#I love drawing him so much he’s such a little hasty good boy!

[weissily]

Little Yuu doodle I wanted to post :>

(Click for better quality)

[bitchimasnake-sss]

Sleep nonnie again. Is it okay if I go by 🦊🌲 its easier.

Anyways I think it would be a funny scenario if you suggest to the op boys to keep their hands warm by putting them between your thighs. I know some boys would just get a heart attack if you suggest that and get a cute blush

say whAT NOW?? NONNIE HELLO AND WELCOME BACK!! (dm me so that we can be friends ur fic ideas are so out of pocket i love it); also, gonna add ace cause i see many ace thirsties out there ;)

let me warm you up ft. the monster trio//ace!

luffy:

💗when he agreed to this, he didn't know just what kind of uncharted territory he was entering. he was simply not prepared. you had given him such a soft smile, taking his hands into yours as gingerly, "luff, are you cold?" he had nodded a mindless yes because you were crossing a terribly cold patch of the sea and his hands were freezing. but then held his hand a bit tighter and whispered, "i can warm them up for you. if you like?" he was too drunk on the idea to see the mischievous glint in your eyes and the way you spurred him on with your honey-like voice.

💗so now, he sat in front of you, eyes blown wide and lips trembling as his hands rested between your plush thighs. you had squeezed your thighs shut around his restless hands, claiming that it'll get him warm in little to no time. but god, this was hard (much like something else) and he was trying his best to keep his fingers still and not do anything hasty, like digging it into your soft flesh and relishing in the way your body molded to his touches. or by trailing his hand a bit upwards and seeing the way you react. 💗"luffy??" you called out and captain shook his head as he crawled out of that daze like state, "y-yeah?" "you okay?" you mumbled, voice far too gentle. you fucking minx. "you seem like you're losing your mind." good catch! because he was. luffy abruptly pulled his hands backwards lest he do something that truly made him lose his sanity. he scrambled off of your bed, heading out the door into the chilly deck in long, skitterish steps. "where ya going?" you called after him but he rushed out, yelling after himself, "JUST GONNA WARM UP WITH USSOP INSTEAD BYE" did ussop have better thighs than you? you may never know.

zoro:

💚zoro was very stupid, very. he was not the smartest tool in the shed when it came to love or crushes or dating or cooking food or social cues or emotional intelligence or— i should stop before this turns into zoro slander [i promise i love him]. but now, the bounty hunter sat with his face flushed and hands tucked between your soft, malleable thighs. he was smarter than this, truly. he knew that when you suggested that he looked cold and you can warm him up, he was supposed to say "fuck no, get out." because having a crush on you was embarrassing enough on it's own. but you had given him such a gut-wrenching, pleading look. your eyes saddened and your lips fell into a pout and oh god, what was he, if not the man who would let you ruin him? 💚ever since he was a child, zoro had always known that he would die a noble swordman's death. he would die fighting, brave, courageous, unafraid. now, he was sure he'd die from the way you squirmed and pressed your thighs shut. "quit movin'" he grunted, looking away from you as your stared at him. but you tucked your arms against your chest and the soft swell of your tits fell forward towards him so deliciously. he must have lost focus and let his gaze travel against your body cause you coughed, drawing his attention back to your face, "quit starin'." he pulled his hands back, ears going red and heart faltering. he should really stop before he gave into the temptations and pinned you to the mattress to— his voice pitched up, "i-i'm going back to my room, bye." "zoro?!" you called after the swordsman as he ran out, "BUT THIS IS YOUR ROOM, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??" [spoiler: he went to chopper and crushed herbs to make medicine. he wanted to get rid of some of that tension but he failed. because he put the pressure too hard and the china dish in which he was crushing the leafy herbs broke, and now chopper was hitting him square in his head, talking about how important it was to be precise in medicine and how zoro will never make a good doctor. "stop hitting me— OW" "what KIND OF A DOCTOR ARE YOU?" "IM A SWORDSMAN!" "YEAH CAUSE YOU CANNOT BE A DOCTOR!"]

sanji:

💙breath in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out. breath in, breath out— "sanji?" you asked, a tinge of worry at his almost fainting figure, "are you okay?!" "my love, darling, sugar pie—" the man caught his tongue between his teeth, trying to stop his head from spinning. the floor seem to sway under him, the lights seemed too bright. was he flying or was it the blood rush?? "what did you just ask me?" you look down at the kitchen floor, mumbling with a bashful smile, "if your hands are cold...i can warm them up." his heart quickened as did his fingers. he chopped the bell pepper so hastily that you were sure you saw sparks flying. "and how would you do that?" "you can keep them between my thighs, if you like?" you looked up, "OH MY GOD SANJI YOUR NOSE—" 💙i hate to cut the story short but sanji 100% fainted and you had to catch him before he fell face-forward into the pot with boiling water on the stove. sorry, he gets no bitches :( but you did look after him on the bedside and let him eventually touch your thighs so... idk, a win is a win!!! ["so, is he like dead?" zoro had asked, uninterested, as you hauled the cook's figure outside the kitchen. you were dragging him to his room as the rest of the crew trailed you. they had heard your shriek and came spilling into the kitchen to see what the fuss was about. "did you give him a hug?" nami asked, amused. "hug's too much." ussop snickered, "she probably smiled at him." sanji whipped his head dangerously to glare at them, "i can hear you. and i will be poisoning your food." he looked back at you, "oh don't you worry, im still fainted." he closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall on your shoulder. you smiled to yourself, making a note to warm him up later]

ace:

🧡truthfully, how do you ask a man made of literal fire if you can "warm him up"??? you must have not thought you plan through because you had stood in his room a bit tipsy, locked the door behind you and asked a boy [who was always shirtless cause he was so warm] that question. "huh?" ace's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. he stood up to walk towards you, "what is that about? you wanna warm me up?" "NO!" you bit your cheek when you realized the implications of your words, "i was joking, obviously." "awh, i do love when you humor me." he quipped, "it's kinda cute." "shut up." you glared at him but he gave you an earnest smile back, "if you're cold, you could have just told me." he set his finger ablaze, acting suave, "see, i can warm you up." "you wanna set me on fire?" you seethed. "no?!" "why did you light your fingers on fire?!" "YOU ASKED A MAN MADE OF FIRE IF YOU CAN WARM HIM UP? DONT ASK ME QUESTIONS?!" "i'm drunk" you mumbled. after a beat you looked down at the floor, "and... i'm kinda cold." portagas d. ace just smiled, shrugging in mock nonchalance, "we can cuddle, if you like. i've been told i'm a pretty great heater." you laughed, "hah, hotshot." ace gave you a wicked grin, "how drunk are you?" "not nearly enough." just saying, portagas d ace was better than just a "pretty great heater." he was a pretty great fu-

a/n: i love writing stupid things so much. it makes me so happy because i'm a stupid little girl giggling and typing on her laptop when she should be doing work. tagging the ever lovelies: @bokutosbiceps (resident luffy enjoyer) and @help-i-lost-my-sock (resident ace enjoyer). if you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know (//tell me your preferences and i'd tag you in those fics)!

[del-thetiredwriter]

Mafia au/ Good Luck while running away from the mafia part 1

Intro , part 0.5 , part 2 , part 3

Notes: Guess what I’m back . To be honest I didn’t quite like it but anyway I’m posting it and I can’t write fight scenes (￣▽￣;). It’s so exhausting.

Tags: @loivre , @randomlyappearingartist , @serenity-loves-red , @hasty-desert , @moonlight-nightwing , @hrhqueenfox , @oceanside-pixie

Warning: cursing, fighting, blood, shooting, Yandere stuff…

“Riddle-san, what are you doing, sir?”

At the question, Riddle briefly lifted his eyes from the documents and looked at you.

“I was just wondering about a thing.” He replied.

You looked around at the files arranged in order. All of them had one thing in common: betrayal, crime, wrong, etc. against the organizations punishments .

“I was really curious about what caught Riddle-san's attention. What could possibly make you go through even the files from the old manager Trein-sensei's time?"

Riddle smiled.

"Don't worry, you'll find out soon." said Riddle.

You were suddenly startled by the sound of footsteps. Apparently you fell asleep. You're not normally someone who sleeps a lot, but for the past two weeks you haven't been able to sleep properly.

After leaving the organization or rather escaping, you temporarily settled in a remote coastal city where you hoped they'd find you a little late. With a little help, you changed your identity, your phone line, everything. You've removed everything that indicates Y/n L/n.

Life here was calmer compared to your old life. You wished you could stay here forever. But you knew they would find you eventually. You lived ,one night in your sleep afraid that they would find you at your most vulnerable moment.

You were currently working in a cafe. Although it may seem a little illogical, working at the cafe, which was open until midnight, was actually a little better for you. The more people around you, the easier it is to avoid them.

"Yo!" You turned the way you came. Your colleague Alex was glaring at you with his arms folded.

“Yuu, what are you doing in the camera room again, are you skipping work again?”

'Yuu' is your new identity that you created to make it harder for them to find you while running away. You still had a hard time getting used to the name.

“No, Alex. I just- "

"Anyway, I'm going downstairs. You have the upstairs okay?"

You nodded and Alex left the room. You looked at the clock, it was 10:00 pm. You stretched yourself and yawned. Two more hours until the end of the shift.

As you were about to get up, your eyes were caught by the cameras. Your eyes widened in panic at what you saw. You watched three people enter the cafe. You'll recognize those red hair, those grins, those faces wherever you see them. Heartslabyul found you. No, they all found you. You clenched your teeth, your time was limited.

The reason you spent most of your time in the camera room was because you could see everything from here. You quickly grabbed your gun from the locked drawer and loaded it. Deuce and Cater took a table downstairs near the front exit. Ace was walking up the stairs.

You took a deep breath. You should have thought fast. You should have gotten out of here . But for that you had to go down the stairs first.

You went behind the door and waited. You waited for Ace to find you.

Look at the cameras. It was approaching. You gripped your gun tightly. And the door opened. You punched the poor boy in the face as the door opened.

“Agh-“ A bitter moan broke out from Ace.

Before he could draw his gun, you kicked him in the stomach and dropped it to the ground.

“Agh- it's been a long time and the first thing you do when you see me is attack me? Really Y/n.” Ace grinned . Clutching his nose, which was bleeding from your punch.

You muttered, "Bastard."

“Come on Y/n didn't you miss me? I missed you so much." He tried to punch you, but you avoided him. You both started to struggle. Ace might have been strong, but you were more experienced and stronger than him. You grabbed him by the head and knocked him to the ground. Before he could regain his balance, you took his tie and tied him with it.

“What am I going to miss about you, you sadistic bastard!”

You picked up the gun on the ground.

“What? Are you going to shoot me ?” Ace said in a tone you didn't like.

“You have to stop asking questions you know the answer to.”

At 11:00 pm, screams broke out in a cafe with the sound of 'bang' gunfire. Everyone in the cafe began to flee desperately, except for two people. The two men, one with red hair and the other with black hair, started to make their way to the upper floor of the cafe.

“Do you think who shot whom, hmm~” Cater asked the younger one.

As the two of them went upstairs, the power went out suddenly and the whole cafe was plunged into darkness.

“Looks like Y/n-chan won.” said Cater to himself.

“Let's separate . You stay here, Y/n has to use the stairs before they can get out of the cafe.” Cater instructed.

“Okay, sir.” said Deuce.

You held your breath under the table. You waited for Cater's footsteps to go away. You were the one who cut the electricity. Five minutes later the generator would start working . You should have gotten out of here by then. Finally, making sure that Cater was far enough away, you slowly came out from under the table. No matter how hard you tried not to make a sound, Deuce heard you.

“Y/n? Is this you ?"

Now that his eyes were accustomed to the dark, he could barely make out your silhouette. Everything happened so abruptly. You took a chair and hit Deuce with it. While he was stunned by the blow, you ran downstairs with your names and the electricity came back. Your five minutes were up.

When the lights were turned on, an unexpected sight was in front of you.

Riddle was sitting at a table eating strawberry pie as if nothing had happened.

“Ah, Y/n you finally came down. I was getting really bored waiting for you.” He said while taking a slice of the pie.

You pointed your gun at him. "Get out of my way if you don't-"

"It's been a long time since we've seen each other, Y/n, but will you put that gun down?" A familiar voice said as you turned around and saw Trey pointing his gun at you. As always, even in this state, he was smiling gently at you.

“Tch. What do you want ? Why are you here?" You asked questions that you know very well the answer to.

Riddle smiled.

“Y/n L/n you are posing a great danger to the organization right now. You also have cases of injuring my men. You understand what I'm trying to say, right?"

"Get out of my way or I'll shoot you."

Riddle laughed.

“You won’t t kill me, you can't. Just like we can't do to you. Now if you drop that gun, I'll do my best to mitigate your sentence."

This was clearly a lie. You grit your teeth. You smiled calmly and did as he said. You slowly put your gun down and raised your hands in the air.

“Well done, here it is. I wish you would always listen to my words like this. Now let's go back." said Riddle.

“Sorry Riddle but I won't be back!” You said and detonated the smoke bomb you were hiding. The area was suddenly covered with fog. You quickly walked out the front door through that mess and got into your car.

“Get them quick!” Riddle shouted.

You quickly drove away. There was no turning back anymore. The Game has started.

[overnowsfcb]

halfway out the door; fermín lópez

summary: fighting to keep a little flame alive underwater, you couldn't lose the only stable thing in your life

warnings: ANGST!!! (no good ending) mature language, mental health issues (panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress), relationship struggles, unhealthy dinamics, brief mention of smut themes. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 3,3k

note: hiii! it's me again, this time posting for my sweet boy (who is not as sweet in this story) fermín. im planning to do something with all the 1989 vault tracks x barça players. so take it as the first from the series!! also, apologies if the angst hits hard, promise to post fluff next time (its a bit of challenge for me haha) super excited about this and would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions! – venus 🫂💐🫧 p.s.: im so proud of this one tbh

He didn’t seem to have enough time for you anymore. You didn’t want to see the subtle twist, but you knew him all too well and an imperceptible change for everyone was an imposing earthquake in your world.

It was in the hours that your messages would be waiting for a response and the way he wasn’t starved to taste your lips anymore. Once, he’d find an excuse to be with you, even if only for brief minutes. He’d dash to your apartment bearing your favorite chocolate with the pretext of keeping you fed. A smile brightening and your stomach still produced the same fluttering butterflies, as the first time he kissed you underneath the moonlight at fourteen.

Back then, everything was perfect, the chill air in your faces as you ran with sand getting between your toes, you could still feel his timid hands and tender touch on your waist as you both shared a breathtaking kiss.

Your mother's words echoed - relationships don't last forever. You'd always dismissed her musings, attributing them to the bitterness stemming from your father's departure. But now, that thought held a glimmer of truth.

He was your soulmate, your solid backbone, he would hold the candles for you even if his arm grew weary, drawing strength from unimaginable places. Unseen pictures would fill his phone, capturing your candid moments, proudly setting you as his lock screen. One cherished memory stood out: a photo of you, pajama-clad, returning from a late-night ice cream run, a victorious smile on your face. You had lost a bet that day, darting to the store at 1 AM, just a street away from your building.

However, now everything appeared to be falling apart; the last picture in his gallery folder, titled 'I love, mine, mine, mine,' dated back to July, and it was already November. It contrasted the warmth of July with the chilling absence of recent affection.

Yearning for something to blame, tears seemed futile as memories replayed relentlessly, etched deep within your heart. Each sob felt like a painful reminder of the emptiness in the cold, desolate bed without him by your side. Staring at it blankly, your mind echoed the silent void, your chest tightening with every expelled breath.

Sleeping alone always felt unbearable. You reached for your phone, gazing at the lock screen displaying a snapshot of both of you in a summer pool. His outings with friends never bothered you; you accepted that he was now part of Barcelona's first team, and you weren't his priority. However, deep down, a simple goodnight message like "Sweet dreams, Pip, I love you" was all you silently longed for. Was it too much to ask from someone who claimed to love you?

The absence weighed heavily as you saw the clock strike 4 AM. This hour always induced a sense of dread, a time too late to sleep, opening the gates to wandering thoughts about life's choices. Moving to Barcelona for him might have been a hasty decision.

In Sevilla, there wasn't much to lose. Your little town overwhelmed you, especially under the weight of your living nightmare, your mother and her pursuit of perfection. That was until she married your toddler brother’s father, her focus shifted almost forgetting about your existence.

He was your escape from that suffocating environment. Initially, it felt liberating, but gradually, it became confining again. The cage expanded as you became his pillar while his name was in everyone’s mouth, especially girls who found him attractive. The weight of being his support, witnessing the attention he received, caused an internal storm. But he wouldn’t change you, right? Yet, the conflict brewed within, the tug-of-war between being the support he needed and holding onto your own identity.

You grew tired of waiting for him, tossing and turning in bed for ten minutes, before finally succumbing to sleep, cocooned in blankets to ward off the cold.

