I just wanted to help so you could. The books I left didn’t seem to work, so I thought maybe if you got to read them and like them—”

“Books you left?” Ryuuji interrupted, blushing himself though it wasn’t obvious with his scales. 

Rin nodded and jutted his chin out definitely. “Yeah! I left you four or five.”

The books hadn’t just appeared. Rin had left them. Rin had given him the wonderful mystery books and the pretty book of verses. 

Smoke started to curl from Ryuuji’s nostrils as he grew all the more red with a flattered sort of embarrassment. Rin couldn’t have realized it, but that was a courting gift. Bringing something for a dragon’s favorite part of their hoard was as much of an I’m interested in you! declaration as you could get.

Rin, not looking at Ryuuji, kicked at the ground awkwardly. “I wanted to getcha something you’d like. You didn’t seem to react to my gifts, so I thought I’d try the time thing, but that didn’t work either, so…” Rin lifted his head, clenched his hands in fist, and yelled the next words defiantly like he was in the middle of a fight. “I LIKE YOU!”

Ryuuji released a small burst of shocked flames and surprised smoke. He drew back at the volume, tail going straight into the air in surprise.

“There!” Rin added. “I said it.”

“You like me?”

Rin nodded. 

Ryuuji’s form shimmered and he took a small shuffling sort of step forward. “Oh.” Well that changed everything then.

Rin blinked and his eyes went very wide as Ryuuji shrank into his human form. 

“I loved them all,” Ryuuji said, blush obvious now as he marched towards Rin. “I appreciated the time to read,” another few steps and he was directly in front of Rin. “And,” he swallowed, gathered his draconic courage, and took Rin’s hand. “I accept your offer of courtship.”

Rin’s tail went straight up and gave an excited little tremble. “You—you do?!”

Ryuuji nodded, and without any warning, Rin made an excited noise and his arms were suddenly around Ryuuji’s neck in a tight hug and Rin’s body was pressed against his own, and his arms were around Rin’s middle, hugging him close as he took the knight’s weight.

...

So Ryuuji had a boyfriend now, and he was a genuine knight in shining armor. (Or at least he was when Ryuuji polished his armor.) He liked to cook and made stupid jokes and he couldn’t really read, but that was okay because he liked to cuddle against Ryuuji’s side and listen as Ryuuji read stories, and he was incredible at finding new books for Ryuuji’s ever growing hoard.

There would never be enough time for cuddling and reading, but there was shared meals and fighting together and flying together, and it was all a lot more fun with Rin, even if the knight would never remember to wipe his feet before entering Ryuuji’s temple. 

And, well… If he started to add a few cooking utensils to his hoard, and he snagged any cool swords he saw… well, it was normal for dragon hoards to grow in interest and Rin’s smile was so big when he saw his portion of the hoard, that Ryuuji couldn’t be embarrassed. (At least not enough to stop.)

He could trust Rin to keep his mountain safe when he needed some alone time, and he was more than capable of guarding it when Rin wanted some cooking time.

Though, they would probably need a bigger temple to house their combined hoard soon, but that was a problem for the future. In the mean time, there were cuddles to be had and mysteries to be read over warm curry.

Ryuuji was the happiest of dragons.

[papergirllife]

Yuta Nakamoto ,

Mark Lee

Chapter 2

Venom! Yuta x human! Mark x human! reader

Synopsis :

Mark thought he’d never find love with Yuta living inside his body, having his life turned upside down when he met the alien, or more accurately, was ‘chosen’ by Yuta during an afternoon of a very normal university tour which turned out to be a tour to the biotechnology company he had to destroy to save the world.

So definitely, with the hero duties and school, and the fact that he's no longer your typical university kid, love was sort of out of the picture for him. But what happens when he stumbles upon a girl who loves him and his alien buddy?

Before Mark could react, Yuta had taken over, transforming his body into Yuta’s alien form, his senses further heightened as his limbs stretched and flesh morphed into the familiar dark royal blue.

Yuta jumped onto the edge of the bridge, one hand holding onto the ledge while the other extends like ropes, catching the girl a few feet before she falls into the water, heaving a sigh of relief, Yuta slowly reels the girl back up, placing her gently on the ground before transforming back into his human form, which earned a complaint from Mark who thought he was going to have his body for the whole day.

“She seems to have nowhere to go,” Yuta says as he observes the way the girl’s bags were by her side, not many, three backpacks worth of belongings, whatever you’re going through did look kind of suicidal at plain sight, but from the way you had retaliated that asshole, you probably weren't thinking of doing it.

‘I don’t think she was planning on jumping, she just seems to be thinking then the guy was drunk as hell, fucker even tried to rape her, disgusting.’

“She looks good enough to eat,” Yuta muses, observing your beautiful body under the moonlight.

‘Dude, how many times have I told you that you can’t eat people?’

“I know, not eating in that sense, not once in all these months I've been with you that you had actually managed to get a girl in your bed, Markie, all you do is study all the time,” Yuta retorted, offended that even after so long Mark is still a newbie at deciphering Yuta’s emotions when Yuta is a pro at his, they literally just ate.

‘Stop reminding me that, and what should we do? Leave her here until she wakes?’

“We’ll just have to take her home, we can’t leave her out here, you human men are all disrespectful species,” Yuta said before transforming back into his alien form, sighing in delight when he no longer needs to be fitted into Mark’s tight clothes.

‘How can you just decide to bring her home? She’s a stranger,’ Mark argued as he sees Yuta taking the familiar route home.

“She obviously needs help, you helped me find a home too, Mark. Everyone deserves a home,” Yuta said as he slinks into the open window of their home, placing her bags down before he extends his arm to lay her on the sofa.

Yuta retreats from Mark’s body, letting Mark have the reins as he recharges. Mark shakes his head slightly to adjust back to seeing things back to his normal perspective. Mark leans against the wall, watching you silently, like Yuta did just now, noticing how beautiful you are after he had calmed down.

‘She’s your type, isn’t she?’

“Knock it off, man. I don’t even know her,” Mark says before carrying your things into his aunt’s old room before retreating out to carry your things into the room, placing you onto the bed.

‘You could get to know her, isn’t that how human courting works?’ Yuta says sarcastically, ‘don’t miss our shot, Markie.’

Mark is slightly weirded out by how he technically has to share with Yuta, the ever picky Yuta who has since disapprove of the girls Mark has tried to date, but what could he do? He’ll just have to get used to having Yuta sharing when the time comes.

When you woke up, you could hear the sound of pots and pans as you roused from your slumber, shocked when you realise you don’t recognise the four walls surrounding you. Have you been kidnapped?

Just then, you remember last night’s events, recalling how inky blue tentacles reached out to you before you lost consciousness. Was that Venom? Seoul’s infamous hero?

You crept to the door, twisting it slowly to open it, jaw dropping when you see a man around your age, but what made your jaw drop was how his arm extended to an inky blue tentacle to retrieve eggs from the fridge.

“Dude, stop doing that. She might wake up soon,” the man chided, his back still facing you.

“I’m definitely awake after that,” you spoke up from behind the door, opening it wider to reveal yourself.

“Um, breakfast?” the cute guy says, holding up a plate of steaming hot eggs and bacon strips.

“So... You’re Venom? Don’t try to lie, I caught you red handed,” you said before taking a bite at the eggs, not the worst eggs you’ve had, but still acceptable for a newbie?

Just when Mark opens his mouth to reply, his body transforms into the Venom that you’ve only seen through screens, the sight sending chills down your body, eyes trained on his, spider-like, but much more fleshy, just like the rest of his body which was a dark royal blue colour.

“Technically, I’m Venom,” Yuta says.

You were surprised that this voice was different from the boy previously.

“Hi,” you squeaked, but your lips turned into an o when he transforms once more, into a dashing young man who was a stark contrast from the boy before, sharp features and large eyes greet you, a teasing smile on his face.

“I’m Yuta, the other guy is Mark, and this is my human form,” Yuta said, arms wide open to let you observe.

“Cool,” you said, what else could you say? That the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on is technically not a man? And his lips are so pouty, how is this even possible?

Yuta could tell you were drinking him in, eyes wandering all over his body. Yuta doesn’t get this sort of attention because he has to hide his identity, so now he’s relishing in this newfound attention, and from a pretty girl like you nonetheless.

“So, what leaves you homeless?” Yuta asks, taking a bite of his first bacon strip in his plate of dozens, chewing on it quickly as if it was just a tiny little pretzel, before reaching for the next one.

“My ex and I use to live together, until there was a huge fight, we broke up, he kicked me out, 5 years down the drain, but I saw it coming, about time now,” you explained easily, as if you were just teaching someone how to take the train to Gangnam.

“I’m sorry,” Yuta said sincerely, he’s watched enough dramas to know break ups aren’t an easy feat.

“It’s alright, so sorry for bothering you guys, I’ll leave after breakfast, and thanks for the food,” you said before getting up to wash your now empty plate at the sink.

“Here’s your chance, Mark,” Yuta whispered under his breath before he retreats back into Mark’s body.

Yuta, is although resting, has Mark on his feet, walking towards you before Mark could object.

“Um, you could always stay with us, that’s my aunt’s room, and she moved in with her new husband in Vancouver, so it’s empty,” Mark said nervously, gesturing at the room you slept in just now.

“Really?” you couldn’t believe your ears, they saved you once and now they’re helping you again, you would’ve never thought the person behind an image like Venom would be so welcoming.

“Yeah, stay as long as you like,” Mark offered.

“Thank you!” you said, throwing your arms around the nervous boy, silently smirking when you feel his neck heating up.

Yuta is chuckling at Mark’s reaction, knowing that this is going to be a hell of a ride.

[folkloreguk]

an angel for a demon (3)

A/N: Here's the last part of this small series! You don't necessarily need to read all of them to understand this one, but it does probably make more sense if you do. As always, feedback is deeply appreciated! Have a good day x

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), demon!bias, angel!reader, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), reader gives her first bj

words: ~ 6.7 k

PART1 (M)

PART2 (M)

“I’m going out to pick up some food and stuff, do you want to come along?” you heard him ask. You had your legs up against the wall, your back on the bed, and a magazine in your hands. The women on the pages had you gushing, on the verge of hypnotization. You swore if you looked at those infatuating pictures one minute longer, you’d be swallowed whole by them.

When you had worked your way through some science books and were still hungry for more to read, H/N had brought you some magazines, mostly about fashion but also gossip and lifestyle tips. Turns out letting a clueless angel read about what’s supposed to be good for women was not a smart idea. Up in the clouds, from where you used to watch earth’s women, they had all looked equal to you – beautiful, intelligent, and capable. Now, down in the reality of it all, things appeared much more complicated. Which angel could have known it took diets, workout routines, anti-aging creams and the perfect outfit for your body type to be viewed the same way you had always looked at women from above? And most importantly, how did any woman manage to uphold all these expectations the magazines named? It was all too much and seemingly impossible. Abruptly, you were pulled out of your train of thoughts.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” he asked, peaking his head through the door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, putting down the magazine on your chest. “No, I’d like to stay here.”

“Alright,” he said, “Would you like me to bring you anything from the store?”

He walked over to you and sat on the bed. His hands softly brushed over your hair, down your cheek and neck, barely touching your collarbones. He was in his black, intimidating clothes, per usual, but his eyes held nothing but fondness for you.

“Actually, maybe there is something,” you said. “Look.”

You picked up the magazine and pointed at the page.

“Can you buy me a dress like this one? They say it would fit me best. And could you get some makeup for me? I don’t know much about it, but maybe you-“ you said. Usually, he was one to listen carefully to every of your words, as if you were the most interesting person he had ever met. This time, he interrupted you.

“Stop. Where is this coming from?” he asked. “I want you to forget all those things you’ve read in those magazines, okay?”

You were confused, thinking you were learning by reading those articles. Gently, he caressed your face. “You know I’ll buy you anything in the world, right? But only if that’s what youwant. Everything they tell you to do, everything they tell you to buy, it’s brainwashing. You will wear whatever dress you find pretty, and if you want to wear makeup, that’s fine. But you will only do those things if you want to do them, okay? There’s nothing you need to change about yourself.”

“But they say you need to start early to get a nice body, and to prevent aging,” you said. “They say men will admire me.”

“We’re immortal, my angel,” he said. “And even if we weren’t, what’s wrong with growing old? Wouldn’t you want the traces of your experiences to be visible on your skin? Those companies, they all just want your money and so they try to scare you into believing you’re not good enough. But truth is, you always are. All those times people tug on their skin in front of a mirror, or whenever they break a sweat trying to lose weight, or when they compare themselves to those who look different from them – they’re already good enough. They’re perfect. This worlds wants you to never be at peace with who you are. But you need to promise me you won’t succumb to those nonsensical tactics to make you hate yourself. And don’t you ever wait for a man to give you approval. That’s your job and your job only.”

You listened, wide-eyed and intrigued. No magazine could ever speak so honestly, and you believed every word he said. After all, you trusted him much more than some random author of an article that was trying to sell you the latest weight loss-magic-powder.

“Okay, I promise.” You sat up and leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’ve never even really thought about it, but I think I’m pretty.”

“Not thinking about it might just be the best way to go about it in this world,” he said, and placed a kiss on your forehead. The feeling of warmth lingered on your skin seconds after he had already pulled away.

“I change my mind, then,” you said, “Do you think you can get me a dress like this?”

You showed him a different picture this time. It showed a lot more skin than the one you had pointed out before. You only realized this when he was already smirking at your choice.

“I’ll see what I can find,” he said. “That’s an interesting option, angel.”

“Hey! I just like the color, alright?” you defended yourself, making him chuckle. Over the course of four weeks, you had come to know his insinuations and his little jokes better. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the incredible sensation his eyes on you gave you. When he goggled at you because you had decided to wear his shirt for a day, or the way he watched you welcome him with open arms when he came home.

You now understood that certain words or actions, or even just an article of clothing – or lack thereof – could conjure an insatiable hunger in his eyes. At first, it was a little scary, having a demon stare you down as if he wanted to eat you up. But now that you knew what his hands felt like on your skin, and that his lips were made for much gentler actions than to hurt you, you wanted nothing more than to coax the starving demon into playing with you, any chance you got. And perhaps that dress in the catalogue would do just that, and not only bring you joy. It was a win-win, really.

“I’ll be back in the afternoon,” he said. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“You know I always do,” you said.

“I’ll give you all the missed attention when I get home, alright?” he said, bending down to your ear. “You can have whatever you want, then.”

To be honest, half of the time you didn’t know what you wanted him to do. But with every time his hands explored your body you learned more. There were so many things humans did to make each other feel good, you doubted you’d ever be able to try everything. His promise made you wish he was already back home when he had barely stepped out of the door. One last grin and nod and he left you alone.

What did angels do on a Saturday noon? Usually, you’d be patrolling your village, entertaining yourself by watching children play tag, admiring lovers walking hand in hand or discovering a family that had just adopted a small animal. Their human eyes shined when they felt happiness, and it was infectious to you. You wanted to send your blessing to all of them, make sure they never felt anything but delight, but you knew that wasn’t how business worked down there. Some things were even out of your control. Now, on earth, you were ready to take whichever hardships were to come if it meant you could have been with your demon lover.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You had only gotten up an hour ago. Last night, you had been kept awake for long. He was untiring when he was between your legs. You had learned that he didn’t need nearly as much sleep as you did, and when he set his mind to making you come by his administrations, he didn’t waver to do so. But losing sleep in exchange for pleasure was okay with you. Time became meaningless, either way, when you had your face buried in a pillow, tears threatening to spill over from how good he made you feel. Sometimes he made you come while sitting in his lap, then you’d cling to him like a baby and muffle your whimpers by pressing your lips against the skin of his shoulder. He loved telling you ‘Look at me’ right when you were falling. It was hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head or not to collapse in his arms, but for him you would try your best. Often you found your thoughts lingering on the memory of his gaze when you came apart under his touch. It had something of fascination and protectiveness, and you’d never get enough of it.

Great, now you wanted him again. And he wasn’t here. How had you gotten this way? On occasion you wondered if one of the other angels had already spotted you and the sins you were committing. You wouldn’t call them sins now, or ever again. It wasn’t like you wanted to adapt to a demon lifestyle. But you felt at home for the first time, here on earth. It was the perfect grey zone between heaven and hell.

As an attempt to appease your needy mind, you picked up your magazine again. Just because you shouldn’t believe everything they said didn’t mean you shouldn’t have read it at all, right? You flipped through articles on fitness and the newest fashion, but after skimming the pages for only a few seconds, you were done with those tips. He wanted you because of who you were – an angel – and you doubted than any beauty routine could make him more obsessed with you than he already was. But then you read something most curious to your angel eyes. ‘How to make him feel best – tips from a porn star’ the title said. Whatever in the heaven a porn star was, they seemed to be some sort of expert on pleasuring men, and you, always eager to learn something new, were intrigued from the very first word.

But soon you had to admit, you weren’t at all sure what they were referring to with those words and actions. When you and your demon boyfriend had sex, he usually did most of the work, while you took whatever teasing or pleasure he inflicted on you. He had said he liked it this way, but now you weren’t so sure. Or was this ‘10 things to do become a blowjob-pro’ – list just another attempt of society to brainwash women? You weren’t one to initiate talk about sexual stuff, but maybe you’d try to question him on the meaning of what you had read.

You flipped another page and finally you had arrived at a page you could work with. It was a bunch of comfort food recipes. Right away you fell in love with the picture of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the top right corner. H/N had promised you to teach you how to cook, but so far you hadn’t made much progress. The difficulty level read beginner, and five minutes later you stood in the kitchen. With some music in the background your enthusiasm only sparked more. Baking was new and came with slight overwhelmingness and the stress of making sure you weren’t forgetting to add any ingredient. But the Christmassy scent of cinnamon and the feeling of making something from scratch made you happy, and with rapt attention you finished your first completed recipe ever.

You wiped some flour off your forehead. Hopefully H/N would like the cinnamon rolls too, because as tasty you found your creation, there was no way you were able to devour them all by yourself. As if on cue, you suddenly heard the key slide into the lock of the front door. Probably prompted by the heavenly scent, he called your name.

“Here,” you answered, mouth full of a bite of cinnamon roll. When he walked in, he already had his famous smirk on his face. It was your favorite. You knew it was reserved only for you.

“What did you make?” he asked. But he had his answer when he saw the baked goods in front of you. He set down the bags and put his arms on your waist from behind. With a hum, you lifted the cinnamon roll to his lips, and he took a bite. He almost moaned at the taste and you grinned.

“Do you like them?” you asked, already knowing the answer but still awaiting more praise. You squealed a little at how quickly he spun you around. His nose touched yours and your heartbeat raced.

“It’s like they came with you straight from heaven,” he said. “Hmm…I missed my angel.”

His lips when he kissed you tasted like sugar and spice and you melted straight into his touch. You only noticed he had run his finger over the gooey leftover icing when it was already too late. He was a demon after all. And if demons were good at one thing, it was causing mischief.

“Hey,” you protested at his hands on your neck. Then your reaction quickly altered as his finger slid lower, down to your collar bones and to where your low-cut shirt started. “Great, now I’m all sticky.”

You didn’t understand at first that messing with you wasn’t his full intention. But he tilted his head to the side and ran his hot tongue over the icing on your skin, and you gasped suddenly. This wasn’t just a joke. He wanted you. He made a humming noise, as if the sweetness combined with your own taste were only complimenting each other. When he pulled down the neckline of your shirt a little, so he could have every last drop of the sugary substance on your skin, you couldn’t help but whimper. You wanted so desperately for him to do it again, that you thought about sticking your own fingers into the bowl of icing and smearing it on your chest. His eyes were playful when he looked up at your reaction.

“Oh no. If you’re all sticky I guess you’ll need a shower, will you?” he said, “What a coincidence. I was thinking of taking one, just now.”

You had never taken a shower with him, or anyone, for that matter. But you had a feeling that the both of you wouldn’t be keeping to yourself, standing naked in front of each other. You didn’t mind. And you guessed your approval was written on your face, because he pulled you in and kissed you hard. Again, you remembered the article you had read. Was now a good time to ask him about it?

While you were contemplating, his tongue slid over your bottom lip and met yours. You had been too shy to ask before, but now you were speechless. Gently, he grabbed your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the hallway. You were a mess of lips and tongues and hands and feet stumbling over each other. Every few meters you stopped to push yourself close against him. It was like a game of who could go without kissing each other for longer. And you were both lousy at it.

He loved pushing you up against the wall, trapping you between his arms on each side of your head. This way, he could brush up against your shaking body and you had nowhere left to go. Needless to say, you had no intentions of getting away, no matter what. He knocked the breath out of your lungs, and you kissed him back like you could breathe him in instead. As if he had become your new source of oxygen, or whatever it was you really needed to survive. It these moments, air seemed like a subsidiary matter. So long as you had his hot tongue licking down your neck and his busy hands on your ass under your dress, nothing else truly mattered.

Your kisses were open-mouthed and far more confident than they had been only weeks ago. You now knew how much he liked when you grabbed his hair tightly, or when you whispered his name against his devouring lips, as if it was the only word you had ever been taught. Like it was the only word you ever wanted to know. Before you had even made it to the bathroom, half of your clothes were scattered somewhere along the way.

“I can’t believe I just had you yesterday and here I am already missing you this much again,” he mumbled against your earlobe, teeth playing with your soft skin. “You really are otherworldly. There’s no other explanation.”

His words made you feel proud. The pleasure was one thing you had come to love quickly, but then you noticed the power you could have over him, by merely existing. It was almost unbelievable, but there he was, hard and needing you, day by day. Again, your mind wandered off to the magazine article.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice must had been different from your usual timid tone when you were in the middle of something unholy.

“Anything, angel,” he said. He let his lips linger on your cheek, half an inch from your mouth, and your stomach twisted in how badly you wanted him to sip on your lips like he was starving.

“Do you like always doing everything when we- ,“ you said. He gave you a puzzled expression, so you tried to explain yourself better. “I mean, if you ever want me to do more, you can ask me to. I don’t know everything yet, but I can learn.”

You weren’t even sure if you understood what the heaven you had just stammered. His look reminded you of the one he had when you asked him to buy him the dress and the makeup that morning.

“I love what we have, little angel,” he said, “What’s making you think you need to do anything differently?”

How were you supposed to explain what you had read when you hadn’t even properly grasped it yourself? You opted for taking his hand and walking him to the bedroom. There the magazine still lay, like an ancient cursed book you weren’t sure you wanted to know front to back. You picked it up and quickly handed him the article. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you opted to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

His lips curled into a devilish grin upon eyeing the page, and you thought the ground might swallow you whole. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all and spared yourself the embarrassment. But at the same time, you were eager to know.

“I thought I told you, magazines are just trying to make you doubt yourself,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I know, but if there’s anything I can do to make you feel as good as you make me feel, I want to do it,” you confessed. He bent down, cupping your face.

“No one’s ever felt as good to me as you have, angel,” he said, “You’re heaven to me. Do you understand that?”

With your mouth squished together slightly, you nodded your head that was in his hands.

“By the devil, you’re so adorable,” he said. “If you really want to know, though, I’ll show you.”

Even more eagerly, you nodded again. He chuckled. You couldn’t handle how handsome he was – all messy hair, bare chest and black eyes that made you dream of the most unholy things possible.

“You remember how I kiss you…down there?” he asked. You hummed, cheeks on fire. “And how I’ve asked you to put your hands on my cock before?”

You did. But it had been brief, only a few pumps and small touches, until he had become too needy. You had been whining so deliciously for him to fuck you and so he had to have you on the spot.

“In the way you touched me then…you could use your mouth on me. Make me come with your perfect lips and sweet hands,” he said. “If that’s what you want, too.”

“I do!” you said with enthusiasm that only an angel at the feasibility of making someone’s day could bring on. “Let’s postpone that shower.”

The pride in his eyes lasted for approximately two seconds before the raw hunger replaced it. He climbed onto the bed and pat his thighs. On command, you settled on his lap. The simple feeling of his bulge under your center, even if interrupted by some fabric, made your head dizzy and your stomach drop. You kneaded your hands, not sure where to touch him first. But just as he always did to you, you had the impulse to start by his head and go lower from there. Although you were on top of him, he looked amused at your shy eyes.

“Can I kiss your neck, like you always kiss mine?” you asked.

“Be my guest,” he said, grinning like he had just won the lottery. Your lips met his skin and you used your tongue the way you had felt him do it. His scent was intoxicating. It made the empty bedsheets you breathed in sometimes, when he left in the middle of the night for his demon antics, seem like nothing. You used your hands to stabilize yourself as you moved lower. The hiss he let out when you felt up on his abs and waistline almost scared you. Then you realized it was a good sign. Only for the blink of an eye you dared to graze your teeth on his skin. His reaction was immediate.

“Shit,” he cussed, “That’s my angel.”

So, he liked that. You couldn’t wait to tease him by biting him in the future. Provoking a demon would have sounded like something close to a death wish to you, had you thought about it months ago. Now, with a demon as tame as they come beneath you, the thought only excited you. As he liked to do, you touched him through his boxers while you continued your journey down his chest and stomach. The guttural moan he released made your head spin and you never wanted him to be quiet. Usually, you weren’t in a mind state to notice his groans, or your own noises were covering his.

“You’re doing so good, little angel,” he said, short of breath. Once again, your effect on him surprised you. Where was the intimidating, big bad demon you had been taunted by?

“I’m gonna fuck you so well for this,” he said, “Even the angels in heaven will hear you scream. Wouldn’t you like that?”

There he was. You pressed your legs together at the simple mention of him inside of you, but if he thought you were going to answer, he’d be waiting endlessly. You still had enough respect for your angels not to think of them in this moment. Nonetheless you hummed weakly. When you got to his hipbone, you hesitated. You drowned out your doubts by kissing him there, while you contemplated what to do next. Your hand was still wrapped around his clothed cock. It was rock hard, and a wet spot had formed on the fabric from how much he needed you. When your touch became softer, and you pulled your hands away slowly, he lifted his hips, not wanting you to stop. You supposed this was the part where you took off his boxers. At least he didn’t complain when you pulled them off his legs, so you assumed you were still on the right track.

Watching his face for signs of approval, your hand wrapped around his length. He almost seemed electrified at your touch. His jaw dropped slightly, and his hooded eyes somehow appeared even darker than usual.

“Just like that,” he said, “And now move your hand up and down.”

So you did. As you regarded your hand around his shaft, all you could think about was how it used to be. How did your hands, that were usually folded neatly in your lap while you looked down on earth, end up doing such ungodly things? And how come you didn’t even for a second feel guilty?

“Angel, you’re so good to me,” he moaned. Angel. That’s what he loved to emphasize. But was that what you were, still? Maybe you would simply stop putting yourself in a box. Perhaps you were just you, doing what you felt was right and would make you happy. And right now, having a demon clench his fists in your hair and saying your name in that tone, you couldn’t think of a lot of incidents that had made you happier. Was this the part where you should use your mouth? You weren’t sure, but your eyes jumped from his cock to his face and it caught his eyes.

“You can take me in your mouth if you want. If you ever feel like stopping, just do so,” he encouraged you, “But remember, no teeth there, okay?”

You grinned and nodded. You parted your lips and your tongue placed kitten licks on the underside of his member. When you reached the top, you took him between your lips, mirroring the motion of your hands around him. You were surprised at how comfortable you were, when ten minutes ago you were ready to personally descend to hell from embarrassment. There was something enticing about the power you possessed in that moment. You understood humans just a little better, once again. Knowing that the way he bucked his hips and his groans were caused by you and only you had you smiling inwardly. It was a way you had never caught yourself smile before. You felt brave, and like you could do anything, with a demon so at your pity.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out where he was most sensitive. Whenever you pressed your tongue against the tip of his cock, he let out a sigh. It was almost like relief, as if he had been waiting for you all his life. And now here you were, granting him all his wishes. You bobbed your head, but kept your attention on his sweet spot, his moans just too delightful not to evoke them on purpose.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he said. Often, you looked up at him. His lids fluttered from the pleasure, but he seemed to like it when you made eye contact. For a moment, you lifted your head, needing some air. Gently, he caressed your face, like you were made of precious porcelain.

“Which one of my dreams did you escape from, little angel?” he asked. You smiled sheepishly, lowering your head. Again, you wrapped your lips around his length. You wondered what he was thinking about. Was his mind as free from any worries as yours whenever he fucked you? Was he able to form any coherent thoughts or was his brain going into the same mental blackout you always experienced?

You continued the way you had, sucking the tip of his cock while your hand pumped him. From time to time, you took a breather and pulled away. Little did you know what you were doing to him. With the short intervals of your lips on him and the pauses in between, you unknowingly made everything more intense for him. It was a dangerous game of edging him you were playing, and you were outright unaware of it.

But why would he have complained? In that moment, you were his personal guardian angel, making sure all his needs were fulfilled. When he saw your lips, all red and puffy, he asked himself where you had been hiding all this time. You peeked up at him through your angel eyes and he felt his entire world become whole in front of him. He was completely and absolutely at your mercy, inebriated by your entire being. Never in his long time on earth had he seen someone so ravishingly beautiful, yet so unaware of their might. He swore to himself in that moment, he’d do anything to make you love him forever.

As divinely as you were treating him, he suddenly wanted you in a different way. And if you continued your sweet actions, he wasn’t sure if that would still be possible. He gently cupped your head, making you look up. You hummed in question.

“You’re doing so well,” he said, “Let me give back to you, won’t you? Does my angel want some attention, too?”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t practically touch-starved at this moment. And having been taught to always be truthful, you nodded before you even knew it.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, “Why don’t you take off the rest of your clothes?”

When you got up to slip out of your dress, your legs were weak. You hadn’t even done anything, and yet your body felt heavy. All you wanted was to go back to him and have him so close, it felt like he could have been a part of you. As much as you had felt on top of the world minutes ago, his hungry eyes made you shrink inwardly. But it wasn’t out of fear. It was almost admiration, or rather anticipation. You knew he knew your body inside out, and you couldn’t wait for him to prove it to you.

“Come here, angel,” he said. You climbed back onto the bed. “Turn around for me, okay?”

You were on your knees, sitting up right, facing the headboard. His breath on your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. Then his hands snaked around your body from behind you. A small whimper left your lips when he ran them down your chest, fingers drawing small shapes on your breasts. They continued their way down your stomach and to your parted thighs. The cold air was hitting your dripping core, and had you not had enough self-control, you would have moaned at the mere sensation of his fingertips on the inside of your thigh. But maybe that was just what he was waiting for. After all, he was still taking his time with you. But in this instance, you knew what you wanted, and more importantly when you wanted it.

“Please,” you said. You weren’t sure what to say but starting with a ‘please’ was never a mistake.

“Please what?” he asked. You couldn’t see his face, yet you knew his devilish grin that must’ve been plastered on his face. He never missed a chance to make you shy. “Is this what you want?”

He slid two of his fingers down your slit slowly. It would forever be a mystery to you, how such a simple touch could put you in such a mental state of disarray. You whined at how needy you were, fighting the urge to press your legs together. In a second, his fingers were coated in your juices. When he pressed them against your opening, but didn’t push any further, your head spun with frustration. An impulse yelled at you to grab his hand and show him how you wanted him, but you sensed there was a specific aim in his teasing. Above that, you weren’t close to that brave. Purposely lightly, he rubbed circles onto your clit. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and your breaths came out in little, desperate noises.

Before meeting him, you never knew this sort of inability to control your body. Having power over your motions was an obviousness to you. But as with so many things in life, you had been wrong. Or rather, you had not known better. Now, with his lips brushing over the side of your exposed neck, you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted to do to you. If there was a noise or reaction he wanted to coax out of you, he could do so. And if evoking your little melodic whimper was his aim, he was on the right path, fingers teasing your pussy and flicking over your clit. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. In fact, he had a head so full of ideas of things you could do together, you doubted you’d ever start to get bored here.

“I want you…inside of me,” you said, surprising yourself. This was your desperate body taking control of your motor speech center, that little region in your brain that allowed you to let out what you wanted to say. Your cheeks were hot for only a moment, then you realized if it got you what you wanted so badly, speaking your mind was probably a fantastic idea. You should really do it more in the future, you thought.

“What my angel wants, my angel gets,” he said. Just for a few seconds, he moved his fingers much faster. You yelped at the sudden pleasure, your hand wrapping around his wrist. His other hand reached for your hand, softly taking it away as you became a whimpering puddle in his arms. You were ready to fall, give in to the pleasure and let go. It was what you so desperately wanted. But as quickly as it had begun, he removed his hands. His attention was gone, and you were left yearning for more.

“Lift your hips,” he said, softly touching your sides. A part of you wanted to cry out, hold him responsible for denying you your sweet release. But you knew it would be no use, and he would tell you to wait either way. You were still on your knees, but straightened up, arms hanging by your sides, waiting for his touch. He was right behind you, his upper body against yours. When you felt his cock run over your slick folds, you sighed at the awaited sensation. The stretch when he filled you up felt so perfect, so out of this world, you reached for his hand to hold on to.

“Why didn’t you ask me earlier if you wanted me so bad?” he asked. He squeezed your hand as his other pulled you flush against his back while he pushed himself further into you. He’d thrust against you for a while, only to pull out completely, and repeat the whole process. It was sending you into complete overdrive.

“Because I wanted to make you feel good,” you said. “Only you, for once.”

You moaned when he snapped his hips against your ass, picking up the pace. In an attempt to support your jittery legs, you grabbed the headboard in front of you. Your breathing came out in short huffs, uneven and a little shaky.

“You’re so sweet and selfless…my patient angel,” he said, his fingers coming in contact with your clit again. His touch was an allure to you, and you wished you could have stayed this way forever. No thoughts, just his body and his dark voice to sedate your mind. “I’ll give you anything you want. You know that, right?”

You hummed and nodded. “Yes. And I’ll do the same for you.” Your words were interrupted by your small whimpers. There had been a time you didn’t know what it felt like, when you didn’t even know there was a such thing of having someone inside of you. Now you couldn’t get enough of him. You were already so sensitive that every time he quickened his thrusts and moved his fingers on you slightly faster, he had you hanging right over the edge. And he could tell by the way you held your breath when you were close. He didn’t want you going there just yet.

“As much as I love your mouth around my dick, this is my favorite way of having you,” he said. He used both of his hands to dig into your sides, pulling your hips closer to him every time he dragged his cock through your walls. You agreed. Should any of your angels ever catch wind of this, they would ban you to earth – or worse, send you to hell. So be it, you thought. You’d be like your lover. One of the creatures of the darkness, thought to be the personification of sin. Even if they ripped your angel title from you, they could never steal away what you had now.

Yes, you were meddling with a demon, but also having the time of your life. It was vastly better than spending your days judging humans for being themselves and for humans living the true way they want to live, instead of abstaining from the simple pleasures of life. Their true colors shown, they weren’t harming anybody, but rather making the world a more acceptable and open-minded place. You aspired to be like them.

“This is my kind of heaven,” he said. It’s what he always called you. Heaven. He groaned when you clenched your walls around him, your inevitable high drawing closer.

“This is my new heaven…you are,” you replied. He chuckled darkly, probably relishing in your confession. The thought that he could make an angel reject the very place they should have belonged filled him with a sense of superiority.

“Look how well you’re taking me,” he said. His hand wrapped around your body, pulling you tighter. He slipped his hand between your legs again, and you almost felt like collapsing, had he not held on to you. On instinct, you closed your eyes and let the feeling crash over you.

“Let me see you come, little angel,” he spoke in your ear, just for you to hear. You would do anything for him. You quivered and buckled at the severity of the feeling, but he had you. Your moans were high and dragged out, as his digits pressed harder onto the sensitive nub on your center.

“Take just a little more for me, can you?” he asked. You obliged willingly, nodding your head while it was still full of nothingness. Even as he kept fucking you, it was pure bliss for another while. It made your legs shake a little, but you felt so safe there, in his embrace, the sensitivity was alright to handle. You could tell by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming that he was almost there, too. He was pressing you against his chest as if you were all he ever wanted. His moans sounded like home to you as he came. He said your name and bent forward, reaching for the headboard, but you both tumbled into the bedsheets together instead. You giggled at your shared clumsiness and you could feel his chest move from laughing as he was lying on top of your back.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he said, “You’re amazing.”

You turned your head and his lips brushed along your temple, kissing you softly. He brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes so you could look at him. Seeing his beautiful face had you falling into an even deeper state of serenity.

“I want to cuddle,” he said, and it was probably the sweetest thing you had ever heard a demon say. As he rolled off you, you followed his movements and settled in his embrace. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your skin, but neither of you cared enough to get up just yet.

“I love what you’ve done to me,” you said.

“What is it I have I done to you?” he asked, fingers drawing nonsensical patterns on the side of your bare hips.

“You changed me. But not in a bad way. You let me be who I want to be and showed me that that’s okay,” you said, “You made me understand. Some sins aren’t that sinful at all.”

[moonbaby26]

Title: What’s in a Name?

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. You and the others are finally homeward bound, flying back to the U.S. from the events in Egypt and Greece. You get to hear a little more about Peter’s eastern European roots while passing time on the plane together.

Warnings: None, just fluff and Peter being Peter.

Notes: I know where some things I’m referencing don’t match the comics. Blend of comic canon and the movie version going on here.

Chapters: Previous Chapter Here

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

The morning sun was still low and red on the horizon as you’d stepped back out into the open air of the flight deck. But seagulls were already calling from somewhere up above as men milled around, checking and readying a set of helicopters that you knew would soon be taking you ashore.

You wouldn’t miss this boat itself of course, none of you belonged here after all. But you’d be lying to say it’d been easy to let go of Peter when morning had come. You’d woken up far more tangled than you remembered going to sleep as, chest to chest, his good leg wrapped over you and one of his hands somehow far up the back of your shirt.

The longest part of getting ready had been the procrastination of leaving that bed. After that, it only seemed like minutes before you were all awkwardly standing up here now, waiting on next instructions. It wasn’t as if you’d had anything you could pack after all. Besides that somewhat silly polaroid picture you’d seen Peter carefully stowaway in one pocket of his shorts, you had no possessions to speak of here. Even the shoes they’d given you were some poorly fit military boot. The tops of them scraped against your ankles as you walked and you’d be glad to be rid of them whenever possible.

The Professor and Moira approached after another moment, Moira hurrying a little more as one of the helicopters began to fire up, followed by the other soon after. She had to speak louder over the rising noise of the blades rotating faster and faster.

“Keep these on you!” She called, going to each of you in turn, handing over a U.S. passport with a driver’s license closed separately inside. She only opened them briefly to check that she was matching each to the correct person. “The flight we’ll be taking is just a commercial plane. The government has contracted them and dictated the pickup and landing points, but it’s civilian pilots and flight crew. Normal security still applies, but only those with U.S. citizenship are allowed aboard.”

As she’d gotten to you and Peter, she’d handed both passports to you as you’d had your hand outstretched, and he’d still been holding on to his crutches. You quickly opened one just to see which was yours, so you could pocket only your own. The first one opened was his however, but even in the low light of early sunrise, your brain hitched on something unexpected.

The picture looking back at you was clearly him, albeit a little younger, and with slightly longer hair than the way he wore it currently. But that wasn’t the issue. You reread the name printed in front of you more than once, before glancing up to him as if to confirm.