Abruptly opening your eyes, hours later, your body spasmed and your heart raced, reflecting the recent struggles with sleep these days. Observing to your side, relief washed over you; he lay there peacefully, an arm draped over your waist.

Tears welled in your eyes, a sense of loss filling your chest. Deeply in love, you realized your first waking thought was about him, albeit taking a negative turn.

What if I lose him? What if I lost the lighthouse in the middle of the sea? The uncertainty of the waters and the potential fall weighed heavily.

You wanted to get back to those times when you smiled as you landed your eyes, his body next to you, where blonde strands of messy hair framed his face and you delicately organized them while you talked and kissed every morning, staying in bed like an old married couple, feeling each other's warmth, laughter used to fill the air as he playfully booped your nose.

The weight of invisible hands squeezed your chest, making each breath a desperate gasp for air.

You didn't want to feel this anxiety; your breath became erratic. Rushing to the terrace, you breathed as if your mind forewarned a trailer of what has to be.

Struggling to regain control, your hands tightened on the cold railing, a reminder of the grounding reality you struggled to grasp.

Peering down, the height induced paralysis, intensifying your vertigo. "y/n, estás bien?" (are you okay?) His concerned voice, muffled and distant, struggled to penetrate the thick fog of panic, fear rooted you in place, afraid the floor would fall through if you made a step.

"Amor, háblame." (darling, talk to me) He approached, unsure. This panic attack was the first in years. His hand on your shoulder offered reassurance like an anchor, and you emerged from the state, meeting his gaze with your tear-stained eyes; he was still your gentleman. He was still yours.

And you needed to repeat it to stave off madness.

"Abrázame," (hug me) you whispered in a fragile plea. His arms enveloped you, he was the refuge that you needed; his familiar scent eased your breathing.

His head on yours, he sought to share his heartbeat, attempting to quell the sudden anxiety and the questions that haunted your mind. His furrowed brows hinted at his confusion, but conversation could wait. For now, it was about you. The one who never failed him; he couldn't fail you now.

When your body distended completely, he gently guided you back to bed. You clung to him, as if he could run away at any moment.

You walked to your side of the bed and he tucked you in like no one ever did before, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead, an attempt to dissipate the negativity.

“What time is it?” you inquired, looking up at him.

“Six a.m., sleep. ok?” He stroked your head, and your eyes closed under the weight of fatigue. “I love you so much.”

Days passed after the incident. He chose not to ask more about the reason behind your anxiety, he decided to act as if everything was fine.

This didn't imply he lacked concern for you, but it certainly felt that way. His demeanor towards you was still unchanged.

Feelings unaddressed hung in the air, manifesting in the cold kisses and the superficial small talk that never deepened. But, in front of everyone, you maintained the façade, accepting compliments from everyone about your seemingly perfect relationship. Only if they knew the underlying truth…

Yet, you personally sensed his gradual withdrawal, a palpable feeling of him slipping through your fingers. The strain became evident as you found yourself having to repeat things that were important to you at least three times, only for him to continually forget. Or the lackluster pecks he gave you, making you feel pathetic.

Although feeling unwanted, you weren't a resentful person, so you would religiously sit in the stands at every game and witness how he gained fan's hearts with outstanding performances on the pitch, earning the title of man of one of the champions league matches and you loved how the stadium echoed his name as he made an incredible goal.

You found joy in his happiness, doing his thing with the team of his dreams. In that moment, your mind transported into a different time – those moments when you stood by his side, offering comfort during his moments of self-doubt, back when he believed his dreams would forever be just that – dreams.

His satisfaction meant the world to you. Meeting him as he emerged from the dressing room, already showered, you couldn't help but admire how his wet hair framed his face.

A big smile adorned his face as he approached you. Opening your arms, your bodies collided as he effortlessly lifted you spinning around, creating a whirlwind of laughter that filled the air.

Once he gently set you down, you couldn't contain your pride. Cupping his cheeks, you locked eyes with him. The sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Your lips met his in a deep, meaningful kiss – one that hadn't been shared in weeks, but in that moment, it felt like the perfect reunion.

You believed this moment marked a fresh start, a much-needed rejuvenation to propel you forward. That optimistic outlook, however, disintegrated after he bid you farewell at your apartment, scrolling through TikTok on your couch, a video of his post-match interview caught your eye, and an involuntary smile crept onto your face.

His voice echoed through the video, captivating in its beauty. The interviewer's final question lingered in the air, "Who are you going to celebrate this with?" Anticipating a mention of teammates, family, and you, you were bewildered as the final words left his mouth – your name conspicuously absent.

And in that instant, the realization struck: he hadn't kept his promise to do a heart gesture to include you in his celebration either. But you decided to let it slide; perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that caused him to forget, and you were willing to overlook it.

You turned on the TV to avoid your thoughts. He no longer watched movies with you, and lately, the time you spent together felt like his phone held more allure than anything you did to catch his attention.

Without even mentioning that he wasn't fucking you lately, offering excuses of exhaustion from training or unexpectedly halting any progress when things got heated and leaving your folds wet.

But still, your mouth stayed shut, justifying every action. What you didn't know is that only one drop was missing in the glass before it overflowed – the last straw.

And eventually, the bomb exploded in the least suitable scenario. You stood by his side, his arm around your waist, desperately wanting to take his hand out and shout your feelings in front of everyone.

You didn't want to be there; you longed to be at home with your fluffy cat, who offered more comfort than Fermín did in these past months.

He was so smooth about it, engrossed in the conversation with his friends, seemingly oblivious to your distress. You whispered in his ear that you needed to get home, you weren’t feeling at your best, the strobe lights blinding you, the music pulsating louder than your heartbeat. It felt like water was reaching your nose, and you feared you'd stop breathing any moment.

Yet, you stayed, like a naive girl striving to make everything perfect for her lovely gentleman. But was still that gentleman who put you above all else?

The voices and laughter from his friends overwhelmed you. While you genuinely liked them and had never encountered an issue before, this night seemed a challenge you couldn't survive.

Your gaze darted around, hoping for a savior amid the sea of faces. But there was no one.

The air seemed to get thinner, and your chest constricted, as if locked in a slowly tight embrace. The blue dress discomforting your skin, felt like an additional layer of confinement, fantasizing to shed not only the fabric but also the skin beneath.

It was as if transparent walls were materializing around you, and this was the moment to escape a place to which you didn't belong, feeling like a misplaced puzzle piece, you watched him again with pleading eyes, silently urging him to notice you.

“Fer, really, I need to go home.” You whispered, careful not to let his friends overhear. He scanned your gestures, it took him a few seconds to realize that something about you was off. You wish he had seen it earlier.

Everything he did was later than you needed it, when he did the things, you have already fixed yourself into the uncomfortable.

“Okay, let's go.” He nodded and he finally took out his hand off your waist, allowing a momentary exhale. Greetings were exchanged with his friends and you reciprocated, not wanting to show an impolite image.

Almost running, your feet propelled you outside of the disco, pushing people out of your way, without waiting for Fermín.

The doors swung shut behind you, plunging the abrupt silence upon your ears. Relief washed over you.

Closing your eyes, you took deep breaths. You needed to hold yourself like the grown woman you were and not cry. As the doors swung open and closed again, you turned to find Fermín, a frown etched across his face.

“Why didn't you wait for me?” his voice held a trace of anger, making you shiver. Realizing the street wasn't the place for such a conversation, you began walking towards the car, your feet aching from the high heels worn that night.

He hurried to catch up, the tension palpable. When the car alarm reached your ears, signaling it was unlocked, you opened the door and entered as quickly as you could.

Sitting there, attempting to adjust to sudden silence, you sensed his presence beside you.

Leaning back into the headrest, you brought your hands on your face.

He started talking again. “What's going on you?” you hesitated to face him, reluctant to confront those expressive brown eyes you memorized like the back of your hand.

As he insisted again to hear a response, anger got to your head. Without warning, you exploded, all the carefully restrained words meant to preserve your relationship pouring into a torrent.

“I'm just so damn exhausted! I feel like I'm invisible. I ache to be seen, to matter in your eyes again. I’ve been here, baring my soul, and it feels like you're a million miles away.” Your scream echoed, tears smudging your makeup. You saw the weight of his actions settling on him as his eyes reflected comprehension. A sob escaped your lips, he stood frozen. “I'm just asking you to hear me, to truly see me, and realize that I'm shattering inside because I've already fought too much alone for the person who I thought I would marry.”

He shook his head, a boy who had always the right words now seemed that they left their mind, leaving him defenseless. A hesitant pause filled the car.

Lips parted, but the sentences seemed to dissipate before finding form. It was as if they were navigating a maze of thoughts, searching for the right words to offer comfort or understanding, yet coming up empty-handed.

You got tired of waiting, you've been doing it for such a long time, you almost felt old. But if he just opened his mouth, you knew you would forgive him. “Let's go home.” You whispered, disappointed about a man who you were calling the love of your life.

He gripped the steering wheel and hit the road. Memories flooded back of the anecdotes shared in that white car, now slipping through your fingers like ash.

You pondered the absence of rain, almost expecting the heavens to open up. Wasn't it obligatory for the sky to weep when something magical began succumbing to rationalism?

When you arrived at the house, he finally was able to speak. “I'm so sorry for everything that I caused you.” He didn't know if physical contact would be well received from you. So he gripped even more the steering wheel, needing to make something with his hands, getting out the tension.

“What happened to us, Fer?” your heart-wrenching question hitting him. You were already talking in past tense.

There wasn't an exit for this situation, and he knew that. He wished he could build a time travel machine and make everything alright, fix the first mistake that led to this big snow ball that was making an avalanche. “I-I don't know.”

“I think I'm coming back to Sevilla.” you confessed, stepping out of the car. Your headache due to the tears that you've been letting out and your eyes were puffy.

As you stood outside the car, the quiet suburban street provided a bleak contrast to the storm raging within your emotions.

Fermín, still gripping the steering wheel, searched for words that could somehow mend the gashes that had formed between you two. The realization of the inevitable distance settled on him like a heavy cloak.

“I never meant for it to come to this,” he finally uttered, voice heavy with remorse. “I let things slip away, and I can't forgive myself for that.”

You, caught between the pain and the need for resolution, gazed at him with a mixture of sorrow and longing. The familiar surroundings of the neighborhood seemed to transform into a backdrop for the end of something significant. You already knew you were never coming back here.

In the distance, a streetlamp flickered, casting intermittent shadows on the pavement. You took a deep breath, the chill in the air stinging your lungs, and said, “Sometimes, we have to go back to move forward.”

His eyes, filled with regret, met yours. “Is there anything I can do to make things right?”

But the answer remained unsaid, it wouldn't be fair to give him instructions and keep rowing and carrying him while he was just there. Wounds were already too deep and your energy was drained.

You turned away, the distance between Sevilla and this quiet street growing smaller in comparison to the emotional gap that now separated you two.

The door creaked shut, marking the end of a chapter that perhaps, in the unfathomable depths of your heart you didn't want to admit that you anticipated it.

In the solitude of your apartment, surrounded by echoes of shared laughter and the ghost of a love that once flourished, you confronted the daunting task of rebuilding your world. The faint glow from the streetlamp outside cast a melancholic light on the remnants of what was.

Fermín, still parked, felt the shared years withering in the blink of an eye, something you had been discerning for a torturing amount of time. The engine hummed softly, an averse companion to the lingering regret in the air. As he drove away, the distance between your hearts seemed insurmountable.

You watched as Blaugrana, your Calico fluffy cat, approached you unawarely of everything surrounding her, you sat on the wooden floor with her purring next to you. The sparkle of her collar made you remember how your life was bound to be lived with Fermín forever, in that collar your initials were carved. You didn't want to fall back to this cruel reality.

You even commanded yourself to religion to save your relationship, months before. Night after night, you poured the essence of your yearning into prayers addressed to Aphrodite, beseeching her to weave the threads of love and passion back into your relationship, to restore its former glory. Each whispered plea carried the weight of your sincere desire, a desperate hope that the goddess of love might heed your call and guide your connection to the blissful days of yore.

But even that didn't work. And you realized the hug of what you thought would be a fresh start unraveled into the deceptive clarity of terminal lucidity. Now you would hear the eternal melancholic tone of the complete loss of vital signs. Forever.

[ofdetonation]

@resolutepath​​  inquired :      “maybe i don’t wanna be just friends with you.” [ kiri !! ]      ╱      idiots  to  lovers.

𝗘𝗜𝗝𝗜𝗥𝗢𝗨'𝗦  𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧  𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗦  𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛  𝗔𝗡  𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗣𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗬 .      it’s almost stupid how katsuki had never noticed it sooner      ⸺      or maybe he was too busy trying to decipher his own feelings,   trying to draw conclusions he already had,   worried he would potentially ruin what one good thing he had going for himself,   but he  should  have seen it.     were they ever able to be just friends with the way they were around each other ?      ╱      with how often katsuki would find windows in his schedule to spend time with the red-haired boy,   dedicating resources to understanding eijirou’s love for crimson riot,   even taking the time to help eijirou with his own self-care routine and hair maintenance that wouldn’t be too time-consuming …

when he had said that they’d always be friends,   so calmly and while they sat together in the confines of the blond’s room,   katsuki just didn’t think to wonder if eijirou felt the same way he did.     hope like that was  dangerous      ╱      and katsuki,   still so unsure of his feelings for other boys,   stumbling through this new part of him he wanted to repress so desperately,   he wasn’t even sure if eijirou would ever return the feelings.     but oh,   it was so fucking dumb when he looks at it now :     they were already inseparable,   practically together without them being together.     to be just friends ?

katsuki drags his hand down his face,   breathing in sharply.     shit.

❝    okay,   wait,   lemme ⸺     fuck.    ❞     he’s nervous :     it writes itself into his sudden tense look,   stumbling over his words,   trying to find the right way to respond to it without passing it off as too harsh or too casual.     the last thing he wants is to fuck this up.    (  he knows his words can come across as too much or too brash      ⸺      and eijirou,   he deserves to know exactly what katsuki is thinking,   but he isn’t sure how to approach it.     was  there a right way when it came to this ?  )     ❝    i don’t fucking know how to go about this shit,   y’know ?     not in the right way.     just my own way.    ❞

he wants to start by remedying what he was trying to say before.     it wasn’t as though he  wanted  to stay as just friends      ╱      he was operating on the premise that maybe eijirou didn’t feel the way he did.     and if it were obvious,   katsuki wasn’t sure if he could believe it,   having spent so long trying to confine his own feelings into a bottle      ⸺      like trying to capture lightning with glass,   confining fire with fire.

but how does he put it into words ?     katsuki starts to pace in panicked silence as he opens and closes his mouth,   frustration starting to embed itself into furrowed brows and slowly narrowing glare,   frown twisting to a slight snarl.     his hands sweat and he wipes the excess on his pants,   only getting more visibly annoyed when the crackle of detonations spark not long after.     nothing fits the way it should.     words were  never  his forte to begin with      ╱      would it be so reckless to better express himself in action,   to better paint the picture to eijirou by showing it rather than saying it ?     he already has a sure confession from the other.     (  and,   well,   it was still katsuki going about it in his own way.  )

fuck it.

katsuki acts on his instinct and paces over to the red-haired boy,   seizing his face with warm hands and surprisingly gentle touch      ⸺      one that doesn’t  quite  translate when the blond leans in to press a quick kiss to eijirou’s lips,   a little rough and brash and hasty.     it ignites that inner spark he would get when he would lean on the other during their documentary nights,   the same one he got when eijirou would smile,   or laugh,   or  exist      ╱      and oh my god,   he really was the fucking idiot of the two here,   wasn’t he ?     at least eijirou had drawn his conclusion well before katsuki thought of it      ⸺      it took that final push to realise that oh,   maybe,   just maybe,   he never wanted to be just friends either.

and with how the kiss makes him feel,   despite his inexperience and uncertainty,   there was at least one thing katsuki  could  be sure about :     this,   all of it,   was right.     and he’s almost certain that he can’t screw it up any more than he might’ve before.

katsuki moves back after a few seconds,   though his hands stay where they are,   and though he does his best to look as certain as he can,   the concern bleeds through      ╱      the waiting look,   the slight shake in his hands from the surge of adrenaline,   the subtle shifts in gaze to look for  any  sort of change in eijirou’s face.     (  was it enough ?     would it confirm everything eijirou needed to know ?  )

❝    maybe i never wanted to be just friends,   either.     i just …    ❞

a pause.     the words are never said,   but they’re implied :     i just never thought that you’d feel the same way,   so i decided to be a fucking idiot.

[moonstone01]

Close

Stranger Things 

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.0K

Warnings: Weed, Kissing, Eventual Smut (in part 2 of course) 

A/N: Yeah, I am obsessed with Eddie Munson. This is gonna have a part 2 cause I literally wrote this in 3 hours. 

What time is it?

You look over to your clock on the nightstand. 