It said Pietro Django Maximoff.

“Your real name isn’t Peter?” You asked, even over the helicopter noise before you could stop yourself. But the realization was already dawning on you almost before that last word left your mouth that so many people were called one name by friends and family even if their legal name may still be another. You felt a bit stupid then for your reaction, instantly wishing you could take the question back.

But thankfully he only leaned in with a smile, taking his passport and license from you even as he spoke right against your ear. “Define real.” He pocketed them, before continuing. The helicopters were at their full ready now. “But it’s a bit loud here, babe. I’ll tell you all you want to know about my sexy alter ego later, deal?”

—————————

By the time you’d gotten to the airstrip on shore, it was full morning sun now. And just as Moira had said, there was already a large U.S. commercial jet waiting there. You also found out you weren’t alone, as you’d had to join a line of people already waiting to board. They were checking credentials as people moved up one by one onto a mobile stairway that had been rolled up flush with the plane’s open door.

Looking around you, most of the would be passengers still looked like military of various branches though. Army, Navy, Air Force, they still had on their uniforms. But there were others too, likely diplomats being evacuated you thought. Men, women, even a few children as you’d seen the curious eyes peeking out from behind their parents’ legs as you all had also moved through the line.

“It had to be damn stairs,” Peter mumbled as the two of you neared closer to the plane. Without any actual terminal here, boarding straight from the tarmac was the only option.

“If Hank can help carry the Professor up them, wheelchair and all, I’m pretty sure I can handle you.” You responded, only meaning to give him a little grief.

But he just spun things right back on you of course. “Oh, you can handle me any time.”

And when your stare said you didn’t seem to find that quite as funny as he did, he only shrugged, still smiling. “Sorry, you left yourself wide open for that one.”

“I did.” You admitted. “But I still want to hear the story of that driver’s license. And why did you even have one to begin with? Seems a little unecessary.” You said, still moving up every few moments as you neared the bottom of the stairs.

Yet he just kept smirking at you, almost a seeming delight in his eyes then, realizing that you were that curious about it. “Now who’s impatient?” He taunted, just before turning back to flash said documents to one of the workers now checking them.

“Do you have anything to declare?” The woman asked him.

With the way he paused, you knew his brain was churning then to select whatever he would deem the funniest or wittiest response. But as odd of looks as you were all already getting, mostly from Hank and Kurt’s vivid blue skin as usual, it probably would be best not to test the waters any further. You did want to get home after all.

“We don’t,” You answered before he could, relieved when she seemed to want to hurry you all aboard and away from her as much as you did. She handed Peter’s passport back to him, then took your own in quick succession to glance it over as well before seeming satisfied enough as she handed it back to you.

After you were past her, it was the issue of the stairs however. Obviously they expected Peter to just figure it out, but you knew you could lend a hand. The trick was going to be in trying to keep that act of levitation a little more subtle though, still being in mixed company here.

“You should have let me have a little more fun with her,” Peter said, though glancing back with some curiosity as you moved behind him.

“I don’t want to make a scene,” you responded quietly. Really, referring to her just as much as what you were about to attempt. “Pretend you’re going up the stairs anyway. Move a little like you’re walking.”

The person in front of him on the stairs wasn’t looking back, and only more of your friends were directly behind you. With the sidewalls of the stairway also going up about waist high, the people still on the ground couldn’t see the little glow that went around his legs as you willed him to levitate just high enough that his cast didn’t drag the steps as you both continued towards the plane’s door.

“Woah, hey at least give a warning.” He responded, lifting his good leg up enough for it to also miss the now passing steps even as his crutches hit once or twice.”

“I did.” You answered, though still trying to look past him the whole time to make sure no one was looking back from the plane’s doorway. Once you’d gotten nearly to the top, you set him back down to do the last couple steps on his own and enter the plane normally.

Once inside though, the aisle really was too narrow to use his crutches properly. Maybe on a more normal flight more measures would have been taken to assist the disabled, but there sure wasn’t anyone offering anything today.

Kurt was behind you, and offered to take the crutches while Peter put one arm over your shoulders and you both half hobbled, half shimmied awkwardly down the aisle until you reached the first open seating.

Being a larger jet meant for transoceanic travel, there were seats in groups of three on both the left and right side of the plane, but a row of four in the center as well. You ended up in one of the rows of three on the side, letting Peter take the aisle seat to have more room for his leg, while you sat in the middle, and Kurt beside you at the window as he’d laid Peter’s crutches down on the floor underneath the seats.

You finally felt like maybe you could relax a little then, just glancing around a bit. There were some old magazines in the seatback in front of you, but probably not much of anything else any of you could really do now in however many hours it’d take to get stateside. You were pretty sure a passenger jet like this would be a good deal slower than the high tech military one you’d gone to Egypt in.

You were only looking up at the light and air vent controls above your seat next as a sudden movement and curse surprised you as your eyes darted back to the aisle.

“Goddamnit.” A man said.

His soft sided suitcase had just burst open, spilling most of his clothing onto the floor as he then paused to shove it back in as best he could. He struggled with the zipper a moment, but it only slid back and forth uselessly, no longer sealing the bag back. “Cheap ass government issue,” He added, finally just picking up the whole thing and holding it closed against his chest as he walked on.

And that random event would have been nothing more to you, except for the way you saw Peter move his head back then, sucking in a pained breath through his teeth as he gripped the armrest between you.

Kurt noticed too, leaning forward as he asked, “Are you alright, Peter?”

���Yeah, sure,” He grunted.

But as you glanced down to see Peter’s other hand now clutching his broken leg, you also saw a newly materialized pair of sunglasses pressed between his fingertips and the cast. As well as a military jacket now folded messily under his seat.

“That was you.” You spoke abruptly, yet low enough just for the three of you. “You took those out of that man’s suitcase!”

“Well I didn’t think the stupid zipper was going to break when I tried to close it back! He’s right, that was a cheap zipper.” Peter admitted.

“And you hurt yourself trying to get back into the chair didn’t you?” You chided a little more, not quite sure what was worse, the thievery or the recklessness.

“I hit my foot on that damn bracket, and the vibration went through the bone.” He motioned to the metal bracing that bolted the seat in front of him to the floor.

“Thou shalt not steal,” Kurt said, not judgmentally, but just as if this should be an inherent truth as he still looked to Peter with concern.

“Oh man, so I get like twelve hours of flight time to look forward to, trapped next to you two goody two shoes then? Awesome.” He joked back, though already looking back down then at the sunglasses in his hand with a little admiration. They had a mirror finish as he spun them over in his fingers. “And hey, you guys are the ones who burned up my last jacket back in Egypt, remember? I’m not going home empty handed. I’d been wanting one of those army looking deals since we got here. Buzzcut there seemed like he’d have one.”

“Mama look!”

All three of you paused your talk then to see a small boy now standing in the aisle as the movement of people had slowed once more with passengers stopping to put their luggage in the overhead bins. But his mother didn’t seem to be paying him any mind as he continued to point. She was talking to the man in front of her as that man fought with an oversized suitcase.

The boy continued staring though, likely at Kurt. But it wasn’t really a fearful gaze, more excited than anything.

“Guten tag,” Kurt said cheerfully regardless, just waving in return.

And at that the boy’s eyes really went wide. “Sprichst du Deutsch?” The boy stammered a little, yet with the biggest grin.

“Ja, ich komme aus Bayern.” Kurt replied.

And that spontaneous connection over a surprise shared language would have been truly adorable too if Peter wasn’t suddenly leaning right over you to interrupt it.

“Yo, Kurt, ask him if I can borrow some of his markers!” Peter pleaded abruptly.

“What?” You and Kurt both said almost simultaneously.

“The markers, he doesn’t need the whole box. I only need like three colors, tops.” Peter answered, motioning back to the boy. And when still neither you or Kurt seemed to understand this sudden sense of urgency, Peter actually put his hands together like making a little prayer. “You told me you didn’t want me to steal, so I’m trying not to. Come on, at least a red one?”

Kurt really was confused then, but he did lean forward, saying something else in German to the boy.

At that request the boy did look down at the coloring book rolled in one of his hands, and the small pack of markers sticking out of his pocket that evidently Peter had somehow put a target lock on.

But he really did like Kurt apparently as after only a couple moments of thought, the little boy opened the marker box to pull three out.

“Sweet!” Peter said as the child handed over red, black, and blue to him. “I’ll give them back in a bit, right?” Peter added though, smirking at him. “Thanks, little dude.”

And it was all just the oddest thing to you as the boy only happily waved bye to Kurt after, the movement of people starting again as he and his mother continued on to go sit a few rows further back.

“I don’t even know what just happened,” you said after they were gone.

“That was world class negotiating, babe. I mean Kurt literally just smooth talked some colors from a kid with a coloring book in his hand on a twelve hour flight.” Peter responded.

“You are actually going to give them back though aren’t you? You told him you would.” Kurt replied with a little concern.

Peter kind of shrugged, “I mean yeah, I guess so.”

“He’ll give them back,” You added for him. “Or I will.”

“Okay, okay, jeez. Yes, it’s not going to take me hours to do anything. Ever. I’ll have this baby gussied up in no time.” Peter responded, patting his cast gently. “You can’t leave a blank canvas to a guy like me. Especially if I have to stare at this thing for weeks.”

And he was right, you weren’t even in the air yet before he just started doodling away.

————————————

Thankfully the plane only stopped one more time, at an air base in France to pickup more U.S. government evacuees, before at last the wings were over water and you were finally pointed home.

By now Peter’s cast looked more like those advertisements or example sheets on the walls of any tattoo parlor. Yet when you made a comment as such, the sly grin you got in return made you instantly wish you’d thought that through a little better.

“Ah, so you’ve been in a tattoo parlor then?” Oh he was so interested in this topic now. You could see that wolfish look coming into his eyes. “You’ve got some ink somewhere?”

“I don’t.” You’d thought of doing it though, quite a bit actually. But it was such a commitment. You’d probably keep that tidbit to yourself for a while though, lest he try to drag you immediately to a tattoo shop on the drive to D.C.

“I’m not totally sure I believe you.” He answered, though leaning in to whisper in your ear after, “Think you’ll let me check some time?”

The fact that he was still so bold with Kurt literally right beside you, made you wonder if you really should be making sure whatever rental car you ended up with later was just some sort of bucket seat tiny two door thing. If it was a boat like sedan with a full bench back seat, you might actually be in trouble tonight.

“We’ll see,” Is all you answered back though. At least for a moment before you realized now was as good a time as any to flip the conversation back on him.

“So when do I get to hear the Pietro story?” You asked, relaxed into your seat as much as the small space would allow. “Kurt and I have nothing else to do. Let’s hear it.”

“The who?” Peter teased back, just working on giving one of the pin up girls he’d drawn a little better shading.

“Or Django. Either Pietro or Django, they both sound pretty interesting I think.” You replied playfully.

Peter glanced at you, but smiled a little. “You’re just going to be disappointed actually. I was just hyping it up, there’s really nothing to it.”

“Then go on, it’ll be a quick story then.” You still wanted to know more about him of course, and every piece was just another part of the whole picture.

“Django was my grandfather. Mom’s dad back in the old country.” Peter replied, still just finding more and more little details to add to his drawings. “I didn’t really know him. Mom never liked to take us back there much to visit. I mean it makes more sense now of course. She didn’t want my Dad to know where she was. But back then I just figured she thought that place was creepy.”

“What place?” Kurt asked innocently enough. You both were actually equally curious to whatever Peter might say about his family. Like he’d said before, Kurt wasn’t used to having friends his own age. And learning more about each other now was all part of growing those bonds.

“Wundagore Mountain,” Peter replied. “And trust me, as much as it sounds like the newest ride at some amusement park, it’s totally not. I remember being like five and going back there thinking Dracula himself was going to yank me out of that freaking soviet tin can Mom was driving us around in. Wanda still swears she heard voices up there. I mean I don’t know, we stayed with Mom’s aunt one time and she tells us this thing so creatively called Man-Beast was going to come down off the mountain for us if we didn’t behave.”

Peter glanced over to the both of you, further clarifying, “Not like Hank or anything though, it was basically just a werewolf I think. But if it’s a werewolf, call it that you know? What the hell is a Man-Beast? They had so many weird things that could take children. I feel like every story was, oh but don’t do that or Porga will get you. Oops, you talked back to your mother? Guess Tagar is coming tonight. Darn, forgot to brush your teeth? Nice knowing you, kid, Bova’s going to take you to live in the woods forever now.”

You were sort of just staring and listening, but out the corner of your eye you saw Kurt only nodding as if in complete understanding. You would hazard a guess that parts of Bavaria evidently had very similar folklore. Between the two of them, they could likely trade stories like this the whole flight.

But Peter just continued, “But yeah, Django was my gramps, just met him a couple times. And Pietro...well that’s just me. Like I said, nothing special. I was Pietro all the way until Mom started us in kindergarten.” He smirked a little. “Guess she figured the dorky little Jewish kid with the curly brown hair needed all the help he could get fitting in with all the John’s, Mark’s, and Scott’s of the world. And yeah, feel free to tell Summers I said that later.”

So she’d Americanized his name. It wasn’t unheard of with first or second generation immigrants, but still there was something a little sad about that. Yet you smiled softly, that image of the kindergarten age Peter frankly adorable in your mind. “You were a baby brunette?”

“Until the old X-gene flared at 12 or whenever that was yeah,” But he paused, a little surprised, just then realizing what look that was on your face. “Oh stop, you’re picturing it now aren’t you? I was a total dork, don’t do that. Seriously, no! I swear I will never let you find those pictures.”

But you just kept grinning. “No need. I can imagine this forever.”

“Hell, where is Jean?” Peter looked around in a little show of dramatics. “Memory wipe needed on aisle 3, Red.”

It was just too funny though, and honestly it made all the sense in the world. The physical resemblance between Peter and Erik would have been a lot more noticeable had they both still shared similar hair color and texture. Yes, you would bet Peter’s hair had even had that bit of auburn in it too back then.

“But I do have a question,” You spoke then, your tone sincere. “What do you actually want to be called?”

“Sexy?” He answered at once.

But you didn’t let him off the hook that easily, still waiting patiently for the real answer as you just watched him.

Finally he relented, but still seeming a bit non committal. “I mean I’ve heard both for so long, I answer to either. Really, I do. But if the Django comes out though, that’s Defcon 1. It means I’ve done something catastrophically wrong and Mom is about to go full on nuclear on my ass.”

You considered this for a moment, before trying it. “Pietro,” you said, looking for any difference in his expression.

He did grin at you, eyebrows going up a little.

“Peter?” You asked then.

And to that he just continued to smile. “Babe, it’s like you’re trying to pick the name of the new dog.” He raised the pitch of his voice a little, imitating a generic wife you guessed. “Honey, which one does he like better? Did his ears go up at that one?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to figure things out,” you defended. “Guess I’ll just go back to imagining all that curly brown hair now.”

“Noooo.” He whined.

———————————

The three of you had joked and talked for quite a while. But somewhere, maybe about two thirds through the flight, things did quiet back down. Eventually you decided to try and sleep some if you could. You weren’t tired yet, but you knew you would be by the time you landed.

With the difference in timezones, even though you’d left early in the morning Greek time, it would likely only be around lunch time in the U.S. after landing. While you already would have been traveling for almost twelve hours.

It was as if you’d get to repeat the day all over again. You had all that time still ahead of you, including having to convince the Professor to let you drive Peter home.

You closed your eyes for a bit, thinking of all the hypotheticals of what you could say. What you would argue if needed, and what Xavier may say in response. But as you tried to let your thoughts drift further, you realized you’d crossed your arms, little chill bumps on them as you opened your eyes to look up at the air vent above you.

Was it stuck open? You fiddled with it a moment, but felt no difference. Shifting to sit back up a little, you looked at the seatback in front of you again as well, in the pouch there with the old magazines.

“They don’t have any blankets,” Peter said quietly, easily interpreting the reasoning for your search.

You’d thought he’d already been asleep just as Kurt was though. You were surprised as Peter reached out, smoothly laying that jacket over your chest and arms. The one he’d taken earlier.

“See.” He added. “Crime does pay sometimes.”

You gave him a skeptical look still, but the jacket really did make the difference as you leaned back again in the seat, snuggling into it. “Thank you, thief.” You answered softly.

“Any time.” He smiled a little, before reaching down to click the button on the armrest between your seats. He moved the armrest up and out of the way, then running a warm hand under the jacket to find one of your own.

You grasped his hand when they met, intertwining your fingers together.

“Have a nice nap, see you in Jersey.” He said, yet closing his own eyes as well.

“See you in Jersey, Pietro.”

You felt him squeeze your hand more at that, and you couldn’t help but smile.

————————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[forever-rogue]

Afterglow - Part 12

A/N: Hello! Are you all ready for some of the softest Frankie and Bee? Because yeah...it got soft! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: language, references to sex, one punch

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

1 Year Later

“Hi Honey!” an exhausted sigh escaped your lips as you dropped your book bag by the door and kicked off your shoes. The smell of something delicious cooking immediately reached your nose as you the sound of two feet and four paws met your ears. A grin spread across your face as you spied Daisy and Frankie rushing towards you. 

“Hi Bee,” he beamed as he wrapped you up in his arms and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “you’re just in time - I just finished dinner. How was school?”

“Good,” you pressed a kiss to his lips before reaching down and giving Daisy a handful of pets, “long though. I’m exhausted! Oh, but we learned about lemurs and their evolutionary history and it was just so...interesting. They’re so cute and there’s so many species. For one of our assignments we need to go and observe primates at the zoo and I thought I could watch the lemurs! But - oops, I don’t want to bore you. How was your day, Frankie?”

“You will never bore me,” he quickly cut off any negative thoughts or ideas you had. You couldn’t help but grin at him, as he reached up and gently cradled your face in his hands, “whatever you want to tell me, you know you can. I want to hear about it all. Yes?”

“Yes,” you agreed, knowing that if this was anyone but Frankie, the outcome would have been a very different result. Especially if you’d gotten...no. You weren’t even going to let your mind go to that place. Not when your whole world was in front of you, “I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too,” a gentle brush of noses as the two of you grinned at each other. You opened your mouth to say something but were quickly cut off by the loud rumbling of your stomach, “dinner time. Come on, let’s eat and you can tell me all about your lemurs.”

“Only if you tell me all about your day,” you took his outstretched hand and let him lead you to the kitchen. To your delighted surprise, you found a bouquet of sunflowers and daisies on the counter, “those are beautiful!”

“They’re for you,” he said simply as he pulled two plates from the cabinet. Your brows knitted together in surprise as you quickly wracked your brain as you tried to figure out if you’d missed some sort of holiday or anniversary, “they’re a just because I felt like it surprise. I saw them when I took Daisy for a walk after work. I thought you’d like them.”

“I love them,” you touched some of the soft petals, “and you - very, very much.”

“I know,” he winked as he plated up some of the pasta and sauce and you took a seat at the counter. You liked this - this simple, wonderful domesticity of getting to come home with and live with your lover. Not just your lover - but your love. The man that had had your heart forever it had seemed. You couldn’t help but spot the pictures of the two of you on the fridge, beaming and grinning from ear to ear. They’d been taken on a camping trip the two of you’d gone on earlier in the year. Frankie caught your far off look and chuckled softly, “what’s wrong, sweet Bee?”

“Nothing,” you reassured him, “I just...I like this a whole lot. Us, being together, everything. It feels so...right, natural.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he promised as he set a plate in front of you, “you were always the one, Bee.”

“Just like you, Francisco,” you leaned into his side as he brought his plate next to you. Just before sitting down, he reached into the giant glass canister that was filled with treats for Daisy. She looked at him with wide, shining eyes as he gently handed her a few treats; you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, “I imagine she’s had dinner and cannot be starving.”