“Shit…” you grumble to yourself as you realize not only is it 7:30 in the morning, but it is 7:30 in the morning on a Monday morning. You were supposed to be up an hour ago to get ready for school. To be fair, you had a long night Sunday night. A long night meaning you smoked too much and forgot about your responsibilities. So, as the responsible senior you are, you roll out of bed and try to rush through your morning routine. You decided to keep it simple today as there wasn’t anyone in particular to impress. 

At least not yet. 

You make your way out of the house after your disapproving stares from your parents. 

“Good morning, y/n” your dad says sarcastically on your way out. You flash a smile and close the door behind you. You step out into the cold air, it was almost the end of October, and Halloween was a week away. You loved the fall. The cool air, fall leaves on the ground, the refreshing feeling of nostalgia it all brought, especially Halloween. You were supposed to be attending a Halloween party this upcoming weekend, some popular kid invited you, and who are you to say no when you are provided with free drinks?

You get into your car, blasting your music as soon as the car starts up, and pull out of your driveway. 

                                              ◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

When you arrive at school and park your car. You grab your shit and head into the school, but you bump into a familiar face. Dustin Henderson. 

“Y/n! Just the woman I’ve been looking for” he smiles at you, walking in step with you as you both head for the main doors of the school.

“Yes, Dustin, how may I be of assistance to you?” you ask jokingly, giving him a slight smile. You met Dustin through Nancy Wheeler, where you then met her little brother, where you then met the curly headed boy speaking to you now. 

“Uh, yea, so you know I’m in that d&d club right? Hellfire?” 

“Yeah?” you draw out dramatically as you reach your locker and grab your necessities.

“You see, we’re kinda low on people at the moment, and we are kinda desperate for anyone to play with us tonight, and I think you’d be perf-” 

“Great, I’ll see you tonight Dustin” you interject his explanation and slam your locker shut with a dramatic smile. You do really mean that you will show up to Dustin's club tonight, but you really do want to get to class. 

Later that day, lunch came around. You usually sat with Nancy, but today she wasn’t here, so now you had to find somewhere else to sit. Your mind immediately flew to Dustin and Mike. While it wasn’t the most convenient thing to sit with two freshmen, they were your favorite freshmen. 

You spotted them walking towards a particular table and plop down in the seats on the right of the table. You begin your hasty walk towards the table and greet Dustin and Mike.

“Hey, Dustin..-Mike, do you think I could sit with you guys? Nancy isn’t here today” you ask sheepishly looking around the table because the rest of the people there might not really want you sitting with them. But, you caught eyes with the person at the head of the table. 

Eddie Munson, your weed dealer. You gave him a small smile.

“Of course, I was just telling Eddie about you y/n, since you will be joining us tonight in replacement for Gareth” he gestures to Eddie while welcoming you.

“Oh- uh, Eddie I didn’t know you were the leader of hellfire” You and Eddie didn’t have much of a relationship besides weed, but you were able to catch quite a few glimpses of him and he’s…a good looking young man. He has a wide smile, long, brown hair with bangs, and an eccentric charming personality- almost too charming. But, you weren’t sure if he was a complete ass or not, so you always kept your distance. 

“Yes, I am the leader, of hellfire” he gives an amused smile tilting his head and gesturing his hands towards his fellow club members. 

“Wait, y/n how do you know Eddie?” Mike asks with a confused look on his face. You didn’t know if you should lie or just tell him the truth. The truth being you get your weed from him. But before you could answer the confused looks at the table, Eddie answered for you. 

“We had a class together, I used to get answers from her” he nods towards you. This wasn’t entirely a lie either. 

“Yea” you smile, still standing at the other end of the table. You make eye contact with Eddie once more, as he lifts an eyebrow and looks you up and down, waiting for you to sit down. 

“Well… y/n, you can take a seat next to me” Dustin says referring to the chair to his right. Or, the chair on Eddies left. Or…Gareth's empty seat. 

“Yup” you say, realizing you were kinda just standing awkwardly at the end of the table staring around. You squeeze past Mike and Dustin and make it to the empty seat, which Eddie kicks out for you from under the table. You look at him and he’s already staring up at you with those brown eyes you’re suddenly staring at a lot today. When did this become a thing? You think and slightly blush at the attention from Eddie. 

“So, what class and level are you?” Jeff asks you from across from you. 

“Uh, I don’t know what that means” you laugh nervously. 

“It’s okay, we’ll teac-” Dustin begins to say, but is thoroughly cut off. 

“Henderson, how are we supposed to play if she doesn’t even know what a class and level are?” Eddie furrows his eyebrows at Dustin. 

“Eddie, I know- but you said anyone- remember? And y/n is a sorta close friend of mine, and like I was saying, we can teach her” Dustin explains “By the way, you were the one who said to find anyone, and y/n happens to be apart of that group” 

Eddie is quiet at this for a moment, you look around nervously at the apparent disapproval of your lack of knowledge, until he decides to speak up. 

“You have a point,” he says looking towards Dustin, then looking back at you. “You did good Henderson, but you’re in charge of teaching her the rules” 

As lunch went on, the more the group talked about tonight, the more you realized how unprepared you were this morning when you agreed to come tonight. Every now and then, Dustin would try to explain what they were talking about if it was d&d related, but it was quite difficult to understand. You would simply nod, then continue eating your lunch. You would occasionally catch Eddie looking your way, causing you to quickly avert your gaze somewhere else, anywhere else. The way he has been staring at you has been starting to make you nervous and a little bit flustered. He even set his left foot on yours for a moment and when you looked up at him he was mid-hilarious-conversation with someone else at the table and when he felt you staring, turned to you. 

“Sorry” he said while looking you over quickly with that wide smile, gliding his foot off of yours while laughing slightly. Jesus. You were beginning to think you were going crazy. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose, but still making it seem like all this is accidental. You tried to keep yourself contained for the rest of lunch. 

When it was time for the hellfire club to convene after school, you were a bit nervous to see him again. But why are you so nervous? It’s just another guy, it’s just mind games. You can play mind games too. 

As you make your way to the room where the magic happens as Dustin would say, it was so much more confusing than you could ever imagine. You were standing in the doorway, and the table in which this game takes place looks like a maze you would never get through. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas were already there. 

“Hey y/n!” Mike exclaims. 

“Hey” you wave “Oh, hey Lucas” you say almost surprised, because this little freshman was not at the lunch table. “Where were you at lunch?” you ask putting both hands on the door frame. 

“Oh, I was with my basketball friends,” he says nervously.

“Yea, he decided to sit with them instead of us- again!” Dustin chides angrily. Lucas only rolls his eyes at the comment. All of a sudden you are bumped into from behind. You both begin to fall forward when the person catches you with both hands on your waist, preventing your fall. 

“Woah- you okay there sweetheart?” he laughs so close to your ear. Of course it’s Eddie. His hands were still gripped onto your waist. You turn your head slightly to the right to look at him. 

“Uh” you laugh and look back down and move forward out of his grip, that was not easy to willingly leave. “Yea” you turn to him with your hands on your hips. He has an amused look on his face as he nods and heads towards the table. You breathe out after he has passed you. Sweetheart?! 

“Well, that was weird,” Mike mumbles to Dustin. 

“Yea. I know.”

                                            ◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

It was a close call. It was up to you and Dustin apparently to win the game. Dustin explained the numbers you needed to roll in order to win the game for them if he couldn't win. So when Dustin had rolled an eleven, it was up to you. You had the large numbered dice in your hand with the team behind your back before Eddie. The boys were yelling and shouting, very into the game. You were slowly catching onto the game but still very much confused. 

“WIN THIS Y/N” Dustin shouted in your ear, causing you to quickly let go of the dice. The dice rolled across the long table until it landed on a number.

20. 

The whole team behind you started screaming and clapping, patting you on the back. Apparently you did good. 

“Cric hit!” Lucas yelled. Apparently you did some damage with that roll. Eddie looked on in amusement at the fact you won the game for them. 

“Great job y/n, you did really well for a first timer” Eddie chuckled from across the table. 

After the exciting win for the boys, you all pour out of the school, heading to your designated rides. It was way dark outside by now. 

“Bye y/n” Dustin yelled. “I TOLD YOU EDDIE” he basically screamed behind you. You turn around to see Eddie flicking him off and smiling. You can tell he really has a soft spot for that kid. Dustin was the same way for you. 

“You must really love that kid” you retorted to Eddie behind you. 

“Yup, dontcha just wanna squeeze him till he pops” he laughs while waving at the group of kids getting picked up by Steve Harrington. 

“It’s like you're waving goodbye to your children” you bump him with your elbow. 

“If they’re anything like me, their actual parents would send them to military school.” You laugh at his comment and turn to him. 

“So, I’m gonna need an ounce” you tilt your head and smile at him, now that the kids are gone you can actually get to what you want in peace. 

“Mhm, and you’re bringing this up to me now?” he raises his brows.

“Yup” 

“Alright, I think I have it in my van” he sighs and you follow him towards the goods.

You reach the van and he climbs into the driver's seat and rummages through his glove box for the drugs as you watch from the opened door. 

“Got it” he says while quickly sitting up and closing the glove box. “Now, I have extra, wanna smoke some?” he asks mischievously. 

“In the school parking lot?” you ask seriously. 

“Uh, Yea?” he says as if its an obvious thing. You aren’t one to say no to this offer. You’d be getting to hot box in this van, plus the weed you came to pay for, and spend time with Eddie? Yea, you were down. 

“Alright I’m down” you laugh and he climbs out and opens the sliding door for you both to enter. He rolls a joint and he lights it. You both pass it back and forth until it's almost completely gone, making conversation between hits. You never would have guessed he was actually this nice and not as much as a complete ass as you were expecting him to be. He’s is actually pretty sweet, and has a great sense of humor. Just the right concoction to turn you on. 

“Can I have the roach?” you ask, eyes most likely bloodshot as your head was slightly spinning from the effect. You flash your eyelashes innocently. 

“No” he says, almost choked up from the smoke he was blowing out of his mouth. His finger almost burning from how short the joint had gotten at this point. He put it out effectively in the ashtray beside him. 

“Why not?” you say offended. 

“Because, I, Eddie Munson, am letting you smoke for free, I’m keepin the roach, sweetheart” he smiles and leans back on his elbows, making his hellfire t-shirt slightly rise up to show his lower stomach while lifting the roach up into the air in a teasing way. Metallica softly playing in the background. 

“Well, I, y/n l/n, am paying you with my company, and risking getting caught smoking weed on school grounds, therefore” you lean forward and take the roach out of his hand, but not backing away. “I should get the roach” you smirk inches away from his face, looking down at his lips back up to his eyes. You can tell he is caught off guard by the sudden action that you previously would not have made sober. But like you said, mind games. 

“Well, you do have a point” he says, placing a hand on your hip to hold you in place. Your body moves slightly forward and eyes slightly widen at the sudden action, he smirks at your reaction. Shit, mind games. You weren't going out like that, so you compose yourself and move your body to sit on his lap. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach when his other hand comes to rest on your other hip. You’re still holding onto the roach, so you do a quick shove of it in your front pocket. 

“I’m keepin it” you say, placing both arms around his shoulders tilting your head and looking down at his lips. He licks them, taking in the moment. There's a moment of silence, almost like he was thinking about something, but then he spoke. 

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” He smiles widely, not breaking eye contact. You both laugh and he moves a hand to put a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m serious though, you really are, especially when I get to have you this close” he whispers after the laughter dies down. 

You are shocked at how genuine it sounded, and it’s probably the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you, so with a clouded mind, you don’t even answer, you just lean down and go in for the kiss. His lips are soft, and you hover over him as you lightly kiss him. You smile into the kiss when he groans satisfactorily at the contact.  

He places a hand behind your head while leaning up to have more access to your lips. He starts to open mouth you, his other hand starting to grind your hip down on him. You moan slightly when you feel how hard he’s gotten from this. Just from being close to him. You revel in the feeling of him being this close, it’s like fireworks are being set off from this small interaction. 

He moves down your jaw to your neck, you’re involuntarily grinding down on him now. It’s all overwhelming and you clear your throat to prevent another moan from coming out as the friction hits your clit just right repeatedly. You’re both breathing heavily as he starts to make his way down your shoulder bone and towards your chest. Through hooded eyes however, you look at the clock on his dashboard in the front of the van. 

Shit. It’s 7:30. 

“Oh my god” you say panicked, knowing your curfew was thirty minutes ago. Eddie pulls away and looks up at you after your panicked tone. 

“What? Are you okay?”

“Eddie I have to go, my curfew was thirty minutes ago!” you tell him worried. “My parents are really strict about curfew” 

“Oh, shit” Eddie says, moving away from you and opening the van door. “You still want your weed?” He laughs at the situation. 

“Uh, yea- shit” you feel your pockets where you usually keep your money and it’s empty. “Fuck- I don’t have my money- I’ll have to get it another ti-”

“Here, just take it, and don’t even try to-”

“Eddie I can’t just-”

“No, y/n, take it, get home to your parents” he says handing the baggy of weed to you as you both exit the van. He closes the door and you both stand there awkwardly. 

Until, he leans down and kisses you deeply. You laugh as he kisses you. 

“Yea, we’ll have to do this another time” he says looking you up and down, “goodnight, sweetheart” he smiles down at you. 

“Goodnight. Eddie” you smile and turn to speed walk to your car. Jesus, your parents are gonna kill you. 

[4dtk]

a sweet bet (jaehyun)

anon: “Hey can I request innocent school boy Jaehyun with freaky bad girl y/n smut?:)” thx for requesting anon! both jae and y/n are the same age, although are around university ages. you can take it in a way that y/n takes up the dom (altho… she’s not so mean) role in this!

fem pronouns. thank u for the challenge! i don’t write fem doms that often so this was interesting to try out :)

content warnings: a bit of fem dom, sub!jaehyun, vaginal penetration, breeding (I'll never let this damn kink go), implications of pegging/strap-on, praise, like one mention of "brat"

NSFW UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI!

“aw, aren’t you such a darling?” you cooed, backing jaehyun up against the door of the classroom as his head covers most of the window on the door. you peak just over his locks to look at the dwindling number of students, most of them heading to class.

“(y/n)-ssi, i-i don’t think we should be doing this-“ jaehyun gasps when you invade his space, nose an inch from the other as his eyes struggle to focus on something.

“so now you’re backing down?” you tilt your head, challenging him. “not when your friends were betting on whether you could even get within a metre of me?”

“y’know… i don’t mind being used for bets or anything, but when someone accepts it like a champ, i expect them to carry it out like one.”

jaehyun sucks in a breath when your arm snakes around his waist, pulling his hips off the comfort of the door. you can tell he’s enjoying it even if his words say otherwise, hips pushing up to get any form of friction for his growing erection.

“proximity wasn’t your bet, right? you just wanted a piece of this pussy, huh?” jaehyun reacts strongly to your use of such a lewd word, swallowing on nothing and making the mistake of dropping his eyes to your lower half.

he timidly nods, breaths coming out short that all he can focus on is your body heat and the words of his friends resonating in his mind. he was happy to take a chance with the popular chick he shared the english literature major with, already envisioning good money that one of his richer friends promised.

why’d they pick you of all people? he wondered why he even said yes when you so clearly had no problem pinning him down. at least the other chick would take her time and beg to be fucked, presenting him with no problem since he’s had a bit of… knowledge from porn.

now, all jaehyun could compare himself to was prey caught in an unfortunate position by its predator. hell, forget about fucking anyone dumb, if anything, he was the one at your mercy.

“you want this, jeong jaehyun?” you ask nonchalantly, eyes already filled with lust at how easily he obeyed to your movements. a widen of his eyes, a bite of his underlip and a curt nod.

you smiled, “good.”

the next minutes were blurry, clouded by hot breaths and wandering hands. your lips moved against jaehyun’s like a sin, tongue slipping into the others’ mouth while he deepens the kiss as much as he can. you can feel his dick on your thighs; he’s rutting against it like a bitch, hesitant hands travelling over your body as it settles over your breasts.

“you’re a good boy, aren’t you? you don’t need to ask for permission.”

with your arms, you’re flipping the two of you over so you’re concealed from the prying eyes of curious students while jaehyun adapts to the new position. he wastes no time to draw your shirt up and bra down, latching his mouth onto your nipples and swirls them around his tongue.

you hum, palming his hardening cock that has his efforts interrupted by the needy moans he lets out. you struggle to hold your own too, his tongue sucking effortlessly while bucking into your hand. it makes you wet, soaking your underwear that you have such a cute boy at your disposal.

you waste no time to push him down to his knees once he’s done, his big doe eyes staring up at you as his hands linger at the waistband of your pants.

“go on,” you mumble breathlessly, sighing in relief when your underwear separates itself from your leaking cunt in a string of arousal, not missing the surprised noise that the other makes. it’s adorable, the way he experimentally places a finger against your slit, rubbing at it like it’s his first time. you shiver when he slips a finger in, holding onto his shoulders while you lean forward at the immense pleasure.

he could call it his first time, although i’ve definitely done it before, god! i’ve practiced making love to my pillow before finding out who was in it for the bet, he thinks. the ‘done it before’ in question only involved pillows and fleshlights, however, but god, nothing compares to the real thing. nothing compares when he can feel you react to his ministrations, thighs shaking at the way your pussy sucks in his slender finger.

“such a g..good boy- ah! can you go faster for me, jaehyun?” you cover your mouth as fast as you can to muffle your moans, grinding down on a single finger that has your face scrunched up in pleasure. he obeys immediately with a flush to his cheeks, pumping his digit at a speed even you couldn’t go at yourself. you let out a gasp when he inserts a second one without warning.

“shit- fuck!” you mewl when his fingers brush up against your clit, observing that his fingers disappearing and reappearing into you makes for an extremely appealing sight. it seems that jaehyun has the same thought, using his free hand to rub his cock that’s forming a tent in his pants. it’s painful, you can tell by the furrow of his brows, but it only fuels the knot in your stomach further.

it’s so appealing that you cum on the spot in a silent scream. your hips have a mind of their own, riding out the orgasm with quickness as your mouth spews profanities and murmurs of jaehyun’s name.

your head hits the wall in a loud thunk, breath heavy from the satisfying climax.

“you did so well, baby. need my help?”

the other’s frantic nods only makes your smile widen, gesturing for him to stand up before your hands reach forward to peel off his pants and soaked briefs. you turn him around, back against your chest when your hand reaches round to wrap around his shaft.

the immediate obscene sounds fill the room, cock hard and wet with pre-cum that jaehyun quivers at the cold air on his dick and your hasty hand that’s stroking him.

jaehyun is thrashing around in your arms, tears threatening to leak from his eyes when you swipe your thumb over his tip. his cries fill your ears like music and you can feel the crystal clear sensation of his hair digging into neck as well as the juices seeping from your pussy.

“(y/n)-ssi- hah… faster please! faster, faster!” he whimpers, head thrown back onto your shoulder. he’s moving against your hand, desperate to chase his high with mouth parted open and eyes closed, he’s there, he’s there, he feels it.

and then you stop. he whines, hips moving on their own accord to feel everything, anything.

“ah, ah, no- stop that.”

you’re turning jaehyun over again, revelling in his full length that you don’t notice his crimson cheeks and messy hair. his forehead is dotted with sweat and he manages out a cute little plea that has you humming.

“are you gonna fuck me good, now, baby?” you pout, drawing a finger down his neck, to his torso and finally resting on his cock.

the shaky breath that jaehyun releases makes you smirk, twitching from the minimal pressure you’ve used. he nods a second later, licking his lips at the dryness that’s taken over them.

“hah… t-that’s it, baby. oh my god, you’re so big…” you moan when he enters you slowly, relishing in the way your soaked cunt provides some lube as the other groans into your shoulder. your bodies are pressed up together with no space in between, the heat of your pussy already causing him to move his hips needily.

“fuck me with all you got, brat,” you spit out, prompting a particularly harsh thrust that has you jerking forward with eyes shut tight.

for someone so shy, jaehyun’s thrusts hit the spot just right, reaching so deep inside of you that you’re hunched over his person. the groans he’s making out only increases your arousal, and combined with the rush of getting caught, it was almost divine how good he’s fucking you.

it’s so divine that you forget that jaehyun was freezing up under your touch earlier, that you forget you’re supposed to be edging him with your words and hands.

“am i doing good, (y/n)-ssi?” the innocence laced within his voice ignites something inside of you, nodding incoherently that you have to give a few seconds before getting your words out.

“mhm- hm- you’re fucking me so good that i can’t even talk, baby. i think that’s- f..fuck- enough proof for you- ah!”

jaehyun basically preens at the praise, burying his face into your neck with the gentleness of a feather while his hips piston in and out of you contrastingly. the squelching noises fill the room like no other, echoing in the classroom that stretches at least two stories, and you’re so tempted to let your whimpers break free, wanting to hear it in the same space that jaehyun’s fucking you in.

“(y/n)-ssi! (y/n)-ssi, oh fuck, baby-“ the pet name slips from his mouth, his movements consisted more of chasing his orgasm rather than pleasing you, but you don’t mind with the way his breaths hit your neck and your sweat mingles with his. you’re grasping onto his shoulders you hard you’re convinced you’re going to dislocate them.

“more, more, more- i want more, (y/n)-ssi,” jaehyun choked out, fisting at your nipples in between his index and thumb. you tremble at the contact, but your hands don’t show it when you brush away the hair that’s stuck to his forehead. his eyes and nose are red, drool falling from the corners of his mouth.

“you’re doing so good, angel.” he moans with the compliment, tears now fully falling as his eyes screw shut at the way you’re clenching around his cock and the way that his balls slap against your cunt lewdly.

“‘m close, (y/n)! mmhhn-!” he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before he’s cumming deep in you, filling you up with his seed. you don’t miss the way his cock throbs inside of you as his cum continues to leak from his cock. in a second, jaehyun fucks the cum back into you, knowing you haven’t came for the second time.

“make me cum like a good boy, jaehyun,” you pant out, playing with your clit as his thrusts become sloppy yet again. he’s cumming again?

you get your answer when you feel another rush of white hot cum stuffed deep into your pussy, filling you to the brim while you reach your own orgasm. your lips let out little pants, while your eyes are fixated on the way jaehyun’s pupils dilate. it’s not long before he pulls out, your juices mixing with his seed which spills out like a bottle without a lid.

it flows down your thighs uncomfortably, but you swipe it up with a finger lingering at the edge of his lips. the other takes your digit with compliance, making a mess and slurping and slobbering all over. it sparks endless ideas in your mind.

“mhm… maybe next time i’ll let you suck on my cock, huh? then i’d fuck you dumb like what you just did to me. whatd’ya say?” the sheepish smile jaehyun gives is all the confirmation you need, even more determined to ruin him silly when he takes two more fingers into his mouth.

he would just have to collect that bet money a hundred times over, because you’d definitely fuck him that many times.

[spinchip]

The Skirt

Pairings: background jaya Wordcount: 3700 Warnings: ask to tag Summary: Zane gets caught admiring a skirt at the store, but he knows the rules. Boys aren’t allowed to wear that stuff... right?

It’s a sweet, simple sort of thing, where it lays across the mannequins thighs. It’s a high waisted skirt in pale pink, long pleats that fold nicely. It’s paired with a tight white long sleeve shirt tucked in, and a gaudy hot-pink trench coat, and a pair of beige booties. The outfit is nice- the jacket a little much for his own personal taste, but cute in it’s own way. He glances down at his own hips and back up, imagining how the skirt would look against his skin. He reaches out and touches along the bottom of it, feeling the smooth fibers, wondering not-seriously if they had it in his size- not that he would buy it. Not that he should even be thinking about buying it, or how it might look on, or how it might feel-

Nya rounds the corner of the aisle he’d lost himself in.

Zane jumps away from the fabric as if it’d bitten him, nearly knocking over a rack of expensive sunglasses, a hot flush of shame crawling up his throat. He clenches his hands at his side and tries to play it off by switching focus to a pair of aviators with black frames. He can see Nya as she wanders up in the reflection from the lenses, looking between him and the mannequin’s outfit he’d been examining, an inquisitive tilt to her lips.

“Zane? Do you… like this?” She reaches up to smooth out the pleats of the skirt, ruffled by his own hands.

“No.” He answers right away, not giving an inch. He fumbles to pick up a pair of sunglasses just to be doing something with his hands, and doesn’t say anything more. He knows he’s tense, but he can’t help it.

“I don’t know. I think it’s kinda cute.” She hums.

It’s… a trap, or something. Zane can’t figure out how she's trying to box him in, and it’s making him anxious, “You should buy it if you like it.” He tries, setting the glasses back with firm hands, tracing the frames of another pair.

“I don’t think the pink would match my complexion,” there’s a pause, then she tries, “It would look really good on you-”

“I do not like it.” He cuts her off, lacing his voice with steel, shoulders hunching. He strides away from her without glancing back, he doesn’t want to see the look on her face, he doesn’t want to know if she was laughing at him. She’d laughed at him before, in his pink apron, and she'd called him cute then too.

Her voice had been filled with cruel edged mirth, “He’d looked so cute in it!” as he retreats from their food fight, an unfamiliar feeling he’s learned was embarrassment welling up in his chest, making his processor hot. He threw that stupid apron away. He announced his hatred towards pink over and over again. He didn’t need to lose all his progress with a moment of weakness.

He did not like how it felt when his friends laughed at him.

The others are trailing around the store at their own pace, and Zane is lucky only Nya caught him- and even then, he has plausible deniability. Except now she’s lingering around him, he can see her out of the corner of his eye, so he sticks strictly to the mens section- folding a pair of jeans over his arm and a pale blue turtle-neck he thought would go with his eyes. He doesn’t even think about looking at the lavender button up at the end of the rack- he’d learned over the years. Lavender and pastel colors, they were just as bad as pink, even if it was in the mens section, or gender neutral. Sometimes he worries about the light blues he tended to favor, but any blue was okay all the time, probably. They hadn’t made fun of him yet.

He’s looking through a pile of joggers when Nya calls out, “Zane!”

She catches his attention and Jay and Cole as well, holding up a white dress from the rack. It’s a beautiful summer dress, white straps lined with lace leading into a sweetheart neckline, eye closures down the center before it breaks into a delicate and flowy trumpet skirt, “Isn’t this pretty?” She asks, smiling encouragingly.

It is. If you had asked him what kind of dress he’d like to wear, he would be thinking of this dress while he told you none at all.

She’s making fun of him.

He wilts a little, drawing in on himself, and swallows past the painful lump in his throat, “I suppose.” He grits out.

“Hey, why not ask me?” Jay pipes up, “I’m your boyfriend.”

Nya jumps, as if Jay’s presence in the conversation was a surprise.

“It is pretty,” Cole comments, squinting at it from the tank tops he’d been pawing through, “Not really your style, though.”

Nya shakes her head and opens her mouth, “No, I-” She stalls, glancing at Zane- who’s looking increasingly upset, “I was thinking about trying something new...” she trails off.

Jay meanders over, “Well, you should probably get a different size. This is way too big.” He comments, looking it over.

“Yeah… right.” Nya says, and Zane slips away from them quietly.

-

When he gets back to his room, he sets his bags from the mall on the bed and starts to pull out his new clothes. Nya had let it go, in the end, and hadn’t teased him about his slip up after the dress thing, so the rest of the trip had been nice. They’d stopped at the food court for lunch and spent some time in the skateboard shop so kai could buy some new wheels, and then an hour and a half goofing around at the arcade before they’d called it a day.

Zane folded his new pants and tucked them into the dresser, reaching blindly into his bag while thinking about what to make for dinner.

All thoughts of food vanish from his head when he pulls out the pale pink skirt he’d been admiring.

He drops it and jerks his hands back to his chest, spinning around as if to catch Nya jump out from behind a potted plant and shout aha! Caught ya! ...but no one is there. He’s alone. He approaches the offending article of clothing cautiously, digging his receipt out from his bag while already certain he won’t see the skirt listed there. Nya must have bought it and slipped it in with his things, there’s no other explanation. It’s his size. Why? Is there a… a joke here? What is Zane not getting?

He should take it back to her and let her return it, probably. He picks it up and tosses it in the trashcan next to his desk instead, and puts away the rest of his clothes with hands he makes sure don’t shake. He doesn’t entertain the idea of trying it on. Pink and lavender weren’t allowed, skirts- skirts were worse. A pink skirt… he shakes his head, hanging up a new turtle neck, and leaves the skirt behind in the darkness of his room.

Nya sits up a little straighter when he comes into the living room, “How was… putting away your clothes?” She finishes clunky, fishing for his reaction to her prank.

“Fine.” He says without breaking stride, crossing into the kitchen and plucking his plain white apron up off the hook, sliding it over his head and getting to work.

Except, even as he chops onions and serves dinner and eats with his friends, even as they play video games and watch a movie, he can’t stop thinking about the skirt. It’s there, in the back of his mind- he’d always liked skirts, thought they were pretty and sweet. He used to dream about buying nice skirts and dresses when he could afford it, different kinds for different occasions like maxi dresses and pencil skirts, but this was before he knew it was silly and laughable. Before it was wrong.

When the night finally comes to a close, and he retires back to his room, he makes a bee line for his trashcan and delicately pulls the skirt out. He sets it on his bed and pats out the wrinkles, appreciating the craftsmanship.

He locks the door and undresses, sliding the skirt over his hips. He zips it in place and takes a step towards the mirror before he hesitates, throwing off his blue hoodie and digging up a tighter white turtleneck. It’s the closest thing he has to the outfit the mannequin was wearing that he’d liked so much. He smooths down the pleats, playing with the edge- something tight and uncomfortable in his chest loosens, and he breathes easier. It’s nice. It feels… like he always thought it would.

He steps in front of the mirror. He fiddles with the cuffs of his sweater, smiling at his reflection. He looked good, the skirt fits perfectly. He poses even though it makes him feel a little immature, striking several different stances, turning around to see all the angles. He’s got the perfect set of shoes to pair with this-

He stops halfway to his closet, standing in the middle of his room wearing a skirt he loves, reality rushing back.

He takes the skirt off, pulling on a pair of pajama pants, and folds it nice and neatly. He unlocks his door and walks across the monastery to Nyas bedroom, knocking politely. There’s a long pause before he can hear her footsteps on the hardwood. The door opens and she squints at the hallway light, blinking up groggily at Zane, “Huh?” She quips eloquently.

He holds the skirt out and drops it, she fumbles to catch it, “Return it.” he tells her, “I do not want it.”

She blinks, her sleep addled mind processing before it connects, “Zane,” She shakes her head, holding it out, “It’s yours, I saw you looking at it- it’s a nice skirt, it would look nice on you.”

He refrains from saying it does. He frowns hard, he doesn’t get it- she sounds so sincere, but he knows the rules, “I do not understand the joke. Am I supposed to wear this so you may laugh at me?”

Nya looks lost, “Laugh?”

“Like my pink apron.” He explains, huddling into himself, “Except this is worse.”

Understanding lights up her face with shame and sadness, “Zane… I-”

“Return it.” He insists, pushing the skirt back towards her, and then hesitates, “Please. Do not tell the others.”

He takes a step back and nods, turning away and bidding a hasty retreat. When he gets back to his room he stubbornly refuses to think about how freeing it was, how good it felt. He stamps down any longing as he crawls into bed, and falls asleep most certainly not filled with regret.

-

The following morning, Nya slinks into the kitchen as Zane and Kai are putting together breakfast looking like a kicked puppy. She keeps throwing inconspicuous sad eyes at Zane that he’s stubbornly refusing to acknowledge, but she thankfully doesn’t let the others catch on or else she might be forced to tell them what was bothering her.

After breakfast, she offers to help Zane with the dishes, and meets his “I do not require assistance,” With polite insistence, where she ends up washing as he dries and puts them away.

It isn’t until they’re nearly done that she organizes her thought’s enough to turn to him as he puts away the final stack of plates and says, “I think you should keep the skirt.”

He feels himself grow tense, closing the cupboard slowly before he looks at her, turning around to face her and scrutinizing her expression hard. He tries to dissect her intentions, tries to figure out why she’s saying this- he knew Nya had joined in on the teasing before, but he didn’t think she would push so hard. All his previous data suggests she doesn’t have a cruel streak like this in her, but she’s been keeping the joke going hard.

He entertains the idea that she really is being sincere, but that doesn’t make sense either, because there were rules. Zane had to figure them out fast when he was younger and newly exposed to the world- You have to make eye contact when conversing with people to be respectful, asking for explanations to jokes ruins the fun, and boys should never wear girl clothes. If you broke the rules, you were weird, and people laughed at you, and they made fun of you.

“No thank you.” He says stiffly, turning away and rinsing out the sink, “I do not like it.”

She looks miserable, “I’m sorry we laughed.”

He shakes his head and doesn’t respond, the conflicting information making his head hurt, leaving her alone in the kitchen.

-

A week later, the team has another rare day off. They’d set aside the day to go to the park, and Zane was looking forward to it. He’d spent the previous day in between patrols picking up ingredients to pack the perfect picnic. Cole throws open the door to the kitchen as Zane finishes packing up his basket, hauling a large cooler behind him.

“Hey frosty!” He greets, popping the lid on the cooler and fishing out waters and juice from the fridge, “Aren’t you gonna be hot dressed like that?” He comments.

Zane glances down at his jeans and t-shirt in comparison to Cole’s tanktop and shorts combo, “I am the master of Ice.” He points out, “I don’t get hot.”

Cole concedes his point with a dip of his head, “Speaking of master of ice, can I get a little help with keeping the drinks cool?”

Zane nods, waving a hand over the cooler and packing the drinks with snow and ice. Cole thanks him as Zane hefts up his basket, the two meeting the rest of their team on the deck of the bounty. Nya perks up as they come out on deck, and steps aside so the two can see their teammates.