“That may be, but we’re eating now and I don’t want her to feel left out,” he insisted as you broke into a fit of giggles at his silly insistence. He scoffed playfully before taking his spot next to you, “you laugh, but you know she’s very perceptive.”

“I do know,” you agreed as you nudged his side, “what a caring, considerate boyfriend I have indeed.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek as you looked at him fondly. There was so much light and life behind his eyes now, so much happiness. They crinkled into the corners whenever he smiled and his one dimple made a spectacular appearance. His hair had grown out more, chocolate tinged with caramel and curling deliciously at the ends. He looked so happy and healthy, so much better than he had when you’d first reunited. It hadn’t always been easy for him, and some days were harder, but he’d never had a set back once, despite the darkest days. In the end, it had been you. You’d been the shining beacon, the light of his life, and had gotten him to have the courage and strength to get through it all. Just like on your bad days, he was there for you. 

“It’s been a year, you know,” he whispered after you’d eaten in silence, using a piece of bread to scoop up that last bit of sauce. You looked at him in confusion for a moment before you realized what he was speaking about, “since we’ve been together...again.”

“It feels like it’s been no time at all,” you said softly, “and yet it feels like its always been like this.”

“I agree,” he grinned as he swallowed his last bite, causing you to giggle as some sauce clung to the corner of his mouth. His brows knitted in confusion as you leaned over and swiped your thumb over the sauce and wiped it away. Frankie grabbed your hand and licked your thumb clean before holding it against his scruffy cheek. You felt flushed at the gesture, both intimate and sweet in its own way, “I love you, Bee.”

“I love you too, you silly man,” you sighed in content.

“Now - tell me all about your day,” he insisted as he walked to the fridge to get a couple of beers, “no details spared. Hit me with them!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“This is beautiful,” you made quick work of unzipping your light sweater and tossing it onto the large, plush blanket Frankie had laid out for your little picnic. Despite having seen you in countless variations of clothing, Frankie still managed to be astounded by your beauty; he felt his heart thump wildly as he looked at you in only your sports bra and leggings. You turned and gave him a curious smile, “what? Do I have something on my face?”

"No, it's nothing," he promised with a shy smile as you walked over to him and played a lock of his hair, "you're beautiful."

"Oh my gosh," you snorted with laughter as you gently pushed his chest, "such a fool, Francisco! You've known me for how long? You can't possibly still feel that way."

"I'll always feel that way about you," he insisted with a cheeky grin, "especially when you look like that. Nice ass."

"Haha," you flipped him the bird before strolling over to the water. Stopping at the edge, you made a quick show of pulling off your leggings and bra. Luckily, you were in a very secluded area and no one was likely to stumble upon you, "have you seen yours? Nice ass! Now come on and get in the water!"

"Why?" he groaned lightly at the enticing sight as he pulled off his shirt and shorts, and came over to you. You both knew he would give in to you. He would be a fool to turn you done.

"Its a perfect day for a swim," you insisted before diving into the cool, gentle water, "come on in, Frankie! The water is wonderful!"

“It’s cold,” he huffed lightly, watching as you swam back up and broke through the surface, grinning at him. He reminded you so much of the boy you had convinced to swim with you when you were just kids. You splashed some water at him, causing him to give a jokingly stern look before he swam over to you, “I’m going to get you!”

“No!” you grinned like mad before trying to swim away, but he was quick to catch up and wrap his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest, “you’re a cheater!”

“How am I a cheater?” he laughed as he rested his chin on your shoulder, “all I did was swim!”

“I don’t know,” you insisted, but I know you did. He laughed as you quit struggling against him and let him hold you. As his grip loosened, you turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck before pressing a kiss to his plush lips, “hi.”

“Hi,” naturally Frankie took every opportunity to steal a kiss from you. You studied his face, bringing a hand to his cheek as you used a few fingers to trace over his features and breathe in him. How he was still the same boy underneath the years that had aged him to the man you now loved, “what?”

“Nothing,” you repeated his words from earlier, “I just love you a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

“Well that’s good,” his grin stretched from ear to ear, “or else this would have been really awkward, because I happen to love you a lot, a lot too.”

You only made a small sound in your throat before you grabbed his face and pulled him towards you and crashed your lips again his, “fuck - I love you so much.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"This was a good idea," you popped a few berries into your mouth before turning your head back to soak up some soon, "what caused this spur of the moment decision?"

Except it wasn’t spur of the moment at all. But you didn't know that yet.

“Nothing really,” he insisted with a small grin, “just wanted to spend the afternoon with my favorite girl.”

“Favorite, huh? What about Daisy? I see those eyes you two pull at each other,” you grabbed the glass champagne and downed it all in one, hiccuping at the bubbly taste. He wasted no time in refilling your glass and his, trying to summon up the courage for what he really wanted to say.

“Okay, you got me - one of my favorite girls,” he laughed before clinking his glass against yours. You let out a small sigh before lying on your back and resting your head on Frankie’s thigh, “tired?”

“A little,” your yawn gave you away, “it was a long night and someone insisted I get up early and go hiking and everything. Plus the warm sun and food isn’t helping. I promise I won’t fall asleep...for long.”

“Mhmm,” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

It was silent for some time, only the gentle ebb of the lake and the sounds of birds in the trees and creatures on the ground meeting your ears. You could have dozed off, but didn’t quite yet...instead you soaked up Frankie’s warmth and played with his hand in yours.

“Frankie…?” you asked softly after a while. He was leaning up against a large tree, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was asleep. Frankie made a small sound, encouraging you to go on, “have you ever...you know what? Never mind, it’s silly.”

“You know you can ask me anything, Bee. If it matters to you, it’s not silly.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” you swallowed the lump in your throat and you were suddenly glad your eyes were closed against the sun and he had his sunglasses on, “I-I mean specifically us having kids. I know we joked about it as kids but...what about now?”

Frankie’s breath hitched in his throat and he almost dropped your hand in surprise. He was so choked up, he almost couldn’t get the words out, “I-I...ummm…”

“It’s weird, huh?” you hoped this wasn’t him easily rejecting you, “right before I was going to marry Chad, he thought I was pregnant for a moment and he just seemed so….I dunno. He told me I shouldn’t be pregnant before we get married and then we should have a kid and get it over with. Can you believe it - just get it over? I never...I would never want to have a child with someone that was only having one to be able to say they have one. It’s horrid.”

“He really was the worst.”

“In every way,” you agreed with a tense laugh, “I’m sorry for just springing this on you...it’s just been on my mind, I guess.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he insisted as he shifted you, so you were perched in his lap and facing him. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and studied you intently, “yes, I have thought about it. Many times...there’s no one else I’d want children with besides you, Bee. I-I...I would be lucky to have you as the mother of my child...or children. I’ve often thought about a little baby bee running around.”

“Baby bee,” your eyes stung lightly with tears as you repeated the words back to him; your throat constricted with emotion at the mere thought, “I love that...what about a baby fish? I like the sound of that too. What a lucky child they would be to call you their father.”

“I would never want to have a child just because that’s what society wants,” he swiped his thumb over your cheek to brush away the single tear, “I want a child because we’re in love and that’s what we decide to do. If and when you’re ready, I-I’ll be ready too.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly as his large hand rested on your neck, and he nodded, “because I’d very much like if you knocked me up, Francisco Morales.”

You raised an eyebrow at him before the two of you broke into fits of laughter. That was one of the many beautiful things about your relationship; no matter how serious and important it was, you both were able to find a laugh and look on the bright side. 

“I wouldn’t mind knocking you up,” he mused playfully, “we might have to try a lot though...I don’t know if you can handle it.”

“Oh, I think I can handle it,” you insisted, “can you?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he grinned as you laid against his chest and let him wrap his arms around you, “there’s one more thing I want to do first…well not necessarily first, but I-I want to ask.”

“What is it?” you asked as you placed gentle kisses to the bare skin of his shoulder. He shifted lightly and swallowed the lump in his throat, “Francisco?”

“I…" without saying a word, he reached into his pocket and fumbled around for a moment as you watched him with a mixture of amusement and confusion. When he appeared to be satisfied, he paused for a moment before inhaling and deeply, "there's something important I want to ask - that I've been meaning to ask you for so long now. I think now is the perfect time."

"Francisco," your hand was on his chest as he held his hand up and displayed a small, velvet pouch. You raised an eyebrow in question, instinctively reaching for it but stopping yourself at the last moment, "baby-"

"Take it," he whispered softly as you obliged him and delicately procured the black pouch from him. Curiously opening it up, your heart almost stood still as you pulled out the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. Your mouth dropped open as you looked between him and the ring a couple of times, "do you like it, Honey Bee? I-I helped design it and I hope you like it...but if you don't-"

You quickly cut him off with a kiss, pulling him as tightly against your body as you could, only pulling back when you were left breathless, "I love it - it's beautiful. I love you, so much Francisco. Are you...asking me-"

"Will you marry me, Bee?" he gently took the ring from your shaking hands as you offered him your left hand.

"Yes," you whispered as he slipped the ring onto your finger. You took his hand in yours and gave it a tight squeeze, "yes, a million times yes. Of course I'll marry you. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Me too," he grinned as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew, deep down, that the chances that you'd say were slim, but still, there was always that little bit of doubt, "you were always the one. Always."

"Yeah," you agreed with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, "you're the one, my love. It was always you."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"You didn't have to do all of this," Frankie's eyes were with wonder and excitement as he looked around the exquisite restaurant. It was fancy, definitely more so than anything you'd normally consider, but you'd wanted to do this for Frankie. The man had been complaining about wanting a good steak for so long, you'd taken it upon yourself to find the best steak restaurant in town.

"I know," you promised him as you pulled out his chair for him and motioned for him to sit down, "but I wanted to, my love. You always take such good care of me, I figured we - you - deserve it. Plus, think of it as a way of celebrating our engagement!"

"I can't argue with that," he smiled lightly as he reached across the table and put his hand over yours. He knew that while excited about your engagement and wanting to tell the world, part of it had been hard on you. Your family still wasn't on speaking terms with you, by their choice and despite efforts from both of you. It wasn't something that plagued you constantly, but times like this made you wish things were different. 

The silver lining in all of this was that through your reunion with Frankie, you'd gained his friends as yours as well - the infamous bee they always called you. You still had Allie and Anna, who were absolutely more than thrilled to know Frankie was your person. Plus with starting school again, you'd made friends with several people that you enjoyed spending time in and out of class with. At the end of the day, however, there was nothing better than getting to come to Frankie. He was your everything, as you were his.

"What are you thinking?" he asked as you took a sip of wine as the two of you waited for your meals, “you have your thinking face on.”

“You always knew me too well,” you teased lightly, “I was thinking about how much I love you. How lucky I am to be with you, and get to call you mine. That no matter how much we’ve been through, we get to be together in the end. That no matter what happens with my family or whatever, that I’ll have you, and so many others. That you are my family.” 

“Always,” he promised with a small smile, “I’ll always be here for you. I’m not going anywhere, you know that. You are my family, my home, and my heart, Bee. You always have been.”

“I know that,” you beamed, lighting up his whole world, “I always have too...I love you.”

“I love you too.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I think I’ve got room for dessert, don’t you?” you teased as you stood up and reached for his hand. Frankie’s eyes grew wide as he realized exactly what you meant, “the pie we baked yesterday, and I think there’s ice cream in the freezer.” 

“Baby-” he was somewhere between a laugh and a groan as trailed at your side, “you’re killing me.”

“Oops,” you teased, completely amused by his reaction. 

"Well, well, well," your blood ran cold at the sound of the eerily familiar voice. Frankie kept walking, unaware that anything was wrong until he noticed you weren't following him. Turning on your hell, you slowly came face to face with Chad, "look what the cat dragged in. Didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"And that still would have been too soon," you lightly rolled your eyes, "and while I feel like I'd love to stay and argue and rehash everything, I'm going to be the better person here and just walk away."

"Because you have nothing to say," he chided as you tried to blow him off. But then you saw who he was with, "pity."

"Yes," you sighed, "what a pity indeed. Clarissa! I didn't think I'd see you again either. Are you together? I didn't think you liked Chad- all the time you spent talking shit about him, must not have been real, huh?"

Your friend, former friend anyway, looked at you with a scowl as pursed her lips but remained silent. It might have been pathetic and petty, but in the moment you couldn't help it.

"And just who are you here with? That pathetic looking man over there? The one that's watching you with concern...ahh, yes, an engagement ring," his eyes flicked to your left hand as you felt your blood boil. He could taunt and make fun of you all he wanted, but he would never say a word about Frankie, "its...precious. He must have spent his whole life savings on that. I don't get it...you had everything - I gave you everything - wealth, status, luxury and you left all of that...and for what?"

"Don't you dare," you held up your finger and jammed in front of his face, "don't you dare talk about him. He is a far better person than you will ever be. He is everything to me. I left you because I couldn't commit to a loveless marriage and society and people I don't care about. You never loved me, let's be honest. You loved my name, my family's wealth, their status. That's all that ever mattered to you. And yet I am the one who sounds pathetic?"

"What can he offer you?" Chad smirked as he leaned back in his chair.

"Bee-" Frankie could easily sense the tension flowing between the two of you and had come over and reached for your hand, "come on, let's go home."

"Bee," Chad almost howled with laughter as you glared at him, "how perfectly adorable. What a cute couple - the failed socialite and the...what? Some sort of kitchen boy?"

"That is enough," you almost shouted at him as seemingly half the restaurant turned to look at you, "stop this. What is the point?"

"Does there have to be a point?" there was nothing but a smug grin on his face, "you could have had it all and now you've got...him. You could have so many other choices and now what? You're going to be-"

But before he could say anything else, you swung your arm back and landed a punch, right in the middle of face. The action shocked you so much, and Frankie and Clarissa - and the rest of the establishment that you were all awestruck for a moment. The crack of his nose had surprised you most and you’d immediately recoiled and clutched your aching hand. Frankie’s hand found your shoulders as he pulled you against his chest.

"Stupid bitch!" Chad jumped to his feet and clutched his bleeding nose, “who do you think you are?”

“Come on,” Frankie’s voice was low and gentle in your ear as he pulled you back from the scene, “we have to go.”

Nodding lightly, you let him usher you away, but not before you turned around to speak your last bit of peace, “I hope I never see you again. But I do hope you find someone you love, truly love, and someone that loves you. Because there is nothing better, and even though you are horrid, you deserve it too. There is one thing I learned from you - how to be truly loved by someone and let them love you back, and for that I thank you.”

You turned around before he, or anyone else, could say anything, grabbing Frankie’s hand with your own and pulling him out of the restaurant amid quiet murmurs. 

Only stopping once you were outside, you let go of his hand and sighed heavily. Frankie looked at you with something akin to a mix of awe and love as he took your injured hand and studied it. You winced slightly as pain had already settled in the joints, “that was...impressive. Where did you learn to throw a punch like that, Bee?”

“You,” you admitted with a laugh, “back when we were kids! You said it was important to always know how to throw a good punch and you taught me. I guess I must have remembered it after all these years.”

“I guess I taught you well,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle to the already prominent bruising, “so that was him, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” you agreed with a bitter huff, “could you have imagined if I’d married him? How absolutely terrible that would have been. I made the right choice, I know, and I’ve known that for a long time now. It was always you.”

He leaned over and kissed you softly, tasting faintly of the sweet wine you’d had with dinner, “let’s go home, sweet Bee. We have to tend to your hand and not let it get worse.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Frankie?” you were laid on top of him on the small bed in your dorm, fighting off sleep as he continued to read. You’d insisted on stopping for a nap, and he’d insisted he needed to finish his book that day - he was deeply invested. He made a small sound, urging you to continue you on as he played with a lock of your hair, “I have a request - it’s silly…”

“Tell me,” he insisted softly as he set his book down, “come on, Bee, tell me.”

“When we’re old and married,” you wrapped your arms around his middle as you rested your head on his chest, “I want a dog, and a house with a big yard where we can grow lots of flowers. And two kids - at least. I-I know it’s silly, to think about the future so far ahead, but I like to dream.”

“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” he promised softly, a flush of warmth rising in his chest and face, “I-I like the sound of that, Bee. Does that include a white picket fence? I was thinking more about like..shrubs...or lots of flowers, like an open concept.”

“It includes whatever you want,” you turned and grinned at him, pressing a kiss to his lips, “as long as you’re there, it doesn’t matter. None of it does, as long as you’re there. I love you so much, Francisco.”

“Of course I will be,” he promised softly, “I’m not going anywhere. I love you too, Bee.”

“Read to me?” you asked as you handed his book back to him, “I can’t think of a better thing than falling asleep to the sound of your voice.”

“Anything for you, Bee…my Bee.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it. 

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.  

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first. 

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments. 

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball. 

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body. 

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.  

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them. 

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.” 

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.  

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air. 

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her. 

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage. 

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her. 

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?” 

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is. 

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much? 

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery. 

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely. 

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.” 

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace. 

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong. 

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend. 

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod. 

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up. 

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.  

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?" 

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.” 

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off. 

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.” 

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom, 

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

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

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?” 

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier. 

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her. 

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words. 

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

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

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[funtimebunnyblog]

Okay so first off, I love bears! 😭 they’re so cute! I would have one as a pet if I could. How do you think the pillarmen would react to their s/o finding a bear and immediately becoming friends with it? Doesn’t matter that it’s literally a wild animal. It saw s/o and was like “this is my friend now” and it follows her everywhere. But the bear is “submissive” to her. It doesn’t attack at all and does that thing where it shows it’s belly to her all the time. The bear likes the pillar men, but not as much as it loves s/o.

Ahhh! My dear Anon, this is is such a sweet idea! 🥰🥰🥰 I have the very same feelings about keeping a Fox as a Pet ❤ I very much would if I could! 😌

This started out as a few simple headcanons buuuuut~... 😅 I got carried away and turned it into a full fic! 😘😇 Please “bear�� with me and enjoy! 🐻🐻🐻

The Pillarmen’s s/o brings Home a Bear...  (A bit of a long fic; Under the cut for length!)

(I’ll stop making bear puns from this point on, I swear! I just couldn’t pass up the chance to use this picture. in any case... Please do not attempt anything that your read here with a real life Bear or any woodland creature that is dangerous for that matter! If you happen to find a lost little Bear in your travels, do the responsible thing and contact a forestry! ~FunBun)

  "What," Your head snapped up as someone spoke from behind; your eyes trailing up a most familiar muscular torso to eventually meet the disapproving gaze of Kars looming over you. The Pillarman's eyes were wide and his face unreadable, "is that?"

There you were, sitting on the front porch which was not an abnormal occurrence as this was your house and you did as you pleased...

Except for, of course, the fact that you were cradling a LIVING BABY BEAR in your lap and hand-feeding it a peanut butter sandwich!

"...A Friend." You said after a long moment, blinking up at the behemoth of a man. The Cub in your arms grasped at your hand with two huge chubby-toed paws as you pushed the last chunky bit of sandwich into its awaiting mouth; happily chewing away as if it didn't have a bother in the world.

Kars let out a long sigh, his barreled chest heaving as he reached up to pinch the space between his painted eyes with a forefinger and thumb.

"Why?" He questioned.

It was really the only thing he could say in that moment as thousands of questions rolled through his head like flotsam and jetsam. The Pillarmen struggled to keep a hold on himself, trying to give you the benefit of the doubt first before giving you the scolding he so wanted to.

He and the others knew very well you loved animals, which pleased the Pillarmen as they were Men who valued nature and precious life; Kars was no exception. They were most especially aware of your specific fixation on Bears but Kars never so much as gave the love for the creature a second thought.