Jay already looks overheated, miserably melting under the sun. Lloyd seems unbothered, dressed in a sleeveless hoodie and shorts. Kai basks in the sun, smiling brilliantly, wearing a t-shirt and…

Zanes processor stutters, “Are you wearing a skirt?” He asks neutrally, blinking down at Kai’s maroon pleats.

“Yeah,” Kai glances down at the fabric, “Nya gave it to me, it doesn’t fit her anymore. Isn’t it cute?”

Zane has no idea how to respond, so Cole beats him to it, “Looks good, dude, but how are we supposed to play frisbee?”

“I got shorts on underneath so I don't accidentally flash anyone.” Kai waves his hand dismissively, and no one else comments on the wrongness of the outfit.

Tentatively, Zane says, “You… like to wear skirts?”

Kai frowns, mistaking the hesitance for judgement, “Is that a problem for you?”

Zane looks away, “Not at all.” He says, confusion making his voice stiff, missing the way the others glance at his tone of voice disapprovingly.

They go to the park, and Zane can’t stop looking at Kais skirt. He finds himself frowning at the other man more than once, shaking the confusion out of his head and trying to ignore it. Did it… really not matter that Kai was wearing a skirt? Cole had complimented him, and Jay hadn’t said anything against it either. He finds himself not joining in on the frisbee game most of the time, focusing on getting the picnic set up to hide how he was too mixed up to focus on the sport. Soon enough, the others wrap up their game and join Zane on the blanket Nya had packed.

They eat and chat idly, and Kai sighs in content after he’s finished, sitting back, “That was amazing as always, Zane!”

Zane doesn’t look at him as he puts away his own half-eaten sandwich, “Thank you.” He says simply, lost in thought.

“Zane.” Jay says, and Zane glances up at him. He startles slightly at the way Jay is looking at him, pointedly disapproving, “Why are you being so weird about Kais skirt?”

“...Why aren’t you?” Zane asks genuinely, familiar hot shame crawling up his throat as his friends frown at him.

“Dude…” Kai mutters, clearly hurt, “Not cool.”

Shame, confusion, and guilt swallow Zane up for a long moment before it’s burned up by a flash of frustration. It didn’t make sense. They’d made fun of him years ago for his pink apron, laughed him out of the room and not bothered enough to see if he was alright afterwards because he broke the rules- he gets it, he wore the wrong clothes, it’s a funny joke… So why is Kai allowed it where Zane isn’t? Why is it funny when it’s Zane? Why does he get mocked while Kai gets defended? Defended when Zane hasn’t and wouldn’t ever make fun of him for his outfit-!

He stands up abruptly, “I’m going back to the bounty.” He announces before he turns on heel and all but runs from them.

“Zane!” Nya calls, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Let him go.” Cole says firmly, and Zane clenches his eyes shut as he boards the bounty.

His stomach churns with his tumultuous thoughts and he makes a bee line for the room they have in the bounty, crawling into his bunk bed and curling into a ball. He stares miserably at the wooden walls, thinking about too many different things.

He misses his pink apron.

He didn’t think it was funny when he saw Kai in that skirt. He thought he looked nice...

Why did they laugh at him?

-

He wakes up at the sound of quiet voices, disoriented for a moment- he didn’t remember falling asleep. He makes his way out of bed slowly, the room dark, and blinks against the harsh hallway light as he steps out of their bedroom. He rubs sleep out of his optics as they adjust to the change in atmosphere, making his way to the living room.

He stops in the doorway, looking in at his friends. Kai is still wearing his skirt, laying across the recliner sideways, his legs thrown over the edge. The others are in various states around the living room, laying on the couch or the floor asa movie plays unwatched on the TV screen, the quiet sounds what lured Zane here in the first place.

Zane’s stomach plummets as he remembers the hurt look on Kai’s face at lunch. He didn’t want to make Kai feel like he did, he didn’t want him to feel laughed at, “Kai?” He says from the doorway.

The room reacts to his voice, everyone immediately sitting up to peer at him. Jay's head poked over the back of the couch along with Coles, and Nya and Lloyd craned their heads around the couch from the floor.

“Hey, Zane…” Kai says, sitting properly in the chair.

“I want to apologize.” Zane says quietly, “I really have no issue with you wearing what you like. I am sorry I acted so oddly.”

Kai fiddles with the edge of the skirt, “It’s okay… I know.” He says just as soft, “I think we all owe you an apology too.”

Zane tilts his head in confusion, stepping into the room a little more.

Jay nods, “Yeah, Zane, we’re sorry.” He says sincerely, “We acted like total jerks about your apron.”

“My apron…” Zane’s eyes flicker to Nya, who ducks her head a little at how she obviously snitched.

“Nya told us what was bothering you, and we feel really bad about it.” Cole agrees, “We were stupid and mean. There’s nothing wrong with wearing pink.”

“Or skirts.” Kai pipes up, “I’m sorry we hurt you.”

“If you want to wear that stuff,” Lloyd adds, “No one will laugh.”

Zane blinks at the way his eyes water dangerously, looking down at the floor, “It is not… wrong?”

“No.” Kai says firmly, “We were wrong, not you. Wear what makes you happy, and we’ll be on your side.”

Zane swallows and thinks about how much he’d loved the pink skirt, how pretty he’d felt with it on, “I accept your apology.” He says with a small smile, “Thank you.”

Nya grins and with a wink says, “I think i have something that belongs to you, then.” She stands, “But first… group hug?”

Smiling, Zane holds up his arms, and the others converge on him. He hugs them back tightly, smile growing wider as he sighs happily. The frustration and hurt sliding off his shoulders makes him feel so light, and a barrier he hadn’t realized he’d raised falls to pieces.

He couldn’t wait for their next off day.

-

Which comes sooner than he expects. It’s rare to get out of patrol so often, but Lloyd insisted they make up for their slightly disasterous park trip only a few days later. Ninjago is thankfully not in terrible danger, so they decide to head to Mega Monster Amusement Park for the day- and Zane is half certain Sensei Wu allows it only because he’s craving funnel cake.

They’re supposed to leave soon, and Zane is nearly ready. He slips on a pair of white boots and laces them up, standing up and admiring his outfit in his mirror. He’s got on a loose white sweater tucked into the waistband of his pink skirt, and he adjusts it one last time before nodding in satisfaction, smiling genuinely at his reflection.

He does a little twirl because he can’t help himself before he throws open the door to his room and makes his way to the deck of the bounty, smiling as the skirt bounces and flows with every step.

He’s the last to arrive, the others all waiting for him. To his pleasant surprise, there’s no flash of anxiety as he trots over- they won’t laugh. He knows they won’t.

Nya lights up when she sees him, “Zane’s here!”

Zane happiness seems to be contagious, the others all perking up at the sight of him.

“You look really nice.” Kai compliments when he gets close, and Zane smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

“Yeah, that’s a nice color on you.” Cole comments.

Jay nods in agreement, “Zane looks really good, yes! Can we go to the amusement park already?”

Zane laughs, bubbly and light, “Thank you all! Jay’s right, let us go have some fun.”

As they disembark the bounty, Zane makes eye contact with Nya, and smiles softly at her. She grins in return, bumping shoulders with him, and they catch up with the others.

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Elf got your tongue? (Legolas x Reader)

Synopsis: When your tongue gets stuck on a pole in some snowy slopes, and orcs are approaching, the Fellowship has to get a little creative to unstick you.

“What is it?” you curiously asked, staring up at a glistening pole.

Under the morning sun, the snowy slopes sparkled like diamond crust. Yourself and the Fellowship had trekked far since Rivendell, and you now found yourself climbing high in the snow.

What you did not expect, however, was to stumble across a tall, silver pole.

“It is a landmark, Y/n,” Gandalf answered. His tone was edged in both fatigue and annoyance, from his place at the front of the resting group.

“A landmark for what?” Pippin pitched in, walking up to stand beside you.

Your hands were on your hips, as you squinted up at the sky to view the entirety of the pole. You felt your palms grow clammy at the thought of the tall height, as well as the blue eyes a few feet away sneaking a glance at you.

So much for the inconspicuousness of elves, you figured.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought hard to play it cool. Although, your feelings soon won you over, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance back. When you did so, however, you caught the eye of Legolas.

He widened his eyes quickly, and cleared his throat as he looked away. You smiled at the reddening of his ears, and resisted the urge to grin giddily with a chewing of your lower lip.

“It signifies our position in the north, Peregrine Took,” Gandalf snapped again.

Pippin clamped his mouth shut, and looked up at you with a mischievous smile. You then both tried hard to not snicker at the grumpy wizard.

“Speaking of which,” Aragorn piped up, with a keen eye trained on the horizon, “it appears our efforts travelling north will not benefit us. Gandalf, would we not be better off observing our path ahead from atop the slope?”

“Perhaps…” Gandalf agreed. He ultimately sighed and began stepping up the steep incline of snow. “The rest of you wait here by the pole, whilst I scope out our path ahead. Nobody do anything foolish! Especially you three—Y/n, Meriadoc and Peregrine.”

In response, the three prematurely accused friends upheld their palms. You all shook your heads and gave promising smiles to the wizard.

He merely only growled something under his breath, before slowly tearing his eyes away and beginning his ascent.

Dropping his hands slowly, Merry leaned across to you. “Bet you won’t lick that pole.”

“Bet,” you confidently replied back.

Only one minute had passed since Gandalf had walked up the slope, and only one minute had passed since you decided to lick the pole. With one long swipe of your tongue, you were alarmed to find your flesh frozen against the pole.

Merry and Pippin thought you to be joking at first, until they caught the panic in your eyes. With Boromir, Gimli, Aragorn, Legolas, Sam and Frodo a few feet away commenting on the path ahead, and pointing out at the slopes, you and the two other hobbits tried to remove your tongue.

However, it was to no avail. You whimpered at the burning sensation in your tongue, and pushed the two boys away as they tried to pull you free. All they did was cause your tongue further pain, for it appeared no such unsticking would occur.

Legolas caught your sounds of hurt, and like a mother drawn to a baby’s cries, he threw his head over his shoulder.

“Oh my…” he attempted to say, before his sentence trailed off with a shocked widening of his eyes.

He knew instantly what kind of trouble the two hobbits had put you in, and would have laughed loudly had Aragorn not spoken up in alarm.

“Nobody panic, or make any drawing movements, but we are being tracked by a group of orcs—below the slope, a league or less behind us.”

“WHAT—” you had gone to say, but mewled instead at the stretching of your tongue.

Catching your oddly muffled voice, the five other boys turned to look over their shoulders.

“Y/n? Oh, for the LOVE OF—” Boromir went to curse, but was cut off by Aragorn instead.

The ranger flew forwards to assist you, and to assess the severity. “We cannot linger by the pole! They’ll be on us in minutes!”

You made another string of unintelligible words, but ceased quickly with a wince at the tearing of your tongue. It was stuck, and stuck good.

“We need to boil water!” Gimli proclaimed, already fetching a pot from Sam’s rucksack.

“There’s no time!” Legolas answered, eyeing off the approaching orcs.

“It’s been an honour knowing you, Y/n,” Merry joked, placing his hand solemnly on your shoulder.

He then made a move to run away towards Gandalf, but was halted by an outstretched arm from Boromir. The captain gave an unimpressed thinning of his lips, but was still looking ahead towards the orcs.

“Maybe we can pee on—” Pippin had gone to offer.

“NO!” you cut off.

“Well, how else can we boil water quickly?” Legolas asked in frustration. “It’s not as though we were born with internal heaters!”

At that, everyone went quiet. Maybe he was onto something…

The elf’s hands were on his hips, as he shook his head at the ground in thought and tapped his foot. However, upon hearing nothing from his friends, he looked up.

All eyes blinked back at him, even yours, as you stared at the prince with your tongue still out and stuck against the pole.

“WE perhaps cannot heat anything very quickly as mortals…” Aragorn alluded. “But elves have different bodily regulations.”

“What are you—oh…” Legolas began to hiss, before he came to the same realization as everyone else.

He looked at a very sheepish you next, and swallowed his nerves. Sighing and holding out his hand, Legolas motioned for Aragorn’s water cannister.

The ranger complied, and handed the lifeline over with an apologetic look thrown your way. Legolas then eyed off the canister with an apprehensive expression, but soon sighed after.

He began unscrewing the lid, before he discovered that all eyes were still on him. He narrowed his gaze and furrowed his brows, and defended himself with, “Well, I can’t do it with you all watching!”

Giving one more glance down at the running orcs, who were gaining speed, everyone but you and Legolas nodded and jogged up the slope to advise Gandalf of the incoming attack.

Left alone in the cold, and shivering for more than one reason, you tried to look everywhere but at the elf taking a long swig of water. Dropping the cannister from his lips, with a glance over his shoulder at the orcs, Legolas swished the water around in his mouth until it was warm.

Walking over nervously, Legolas kept a good few feet between the two of you. He then caught your eye and asked for consent. Sighing and nodding your head, you looked back up at him.

Nodding back, with cheeks full of warm water puffed out, Legolas, spurting like a fountain, blew a stream down to where your tongue was stuck to the pole. However, it wasn’t enough—more a trickle, really.

“That’s not going to be enough!” you tried to say—muffled once again, though.

Making a scared noise of protest, with his cheeks still mostly full, Legolas stepped in closer to you. Hesitating for a moment, Legolas lowered and lifted his head a few times, finding the whole situation very uncomfortable.

However, with the roaring of orcs nearby, he was soon reminded of the hastiness of the situation. Lowering his head to become eye level with you, and holding your fixated gaze, Legolas tentatively leaned his mouth in close to yours.

Only a few centimetres away from your stuck tongue, he began slowly pouring the warm water out from his mouth past pursed lips. Both of your faces flushed at the closeness of it all—something so similar in action to a tender kiss.

Slowly, but surely, the warm water—intertwined with good old-fashioned royal spit—thawed your tongue. Feeling it unstick, you jolted away from the pole. At the same time, Legolas quickly stood upright and swallowed the rest.

Stretching your mouth out and running your tongue all over the inside of your own mouth, fighting against the fact that you could taste him, you quickly found your words again.

“Thank you,” you forced out.

“No worries,” he replied, in just as much of an uncomfortable tone as yours.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed between you two, before the reminder of orcs dawned on you both.

“We should probably—” Legolas began, nodding over his shoulder at the awaiting Fellowship.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

With that, you both nodded at one another, before sprinting up the slope.

[cyborg-franky]

Can I have something fluffy with gn reader x Law please? <3

I WENT ABIT MAD ON THIS. Law is like my best boy. I even have Law tats haha. so writing him after so long I was very nervous. I hope you like.

Law x GN reader SFW Fluff/Angst Words: 1,558 Not proof read oops

You had always wanted to go to sea, being a pirate wasn’t exactly what you had been thinking when it came to visions of the wide-open sea, beautiful sunsets and amazing adventures. But adventures you got regardless of the unforeseen career option. Your only real complaint apart from the dangers of the job was the fact that you felt lonely, being a Straw Hat pirate was great, you loved your crew but there was no one you felt a deep connection with, not the type you’d always longed for, someone to hold your hand, share a bed with.

That was until you’d met the surgeon of death, you didn’t think someone as harsh as him would have been your type. The way he always seemed pissed off and irritated at even being around your crew, the fact he just needed your captains help and had formed a hasty alliance that every moment of every day you thought he deeply regretted the choice, that much was always clear on his face.

You were shocked he didn’t have wrinkles with how much his brows were permanently furrowed, even when the man ate at dinner with you all, the way his stern expression never left his face. Whenever you’d glance at him you always thought he would be so much more handsome if he smiled.

Just like everyone that you’d come across during this new life of yours, Law was no exception, scars of a tragic past remained on his soul. You couldn’t blame him for that and at least he wasn’t ever nasty or ill willed towards anyone. He seemed to even get along with some of the crew. The less intense members.

Thinking back to the first night you really made progress with the heart pirate you recalled how it changed the way you thought about him. It had been late into the evening, everyone settling down to their own devices.

You knocked on Chopper’s office door, opening it before you got an answer, often the small medic had issues rushing from his chair and to the door to open it so you always just stepped in. “Chopper can you look at this for me?” you asked closing the door.

“The Doctor went to bed an hour ago.”

You gripped the doorknob, that deep voice certainly didn’t belong to the sweet fluffy reindeer, you took a breath, why didn’t you just wait for a response like a nice normal and polite person? You had never been in a room alone with Law until now. Taking a breath and telling yourself that your hand wasn’t going to get any better by just going to bed.

“Oh, sorry” cradling your sore hand close to your chest your eyes darted around everywhere you could to avoid looking at him.

He was sat at the doctor’s desk, a medical textbook open, a pot of coffee at his side. His normal irritated expression however wasn’t present, his brows relaxed, his whole posture in fact looked lazy, his long legs stretched under the table, he looked comfortable in the chair, like he was on his own ship.

“I can look at it.”

“Huh?”