However, right now, while you held a living Bear in your lap he was beginning to wish he had thought to tell you not to do something as foolish as take one in.

"Hey! I didn't do anything!" You defended yourself, allowing the Bear Cub you cradled to lick the remnants of the gooey sandwich from your fingers. You know exactly what he was thinking; he thought you deliberately went out and took the Bear!

Really, you hadn't done anything! Well... not this time anyways.

It all started when you had gone out for your morning walk in the woods, you happened to enjoy the crisp Spring air this time of year and it was a good way to get out of the house for a bit and away from the noise of the Four Pillarmen you adored that were living with you.

It was only when you were halfway down your usual route when you realized there was a little black Bear Cub following right behind you.

At first, you had feared the worst. Normally where there was a baby, there was a Mother not very far behind and despite your love for Bears you REALLY didn't want to have an encounter an angry Mother Bear that was searching for her lost baby and happened to think you were the one that took it. You did your best to avoid the baby Bear, walking fast and pretending not to notice it in hopes that it would simply give up tailing you eventually and go on its own way back to where it came from, despite the tugging of your heartstrings.

After some time of attempted avoid and evade the Cub didn't leave your side, ambling close at your heals and beginning to cry out for your attention. It became obvious to you it was all alone and even more obvious that it was hungry; as soon as it saw you it thought to remedy both those things.

Always having a big heart, you just couldn't bring yourself to leave the poor thing all alone out in the woods; especially not when it was clinging to your leg and looking up at you with those big honeyed eyes pleadingly...

You weren't supposed to get caught. You had planned to keep him a secret for at least a little while.

You had lead the baby back to the house and left it outside to its own devices on the doorstep for just a moment. Meanwhile you slipped into the kitchen to make, not one, but two peanut butter sandwiches to feed it. You really didn't have anything else to give it, you hadn't been expecting to feed a hungry little Bear anytime soon and there was nothing in it that would hurt the Cub anyways as it was mostly protein.

Your early return from your walk had gone unnoticed by the others (at least at first).

Thankfully, Santana hadn't been in the kitchen raiding the fridge like he normally did this time of morning and had been in the Livingroom with Esidisi instead, too invested in the video game they were playing to hear you come in.

Wamuu was out back chopping up more firewood to burn, as the nights were still very cold; the Warrior too far away to hear you and unable to see you with the house in the way.

Kars was supposed to be up in his study, up to his elbows in papers and practically dead to the world but of course (just when you wanted him to be working for once) he wasn't.

Somehow, he just always knew when something was amiss.

"Peanut followed me here," you explained, peering down at the squirming black fuzz ball in your lap that was still happily licking the peanut butter from its chops.

Kars clicked his tongue, "Peanut?"

He seemed even more displeased you had already named it; if you named something, it became hard to lose it. That was a rule many people followed through ancient times.

You let out a shaky laugh, ignoring the chunky paws inarticulately grasping at your clothes as a little pink tongue darted out from a tiny chestnut muzzle, dampening the glistening black button at the very tip.

Peanut was giving you a thorough sniff, making sure that he had consumed all of the delicious food you had brought him and that he hadn't missed a single morsel.

"It fits." You told him, smiling pathetically as you shrugged your shoulders.

Ruby eyes drifted down to the little creature squirming in your lap for more than a beat before he let out another sigh; this time it didn't sound as stern and disapproving as the first but it still sent a shiver down your spine. His lips pulled into a sympathetic frown as he closed the distance between you two, crouching at your side.

"Dear one," he spoke, using the tone he typically reserved for when he was trying to comfort you or give you some advice. "We cannot keep Peanut."

Immediately, you felt your heart quiver at his words; the pulse of the muscle stopped all together as you looked up at him. His eyes, normally the epitome of inhuman and predatory, now softened.

You knew very well he would have this talk with you, albeit much sooner than you anticipated originally, but it didn't change the fact it was making your heart clench painfully in your chest.

"Why?" You questioned. Now it was all you could really say in that moment as everything else that tried to come out got jumbled up in your throat.

You really didn't need to ask such a question however, as you already knew the answer.

"My sunshine, he's a wild Animal; a predator. He may be a small creature now but Cubs like Peanut grow very quickly indeed." He explained gently, wrapping one muscular arm around you. "And as he grows, his appetite will grow; you won't be able to feed him simple sandwiches forever."

Your lips scrunched up as you peered down at the now quiescent black ball of fuzz cradled in your arms. Peanut, his belly now full and all the peanut butter thoroughly cleaned from his paws and face, had closed his eyes and was slowly falling down into a most comfortable mid-morning nap.

He was so cute; so damn cute you wanted to cry. A hand absentmindedly reached up to grasp one of his paws, your thumb tracing over the squishy pads of his feet and feeling the sharp little claws sprouting from the chubby toes like thorns from a rose.

All your life you loved Bears, no matter the kind; Panda Bears, Koala Bears, Grizzly Bears, Sun Bears, Polar Bears, even Black Bears like Peanut... and now here you were, holding one in your very own arms! Hugging it close to your body like one would an everyday Teddy Bear! A real life Bear had just waddled up to you in the forest, clinging to you as if appointing you as its new Mother and caregiver, cuddling in your arms like a loving pet and cooing as you fed it an icky-sticky delight.

It was a dream come true... and now Kars was asking you to wake up and cast it aside.

"But--... But--..." the quivering of your lip made it hard to find a foothold in this dispute.

"And there is also the matter of his behavior." Kars continued softly, one massive palm gently rubbing up and down your back as he spoke. "Bears can grow to be very territorial and temperamental creatures. Their maximum strength can out lift 10 Men and their maximum speed is faster than any vehicle you can drive."

By now your eyes were watering, the fuzzy spot in your arms no longer seemed so very fuzzy as the world around you blurred behind tears.

Kars, of course, was making sense as he always did and you didn't like it one bit.

The living God's frown only deepened as the glistening of the water pooling in your eyes caught his. Truly, he hated to see you cry. Seeing tears in your eyes was something that made him weak in places he never felt such weakness prior to falling in love with you... but your safety was in jeopardy; and that was something he, nor the other Pillarmen who loved you and dotted on you, didn't want to risk over one creature.

"We have to put him back where he belongs." He said; though his words still carried that softness it was undoubtedly an order not to be refused.

"Oh Kars," you sniffed, your nose crinkling as tears began to fall. "I can't do it!"

You turned more fully towards him, presenting the sleepy Cub; practically thrusting him into the Pillarman's arms.

"Just look at him!" You cried. "He's so small and he's all alone! I don't know what happened to his Mother but she's gone and... and..."

One massive hand found your cheek as the tears came harder, a calloused thumb swiping the raging rivers aside.

"Please Kars... I can't give him up... what if he--?...." you wimpered, unable to finish that thought. You were fully aware you had already lost for today as he shook his head sadly.

Your tears did nothing to sway him when he knew what he had to do.

His free hand slipped under the sleeping Cub, Peanut did little more than fill his palm, scooping him up and cradling him close to his chest as he stood.

Your arms had never felt more empty.

"I'm sorry, Beloved. It has to be done." He told you as you stared up at him with a crestfallen and teary gaze. "Chances are, his natural instincts will kick in and he will learn to take care of himself despite the absence of his Mother. Abandoned Cubs are more common than you think. Peanut needs to go back to the woods."

That was all that could be said, the Pillarman disappeared in one blinding flash; taking the Bear Cub with him.

You were left there sitting on the porch, scrubbing at your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater until the sensitive skin was raw in the cool Spring morning air. You managed to pull yourself together enough to not raise suspicion and headed back inside to make some coffee.

The morning passed quietly, when Kars made his eventual return to the house (sans Bear in hand) you didn't even look him in the eye.

You didn't deny that Kars had done the right thing, Peanut was in fact a wild Animal and belonged to the wilderness, but you still felt strangely bitter over it. So inexplicably angry it almost felt childish as you couldn't stop yourself from glaring at his back as he passed the kitchen table.

More time passed, your only half-drunk mug of coffee had long gone cold and your grief for the little Bear you knew that was left all alone somewhere in the woods had managed to ebb somewhat. You were just about to get up to go get a start on some chores when all of a sudden, Wamuu came through the door.

"Shoo! Shoo!" The massive Pillarman swiped his hand as he backed himself through the door, "Go on! Go back to your Home, small one."

You tilted your head, watching the unusual display. "What's wrong?"

The blonde turned his head to look at you with a frown. "I was trying to finish up my morning task when a Bear came out of the woods." He explained, finally closing the door with a sigh. Your gasp went unnoticed as he peered through the window of the door, his frown only etching deeper. "It's too small to be a juvenile. Just a Cub. I did not want to find out if there was a Mother lingering so I came back to the House. However, it seems to have decided to follow me..."

The Warrior blinked as you were suddenly out of your seat, squeezing past him to squish against the window of the door to see for yourself.

"Peanut!" You cried, your heart fluttering in your chest as you too caught sight of the little round ink blot sitting dejectedly on the porch.

Wamuu barely had a chance to react let alone intervene as you yanked open the door again, the sounds of the crying Bear hitting your ears.

It was Peanut alright, every feature similar right down to the whiskers of his muzzle. The Bear was plopped down on his rear, feet sticking out under him like he were a simple Teddy Bear sitting on the shelf of a toy store, and staring up at the door he knew you were behind. The squeaky wailing of the Cub fell silent as soon as he caught sight of you and realized he was no longer all alone, it seemed that he missed you just as much as you had him.

Wamuu stared in disbelief, watching with wide eyes as the little Bear rolled onto his back to reveal his soft tummy and stubby paws to you.

"Peanut?" The blonde questioned, one thick eyebrow raising as he looked between you both.

This was a wild Animal and yet you greeted it like some sort of pet!

As your leaned down to give a loving rub to the exposed tummy of the Bear, cooing at it as contentment spread across its features. You intended to recount this mornings full story to ease Wamuu's obvious confusion, however, you didn't so much as get the chance to get a word out before Kars was standing in the room.

He had just been about to head upstairs and absorb himself in his work, when he caught a snippet of what was happening in the kitchen. The Pillarman's crimson eyes wide as he approached, needing to see what was happening for himself.

"Look Kars!" You beamed, grinning up at both gawking Pillarmen as the Bear grasped at your petting hand, playfully trying to gum on your fingers with blunt little teeth. "Peanut came back!"

Kars all but shared in your glee, the pinching of his brows and the drooping of his lips gave away his irritation.

He had dropped Peanut off safely somewhere in the woods, not far from your usual walking path. When he had left, the Cub had still been sound asleep, completely none the wiser to being left behind, and the Pillarman had honestly thought that would be that.

It would seem the creature had imprinted on you more than he anticipated and it only added on to his previous fears.

"I'm afraid I'm in need of an explanation, my Lord..." Wamuu spoke up, tearing his gaze away from you and the Bear Cub you were most happily playing with.

Kars swooped in, taking the Cub away from you for the 2nd time that morning, much like an Eagle dropping from the sky to snatch up a mouse. Peanut pawed at his hardened chest, becoming squirmy in the massive mans hold as he let out a couple of little grunts.

It was as if the Bear knew exactly what Kars intended to do.

"I'll explain it to you in full when I return, Wamuu." He sighed as he begun carrying the squirming woodland creature away from the House towards the woods where he deemed it rightfully belonged.

You waved at the baby Bear as it watched you from over one muscled shoulder with those big honeyed eyes, feeling a little disheartened again but the fact that the Cub came looking for you still made a sweet warmth bloom in your chest.

It would be far from the last time any of you saw Peanut.

Late morning turned to afternoon and the day bloomed into something warm and lovely, like a watered down Summer day. Linens and towels came straight from the washing machine and were headed for the clothesline to dry in the sweet air.

There was absolutely nothing better than falling asleep in bedsheets that had spent all day out on a line in the breeze.

Always happy to help you around the household, Esidisi volunteered to put them out for you as you were already busy doing other things around the house.

He had only turned his back for 2 seconds to hang the first sheet, humming softly to himself as he went, before turning to find a baby Bear making himself at Home in the laundry basket he had carried out. Peanut was rubbing his scent all over the damp linens as he rolled in and pawed at the clean sheets; inevitably dirtying them again.

Esidisi found the whole ordeal hilarious, most especially when he was fed the full story of the morning by you who had come out to see what was taking him so long with his chore.

Kars, on the other hand, didn't find it so very funny.

He especially didn't see the humor in it when he found the two of you playing with Peanut in the yard, entertaining yourselves and the Cub by draping a sheet over him and prying it off like a parachute over and over.

Peanut was taken back to the forest a 3rd time; this time much farther into the woods.

Late afternoon rolled around and Santana finally left the house to go outside; having the sole intention of taking a nap in the fresh air via the hammock that had been recently strung up in the backyard.

Unfortunately, the youngest Pillarman got sidetracked when a little Bear came out of the woodwork and crawled into the hammock with him, mewling and demanding his immediate attention as he was hungry once again.

Kars, the one and only, spirited Peanut away before you and Santana had a chance to make more sandwiches to feed it.

This happened over and over and over again.

It seemed like every time the Pillarman dumped Peanut somewhere, no matter how remote or how far from your Home, the little Bear inevitably found its way back sooner or later; ambling up to you or the others with a mighty hunger and a carefree nature unmatched.

Peanut appeared on the doorstep next morning when you were about to head out for a walk.

Peanut was found digging in the trash bin when Kars was taking out the trash.

Peanut clung to Wamuu's leg as he went out to mow the lawn; the Warrior didn't so much as bat an eye, unhindered, as the Cub held onto his ankle while he worked the mower.

Peanut approached Santana when he was eating chips on the porch; the Pillarmen didn't seem to mind the company nor the fact the Bear ended up upside down in the bag.

Peanut followed you around like you were its one true Mother while you tended the yard and carried out chores.

Peanut sat contently at Esidisi's feet as the man was Barbecuing supper in the evening; the Bear watching him and waiting for supper to be served as if he were the guest of Honor.

Each time, without fail, Kars brought him back to the woods and each time, without fail, Peanut came back.

It was only frustrating him further and further.

Eventually, one quiet and rainy morning Kars went out onto the porch to sit and read; he always enjoyed the sound of rainfall and the fresh earthen smell of a Spring downpour. He had barely been there 5 minutes, not even enough time to get truly immersed in his novel, when suddenly a very wet and cold ball of hair climbed up into his lap, actually making the Pillarman yelp at the shock of the sensation of a freezing cold Cub pressing against his bare skin.

Kars was big and dry and comfortable, like a much bigger and hairless Bear, a place Peanut deemed perfect enough to sit out of the Rain and warm up.

The purple-haired man frowned down at the chubby bundle taking up residence in his lap, Peanut grunted contently as he made himself comfortable. His normally downy soft and dandelion puffed fur was now patterned down and awry, radiating with a dank with a heady, musky Bear smell due to being soaking wet.

It was not at all a pleasant smell to anyone's nose, most especially to a Pillarman's as they were creatures with extra sensitive senses.

Kars, now feeling that this was the final straw, was just about to scoop the creature up into his arms and carry out their usual pick up and drop off routine; this time he intended to take Peanut all the way down river to the farthest side of the forest and leave him there.

He stopped on a dime when two big pools of honey locked onto glimmering rubies.

"Don't look at me like that..." the Pillarman warned, feeling his heart quiver strangely in his chest. The command didn't come out nearly as firm as he intended it to be.

Kars treasured creatures big and small and this creature was so adorable, so small it made his arms itch in ways he hadn't felt since the time he had taken care of the two infants that grew to be Wamuu and Santana. Peanut rolled in his lap, squishing his face against the Pillarman's abs and nuzzling softly; his fur stuck to bare skin in an almost icky way and made his loincloth feel very damp and uncomfortable due to the run off of water.

The Pillarman pursed his lips, forcing himself to bring to mind all the logical points on why this Bear (this nuisance, this danger, this predator) had to go.

Peanut opened his mouth and let out a little yawn and a sneeze, probably just as hungry as he was cold and damp.

Kars' huge hands balled into fists at his sides, his jaw setting tighter and tighter as he felt himself and the walls of his determination crumbling, hating every single millisecond of it before eventually, after an internal struggle that lasted seemingly millennium... he sighed.

Peanut was scooped into his arms and, this time, taken into the House.

☆☆☆

"Really?!" You cried in disbelief, hands going to your mouth as it pulled into an impossibly huge grin.

Esidisi, Wamuu and Santana just sat there, expressions ranging from shock to disbelief of their own.

Surely he couldn't be serious... could he?

Kars let out a long breath, "Yes, dearest." He groaned, still cradling the tiny dampened Bear in the crook of his arm as it clung to his bicep. "We can keep Peanut."

Immediately, to everyone’s amusement but Kars', you were in his lap just as quickly as the Cub had climbed into it. You didn't care one bit that he was a little damp and that some of Peanuts musky stink had rubbed off on him, peppering his face with thousands of kisses as you threw your arms around both the Pillarman and the Cub.

"Oh Kars! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You squealed between your line of kisses.

Nobody had expected Kars to cave in this matter; they honestly expected this to go on and on for some time until Peanut was forced to be the one to give up on finding his way back to the house.

However, despite the fact all of them were pleased and ready to take on this idea of having an actual living Bear around, there came the next matters to attend to.

The ground rules.

"But he cannot stay inside the house." Kars said, that firm nature of his making its return. Peanut had managed to wriggle out of both of your holds and was now ambling around the Livingroom, sniffing everything and everyone in sight. Esidisi was following him around to ensure he wouldn't break anything or get himself into more trouble while Kars was feeling so generous, smiling indulgently as he scooped him up and presented him to the others.

"Ok." You hummed, that part was only to be expected.

But you wouldn't deny that somewhere in the back of your mind you had fantasized about cuddling up to a giant fuzzy Peanut in bed or on the couch.

Kars took in another deep breath and the atmosphere changed, it was as if the temperature dropped in the room. The mans eyes were serious and his features became even more stonelike than the masks he crafted as he pulled you closer to him in his lap.

"I want you to listen to me, dear one." He began, his voice was low and something akin to fridged; it only sent shivers dancing down your spine. "If Peanut grows to be an aggressive creature or too much a hassle to handle, even if he gives any of us the slightest reason to fear he would harm you in any way, shape or form... we'll have to be rid of him. Permanently."

His words hung in the air, making your stomach sink like a rock falling helplessly to the depths of the ocean. A lump was starting to balloon in your throat.

You knew very well what that meant.

The Pillarmen weren't men who took any form of pleasure out of killing Animals; Kars especially... but you knew that he would not hesitate to do so for your sake. His words spoken to you prior on the porch when you first encountered the Cub rang around quite deafeningly in your head.

"Do I make myself clear?" He asked you, his pupils burned absolute holes into your heart as he held your gaze; not unlike a strict parent after giving the scolding of a lifetime.

The best you could do was nod, praying the day you all feared would never come at all or at least not very soon; the latter was perhaps your best hope.

For now, however, you planned on celebrating the day by making a peanut butter sandwich for the newest, and perhaps hungriest, member of your little Family.

☆☆☆

Time passed, as it did for everything, and Peanut grew and grew. He grew from a small and clumsy little Bear Cub into a bigger and gangly Juvenile Bear by mid Summer.

Sometimes the Bear would disappear at night into the woods, just after supper of course, but there were also times he would just sleep close to the house; most specifically by the front porch. Peanut still followed you around outside as you did anything, always greeting you with a grunt as he flopped onto his back to reveal his belly and were always more than happy to rub it when he did.

His appetite did indeed grow and the simple peanut butter namesake was no longer truly fulfilling to him; nothing more than a sweet morsel to lick up as a treat.