He turned to face you, cocking his head to the side to give you his full attention, his gaze rested on your chest, or rather the aching hand you clutched there, feeling your own beating heart as he nodded for you to come forward.

“Are you sure?” You looked at the comfy stool next to his desk, inching towards it.

Your hesitation made him laugh, actually laugh, it was such a nice sound you decided, deep but smooth, you’d never heard him make any show of amusement, he hadn’t even cracked a smile in all the time you had known him. But here he was, the very person who had the reputation of being a twisted individual, a current warlord for gods sake, the surgeon of DEATH in fact, smirking at you as you nervously sat down where he’d gestured.

“I am still a doctor you know” another chuckle as he straightened up in his seat.

“I know I don’t look like one, but my father was a doctor, I learned a great deal from him, it’s not just my devil fruit that affords me my gifts” Law explained and crossed his arms over his chest waiting for you to go on.

“Sorry, I know you shouldn’t believer every rumor that floats out at sea, if I believed everything the papers or drunks in bars said I’d think my captain was the devil but I’ve seen that man with chopsticks up his nose, I’ve seen him sleeping like a baby, he’s no devil” You knew your nerves had turned into rambling, feeling your palms sweat at being so close with the other captain but his soft chuckle, under his breath, trying to be discreet. But you’d heard it, such a nice sound you mused feeling a little more at ease around him now.

“So?”

“Well, my hand hurts, ever since I climbed down from the crows nest about three hours ago, I think I got it tangled in the ropes as I slipped a little” You explained. Law nodded his head before he held his tattooed hands out.

You held your hand out for him, he gently took it in both of his, long nimble fingers moved over your digits, feeling different parts, he was surprisingly gentle, his hands warm and welcoming. You couldn’t help but stare as he expertly examined your aching hand. You felt your gaze drift from his hands, up his arms and towards his face. His expression was like nothing you’d ever seen on the warlord. Soft. The way his tired eyes looked over your hand, he seemed happy to help, in his true element.

If not for whatever plagued him in his past, would he have been happy just being a village doctor? He seemed at peace right now. You allowed yourself to smile, your heart beating faster for an entirely different reason then when you’d set foot into the doctor’s office.

His grey eyes met yours when he pressed a certain painful part of your hand and you yelped. He clicked his tongue pressed a little harder, flexing your hand in his grasp. You bit your lip and focused on where your hands met.

“Sprain”

“H-huh?”

“You sprained your hand” He pulled his hands away and you hated how your heart dropped at the loss of contact.

“Oh..”

Law pushed his chair out and stood up, walking around the doctor’s office and looking for things, opening a few draws. You did your best to stifle any laughter from watching the very tall man try navigating his way around storage designed for a very small reindeer. It was comical.

“Avoid using it wherever you can for starters” he explained pulling out a small box and returning to the desk. “Ice will help it; you should have come to me sooner about it but” yeah, he was a doctor alright you mused as he took your hand once more. “Ice for twenty minutes every two to three hours will help with the swelling, I’m going to bandage it up right now, a compression will help support your hand while it heals, I suggest elevating it as much as possible.”

You nodded along while watching him work on your hand, he did so much damage to people, you’d seen some of the things he was capable of, he was terrifyingly powerful. But the way he held your hand still, being firm but gentle was a side you didn’t think someone who’d swapped out people’s body parts and rearranged souls for what seemed like fun could ever be capable of.

“Come to me tomorrow morning and I can re-do it if needs be” you wished he’d hold your hand longer, but he moved to get something else, a little cup which held two pills.

“For the pain”

“Thank you” You watched him pour you a glass of water and handed it you, aiming for your good hand. You gulped the medication he’d given you and drinking the water to chase it down you let out a sigh.

Law simply nodded in response to your gratitude, saying nothing more as he got comfortable in his seat once more, taking a swig of his black coffee, no wounder the man never slept, you stood from your seat and excused yourself with a small ‘goodnight’ closing the door.

Walking along the deck, just the sound of waves lapping against the ship to keep you company. You turned the corner and pressed yourself against the wall, your newly bandaged hand laid over your heart as you stared out to sea, watching the moon shimmer across the dark surface of water. You felt your lip tremble.

The feeling you’d wanted all your life, the tight feeling in your chest, the fluttering of butterflies, all-encompassing feeling and desire to be by someone’s side. You were in love. You were in love with Trafalgar Law of all people, and you knew this wouldn’t end well for you.

You bit your lip, slowly sinking to your knees on the wooden deck of the ship. You could feel tears prick your eyes. This was going to hurt, worse then never knowing what it was like to long for someone.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Pendent.

Written for a very lovely, very patient anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Bokuto/Reader (Haikyuu!!).

Word Count: 2.0k.

TW: F. Reader, Toxic Relationships, Co-Dependency, Mention of Injury, Threats of Violence, Victim-Blaming.

[Part Two]

You were better, when you were on your own.

It might’ve been because you were so used to being alone. You’d never been one for social circles, the idea of spending time with people you barely liked for any longer than you deemed acceptable, and with how often your parents moved, how many schools you’d been through, your relationships were bound to be short-lived, if they ever formed at all. You didn’t hate it. You should’ve, you had every reason to, but you didn’t. You were good with impermanence, superficial flare that would never have time to die out. You were good with what you were used to. You were better, when you got to work within the barriers you’d already grown fond of.

That might’ve been why Bokuto felt like such a dead weight. You’d had boyfriends before, both short-term flings and partners persistent enough to try to make it long-distance, but you couldn’t say any of them had care quite as strongly as Bokuto had, none of them had taken as much effort to keep happy as Bokuto had. He didn’t just want your affection. He needed your time, too, your loyalty, your attention, all the things you weren’t sure you wanted to give him, just yet. If you’d been a better person, you might’ve tried to give him what he wanted, attempted to think of him as a companion rather than an unending list of repetitive tasks, but you weren’t. You didn’t want to be. You just didn’t work well with Bokuto. That was the problem, really – the two of you just did belong together.

Well, that and he was fucking crazy, obviously, but you were beginning to think you might’ve been the only one who noticed.

Konoha certainly didn’t, at least. If he had, he wouldn’t be so aggressive, his arms crossed as he kept you trapped in an isolated corner of the courtyard, the school day over and most students long-since gone. He was standing too close, his chest nearly touching yours, but the rest of the team wasn’t any better, mingling around you in a loose half-circle. They didn’t want to be as straight-forward as Konoha, clearly. They didn’t want to live with the guilt. When they walked away from this, and they would walk away from this, they wanted to be able to minimize their role, mark it down as an act of necessity. They didn’t want to have to remember you, and you could only hope they wouldn’t give you a reason to remember them.

But, if this was going to be anything like the first time they confronted you, you doubted you’d get that lucky.

In his defense, Konoha was blunt. If he planned on wasting your time, he didn’t seem to want to waste any more of it than he absolutely had to. “We had a deal.”

It was your turn to cross your arms, now, to scowl. You weren’t as imposing as they were, not on your own, but you’d like to think you could’ve stood your ground. “It wasn’t a deal,” You started, slowly, keeping your tone calm. This wouldn’t be any easier if they thought you were as irrational as their captain. “You asked me for a something, and I gave it to you. I did you a favor. I don’t owe you anything, and I certainly don’t have to stand around being yelled at by the person I tried to help.”

Konoha opened his mouth again, his eyes already narrowed and his lips pulled into a sharp scowl, but another boy stepped forward before he could get anything out, his expression slightly more passive, albeit still concerned. It wasn’t an improvement. If anything, the genuine worry written across his face only made him easier to villainize. He was worried about Bokuto, not you. This was about Bokuto. Your feelings hardly warranted a passing thought.

“What Akinori’s trying to say,” Komi started, his name resurfacing from the dozens of hours you’d spent watching their drills, attending their practice matches, melting into Bokuto’s side after he guilted you into eating lunch with his team, rather than the other girls you were still trying to impress. If you’d been any more emotional, you could’ve hated him for it, loathed him by association. It was almost a shame that you weren’t. “Is that we just think you were a little hasty. I mean, I know we put you up to it, but…” He trailed off, purposefully, clearly hoping you’d be nice enough to cut him off. Again, it was a shame that you weren’t, and Komi went on with a sigh. “We just think the two of you made a good pair. There’s no reason to go and ruin that just because he found out.”

Your head felt fuzzy. You wanted to sit down. It was a difficult sort of discomfort, disorienting and instantaneous, but you didn’t let yourself linger on it. If you did that, you’d have to explain yourself, make your argument more sympathetic than logical. You’d have to tell them about the arguments, the way he’d kissed you, the bruises on your arm that still hadn’t faded despite your dutiful avoidance. You’d have to admit there were bruises at all, and…

That wasn’t going to happen. You already knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“Cut the shit.” It took you a moment to notice Konoha was talking, turned towards his teammates and away from you. A few months ago, you might’ve taken it as an insult, but that might’ve been Bokuto’s one silver lining – you got used to being pushed into the background, when he was around. Hell, even when he wasn’t, sometimes. “He won’t play. He hasn’t come to school in a week. He can barely get out of bed. The poor guy’s a fucking wreck.” There was a pause, something similar to a groan. He didn’t have to tell you it was your fault, not when you could practically hear him thinking it, whether or not his lips moved. “It’s sad. He’s fucking miserable. If you saw it, you’d know what I mean.”

“That’s not my problem.” It wasn’t. Bokuto could’ve hurt you. For a moment, he’d looked like he wanted to hurt you. That wasn’t something you’d forgive with a few tears and a little sulking. “I’m not responsible for him. I don’t want to be responsible for him, and I never have. If you need a babysitter, you’re going to have to look somewhere else.”

“It’ll only be for a few more months.” Like always, Washio was calm, composed, cutting in before Konoha could provide a decent rebuttal. “Just until graduation. He’ll probably be over it, by then, and you won’t have to worry about any of us.”

Until the next moody third-year decides he wants a pick-me-up, too.

“I’m not interested.” You let yourself scoff, look of to the side, pretend you had better places to be. You did have better places to be. Anywhere would be better than this, as long as it meant you didn’t have to think about him. As long as it meant you didn’t have to think about Bokuto ever again, you’d do just about anything. “You saw the way he acted, I couldn’t look at someone else without having to worry about whether or not he’d lose his shit. I wasn’t happy. Fuck, I was a second away from losing my shit. You can’t ask me to go back to that just so you can win at... what? Volleyball?.” You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stop. You didn’t want to talk about this. If you were going to spill your guts to anyone, it wasn’t going to be a dozen teenage boys who thought the only way to make their dear captain happy was to torture you, intentionally or otherwise. “If it’s only a few months, then the rest of you can wait it out. This isn’t my burden. It’s not my problem, and I don’t care enough to pretend it is.”

You didn’t want to hear his response. You didn’t want a part of this fight. You tried to walk away, to push past him, but Konoha only stiffened, catching you by the arm before you could take a full step. You flinched, going rigid as soon as you felt his fist wrap around your wrist, but if he noticed the way you drew back, if he heard the soft, panicked noise that slipped through your parted lips, he didn’t bother apologizing. If anything, into only seemed to inflate his ego further, to make him even more self-righteous. Like he was the caring friend, and you were the stone-cold bitch who was finally starting to see the weight of the situation. Like he was the one in the right. You couldn’t blame him, on that front. No one would be willing to go this far unless they really believed their own bullshit.

“I don’t think you understand.” He was speaking slowly, now. If he hadn’t made it obvious he was willing to hit back, you might’ve been tempted to smack him. “We’re not asking.”

Oh. Right. That changed things.

It was all you could do not to let your voice shake, as you forced yourself to spit something out. “And what’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

To his credit, Konoha didn’t try to make any idle threats. No, not right now, not when he was so determined to make himself the good guy. Not when it was already clear he’d convinced himself he’d do whatever he had to, as long as it was for Bokuto’s sake. “Bokuto needs this,” He said, instead, like it was all the explanation you could need. “Go back to him on your own. It’ll be easier, if you do.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you tore your eyes away from Konoha, scanning over the other athletes instead. You weren’t sure to look for, support or regret or just enough guilt to draw one or the other out, but you barely had a chance to look before your attention was drawn to a familiar face – Akaashi, standing at the edge of the group, eyes sheepishly focused on the ground. He’d been the first one you talked to, when you first transferred halfway through the year, the first person to offer to walk you home and to invite you to a game and to smile sympathetically, whenever you asked how long your ‘arrangement’ was supposed to last. You didn’t make friends, but if you did, you would’ve counted Akaashi as one. You tried not to get attached to people, but if you were any weaker, you’d be attached to Akaashi. He was a nice guy, despite the company he kept. You trusted him. Or, you would’ve liked to, at least. You could’ve, if you’d trusted yourself to.

You must’ve been staring for a second too long. By the time you thought to say something, he was already glancing up, consciously looking past you. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve thought he was embarrassed. Something near guilt, but not quite there. Empathy pulled in two different directions, but he’d already chosen one side over the other.  “I think it would be… better, if you apologized to Bokuto.” He was talking to you. That, you could be thankful for. At least he was talking to you, rather than whatever enemy the rest of his team must’ve morphed you into before deciding to go through with their little confrontation. “He loves you. You should’ve heard the way he sounded, after he found out.” He faltered, for a moment, but the display of vulnerability was short-lived. “If nothing else, he really does love you.”

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. It shouldn’t have, you were sure of that.

That didn’t mean you could stop it from hurting, though.

You didn’t believe them. You weren’t convinced. You wanted to keep going, to try to talk them down, to do anything but roll over and throw yourself into the arms of their psychopathic captain, but suddenly, your throat felt dry, and it was all you could do to stay on your feet. You felt small, smaller than you had a minute ago. You felt vulnerable, even if you knew there was nothing they could do here, on school-grounds, where any passing teacher or student could see. You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want to do this, but as you forced yourself to notice Akaashi’s careful aversion, how tightly Konoha was holding you…

You realized you might not have a choice, either way.

[hongism]

call me maybe - s. mingi 18+

day 22 of kinktober: guided masturbation - song mingi  warnings: video call sex, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, camboy mingi, client reader, cum eating, daddy kink, dirty talk wc: 1.6k genre: pwp, smut, 18+

“Touch yourself for me.” The command is spoken in a clean and crisp tone, one that compels you to obey without any hesitation. A chill takes over your whole body and surges through your veins. You snake a hand down the bare expanse of your chest. 

On any other day, you would feel embarrassed to be so exposed and on display in front of a total stranger. However, the sight of his hard and leaking cock before you makes you gain much more confidence in the show you’re putting on. Somehow you wouldn’t call Song Mingi a total stranger either — he’s a camboy you’ve been watching for several months now, so you’ve had the pleasure of seeing him in intimate and exposed positions like the one the two of you are in now, but this is a whole different level.

As his hand drags over his thick length, you release a small whimper. You want nothing more than to be able to reach through the computer screen and replace his large hard with your significantly smaller one, see the way his cock sits against your palm and makes you look even smaller. His tanned skin glows under the yellow lights of his room, causing the sheen of sweat over his chest to glimmer. Were you able to be there in person, you’re confident that you would ravish his whole body with your tongue and leave his covered in sweet love bites. Almost as though he reads your mind, Mingi hums and reaches up to tweak his nipple. It draws a deep moan from his full and swollen lips. Just as he moans, your own hand finds your sopping folds. The amount of arousal there should be embarrassing, but Mingi merely arches a brow as he looks at the display before him on his own screen.

How did you get so lucky again? Manage to win a one on one video call with your favorite camboy? Is this even real life? Surely it must be a dream because you would never dare to believe that you could have such a stroke of good luck. You must not be paying enough attention to Mingi now; he clears his throat to garner your attention – which you give to him in less than a second, mind you – and he speaks once again in that low, gravelly tone. It sends shockwaves of arousal every time you hear it, but now it feels so much more intimate having him one on one in this manner.

“I said to touch yourself for Daddy, baby girl.”

The whine that escapes you is borderline pathetic. You turn your cheek to avoid Mingi’s heated stare, although your hand doesn’t stop moving between your folds. 

“Good girl,” he praises when your fingers slip through the wetness there. “Keep touching yourself just like that for me.” 

You wouldn’t dream of disobeying him now, so you build up a steady rhythm, drawing small circles over your clit as Mingi watches on with a hawk-like gaze. He refuses to touch his twitching member for what feels like hours; instead, he settles for surveying your movements while roaming his hands across the skin of his chest. You follow each shift and shuddering muscle, letting your free hand dance up to brush over a nipple. The bud hardens under your touch. It leaves you wanting more, but Mingi lifts his chin and stops your needy touches before they can even begin. 

“Not without my permission, baby girl.” He clicks his tongue against his palate. “Bring your fingers to that pretty little cunt. I want you to fuck yourself nice and slow for me.” You do as told and push two fingers into your fluttering hole. The pressure builds between your legs, the sounds of your pleasure coming out in the wet pulses of your hand as you work yourself open before Mingi’s eyes. “Mhm, just like that. Such a pretty baby, opening yourself like that for me. Can you spread your legs a bit wider?”