Peanut had to be shown how to properly hunt for himself and that was something you and Esidisi decided to tackle together, taking him down to the river on the hottest days to teach him to to fish for himself. Those days were filled with much laughter on your part where you sat on the bank to watch the Pillarmen wading out in the raging waters with the Bear, hunched forward and making a grab for a slippery and wet flying fish with his hands as they jumped from the water to properly demonstrate.

Eventually, after much trial and error (not to mention Esidisi falling right into the river a handful of times) Peanut was able to catch all the fish he wanted to eat.

Wamuu was a big help in burning off the major energy that came with Peanut growing into an adult Bear. The Warrior often spent hours out in the yard playing with him, going so far as to push and wrestle with the creature, playing simple games like throwing a giant ball around or to even take him on a run through the woods to tire him out.

Sometimes you even tailed behind the pair on your 4 wheeler to get in on the fun and play.

Santana found himself spending his days playing with Peanut too, more often content to help you take care of the beast. You and Santana tried to bath Peanut at least once every 2 weeks to fight against his stinky Bear musk, lathering him up nicely where he sat contently in an old kiddie pool in the yard and hosing him off. Santana would spend a lot of time with Peanut as the Bear napped, scratching his back and finger combing the knots out of his fur; even plucking annoying ticks from the Bears body when he found them.

You found it quite disturbing, and more than a little gross, as to how Santana could hold the bloated insects between his fingers and pop them upon finding them. You swore you could hear the red-head chuckle lowly each time you let out a disgusted gag when he done it.

And Kars, he found himself dotting over and spoiling Peanut with affection just as much as you did.

The Pillarman would deny any claims that he snuck the Bear peanut butter sandwiches between meals or even peanut butter straight from the jar but you knew the truth. It was hard to miss as it seemed Peanut would immediately give Kars a good sniffing upon seeing him, obviously checking for any delicious treats he happened to be keeping concealed.

By late Fall, Peanut was a fully grown Adult Bear.

In fact, he had swollen to such an immense size, he was something of a rival to the Pillarmen; by that time it was something of a relief he was a gentle giant. He was still a wild Animal but he was also a loving pet to you and the 4 Pillarmen.

One day, Peanut stumbled out into the woods and didn't return. Snow came not long after and then the brutal and fridged season of Winter truly begun.

Peanut had disappeared but you knew he wasn't far in the woods, hopefully holed up in a cave and hibernating.

Winter passed slowly, more slowly than it ever had before. As December ticked away to January and eventually February, the others didn't miss how much you missed your Peanut; he was all you could talk about somedays! You weren't the only one who missed him however, not missing the wistful looks passing over the faces of the others upon seeing a segment on Black Bears airing on National Geographic or opening the fridge to find the jar of peanut butter sitting there; untouched and almost begging to be eaten.

March went bye, then April and the snow had long melted away due to the heavy rainfall but still, Peanut did not make his return.

You were seriously starting to worry by this time. What if he hadn't been hibernating all along? What if a Hunter had gotten to him? Or what if... he forgot about you?

The Pillarmen could only console you so much, trying their best not to give you false hope by saying things along the lines of "I'm sure he'll be around!" and make things worse as they really did not know of Peanut's fate either...

It was well over a year since you had first taken in the Cub and now there was no sign of him anywhere.

But just when you were starting to give up all hope of seeing your prized Bear and companion again, you opened the door one morning as you prepared to go on your morning walk to be met with shock.

You just about jumped out of your skin as an earth rattling roar hit your eardrums, sending a jolt of fear striking through your body like lightning and screaming in primal terror at the sight before you. A Black Bear that was larger than life stood on its haunches off the porch, its maw open and its breath showing like hot puffs of steam as it growled out into the cold Spring air; asserting its presence for miles.

For one terrible and too long of a moment, you thought you would be slaughtered on your own doorstep by your most favorite Animal on Earth.

Your terror was short-lived however, as the monstrous beast you feared would devour you whole suddenly flopped onto its back and turned its belly to the sky.

"PEANUT!" You cried, spreading your arms wide as you ran to flop on top of the creature; your friend and pet.

It wasn't long after when all 4 Pillarmen were standing out on the porch, your screech having been heard from inside the house.

"Look Kars!" You beamed, rubbing the gargantuan tummy with a wide grin; eliciting a content grunt from the Bear. "Peanut came back!

Kars could only smile this time and shake his head.

Peanut had come back again, without fail; just as he always done and the Pillarmen were quite happy he was here to stay...

[spxllcxstxr]

Twist and Shout • The Marauders

(Not my gif)

Request: Hey 👋 can I have a blurb about poly marauders x reader how they are at the room of requirements just chilling and then they find a little stereo or something and then they all just take turns dancing with the reader 💕💕 it would be so cute just them enjoying their time together and dancing forgetting about everyone —anon

Summary: Just dancing with the boys in the RoR while it’s raining outside

Warnings: I don’t know, the Beatles? Writing about dancing is hard I’ve noticed

Word Count: ~1k

A.N: Yes, it’s Twist and Shout - The Beatles. I couldn’t resist. Could be read as platonic or poly in my opinion, depending on how affectionate your group of friends are? Never done a song fic before so? Keep that in mind

Title: The Beatles - Twist and Shout

****

If you were anywhere else in the castle, you would be subjected to the sounds of the harsh pounding of the relentless thunderstorm that decided to plague the grounds.

It was a shame, really, considering the best place to hang out after one of McGonagall’s infamous complex exams was the Black Lake. You could spend hours there, skipping rocks, dunking Sirius’ head underwater, basking in the afternoon sun.

But it’s raining. So instead, you find yourself in the elusive Room of Requirement.

The room had contorted itself into a space similar to the Gryffindor common room, fit with a few black leather couches and shelves lined with mysterious artifacts collected and lost over the many years.

The four of you were spread out, rummaging through drawers and cupboards filled to the brim with scrolls, pictures, and other oddities.

The shelves tower over you, reaching past the extent of your vision. Must be why you can no longer hear the rain.

“Oi! Love! Heads up!” You hear Sirius call out.

You whip around quickly, dropping the intricate locket you were fiddling with back on the counter.

A worn burgundy Quaffle bounces off your shoulder, and you fumble to catch it between your hands. The padding cracks and flakes off under the tips of your fingers.

“Rem!” You fling the ball at him.

Remus jumps, tossing a purple vial up in the air before scrambling to clutch the ball close to his chest. The vial falls back down and lands safely in his arms.

He lets out a sigh of relief, a lopsided grin appearing.

“Maybe you should’ve tried out for the team, Moons.” Sirius huffs out an impressed laugh.

You slowly clap. “Bloody good catch.”

His cheeks tint pink as he places the vial back on the shelf. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

You snort, rolling eyes at the fact that this is probably the only time you’ve seen him successfully catch anything at all.

Remus tosses the Quaffle at Mr. Quidditch Captain himself, shouting out his name as it spirals towards him midair.

However, you notice that James isn’t paying attention at all to the ball hurtling towards him. He’s too wrapped up in whatever device he has in front of him.

In a blink of an eye the Quaffle smashes into the left side of James’s face.

“Blimey! What the fuck was that?”

James brings his hand to his face, covering the bright red mark the ball made.

The three of you sprint over to him, worried.

“Aw, Jamsie...”

“Damn Moony, didn’t know you had such a strong arm.” James jests, wincing as Remus glides his fingers over the red splotch.

“Godric, James, I’m so sorry.” Remus guiltily frowns.

“Y’know, a kiss would make it all better.” James trails off, smirking.

Sirius, who’s dragging his fingers through James’ dark curls, pauses his movements.

“Well, since you asked nicely...” He trails off.

The three of you press your lips to James’ cheek, the aggravated red fading.

“There, all better.” You tease, smiling against his skin. Lightly, you pat his cheek.

“So what’d you get distracted by?” Remus asks, his eyes scanning the countertop.

James’ hazel eyes light up in delight. “This old gramophone has some weird markings carved into it. Seems magical though.”

You glance around his shoulder, and sure enough, the brass sound horn was littered with various runes you’ve never seen before.

“Well Moons, you’re the one taking Ancient Runes.” Sirius points out, running his fingers over the carvings.

“I haven’t seen these in the textbook before, so maybe we shouldn’t screw around with it.” His honey brown eyes grow wary, flicking between the gramophone and the three of you.

“Maybe we should, my dear Remus.” James pushes his glasses further up his nose, raising a dark eyebrow at him.

“There’s not even a record around, James.” You mention, glancing around.

“When has that ever stopped us, dear?”

James’ index finger drops to the sound box, pressing a button that makes a sharp click.

Remarkably, the sound of guitars fill the space, louder than anything a normal gramophone should be able to emit. So that’s what the runes were for.

“The Beatles? We get enough of that in our dorm.” Sirius groans, wincing at the beginning of “Twist and Shout”.

“Shove off, Pads, you love ‘em.” James laughs, bobbing his head to the beat.

He takes your hands as the drums ramp up.

Well, shake it up, baby, now

Twist and shout

Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now

Come on and work it on out

Well, work it on out, honey

Your boisterous laugh rips through the music as James spins you. In the corner of your eye you watch Sirius and Remus tap to the beat, their limbs loosening up.

You know you look so good

You know you got me goin' now

Just like I knew you would

Your arms swing, hands still connected. Hair flies in front of your vision.

Well, shake it up, baby, now

Twist and shout

Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now

Come on and work it on out

Your hands disconnect and you crash into Sirius, his dark hair tied back, and his Gryffindor tie hanging in two strands loosely over his shoulders.

His teeth tease his bottom lip.

The heels of your shoes allow you to slide against the floor, resulting in your body twisting to the song.

“I’m not drunk enough for this!” Sirius barks out laughing. Strands of dark curls fly from his bun.

You know you twist, little girl

You know you twist so fine

Come on and twist a little closer now

And let me know that you're mine, woo

Remus struts towards you, sandy hair crazily bouncing around him. His white sleeves are rolled up, revealing scarred arms.

They loop around your neck, hips swiveling.

Baby, now

Twist and shout

Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now

Come on and work it on out

Sirius’ back presses against yours, wriggling in something you can only assume is able to be described as dance.

James joins you, top buttons popped, hands raking through his own hair.

You know you twist, little girl

You know you twist so fine

Come on and twist a little closer now

And let me know that you're mine

You pant, cool sweat appearing on the back of your neck.

Your own hands run through Remus’ hair and make their way slowly down his neck.

Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now

Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now

Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now

The invisible record scratches abruptly, the music disappearing.

The room is plunged into almost complete silence, only the sounds of panting and wisps of faint laughter carry throughout the space.

“Guess it’s one per person.” You wheeze, loosening your tie.

“My turn.” Remus remarks, already making his way to the gramophone to see what song it magically plays for him.

[siren-dragon]

Cultural Studies -- The Cat Returns fanfic

Hello again, guess who wrote another one-shot! Anyway, this prompt came to me (along with several others, lol) so I decided to write something for it. Also, big thanks to everyone who enjoyed my first story. Also, Haru’s outfit is based on the yukata from the Love Nikki game and I may draw something for this story at a later date. Anyway, please enjoy!

AO3 story link    Tagging: @mysticsoulgirl

Prompt: Summer Fireworks Festival

=======================================================

Though the Sanctuary, and by extension the Cat Bureau itself, experienced many a visitor wishing for assistance with one thing or another- it wasn’t exactly a stationary place. True, anyone could follow Muta from the Crossroads and through the twists and turns of Japan’s alleys to locate the entryway arch, but that wasn’t truly the Bureau’s physical location. Anyone who was in need could find the Sanctuary entrance, all they had to do was merely look for it. So, while Baron was not unaccustomed to a variety of clients (even if the quantity seemed to have diminish over the years), it was always a study in new cultures when a guest appeared. Even when the cat figurine made a point to be open and courteous to a visitor, there were often a few things he gained new knowledge of.

“A fireworks festival? I’m afraid I’ve not heard of such a thing before.” He spoke, handing Haru a now size-appropriate cup thanks to the Bureau’s magic.

The dark brunette offered a small word of thanks and a bright smile before continuing. ���Really? Oh, they’re great fun. Originally it was started as a festival for the dead; to mourn the lost one while celebrating life. But nowadays it’s just a fun activity to watch while eating festival food with friends.”

“Did I hear someone mention food?” Muta spoke, closing the front door behind him. “Hey Chicky, you bring any snacks with you today?”

From the upstairs balcony came a snort of displeasure. “You ever think of anything aside from your stomach,” Toto drawled, rolling his eyes at the cat’s one-track mind.

“What was that birdbrain?!”

“Oh, come on, think of a new insult piggy-cat!”

Before the fight could escalate anymore Haru, now a more convenient size for Baron’s home, rose from her seat on the sofa and lifted a bag where the scent of sugar and fresh fruit wafted throughout the room. “If you two are going to fight, then Baron and I will eat this by ourselves- including the mulberries I got special for you Toto.”

Both cat and crow immediately silenced themselves before tossing a glare at the other, “You got lucky, big chicken.”

“Sure thing, marshmallow.”

Baron sighed, taking out the necessary cutlery before Muta decided to forego the use of utensils. “Muta, have you experienced such festivals in the Human Realm?”

“What festivals?”

“The fireworks festival coming up this weekend,” Haru clarified as she handed Toto the collection of mulberries she brought.

It was here that the ex-con feline grinned, “oh yeah. Gotta love summer festivals in Japan with all their fried food and sweets. Best time to be a cat.”

Toto snickered, “why am I not surprised; you only think from your stomach.”

“Shut up!”

“There’s also games where you can win prizes and some shops as well. And at the end there is large fireworks show everyone watches to celebrate the summer season.” It was here that Haru’s excited smile seemed to dim slightly, “I was going to go with Hiromi, but she has a family reunion to attend. And my Mom will be out of town during that weekend- so I’ll just be watching it from my house.”

As a figurine being made out of wood, anything associated with fire was typically something Baron tried to actively avoid. And while he would deny it fervently later onto a rather smug looking Muta and Toto, the slightly disheartened expression on Haru’s face sent a rather unpleasant sensation through his chest sent nearly all thoughts of self-preservation out the window. It reminded him of their previous adventure in the Cat Kingdom; with her clad in a fine, pale-yellow gown and wearing a look of absolute despair despite it having been her so called “wedding day”. And so, it was not 2 seconds later that he found the words tumbling from his lips without any kind of second thought.

“Perhaps we can accompany you to this festival instead, Haru.”

That certainly caused the brunette to stare at him in surprise, yet a spark of joy danced within her caramel eyes. “Really? You guys would want to go with me?”

“Hey, if there’s food then you can count me in.” Muta shrugged, finishing his slice of chiffon cake.

Toto nodded, “I’m sure it’d be a great experience; what with the lack of clients to the Bureau.”

Haru beamed brightly with sheer delight, “Thank you everyone, I’m sure you all will love it!”

When Haru had finally left for the day, a definite spring in her step, Muta couldn’t help but turn a sly grin to his fellow feline. “Well, that was rather generous of you to volunteer us for something you didn’t even know about till 30 minutes ago.”

“I’m not sure what you are inquiring Muta. It was quite clear that Miss Haru was looking forward to this festival and it would be unbecoming of a gentleman to allow her to merely remain home alone and miss the event entirely.”

Toto nodded, “I have to say, I agree with Baron on this one. But I don’t think it was that difficult to persuade you after that melancholic expression crossed her face.”

Baron gave a displeased frown to his colleague’s rambunctious laughter, which did nothing to hide the slight tint of pink beneath his cream-colored fur. Honestly, since when was chivalrous behavior become a source of mockery? And yet… the sight of Haru’s joyful smile was more than worth it.

“So, are you going to wear a yukata?”

“A what?”

That answer only made the hefty white cat laugh louder.

 ======================================================

“Muta… are you quite sure that this garment is placed on correctly.”

“If the picture is anything to go by, then yeah. Besides; you can’t wear a suit with tails to a summer festival- you’ll stick out too much.” The large cat answered, glancing down at the newspaper advertisement in his hands before looking back to his much shorter friend. “Hmm, I think that’s right.”

“You idiot, tie for the sash is supposed to be in the back.” Toto commented, taking the advertisement with his beak to compare the image to Baron’s new attire. “See, there isn’t a giant bow in the front.”

“Okay first, it’s called an obi and second, stop butting in birdbrain!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you knew what you were doing, fluff-ball!”

Baron was going to attempt to silence their bickering before the sash about his waist loosened slightly causing the robe to flutter open and expose part of his chest and collarbone before the ginger feline took hold of the garment’s sides and quickly held them closed. He briefly wondered if it would perhaps be better to merely wear his typical suit before a knock sounded on the door- halting Muta and Toto’s argument. The crow quickly flew toward the door and swiftly opened the door to reveal Haru. She too was clad in a traditional yukata of navy blue with ivory and cream-colored stars swirling around a crescent moon at the hem of the dress before continuing upward. The sash wrapped around her waist took on a pale blue color while the right sleeve of her dress shifted colors; with the stars now dark and the fabric white shade. Though her hair was cut short, it was still pinned back by a blue, yellow, and orange silk flower with the latter two colors matching the shade of his own fur. To be perfectly honest, she looked quite breath-taking.

“Baron are you wearing a yukata?” She grinned, noticing his change of attire immediately which only made the statuette cling to the folds of the loosened robe all the more tightly. “I didn’t even know you had one!”

“Well, Muta saw fit to inform me this is the traditional attire for a summer festival so it is a recent addition to my wardrobe. However, I seem to be having a bit of trouble actually dressing.” He answered, unable to prevent the sigh from leaving his lips at his current dishevelment.

Haru giggled, placing her small bag on the sofa before approaching him. “Don’t worry, it’s always challenging for a first-timer. Here, you just need a little bit of adjusting…”

Despite his attempt to remain calm at the innocent offer, Baron couldn’t help the heat rushing to his face as Haru approached and began shifting the obi about his waist he had attempted to tie on earlier. He still kept his hand clenched about the folds of the yukata as Haru expertly straightened the robe, to which he gave her a very grateful smile. Soon he was now properly clothed, even wearing the haori properly before Haru stepped back to admire her handy work (though Baron felt a slight twinge of disappointment at her shift away from him). “There we go, a perfect fit.”

“Thank you, Haru. And may I say, you look lovely as well.”

She beamed at his reply as she moved to retrieve her bag. “Thanks Baron. But if you wanted to wear a yukata, I could have helped you find one.”

Muta shook his head, “that would have ruined the surprise Chicky. Plus, nothing was more amusing than watching Baron try to put it on.”

“As always, your assistance is greatly appreciated Muta.” Baron replied dryly, remembering the past hour where both his friends tried to guide him in how to wear the clothes.

As they walked through the archway of the Sanctuary, Muta walked ahead of them now on all fours while Toto took to the skies. However, as soon as Baron exited alongside Haru, he grew till he was once more a head taller than the dark-haired young woman instead of a foot-tall figurine. But the fact that his feline appearance remained gave Haru pause- knowing most would not really take the appearance of a half-cat man kindly (even if people believed it to be a ridiculously realistic mask). But it seemed her thoughts were rather evident on her face, because Baron was quick to assuage her fears. “Do not worry Haru, there is a spell in place masking my real appearance. You are the only one who can see the truth.”

“I didn’t know you can use such spells, Baron.” She asked curiously.

He nodded, offering his arm to her which she gladly accepted. “Yes, though I am afraid they are only temporary. But I thought this would make our evening engagement far more enjoyable without any disturbances from bewildered onlookers.”

“It’s no trouble at all, actually I think it’s a good idea. It does make me curious as to how your disguise looks.”

Baron paused and gestured to the glass window of a shop they were walking past, “see for yourself.”

Turning to the window, Haru looked at Baron’s reflection nearly jumped in alarm upon not seeing the familiar feline characteristics she had come to cherish. Instead, the face of a young man who looked a few years older than herself gazed back at her from the reflection. His hair was a light tawny blonde the same shade as Baron’s fur, perfectly coiffed to suit the Creation’s usual debonair attire. Where once fur and whiskers existed was now fair skin and a rather amused smile taking in her slightly bewildered expression. Yet despite the disguise, Haru took comfort in the fact that Baron’s eyes were still the same shade of mint-green.

“That is rather impressive, if a bit shocking at first.” She laughed a little nervously.

Baron frowned, “does it bother you too much?”

“No, it’s not that,” she answered with a shake of her head before beaming up at him. “I just prefer you the way you are, that’s all.”

It was the second time in the past few days that Baron found his words failing him once again at her kind, yet honest words.

 ======================================================

Perhaps the first thing that caught Baron’s attention were the vibrant banners illuminated by dozens of lights and lanterns. The street was lined with colorful booths, each hosting a different attraction as friends and families traveled back and forth to every single one. It was a rather jarring change from the peace and quiet of the Cat Bureau, but as he glanced down at the excited grin on Haru’s face as she enthusiastically explained each booth’s function, Baron couldn’t help the pleased smile drifting across his face. “So then, what would you recommend we do first?”

“Food, I’m starving!” Muta cried from about their legs before he bolted down the street, causing several people to laugh at the rather large cat obviously following the scent of frying food. “Takoyaki, here I come!”

Haru laughed, “well, food always is a good choice. Though we’d best pace ourselves, festival food is great, but not exactly healthy.”

“Then I shall follow your lead, Haru.” Baron added, glancing around briefly with a bit of confusion drifting across his face, “I must admit, I thought a fireworks festival would have more of that particular attraction.”

“That happens at the end of the night, mainly because it’ll be darker and it’ll give us a chance to see most of the booths before we have to find seats to watch the fireworks. But we’d best find Muta before he manages to pilfer too many snacks.”

Baron chuckled, “I think it’s more of his charming attitude that wins him such favors.”

Haru couldn’t help but laugh at that, and judging from the faint cawing above their heads, Toto heard it as well. “Well, we’d best hurry before that charm gets a bit carried away.”

The couple soon found their way further into the festival and managed to find Muta, who looked rather smug at having charmed a piece of taiyaki from a group of teenage girls. True to her word, Haru managed to procure a few treats for them all to try, ranging from takoyaki to kakigori to some onigiri before they walked to where Toto waited upon a nearby but isolated tree. Muta had nearly claimed all of the takoyaki while Toto took a liking to the plain onigiri and the roasted chestnuts Baron was eating. Though Baron was not overly found of the deep-fried food, he couldn’t deny that the kakigori Haru offered was quite delicious.

As the sun soon sank below the horizon and the sky turned dark with the coming night, many people started moving away from the bright lights of the festival stalls to await the oncoming fireworks display. “We don’t really want to be too close to all the larger crowds, so we’ll stay on the outskirts instead.” Haru informed them, taking a seat beside the grass. “And I wanted to thank you guys again, for coming with me.”

“Nonsense Haru, this was most enjoyable and we were happy to accompany you.”

“Even though you had to forgo your suit?” She replied with a teasing grin.

Baron gave a slightly sheepish look, “I will admit that dressing did pose quite the challenge, but well worth the effort.”

“Even still, thank you for being such a good sport about it. And I’m glad you had a good time.” Haru chimed happily, turning to look at the ever-growing groups awaiting the final event of the festival. “Hopefully we’ll be able to see everything with so many people…”

“Well, we merely need a seat with a view; and I believe I may have a solution.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The ginger gentle-cat only offered her a hand with a secret smile, “Just trust me.”

At the familiar words, Haru rested her hand upon his and watched as the world around them seemed to stretch upward as her height plummeted to its usual size whenever she visited the Bureau. Toto then landed beside them, offering a place upon his back with Baron holding on tightly the Stone Creations black feathers and Haru wrapping her arms about his waist. Once they were situated on the now gigantic crow, Toto rose high into the air (though not before snatching Muta in his claws much to the large cat’s displeasure while muttering something that sounded like “always a showoff.”) before gliding through the evening sky.

They were only flying for a few minutes before a high-pitched whistle sounded only to be followed by a large explosion of white and gold lights as the fireworks show began. Haru watched in silent amazement as they soared the atmosphere as each of the colorful illuminations danced around them like falling stars. She a joyful laugh at sheer sight of the fireworks show from a literal bird’s eye perspective, “alright, now this is a view.”

“I must agree,” Baron added, though it was hard to hear over the sound of the fireworks.

Moving her head forward, Haru placed a gentle kiss upon Baron’s fur-covered cheek before leaning to rest her cheek against his back. “Just for the record, this is the best fireworks festival I’ve ever been to.”

And for the third time in Haru’s presence, Baron found himself at a loss for words as a pleasing warmth started to overcome his face. Yet as he turned to watch the brilliant lights display with the young woman beside him, he had to admit that it certainly was an enjoyable evening.

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Epilogue 3: A Love So Tender

A/N:  Well, here it is, folks...the last epilogue of The President Wears Prada series.  It’s been a blast.  Like with Alone, Together and The Storm Before the Calm, we’ve created a little community on this blog, except this time we joined together during quarantine and a global pandemic!  I posted the prologue to this April 27th (so right in the thick of it lol) and I’ve been so happy giving you guys something to look forward to every Monday these past eight months!  Keep asking your Willberdeen canon questions forever and ever!

Be on the lookout for the post date of my Brock Boeser mini-series “Peaceful Easy Feeling” -- I’ll announce it and put it on my Masterlist.  Then, I’ll start my next big series!

As always, happy reading :)

March 2034

“Mooooommmmmyyyyyy!  Mommy look!” six-year-old Saoirse Nylander ran through the house to the kitchen where she knew her mom was ready with breakfast.  “Look!  Daddy let me do my own hair!”

Aberdeen looked down at her daughter to see her blonde hair fixed in to a half ponytail…well, a six-year-old’s version of a half ponytail.  Aberdeen smiled down at her daughter.  “Looks good!” she smiled.  “Can I fix it a little bit before we go to Andy and Maia’s house?”

“Can I eat first?” Saoirse asked as Aberdeen heard more footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Of course!  Your oatmeal is right over there,” she nodded her head towards the bowl already set up for her daughter.  As Saoirse moved and climbed into the counter stool to eat, Aberdeen looked to her left to see William enter the room, holding their three-year-old son in his arms.  “My two Williams,” she smiled.

“Mowning mama,” William Jr. said as Willy placed him down in his own stool, his own bowl of oatmeal also ready to go.  

William walked around the island and gave Aberdeen a kiss on the cheek before placing his hand on her stomach tenderly.  “Morning, minskatt,” he said before pouring himself some coffee.  He looked back at his kids, eating their oatmeal.  “Are you excited to see Maia, Saoirse?”

“Mhm,” she smiled.  “Can I bring my colouring book so Maia and I can colour?”

“Of course you can!” William smiled.  “You know how much Maia loves to colour with you.”

“When you and mommy get home, I’m gonna have a beeeeeeautiful picture,” Saoirse exclaimed before spooning some more oatmeal into her mouth.

Both Aberdeen and William looked at their fridge, adorned with ripped out pages from colouring books that Saoirse and William Jr. did for them.  “We can’t wait,” Aberdeen smiled.

***

“Mr. and Mrs. Nylander, I know that we’ve confirmed your pregnancy,” Dr. Collinson spoke to the happy couple.  

“We needed the tie-breaker,” William joked.

“Indeed,” he chuckled.  “But I must ask you both…have you gone through any fertility treatments that I’m not aware of?  IVF, artificial insemination?”

William and Aberdeen looked at each other before looking back at their doctor – the same doctor who had been there and helped birth Saoirse and William Jr.  “No…” William shook his head.  “We figured we were okay…I mean, with Saoirse’s and William’s pregnancies being pretty easy with no major complications, and the fact that we didn’t have to try for very long before Aberdeen got pregnant…” he trailed off.

Dr. Collinson nodded his head.  “That’s good to know.  Because I do have some further news for you.”

“What’s that?” Aberdeen asked.

“You’re having twins.”

The words hung in the air for an excruciatingly long period of time.  “Excuse me?” Aberdeen asked.

“Twins.  You’re having twins, Mrs. Nylander.”

Aberdeen looked over at William.  “I’m going to cut your penis off.”

***

“TWINS!!!!!” Bee exclaimed, jumping up and down as she hugged Aberdeen.  “Twins, Aberdeen!  Oh my goodness!”

“More Nylanders?” Morgan piped in.  “Christ almighty.”

***

“TWINS?!” Aleida was shocked when Aberdeen told her the news over the phone.  “Twins!”

“Who’s having twins?” Aberdeen could hear Fred’s voice in the background.

“Aberdeen and Will!”

There was a pause.  “More Nylanders?  Good God.”

***

“Twins, William?  You knocked her up with twins?” Jason deadpanned into the phone.

“We’ll have four, just like you,” William said.

“More Nylanders…Jesus Christ.”

***

“Oh!  What fantastic news!” Svea beamed over the FaceTime call.  Elias was smiling beside her.  “You must be so excited, guys.”

“We are.  We joked that we were only supposed to have one tie-breaker though,” Aberdeen said, looking at William beside her briefly.  “Now we’re getting two.”

“Do you know the sexes?”

“Not yet.  In a few weeks they’ll tell us if they’re identical or fraternal, and I think that will be very informational,” William said.

“More Nylanders…” Elias shook his head.  “God help us all.”

***

“This is fantastic news, Aberdeen.  You’re such a great mom already,” Brendan said from across the table, his smile stretching from ear to ear.  “Saoirse and Will Jr – I mean they’re just delights.”

“Thank you, Brendan.  There will be two more to add to the MLSE family room during games.  Not to mention more Nylanders occupying the city of Toronto.”

“More Nylanders…wow.”

***

September 2034

The Toronto Maple Leafs and the entire MLSE organization would like to extend our heartfelt congratulations to William Nylander and his wife Aberdeen Bloom on the birth of their twins, Jonas Alexander and Astrid Elina.  Jonas and Astrid join big siblings Saoirse and William Jr.  

***

November 2035

BREAKING: Aberdeen Bloom, the youngest person ever to win the Booker Prize for Fiction, has just won the prize for a second time for her latest novel, A Love So Fond.  Bloom becomes the third woman (after Hilary Mantel and Margaret Atwood) to win the Booker Prize twice, but the first woman under forty to accomplish the feat.  

***

The First Monday in May, 2036

William looked at Aberdeen lovingly as she touched up her lipstick in the mirror of their hotel room.  She was wearing a beautiful dress, styled to perfection.  He was wearing a suit, tailored to equal perfection.  “You look beautiful, minskatt,” he said, hoping it would calm her down a bit.  He knew she was nervous.

She looked over at him as she clicked shut the lipstick tube.  “We’re going to the Met Gala, Willy,” she said as if it was the first time he’d heard the news.  He’d heard.  He’d heard for months now.  Anna Wintour invited them to the event.  Aberdeen screamed bloody murder when she got the invite.  “We’re going to the Met Gala.”

He giggled slightly.  “I know.  Who would have thought all those years ago two kids who hooked up the night of a graduation would make their way to the Met Gala.”

Aberdeen smiled.  “Who would have thought an aspiring writer and a hockey player would accomplish so much that we’d even get invited to the Met Gala.”

“I had nothing to do with this,” William shook his head, smiling.  “You did all of this.  I’m just in the background, remember?”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but smile.  The man in front of her supported her dreams without question.  There was nothing she thought of that William didn’t think she’d be able to accomplish.  Her two Booker Prizes were evidence of that.  Her Governor General’s Awards and Giller Prizes were evidence of that.  Her numerous other awards were evidence of that.  “You’re not in the background, Willy,” she told him once more.  It was something she told him time and time again, even though she knew he was joking.  To think he still used a joke he made when she was twenty-two years old…she couldn’t help but laugh.  “You’re the reason I’m able to do this.”

Their conversation was cut short by Aberdeen’s phone ringing.  When she dug it out of her purse, she saw Orla requesting a FaceTime call.  “It’s the kids again,” she said, holding up the phone and turning around so that when she answered it, whoever was calling would see both their parents.  When she accepted, she saw Saoirse’s face first.  “Hi baby,” Aberdeen cooed.  “Did you forget to tell us something?”

“Maia wants to know if she can come over this weekend to play.  Is that okay?” she asked.

“Of course,” William answered.  “I’ll talk to Uncle Morgan about it when we get home tomorrow night.”

“Let me see!” William Jr.’s voice was heard off camera.  Soon, Saoirse had turned the camera around so he could see his parents.  “Hi mom and dad.”

“Hi baby,” Aberdeen cooed again.  “Do you have a question too?”

“No,” he said.  “You look pretty, mama.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but swoon.  “Thank you, baby.  Are you having a good time at grandma and grandpa’s house?”

He nodded his head enthusiastically.  “Grandma just made popcorn!”

“Wooooo!  Movie night!” William exclaimed from behind her.  “Be good!  Go to bed on time.”

“I will,” William Junior nodded his head.  “Bye daddy.  Bye minskatt.”

Aberdeen furrowed her brows but couldn’t help but laugh at her son.  She could hear William chuckle from behind her too.  “William!  Why’d you call me that?!”

Williiam Junior didn’t know what the big deal was.  He knew he was named after his dad; it was only fitting that he test his limits and call his mom by her first name too.  “Daddy’s name is William, and my name is William, and your name is minskatt!  Daddy always calls you that!  Hi minskatt, bye minskatt, I love you minskatt.  Minskatt is your name!” he argued like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  

William thought back to so, so many years ago.  To Aberdeen asking him why he called her minskatt and him telling her why.  A tear escaped his eye and he brought his hand up quickly to cover it.  Aberdeen noticed.  She looked back at William Jr.  “Okay William.  We’ll talk more when we get home, okay?  You better be good for grandma and grandpa.”

Aberdeen ended the call with a couple of more air kisses.  When she was finished, she placed her phone down and saw that William kept wiping his cheeks with his thumb.  “Hey…hey come here,” she said gently, walking over to him because she knew he wouldn’t move.  “Was it Junior?” she asked.

William nodded his head.  “You remember what I told you, like, fifteen years ago?  About why I call you minskatt?”

Aberdeen nodded her head automatically.  She’d never forgotten.  “Of course,” she said softly, bringing her hands up to wipe some of his tears away with her own thumbs.  “It was always your dream, wasn’t it?”

William nodded.  He leaned down slightly to kiss her, even though he knew he’d get lipstick on him and that Aberdeen would have to reapply it for the fourth time before they even left the hotel.  “I know you’ve accomplished so much with your writing and I’ve accomplished so much with hockey but my best accomplishment is you.  Us.  Our family.  The love I have for you.”

Aberdeen nodded her head.  She understood.  She knew.  “Mine too.”

“It’s been fifteen years.  Fifteen years and four kids, Aberdeen.  And still.  Still.  I think about you when I’m not even thinking.”

Aberdeen smiled.  She kissed him once more.  “Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker.”

[writteninkat]

i - your grandma must have been strong

word count: 2,007

"I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you."

index

You zipped your last luggage closed, huffing tiredly as you stood up. You looked around you- your empty room, your plain, pink walls that were once decorated with many posters and pictures, your floor that was once covered by a big fluffy white rug and some clothes and stuffed toys.

You sigh, smiling. You were surely going to miss this place. Your back tingles as you turn around to see your mother leaning on the door frame, looking at you with sad eyes.

"Do you have to go?" Her voice is soft and calming- it always has been. She's the only person who could ever calm you down especially when your father left the two of you to work at the Heroes Association in Japan.

"I want to be able to protect people. Children, women, the elderly... I wanna be someone people can depend on. Someone you can depend on." You place a hand on her arm which she covers with her own, he warm palm along with her soft smile about to send you to tears.

She nods, walking inside your room to help with your baggage. "The movers just finished loading up your other stuff. All we need is your excess baggage." She pushes the luggage towards the door, you mirroring her actions.

She cups both of your cheeks, looking you at you with adoring, glassy eyes. It's your first time being separated from your mother in you sixteen years of existence. The two have always been attached to the hip, you traveled everywhere together, even as the two of you had constant arguments you could never stay mad at each other for too long.

She was the only one you had.

"Stay safe in Japan, okay? If your father gave you a hard time, call me. I'll pick you up no matter what time it is, no matter where you are. I love you." She kisses your forehead and you finally let your tears fall as you wrap your hands around her thing wrists.

"I love you so much mom." You sob, hanging your head as your mother wrapped her arms around you. You hear a voice of a woman through the speakers, telling you your flight was taking off in a few minutes.

You quickly give your mother a kiss on the cheek before letting one of your guards assist you with your bags. You waved good bye to your mom and soon after, your trusted body guard.

You were on your way to Japan, to a new life, a new school, new friends and hopefully to reach your new goal: to prove yourself worthy of becoming a hero without your father's help.

You walk towards the giant gates of UA, taking a deep breath before finally taking a step inside the campus. Your heart thumped on your chest nervously as your palms began to prespire. You kept your eyes forward, not wanting to do anything with the teens around you as your only goal was to pass the entrance exam. You walked inside the building you were lead to, taking a seat at the very back in fear of attracting any unwanted attention.

"What's up UA candidates?! Thanks for tuning into me your school DJ! Just as your application said, today you will be conducting your exams in seven different locations! Your location has been assigned to you in the paper you were given." The loud blond man with long hair swept way to the back of his head announced, making you click your tongue. Not to be a mood buster, but isn't he being a little too loud?

You take the piece of paper he was talking about, eyes lower to read the letter that's written on it. Test Location: Battle Center C.

"Excuse me sir but I have a question." Your eyes fall to a purple-headed boy with glasses whose hand is raised. The blond teacher acknowledges him and he begins talking about how there are four villains in the paper you were given and not only three.

He then begins running his mouth about how a minor mistake such as this would be an embarrassment for a school such as UA. You scoff, muttering something about having a stick up his ass.

After the teacher ended his speech, you along with the other students began piling out of the room and to your designated battle centers. As you enter your specified location, you take out the black leather gloves from your pocket, wearing them. You clenched and unclenched your hands to make sure that it fit you well.

"Hey grandma." An unfamiliar voice catches your attention, unfortunately for you the rude nickname was directed towards you.

"Grandma?" You raise a brow, unsure what he meant by it.

"You white hair reminds me of my grandma's." He snickers, pointing at the white streaks of hair you have beside either sides of your face as a few other students chuckling behind him. He looks plain, very, very boring. "Why don't you give up on this exam, grandma? Your knees may start hurting."

The signal went off and the robots began moving behind you. As you kept a straight face, your hands begin glowing a blinding white light as a black with blue and silver accent claymore appears in your hands. You run to your left, applying your speed quirk as you ran towards the gigantic robots, swinging your sword vertically.

The slash creates the same blinding white light, the robots, the buildings and concrete ground that the light touches all disintegrating into nothing. You speed into the other robots, stealing the targets of other students as you accumulated your points. Once you finish and only a few robots are left, you return to your spot to where the plain-looking boy along with his little friends were still standing at, jaws hanging eyes blown wide.

"You grandma must have been very strong."

"I got in." You say into your phone and you hear your mother squeal in delight from the other end of the line. A smile breaks into your face and you feel your phone vibrate, signaling a new notification. As you pull your phone away to see what it is, your eyes widen in surprise as you read your notification banner.

'Mom' sent you $100.

"Mom what the heck is the money for?" You chuckle. "I'm not there with you but I want you to celebrate getting into UA. So go use the money and spoil yourself."

"Mom you don't have to-"

"Okay, mom mode off. I demand you go and award yourself eith the money I sent you." Your mom's tone switches from soft and caring to cold and demanding, making you chuckle. "That doesn't suit you at all." You laugh, you can practically /hear/ your mom pout at the other line.