“Y-Yes, Da-addy,” you stammer and press your legs further. Mingi leans closer to the camera as though by instinct, enraptured by the sight of your fingers fucking in and out of your squelching cunt.

“So, so good. I bet your walls would be so tight around my fat cock, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes, Daddy.”

“More,” Mingi commands. Your lips tremble as you push your hips forward, thrusting your fingers into yourself at a new angle in attempts to reach deeper. It’s almost too difficult for you to handle; your fingers aren’t nearly long enough for this kind of activity, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping Mingi. If anything, it causing his teasing to grow in quantity. “Aw, poor little baby. Your fingers aren’t enough, are they?”

“N-No,” you whimper before sinking your teeth into your lower lip. 

“Wish they were my long fingers instead? I bet I could fill up that tight pussy with just one.”

“P-Please,” you beg, and at this point, you aren’t even sure what you’re asking for. Mingi’s hand snakes back down to his dick. He collects a bead of precum on his index finger then brings the large digit to his lips, lapping at the wetness on the tip. Your mouth falls open without you meaning for it to, and you can almost taste his seed on your tongue. Oh, the things you would give to be under him right now. Or on top of him. You don’t care really as long as he can be here with you in person. Sadly, you have to settle for this. 

“You’re gonna cum with me, aren’t you?” He speaks it like a question, but the underlying demand is more than present. You nod like a madman, hair bobbing with the motion. Mingi gulps air down like it’s water, and his Adam’s Apple protrudes a bit more as he swallows. His head falls back, hand jerking over his thick length, and possibly the hottest moans you’ve ever heard in your life tumble from his lips. It’s a bit self-centered really, but you can’t help but to feel like you’re the one drawing such noises out of him. It causes you to moan back, wanting Mingi to know that he is having a similar effect on you as well. He seems to appreciate the gesture from what you can tell; his cock twitches weakly in his grip as your noises reach his ears. 

“I… Daddy, I’m gonna – I’m gonna cum,” you warn, thumb flicking over your sensitive bud. You twist your fingers deeper inside your cunt and try to pump them in rhythm with Mingi’s hasty jerks on his cock.

“Cum for me then, darling. Fall apart for me, knowing that I’m the one giving you this pleasure right now.” 

His words spur you to a mind-blowing orgasm. It’s the best one you’ve ever given yourself, assisted by Mingi’s grunts and sweat-stricken body. He follows close behind you. Bright white ropes of cum spurt from the head of his cock, painting his bare chest and catching on his defined muscles. Without hesitation, Mingi brings his hand up and collects the seed onto his fingers, thrusting those same fingers into his mouth a second later. He laps at his long digits until every drop of cum has disappeared behind his tongue. You can only stare on in surprise with a new curling heat in your gut. 

“Your turn,” he murmurs once he pulls his hand back. You offer a hasty nod and tug your own hand to your mouth. If you’re going to eat your own cum like this though, you want to put on an excellent show for Mingi in return for all the shows he puts on for you. Your tongue drags over each finger at a languid pace, spending extra time to swirl the wet muscle through each crevice between your fingers. Mingi watches on with a heavily lidded gaze, eyes so blown out with lust that you can hardly see his irises in the dim light. 

“All done,” you say with a certain lilt to your tone, pulling off your last finger and letting the wet pop resound. 

“Fuck, that was… you’re hot as hell,” Mingi huffs out through a laugh. 

“I guess that’s all then?” You inquire. It’s hard to conceal the disappointment in your tone, but a deal is a deal, and this is all you agreed on before starting. “I’ll see you at your next stream, I suppose.”

“I’ll be on the lookout for your name again, Miss… Y/N.” Mingi’s full lips twist into a playful smile as he leans closer to the camera. That’s the last thing you see too, because the screen goes black a second later, and you’re suddenly left all alone in your room once more. You almost think that’s it, that you’ll never hear from Mingi again and have to go back to the much less exciting activity of merely watching Mingi through his streams. Then your message box on the site dings, and you hastily click on the notification when it pops up.

Message from: fixsong_mingi99

Figured you might need my number for our next visit. Feel free to call whenever.

And there below that short and sweet message lies a phone number, inconspicuous digits showing you exactly what you wanted to hear throughout your whole call with Mingi. That he wanted you too. 

...

a/n: okay this was new and exciting and i really had a lot of fun writing it omg im surprised

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[gotnofucks]

My Little Girl

Pairing: dark!Tony stark x reader (ROYAL AU)

Summary: Prince Tony hunts you on the royal hunting trip.

Words: 6.1k

Warning: non-con, yandere, breeding kink, smut, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Why don’t we have more Tony fics?? That man is fire

MASTERLIST

Part 2   Part 3

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When you lived in a monarchy, certain hierarchies had to be followed. A king marries a queen and bears princes and princesses. Similarly, a maid marries a porter boy or servant, and bears kids who work like their parents. You were taught to follow these rules just like everyone else in the kingdom. Your parents were both servants to the king and queen, and once you were old enough you were sent to work in the palace alongside your mother too. Queen Maria Stark was a loving queen and often the soothing balm for her people who bore the stern commands of King Howard Stark. You loved to work for the queen as you got the chance to work alongside your mother and see the royal luxuries. The work was easy enough as there were so many people to help and sometimes when you did something really well you were handsomely rewarded. You took great pride in wearing the gold earbobs given to you by the queen and you stubbornly refused to let your father sell them in exchange for money.

The kingdom was a prospering and peaceful one, much more advanced than their neighbors which made the prince a very eligible bachelor. Prince Tony Stark was a handsome young man and as far as you were concerned, he was a shameless rake. You didn’t serve him directly, but you’d seen a gaggle of girls leave his chamber from time to time and the obnoxious sounds and giggling that escaped through his door made you shudder. You’d heard fellow maids mutter excitedly about spending a night with him and you flushed at how they could allow the prince to compromise them like that. What man would marry them if they got to know of their dalliances with the prince. Your parents were in the process of fixing a match for you in the baker’s family that supplied desserts to the kingdom. As a mere maid, you would be marrying above you and you shuddered to think what your future husband would say if he ever thought you had consorted with other men before marriage. With this in mind, you took special care to stay away from the prince and his lords, always praying you wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye.

You were excited today since you’d be accompanying the Queen and her ladies to their hunting trip. It was also rumored that Princess Virginia Potts - nicknamed Pepper - would also be joining the royal company. Everyone suspected that by the time this trip would be over, Prince Tony’s philandering ways would be over, and he would be engaged to Princess Pepper. Your mother who was not coming with you desperately prayed the royal match would be made, since she hoped that after their marriage your services would be availed by the princess and carry on after she took over as queen. Being a royal’s personal aid was an envied position and those servants who had that honor often had a superior sneer on their faces. Their jobs were more than simply attending to their masters during the day. They would also draw their baths, help them dress and accompany them to every royal event. These were the servants who ordered the other servants around and if you could make that position with the new princess, maybe it would be the baker’s boy who would be marrying above him.

Your mother’s instructions were very clear. Never be rude to any lord or lady and do their bidding without complaint. If you meet Princess Pepper, do your best to catch her eye and make her like you so that when she marries here, she’ll remember you and have you as her maid. More than that, stay away from every other man, be it lord or servant. You didn’t need whispers reaching home about you having a romp in the bushes with a stranger.

The path the hunting party was following was rough and you bemoaned your fate as you walked. The higher up servants travel on mules beside their masters, or in the palanquin with the royals if you were a personal aid. You prayed that Princess Pepper would like you so that in future you wouldn’t have to walk like a common maid. When it was announced that they will be pitching the tents for tonight and will continue deeper into the forest tomorrow, you almost moaned in relief. Your legs ached and your back hurt from carrying stuff on it for most of the day. The only thought you had was serving the ladies as fast as you could so that you could join the rest of the servants in your own tent and get some rest.

Once everyone was fed and you had seen to the comfort of the ladies, you made your way back to your tent that was pitched a little way away from the royals. It had taken longer than expected since every lady wanted extra mesh to keep the insects out or needed you to smoke coal in the corner of their tent to kill mosquitos. By the time you were done tending, almost everyone was in their own tents and only the night guards remained outside. Your tent finally came into your view when you passed the animals that were tied nearby. Walking past you noticed a water trough and paused. Your feet were dirty and itched and pouring a little water on them and cleaning the dried mud seemed like a good way to get better sleep. You approached the trough and lifted your skirt and with one hand splashed water on your feet. The cool water felt like heaven to you and so you poured some more. Between the water splashing and cicadas chirping around you, you didn’t hear anyone approach until their voice startled you.

“And who are you, taking water from my horse’s trough?” Came a masculine voice.

You started and turned around suddenly to the three men who stood behind you. Your movement was fast causing you to stumble on your wet feet and fall face first into the ground. You groaned in pain and three pair of feet rushed forward.

“Are you okay?”, someone asked and taking hold of your arm pulled you into a sitting position. Your breath almost stopped as you gazed into the eyes of Lord James Rhodes. Behind him stood Lord Steven Rogers and – your breath hitched – the prince himself.

“I – I am sorry to trouble you my lord. I am fine, thank you.” You stood up and Lord Rhodes removed his hand from your arm.

“What are you doing here at this time?” It was Lord Rogers who had asked you this and you turned your eyes downcast quickly. His reputation with the ladies was just as notorious as the prince’s.

“I was washing my feet, my lord.”

“You shouldn’t be out in the forest at this time girl. Do you want to be eaten by some wild animal?” Lord Rhodes admonished you and you shook under his glare. “Go back to your tent now and let everyone else know not to wander at night here. You get it?” You eagerly nodded and hoped they’ll leave so you can run back to your tent and die of shame.

Lord Rhodes shook his head and went away, and Lord Rogers followed him. The Prince however stayed and came closer to you.

“You’ve got mud on your face little girl”, and he took out a handkerchief which he dipped in the water and brought it to your face. You stood still, trembling as he wiped the dirt on your nose and cheeks. Once it was clean you slowly raised your eyes to him, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he beheld your bare face for the first time. His lips parted as he started at you and you gulped, taking a few hasty steps away. Your mother is going to whip you for embarrassing the family name by being such a silly ninny in front of the Prince.

“I’ll take your leave, your highness.” You dipped into a curtesy and turned away, ready to run.

“Wait!” Prince Tony said and you stopped, turning to face him again. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n, your highness” You hoped he would not ask your family name. What would your poor paa do if he ever learnt of your mishap.

“Y/n” The prince whispered your name. “Who are you serving currently?”

“The Queen’s ladies your highness”

Tony nodded and you finally turned away. You skipped into your tent, not even bothering to change out of your stained dress before sinking into the thin mattresses that served as your bed and pulling the sheets up to your chin. Your sleep that night was restless, nightmares of being banished from work plaguing you. Despite laying down later than everyone else, you still woke up early and cleaned your dress the best you could. Your supervisor would be about soon with your orders of the day and you had to be prepared.

“Get your asses moving, you lazy hens!” Your supervisor shouted and you cringed. She was a tall woman with a stern face and carried with her a thick stick that she used on the backsides of maids who didn’t work fast enough for her. She gave everyone their orders but when it was your turn for it, she frowned.

“You are Y/n?” She asked and you nodded fearfully. Perhaps she had heard of your stunt last night and was here to whip you.

“You make your way to the Prince’s tent. Your duty is with him until I tell you otherwise.”

Your mouth opened in shock and you gaped at her like a fish out of water.

“W – With the prince?” You squeaked and the supervisor glared at you.

“Don’t you go talking in that voice around his highness and the lords, girl! He has requested you and you are to serve him for the duration of the hunt. You get it? Now run along!”

You stumbled around the campsite and made your way to the Prince’s lavish tent. You couldn’t understand what was happening and you kept chewing on your lips nervously. Reaching the tent, you hesitated before entering. The royal’s tents were better than your quarters back home. The ground was evenly flattened and was covered with a rug. There was a soft mattress on a wooden frame, how they carried it here you didn’t know. The drapes of the tent were velvet and the sheets on the bed were silk. You looked around in awe.

“Ah good, you’re here.”

You jumped and looked at the Prince who you hadn’t noticed in the corner of the tent. You curtsied and he smiled at you. His hair was disheveled from sleep and his robe was open at the top, baring his chest. Head rose unbidden to your cheeks and you ducked your head quickly. Tony walked around the bed to come closer to you and stood in front of you.

“Will you fetch me my garments from the chest in the corner along with my riding gear?” He phrased the command like a question and you quickly nodded, rushing to get what he wanted. The Prince had requested you, but why. You took out his clothes and taking them in your hand you turned around and almost dropped them in fright. The Prince had removed his robe and stood only in his underwear, his hands on his waist with a smirk on his face.

“Well? Are you just going to stare at me, or will you come here and help me dress?”

You walked forward slowly. It was not entirely uncommon for a man to have female servants, but what he was asking you to do was done by personal aids. Those were generally of the same sex. You hesitated before holding open the prince’s tunic for him to slip his arms into. You pushed it on his shoulders and had to reach on your toes since he was so much taller than you. You quickly fastened his tunic and held out his trousers to him. He didn’t take them from you but only raised an eyebrow and you almost started crying. He wanted you to put them on him! You were sure he could see your shivering form as you helped him put one foot in and then the other. He had placed one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and the heat of it was burning you. Thankfully, he buttoned them himself and you fetched his riding cloak and belt.

“You’re very quiet, aren’t you?” Tony asked, and allowed you to don the cloak over him. You took the belt and wound it through the loops before buckling it. Your shaking hands made it difficult and Tony chuckled, his own hands stilling yours.

“You look like a scared kitten, little girl. Do I scare you?” He asked and you nervously raised your eyes to his. He was smiling, his handsome face only inches away from yours.

“No, your highness. I’ve just never done the work of a personal aid before.” Tony hummed and pulled you a little closer by your hands so that his front brushed against yours, only your clasped hands in between.

“You should get used to this now. You’ll be serving me in this capacity from now onwards.” He said. You nodded and tried to get out of his hold, but he held you tight. Your heart kept hammering in your chest and you almost fainted as the Prince started leaning down towards your face.

“Tony, what’s taking you so long?”

Lord Rogers entered the tent and stopped short as he looked at your frightened face inches away from the Prince’s annoyed one. He smirked and folded his hands against his chest. “I’m sorry your highness, did I interrupt something?” His tone was mocking, and you willed your tears away. What must they think of you?

“You have the worst timing Steve.” Tony harrumphed and released you from his hold. You staggered back from him and ducked your head. “This is Y/n, my new personal aid. She was only helping me buckle my belt”

Steve chucked and shot the prince an amused look. You had heard that the prince and lord Rogers were childhood friends, but they had to be seriously close for Steve to call him by his name and without formality. Tony quickly dismissed you then and told you to prepare for today’s journey. You were to travel with the prince’s group. You bobbed a curtesy and left, brushing against Lord Rogers who didn’t move from the entrance to give you way.

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

You were living your worst nightmare as you walked with the other servants beside the Prince’s hunting party. You were the only woman between The Prince, his two lords and half a dozen other servants. The forest got darker the deeper you went, and you kept stumbling on long weeds and catching your clothes on low hanging branches.

“Stop!”, Lord Rhodes said raising a hand and everyone came to halt. Everyone felt silent and the eerie sounds of the forest seemed to echo. The horses shuffled nervously, and you looked around for whatever it was that Lord Rhodes had seen.

“There” Whispered Lord Rogers and pointed somewhere in the distance. You couldn’t see what they saw from their mounted height, but you stepped back cautiously. What if it was a tiger? Or a bear?

The men readied their bows and arrows and The Prince took the first shot. Notching his arrow and pulling it taut, he looked utterly determined to get his prey. His eyes were dark and focused, a hunter who wouldn’t be denied anything. The arrow sailed past the trees and you heard the sickening noise of it sinking into some animal who whined. Two of the servants rushed towards the sound and a few minutes later they dragged in one of the largest moose you’d ever seen. It was meters long with horns like spread wings. The Lords cheered in appreciation and clapped the prince on his back.

“Well, seems like you got the largest one right in the beginning your highness. I doubt anyone else will bring an animal grander than this”, Lord Rogers said, and the Prince gave him a smug smile. He looked at the dead animal and then to your surprise at you. His lips twitched and you involuntarily shuddered.

“This animal is too large for just two people to handle. Tie it up and all of you take it back to the campsite. Don’t you dare let it drag on the ground. I want everyone to see it in its glory.”

As the servants got out the ropes and started tying the moose upside down to thick logs, you breathed a sigh of relief. You preferred going back to the campsite than being near the Prince and his friends. Once it was done, the men carried the beast on their shoulders and started walking. You walked behind them, trying not to bump into them.

“Y/n, where do you think you’re going?” The Prince called out and you stopped. Turning to look at him with your hands held before you, you softly spoke.

“You said all of us are to take the animal back to the campsite, your highness.”

“All of the men. Not you.”