"Okay, okay. I'll do as you say. Thank you, mom. I love you."

"I love you more my baby."

The call ends and you change out of your usual sweats and oversized tee. You put on a black spaghetti strap and high-wasted mom jeans. You hoop in a black belt and fold the ankles of your pants to show your white sock inside your checkered vans. You finish the look with medium-sized hoop earrings and a oversized red zip-up jacket which you leave unzipped with one shoulder hanging off.

You step out of your apartment, pocketing your keys and taking a deep breath in. Japan is just so beautiful, the scenery, the buildings, even the weather was perfect. You strut down your apartment building, scrolling through your phone as you searched for cafes nearby. It was a five minute walk of calm and relaxing vibes. You step into the cafe, eyes darting around the adorable cottage-core aesthetic it had going.

"Hey my name is Mio. What can I get for you this lovely afternoon?" The cashier beams brightly, your day becoming better and better with every move you make. "I'll have a strawberry shortcake as well as a strawberr frappe with extra foam, strawberry syrup and strawberries." You beam back at her and she takes your order with a bright smile, tapoing away on the computer's screen.

"Does your life depend on strawberries or something?" A rough and deep voice asks behind you, causing you to turn around. Once you do, your eyes widen at the sight of a young blond with vermilion eyes. He looked around your age.

"I like strawberries. Is it that big of a sin?" You ask, soft smile across your face as you cross your arms together. The guy had such piercing eyes, those red orbs looked like they could trap you in them forever.

"Not what I'm saying, but if you're that much of a strawberry fan, I recommend their strawberry pop tarts." His eyes drop to the display fridge beside you and your eyes follow his, landing on the adorable little tarts with red jam on top of them.

Just as you were about to order them, the cashier speaks up. "Your total is 1,500 yen." She smiles brightly, making you pout. You didn't want to cause more trouble for her seeing as your bill has already been printed by the machine.

You scan their QR code, paying virtually as she hands you your buzzer. "We'll give you a signal whrn your order is ready. You can find a seat and wait there thank you!"

You turn around at the blond who's looking at you expectantly, "I guess I'll have to try your recommendation some other time." You smile at him, walking off to the table catering two chairs. It was seated at the far back of the cafe, away from the many customers the cafe had.

You began scrolling through your social media, liking the posts of your past classmates and chuckling at some memes you saw.

A plate full of the same tarts with red jam is placed on your white table and you didn't have to look to see who it was. "Is this you way of flirting with me, rubies?" You ask, looking up at him with a teasing, smug smile. His face contorts into annoyance, "Hah? Flirting with you?" He scoffs, "Not a chance. And who're you calling rubies?"

"Your eyes remind me of rubies. They're pretty."

The blond's face relaxes and you push the seat across from you, silently telling him to sit down. He does as 'told', huffing as he watches you pick of a tart and bring it over to your lips. You bite on it, eyes widening as the flavor explodes in your mouth. It tastes sweet but not the sickeningly sweet kind, it's soft soft in the inside and lightly crunchy on the outside.

"You look like you just ate food made by gods." He chuckles, "You look dumb."

"But it really does taste so good!" You've never felt this much excitement since you found out you got into UA. And that speaks a lot given that you've only ever felt this kind of feeling with your mom.

"I should have bought the entire stock if I knew you liked it that much." Your heart skipped at his words. What is this feeling? You felt nervous all of a sudden, you can barely contain your smile and somehow, you didn't want to go home yet. This is a very new feeling for you. It's kind of... scary.

"I'm L/n."

Idiot. Stop it.

"L/n Y/n." You extend your hand towards him which he looks at for a few moments before taking. You shake both of your hands with a soft smile, your thoughts going haywire at how soft his palms feel.

"Bakugou. Katsuki Bakugou."

You pull your hand away, finishing the last piece of strawberry pop tart on your plate before your buzzer turns on. You pick it up, standing up. "Thanks for the tarts. See you around, rubies."

"Call me that one more time and I'll blow your face up."

You snicker, smirking. "Whatever you say, rubies."

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 1

"Hello Y/n?" You staring because I'm insanely attractive, or..."

You were instantly pulled back into reality, which unfortunately included the cocky, 6’ 3” bastard standing in front of you. His name was Gojo Satoru, but as he so enthusiastically reminded you, he was your superior and you were to call him Sensei. You felt a slight blush pepper your cheeks as you looked up and stuttered a defensive response, “What? N-no...” You could see the shadow of a smirk form around the corners of his irritating mouth. “All right, then try to pay attention. This is important.”

Gojo was in charge of training you alongside three other first-year Tokyo Tech students, and today happened to be your first day. You had barely gotten a chance to get acquainted with your new classmates, and your first impressions of the three included one pink-topped ball of energy, a spiky-haired lanky boy who had incredible eyelashes, and a quick-witted girl who seemed like a badass. You would get to know them later, you thought to yourself. For now, your first order of business was paying attention to what your Sensei was teaching you.

The classroom was small and hot, even more than usual for an August afternoon. You couldn’t tell if it was a bit warmer because you were alone in that classroom with a tall, (rather handsome man, however much you hated to admit to yourself). He was trying to explain the technicalities of Curses of various grades, drawing out diagrams and charts on a black chalkboard. Your eyes slowly wandered to his right hand, which was tightly gripping the chalk. How was his hand so large...your distracted eyes trailed along his arm to the back of his neck, and it was almost as if he could see you through the back of his head. He snapped around quickly and took two strides toward your desk.

He slapped his arms down on the desk and leaned down to tower over you, his face inches away from yours. Although he wore his blindfold, you could still feel his eyes piercing into yours. “Is this going to be a problem, sweetheart? Can’t pay attention to a single thing I’m teaching you?”

Sweetheart? Who the hell did he think he was? His Grade-A sarcasm was getting on your nerves. Embarrassed at being caught staring at your teacher, you averted your gaze and turned away. He took your chin between his thumb and index finger and turned you back towards him. In a much softer tone, he smiled and said “Come on, I know I’m dashing...but you just need to look past that and listen to what my pretty mouth is saying.” You wanted to slap him for making you feel so little...he let go of you and your face burned where he was gripping you. However, at the mention of his “pretty mouth,” part of you just had to check and see for yourself the truthfulness of this statement.

You sucked in air between your teeth as your eyes flitted over his lips. Pretty mouth, indeed. Did this man wear strawberry-flavored Lip-smackers? Why in the world were they so moisturized? I wonder how soft they are, you quietly thought to yourself...I wonder how good they feel.

You mentally steeled yourself and learned the rest of the lesson attentively, trying your hardest not to let your mind wander. You kept telling yourself that the heat was making you delirious. It was nothing else. When the lesson was finally over, you turned to walk out the door. “Wait, one more thing,” you heard Gojo say. As you twirled back around quickly, you could feel your uniform skirt ride up slightly. You could have sworn that for a split second, his gaze switched to your bare legs. But you would never know, as you had no idea what mysteries were under that blindfold.

From the other side of the classroom, he said, “We always have a beginning-of-term party at my place. It’s always a great time, and you can get to know your classmates and Sensei better. I’ll text you the address later, yeah? It’s tomorrow night at 9 PM. Better be there, sweetheart.” You knew that he was teasing you with that nickname because of your bitter attitude towards him, but a tiny (no, microscopic) part of you enjoyed it. Enjoyed being singled out by the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer. Although you were still somewhat intimidated by him, you couldn’t help but feel your confidence (or perhaps cockiness) arise. “We’ll see.” You said, and saw a slight raise in his eyebrows before you turned and walked out of the classroom.

You were glad it was Saturday, as the training from your first day at Tokyo Tech was overwhelming. You stretched and yawned, making your way out of your dorm room for the morning. Inside the hallway, you saw your fellow first-year sorcerers conversing sleepily with one another. They waved at you, the pink-haired boy named Yuji practically jumping up and down like a golden retriever puppy.

The spiky-haired boy named Megumi rolled his eyes at him and then looked over at you. The four of you chatted for a bit until Nobara suggested that you all go shopping together in downtown Tokyo on their day off. Your heart jumped at the thought; a day in Tokyo with your new friends, shopping for clothes you don’t need and buying far too many sweets? Your enormous sweet tooth was delighted at the thought. So you spent the rainy, cloudy day running from shop to street stall in Tokyo, laughing and taking stupid pictures and accidentally spilling strawberry Mochi on yourself. Damn-it, you thought. Why did the strawberry scent remind you of a certain teacher’s lips? No, stop it, you silently scolded yourself as you wiped the front of your shirt down furiously. Get your mind out of the gutter.

And just like that, it was almost 9 PM, and you were back at Tech getting ready with Nobara in her dorm room. Since it was a stormy night, you chose to wear black sweatpants and a fitted black long-sleeved top. Yes, you were a proprietor of the Bloutfit. And why not wear sweatpants, if it was storming outside and you were going to be drenched, anyways? You and Nobara ran through the rain and into a black Taxi cab, giving the driver the directions to Gojo’s address. After a fifteen minute drive, the driver parked in front of the sexiest high rise building you had ever seen. Did this fool live in a god damn penthouse? Where was he getting this much money? The more you learned about this man, the more curious you got. After paying the driver, you and Nobara dashed into the building but got soaked in the process. You huddled in the elevator, pushing the golden button for the 38th floor. You ascended and soon found yourself knocking on your Sensei’s door.

It was opened, and you made direct eye contact with Gojo’s chest. You took in the black sweatshirt he was wearing, and heard him say, “Hey, buddy. Eyes up here.” Boy, did he know how to make a fool out of you. “Hey,” you said, while looking up to meet his once again covered eyes. This time, however, he was wearing a pair of round sunglasses. You wanted to scream. Why wouldn’t he let anyone see his eyes? Whatever. You didn’t care.

Nobara, somehow perfectly dry now, pushed past him and made herself at home quickly, hopping onto a large plushy couch alongside Megumi and Yuji. How did she manage to get herself dried off? You guessed she was just further along with sorcery than you were. Sitting on the floor around the couch were three second-years, an innocent-looking boy named Toge, a tall, bespectacled girl named Maki, and a...yes, a large Panda. You still stood outdoors facing Gojo. “You’re wet,” he commented offhandedly. You were quick to stammer, “N-no, I’m not.” He leaned back into his doorframe and crossed his arms. “No, look at you, you’re soaked,” he replied, enjoying toying with your seemingly weak temperament. It took you a minute to realize he was talking about your clothes, not what was between your legs. You looked down and noticed your top clinging a little too tightly to your chest and swallowed. He laughed and said, “don’t sweat it, I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

He turned and you followed suit, trailing your wet footsteps through his apartment. You greeted your classmates and entered Gojo’s bedroom hesitantly. You immediately gasped, taking in the breathtaking view from the 38th floor of a Tokyo skyscraper. You were dazzled by the lights and whirring streetcars, and pressed your face and hands against the cool glass. You watched through the blur of raindrops, distracted until a slight touch at the small of your back made you jump. Gojo chuckled as you turned to face him. He handed you a black t-shirt of his, which was definitely five sizes too large on you. He so graciously turned around as you changed, but you soon came to realize you had another issue at hand.

Your bra was completely soaked through. Fuck, you thought. It better not be cold in his house. You put on his shirt, feeling conscious that you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. Luckily, it was rather warm in his room. “You can turn around now,” you said, and he took your wet clothes from you and disappeared into his bathroom. “All right, let’s get this party started!” He said when he came back, pulling you roughly by the arm back into the room with everyone else.

Yuji, ever the party animal, was in charge of the aux for the night. You laughed as he blasted “I wanna see some ass” by Jack Harlow, because of course he would. It felt like the apartment was shaking and your eardrums were going to burst from how loud the music was. You loved dancing at any chance you got, and so did everyone else at the party (except for Megumi, who took a little bit of convincing and hand-pulling from Nobara). Toge and Panda were linking arms and swinging each other around, Maki was busting down on the floor, and Nobara and Megumi were raising ruckus on top of the couch, occasionally grabbing onto a glass chandelier. Gojo was jumping from table to table, clearly having fun showing off.

Everyone had drinks in their hands and was getting absolutely sloshed in the presence of their ever-responsible adult chaperone, Gojo Sensei. Well, everyone but...you. You had a few, but you wanted to remember this night. Still vibing to this song, you jokingly started grinding you ass up against Yuji’s front and you both started laughing. After thirty more minutes of drinking and dancing, everyone crashed on the spot. Everyone except for you and your teacher.

You two were the only people there who were close to sober, thanks to your pacing and his insane alcohol tolerance (it’s the strongest)! “So, do these start-of-term parties usually turn in to sleepovers?” You jested. “Yeah, it’s much safer for them to sleep here if they’re wasted than try getting home on their own. Also, somehow the storm got ten times worse,” he chuckled. You smiled to yourself at how much he cared for his students. Your eyes wandered to his bedroom again, and he took notice immediately. “You liked the view, didn’t you? Want to come see it again?”

He took your arm and guided you once again to his room. He closed the door lightly and flopped onto his bed. You followed after him, inhibitions forgotten because of your two shots of sake. You laid up facing the ceiling, and he turned to face you, propped up on one elbow. You still stared at the ceiling, getting chills from his rudely staring eyes on you. Your chills, to your great misfortune, suddenly multiplied due to his AC suddenly blasting. Gojo’s eyes trailed down to your breasts, which looked delicious underneath his own loose black t-shirt. He swallowed, and he couldn’t deny that a little blood rushed south at the thought of him getting you aroused. “Cold isn’t it,” he pointed out, a long index finger taking a quick poke at one of your perked nipples. You felt your heart rate rise and fall more rapidly, and you turned to face this arrogant idiot who seemed to have a vice-like grip on your mind.

I’ll get him for that, you thought with vengeance, and straddled him while he was still laying down. You snatched off his sunglasses before his fast reflexes could help him, and your jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” you ogled at his crystal-like eyes. He laughed and quipped, “I knew you thought I was hot, sweetheart. You just won’t admit it to me.” You slanted your eyebrows angrily and said “I do not,” like a child. Like a third-grader refusing to admit they had a schoolgirl crush on their next-door-neighbor. “Really?” He raised an eyebrow and swiftly pulled down the band of your sweatpants with one finger. “Then why are you this wet?” He smiled, flashing you all of his stupid pearly whites. “I haven’t even touched you yet, princess.”

You gasped at the cold air hitting your bare skin, and looked down at yourself. There was no denying it, you were damp. “You know,” he said, slowly sitting up, “Jujutsu sorcerers have to be extremely in tune with all of their senses. Particularly touch.” He leaned in and whispered into your ear, “So consider this part of your training.”

Before you could snappily retort, he pulled you off of him and pinned you onto his white sheets. He towered above you, and smiled cunningly as he slipped off your sweatpants and snatched his shirt off from above your head. You laid before him in just a pair of black panties, (you are so committed to the Bloutfit), while he kneeled above you, still completely clothed. You appreciated the fact that he was wearing grey sweatpants, as you would see a growing erection pressed against them. You grew a bit conscious of the fact that you were almost completely exposed, while he was clothed, and you put up your hands to cover your chest. “Don’t even think about it,” Gojo tutted, prying your hands away and pinning them above your head with one of his hands. “Good girl,” he growled hungrily, and used his other hand to lightly grip your throat.

You closed your eyes and crashed your lips against his, immediately tasting sweet, sugary strawberry. His tongue ventured into your mouth and muffled a small moan of yours. He pulled back, and you could see a tiny trail of saliva connecting your lips. He kissed at your neck, marking his territory, and stopped right at your breasts.

He took a lap at one of your tits, swirling his tongue around the nipple. While his right hand kept both your arms pinned, his left fondled and played with your other breast. “Mmm....” he groaned with a smile. “Who knew you would taste so good?” He continued licking and squeezing at your breasts until you were a panting, blushing mess. He laughed at you. “Getting desperate, are we?” “Shut the fuck-,” you began whining at him, until you were shocked by one of his thumbs wrapping around the band of your panties. He pulled the band’s elastic and let it slap against your hip. “Stop being mean,” you whispered, and he let go of your arms.

He slowly lowered himself down between your legs and looked up at you. “No...” he tilted his head at you. “You’re going to beg for me. Won’t be so hard for you, since you’re so eager already,” he pointed out the wetness pooling between your thighs.

Instinctively, you closed your legs, feeling too nude. Again, Gojo sighed. “Aren’t you going to be a good girl and open your legs for me?” At this point, you could only moan quietly as he slowly opened your legs, and slipped off and placed your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants. “Wow, I wasn’t kidding. Your pretty little cunt is so wet for me.” He lowered his head and kissed a wet trail of sloppy kisses and bit up your right thigh, and then your left. He stopped right in front of your heat, and blew onto your clit. Exasperated, you begged, “please, Gojo. I need you right now.” “Where are your manners? Say the magic word.” He joked around.

How could this buffoon still be cracking jokes when he was between your legs, a centimeter away from ravishing your pussy with his tongue? You rolled your eyes and said, “please?” He looked up at you. “I was looking for Sensei, but I guess that’ll have to do.”

Once again not sparing you a chance to angrily reply, he dove in and licked circles around your swollen cunt until your legs were shaking. You gasped a breathy, “Gojo?!” as he slipped one of his long digits into your wetness, pumping in and out at a rapid pace that was making you lose your mind. You felt a buildup in your heat, threatening to release and wash over you. “Gojo, I-I think I’m gonna-,” but he wasn’t about to let that happen. Not yet. No, he was going to train you to cum when he wanted you to. So he pulled his finger out, and both of you moaned quietly (so as not to wake up your napping classmates and his napping students).

He shoved his finger into your mouth, eliciting a soft gag from you. “Lick it clean,” he instructed. You complied, tasting your own essence on his fingertips. He leaned back against his headboard. “Come here,” he said. He didn’t have to tell you twice.

You crawled over and straddled his lap, and you reached for the hem of his shirt. He laughed again at your helpless desperation, and removed it in one go. Your heart rate skyrocketed again as you took in his chiseled abs and broad chest. You were still panting and unsatisfied from Gojo not allowing your earlier release. He, however, was not tired out in the slightest. Of course, his stamina was unmatchable. He pulled the band of his own sweatpants down, and you were taken aback by his size. You knew he was tall, but...”I-I don’t think it’ll fit,” you muttered. He pulled your face down against his and mumbled against your lips, “I’ll make it fit.”

He leaned down and spit against your cunt, making you groan and buck your hips against him. “Was that a moan?” He asked in his usual, smart-ass tone. “Keep it down, will you? I don’t need you waking up the neighbors.” He put a large hand over your mouth, and simultaneously slid up into you. You wanted to cry at the stretch he gave you, but your ego couldn’t let that happen. He watched you get yourself off by moving up and down on his dick, going slowly at first. He wasn’t satisfied yet, so he gripped you around the hips and mercilessly moved you up and down himself. He watched, salivating, as your breasts bounced and you threw your head back. He muffled your moans, but he still smirked at the sound of you saying his name while drunk on pleasure. He wanted you to finish first, because being the last one standing was always a little boost to his overly-inflated ego.

“You can cum now. You’ve been wanting to for a while now, right? My little whore. Cum all over me.” This little round of dirty talk was enough to send you over the edge, and you held back your screams as you spasmed and collapsed onto him. He pulled out and came onto your chest, admiring how he painted it with himself. “You were such a good girl for me,” Gojo grinned. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He carried your limp body to the shower and helped clean himself off of you. He handed you another overly large t-shirt of his, because he loved seeing you wear his clothes and smell like him. Once back in the bed, he spread his legs and let you lay on top of him the entire night, while the storm continued to rage outside. Your last thoughts before drifting off into an undisturbed sleep were, “boy, does this moron know how to fuck.”

🌹