Your panic-stricken eyes met his and you saw him grin. Looking at the other men you noticed Lord Rhodes frowning at the prince while Lord Rogers sat on his horse in absolute amusement.

“You can’t help them carry the animal anyway. Come along, we still have to make a round around the clearing before getting back before sundown.”

You followed them in a sort of trance, sweat running down your back. Whatever the Prince had planned, you wanted no part in it. You prayed that Princess Pepper would arrive soon with her entourage so that you could get away from the overbearing presence of the Prince. Walking onwards you saw you’d reached a stream and the men dismounted to allow their horses to drink. You unloaded the flask from the horse’s side and served the men before resting against a tree. You were aware of the Prince’s gaze that had not left your person for hours now. What he found so interesting you didn’t know, but you tried your best to skirt around him without bringing more attention to yourself.

“You seem tired.” The prince suddenly arrived in front of you and jolted you into a standing position. You timidly shook your head. “Yes, yes, you do seem awfully tired. You’ve been walking all this time. But you know, I am nothing if not a benevolent prince. You’ll ride with me”

Your eyes started watering and you tried to step away but the tree at your back prevented you from doing so. The Prince placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed.

“Don’t be afraid. My horse is extremely well behaved, it won’t jolt you.” He took your hand then and dragged you unwillingly to his ride. You tried to dig your legs in the ground, but he persisted. You looked at the other two lords and though Lord Rhodes had a disapproving look in his eyes, none of them said a word as Prince Tony lifted you around the waist and swung you on the horse back. You sat side straddled and before you could make a noise, he climbed up behind you and had his hand under your chest in a tight hold. You sniffled as the Prince pulled at the reins and the horse started moving. As scared of riding the animal as you were, you were more afraid of the man sitting behind you, pulling you tight against his body.

“Your highness, please. I’ll walk” You said, your voice cracking. He was too close. His front was pressed against your back and side and you were afraid to move lest you fall.

“Nonsense. As a kind ruler, why would I allow you to walk when you can ride with me, my little girl.” You felt his head dipping low and then his nose touched your head, moving slowing down until it brushed against the back of your neck. You squirmed in his hold, terrified beyond your wits for you knew there was no one who could challenge him. You felt his breath against your skin and then his lips burned a kiss on your skin making you almost jump out of his arms.

“Be still!” He ordered sternly and pulled you back harder into him. His hand slowly caressed your side before it fondled your covered breast and you finally let your tears fall.

“Please, don’t do this.” You begged and you felt him shift behind you.

“You don’t tell me what to do little girl. The moment I saw you last night, you were meant to be mine. So, shut up and stop moving. You do not want to make me angry.” His command was hissed directly in your ear and your shoulders slumped. You raised your head an inch and saw Lord Rhodes had ridden way ahead in order to avoid seeing you. Lord Rogers however was just a few paces away, his eyes leering at you and roving over your body. Prince Tony followed your gaze and clenched his jaw.

“Steve, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll avert those eyes right now. Don’t let me catch you looking at her again. She’s not to be shared. This one is mine.” He said gruffly and immediately Lord Rogers straightened and urged his horse faster to go behind Lord Rhodes.

The Prince hugged you, resting his chin on your head.

“No one else will have you. I can almost smell your innocence, its so palpable. Only I’ll have you. No one else will defile you. You’re mine. Only mine.”

You returned to the campsite in the Prince’s arms, his slow touches all over your belly and chest. He had pressed his lips on your neck and his beard had scraped against your skin. You had felt his arousal against your back, and you were mortified. You had to escape from here in the cover of the night and go back home. You will tell your parents and run away to some other kingdom.

You had asked to be let off a little away from the campsite so no one will catch you riding with the Prince. He had seemed utterly reluctant but then he let you down and allowed you to walk the rest of the way. Once there you quickly rejoined the other servants while everyone returned. You tried your best to keep yourself busy with the work and assisted others in making beds and collecting wood. You were picking off leaves from the hem of ladies’ dresses when your supervisor charged towards you puffing like an enraged bull.

“You girl! What the devil are you doing here? Didn’t I assign you to the Prince? He’s expecting you in his tent! Leave that dress and scram!” She shouted. You hid behind the dress in fear.

“Please madam, I am sick. The forest didn’t agree with me and I am afraid I’ll get sick before the prince. I cannot do him that disservice.” You said, trying to sound like you really were sick. It wasn’t very difficult since the very moment the Prince put his hands on you, you felt bile rise in you.

“Silly child! Why the hell does palace employees incompetent servants like you I don’t know! Go make yourself scarce! Don’t you dare puke on anything, or I’ll tan your hide with my stick. GO!”

You scampered away as fast as you could, offering to wash the dishes and stay out of view. You were thankful that everyone would be tired after a long day and would retire soon. You’ll pack yourself some meager supplies and run away once everyone was asleep. Come morning when they’ll realize you’re missing, you’d be home and on the run. You will not be the Prince’s plaything. Your mother would understand. She would arrange for some relative to take you in.  

You took your leave early, scarfing down some food and laying in bed so no one would disturb you. By the time the beds around you filled with other maids, they already believed you were asleep. Soon their snoring filled the tent and after waiting for some more time you crept out of your bed. You quickly tied some food and a flask in your satchel and moved out on tippy toes. The night was silent, and you gave a relived sigh because no guards were placed before the servant’s tents. Quiet as a mouse you scurried through the dark to the path you’d taken while getting here. You didn’t want to travel at night but you’d rather brave the dark than let someone ruin you.

You kept to the edge of the path, hoping that if anyone passed by, you’ll jump into the trees and hide. How did your life take this turn? You were supposed to marry a baker’s boy, maybe get the opportunity to serve the new princess. Your life was supposed to be simple. Go to work, manage your house, and husband and give him a few children every few years. Its what your mother taught you. You didn’t wear dresses that showed your bosom like some other maids, you didn’t style your hair or steal cologne from the ladies’ room. You were a good girl, keeping her virtue for her husband like you’d been taught to.

So lost were you in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the figure waiting for you in the dark. You stumbled and fell straight into the arms of the very man you were running from. The moonlight glossed over Prince Tony’s face and you gasped in fear, kicking your hands and legs that he quickly held in his own. His eyes were angry, and rage was clear on his face.

“Little girl, I was told you are sick.” He said in a dangerous voice. His hands tightened around your own while you looked at him with a sense of doom.

“Y – your highness” You whimpered, and he growled. Quicker than you could know what was happening, you were dragged into the trees and pushed against one, Prince Tony’s hands on either side of you. Caged.

“You dare to run away from me, your master, your Prince?” He said through gritted teeth, his hands curling into fists and you trembled. He took your hands in one of his and pushed them above your head, the other hand covering your mouth the moment you opened it to scream. “You going to call for help, my little girl? Who’s going to help you? Hmm?”

Silent tears trailed down your cheeks and the sparse moonlight illuminated them. The Prince breathed deeply, his eyes taking in your delicate form. Leaning down he licked those tears away and you sobbed behind his hand and closed your eyes.

“I’ll remove my hand now. If you scream, I’ll gag you with a cloth. Or would you prefer my cock?”

His vulgar words made your body shudder and heat rise in your face. You shook you head, and he slowly took his hands from your mouth and cradled your face. He kissed you hard, his lips punishing with barely suppressed anger. You struggled in his hold, but he didn’t let up, forcing you to accept his kiss. Accept him.

“You’re mine. You can’t run away from me. I’ll have you and if you dare try to escape, I’ll have you chained to my bed.” He vowed. You gave a pained cry and wiggled your wrists that were bruising in his grip. He let them go and examined them gently, a complete contrast to a moment ago. “You must remember not to make me mad. I can be kind to you. You’re my little girl.”

He kissed your abused wrists and then your fingers. Your breathing returned to normal under his gentle ministrations. He pulled you into his arms, head resting on top of yours.

“When I saw you last night, it felt as if I’d woken up from a dream. I had never seen a girl as beautiful as you. Every pore of you reflected your innocence, just waiting to be defiled by me. You were mine from that very moment. You are meant for me and I will have you. You will stay with me and bear my heirs.”

You pushed at his chest and shoulders.

“Your highness, please let me go. You are meant to marry Princess Virginia. I am just a maid.”

Tony looked at you in disapproval and one of his hand clutched your head and tilted your head so he could kiss you breathless again.

“I will marry whoever I choose to marry. You will be my princess and when I take the throne you will be my queen. You’ll rule by my side and share my bed.”

“Your Highness –”

“Your Prince!”

“My Prince, please. I am a lowly maid. I will marry the baker’s son and you will marry a princess.”

You thought you could make him see reason. You thought he would understand but the next moment you were back against the tree with a hand against your throat.

“Marry a baker’s boy?!” He thundered and you whined under his hold. “I will burn down this whole kingdom and cut open every last man who dares look at you. You are mine!” He bent to look deep into your eyes and your heart stopped. In his eyes was the same look he had when he hunted that moose. He was the hunter and you were his prey. He will not be denied.

He roughly pushed away from the tree and taking your hand hauled you towards his horse. You were too scared to fight, too scared to cry. You kept your eyes downcast and hoped lightening would strike you out of your misery. You rode back to the campsite with him, not saying a word. His hands were steel bands around you, and you thought he would never let go. Once you reached there, he got off his horse and rather than putting you on the ground carried you in his arms to his tent. Lord Rogers stood outside with a torch in his hands and perked up when he saw you both.

“Steve, I want no guards outside my tent. No one enters or interrupts me tonight.” The prince ordered and Lord Rogers nodded. He gave you a sardonic smile as the prince carried you inside, the flap shutting behind you both. Placing you down on his soft mattress Prince Tony finally let you go. He cupped your face and gazed into your eyes.

“You’ll call me Tony from now onwards. When we’re with others, it will be My Prince. Starting from this night, your whole being would be devoted to me and me alone. You will not look at any other man and if any other man looks at you, you will tell me. It that clear?” He asked you and you nodded. He smiled then, the hardness leaving his face. He kissed you slowly, letting you feel him inside your mouth. His hands traveled from your face to your shoulder and then to the buttons on your dress, undoing each. You pressed your hands against his chest and pushed and Tony pulled away with an annoyed frown.

“Little girl, are you denying your prince?”

You shook your head and looked at him pleadingly.

“My Prince” You breathed and then corrected yourself. “Tony, we cannot do this. You are a Prince, no one would dare cross you. But I will be rejected by the society for losing my virtue to a man not my husband. The King and Queen will not accept me, and I would be cast aside. I’ll be ruined.”

Tony’s eyes turned liquid and a look of utter tenderness overcame his features. He sat down next to you and took you in his lap, your head on his shoulder.

“My little girl, my princess, I would not cast you aside. Mother and father will have to accept you. They will, once I tell them you are carrying my heir.”

You wanted to curse and cry but settled for weeping in Tony’s neck. Nothing could be done now. He will have you and he aims to keep you. More than that, he wants you to be with child so that he can marry you. You will never be able to look your mother in the eyes again. You let Tony push you on your back and climb over you.

He took off your dress and helped you unlace your corset and remove your stockings. Left only in your threadbare chemise, you shivered in embarrassment. No man had ever seen you like this. You watched Tony relieve himself of his clothes and when he removed his underpants your eyes widened in shock. If he puts that thing inside you, you will die, you were sure of it. Tony chuckled at your reaction to his cock and stroked it, making it larger and harder and it seemed like you would faint.

“Don’t worry little girl, I’ll be gentle with you tonight. You’ve been a good girl, haven’t you? You’ve kept yourself for me, so I’ll be good to you in turn. It’s your first time so I won’t take your mouth, only your maidenhead. You will be mine in every way possible.”

He slotted himself between your legs and parted your thighs. Cold air hit your quim and Tony took a moment to admire you before licking a straight strip from your entrance to your nub. You trashed at the unfamiliar feeling, and Tony held you down and got to work on you. His tongue swirled in circles over your bud, making vibrations run through your body like lightening. His finger very gently probed your untouched entrance and glided in smoothly because of how wet you had gotten. He ate you out, thrusting his tongue in and out until you released in his mouth with a muffled scream. You didn’t know laying with a man would feel good. Older women often described it as a chore, but you felt like you were floating.

Kissing your thighs and your belly, Tony removed your chemise to stick his tongue in your belly button before laving it on your breasts. He fondled them and sucked your sensitive nipples, making you cry out when he bit on them.

“These will nurse our children, and after you’re done feeding them, you will nurse me.”

His words got you hot and tingles shot through your spine and settled between your legs. Taking your hands, he put them around him, kissing you deep and long and leaving bites all along your neck and chest. He lined himself him your entrance and looked into your eyes.

“Keep those eyes on me, I want to see them when I make you mine.”

He pushed in, stretching you wider and wider, every inch leaving you gasping in pain. He was careful not to rush and when after what felt like forever, he stopped, you looked in his eyes to see them blown almost black with lust. His touch was possessive, and he thrust slowly as first, letting you get used to it and to ease your pain. You let out a little moan when he brushed against your bud and he growled in triumph before he took you like a man possessed. His thrusts were harder and deeper, his balls slapping you in your ass. He kissed you wherever he could and despite how much you hated being caught in this situation, you moaned.

“I’m going to fill you up now and then again and again. I’ll fill you until you’re round with my child. I’ll fill every hole of your body with my essence until you stink of me. You will be my wife, my princess, my queen and the mother of my children.”

Pinching your bud, you came for the second time, clamping down on him and triggering his own release. You felt warmth blossom inside you with his seed and he gave a few more thrusts before stilling. Pulling out, he lay beside you and took you in his arms. He kissed your head and then your lips before resting you on his chest.

“You have been excused from all your duties as a maid. The only thing you’ll be doing from now on is me.”

[chilledberrymilk]

At first, you weren't entirely sure what you were looking at.

That was a common thing on this planet. Still, it was jarring that you still survived the crash, and were dug out by a giant wasp with anxiety. Stranger still, you were now a secretary for a Barney impersonator. And the worst bit, is that you weren't even getting paid for it.

But when you'd grumbled about it, the threat of being eaten….sexually by a giant purple spider, you'd quickly changed your tune. So yes, while working for Megatron was annoying at best, especially when most of the Predacons didn't know what boundaries were, you thought nothing else would surprise you anymore.

Oh, how wrong you were.

After the months of working for the Predacons, watching Waspinator blow up and Blackarachnia leave for a chicken-wolf; the last thing you maybe-sorta resent her for. For leaving you amongst annoying, jacked up frat boys, honestly.

But love was love, and even if Silverbolt reminded you a little bit of the Nice Guys™ on your planet, at least she was happy.

And you weren't exactly happy about the recent additions to the Preds.

Quickstrike wasn't too bad, an idiot at the best of times, but he more reminded you of a cowboy from back home.

Rampage was….a homicidal crab thing. Yeah….not going to think about that too much, especially with the tension he creates with Megatron in the throne room.

Ravage was cool, somewhat friendly; he helped lighten your load on paperwork when he was in a good mood, or when he wasn't off doing whatever he did best.

And then...there was Inferno. A fire ant that was a pyromaniac. 

And that draws you back to your original confusion in the beginning of things. Inferno. You admit, you'd thought he was a simp for Megatron, and he was, don't get you wrong. But then again Inferno was a little more ant-like in comparison to the other insect-like robots around here, and you guessed if an ant were a person; they'd most likely be a simp, too.

And while you'd thought Megatron was his Queen, you were sorely mistaken. Because here Inferno was, blue face a deeper blue, as he leered at you from where you were sitting at your desk.

He'd been doing this for a while now; giving you datapads from Megatron about something or other. Then his antenna would twitch, then his eyes would grow brighter, and then he'd deeply inhale. 

If this were anyone else (re: Tarantulas), you would have finally established an HR, just for yourself. But other than the already mentioned, Inferno would simply leer, then say something about the royalty, and then make a hasty retreat.

While that in itself wasn't weird, you found yourself starting to sweat as Inferno's one-sided staring contest went into the 10 minute mark.

"Do you need anything else, Inferno?" You politely ask, because when working with the Preds, who weren't Ravage or Waspinator, it was best to just be nice to them. Inferno jolts a touch at your words, his face jerking into a few expressions, before settling on interest. 

"The Royalty has informed me that you are the Queen of this Hive." He promptly said, "and to go to you if I had any more complaints about the structure of our Hive, and what we should be doing about making it more sound." 

What.

What.

"Uhhhh…" You say, face blank. Infernos' face pinched, but softened just a touch as he crossed his arms.

"We need to make the Hive more secure, so that the Royalty's spawn can grow safely." Inferno said slowly. As if you were daft.

'Never thought someone could get horny about building a nest…' you found yourself thinking, tilting your head to the side as you felt a headache coming.

Then it hit you. Like a freight train.

"Queen?" You say, looking down at the paperwork on your makeshift desk. If anything, you'd probably be just another worker ant in the colony. "Isn't Megatron your Queen?" You ask, laying your hands flat on your desk. Inferno seems to bristle at this, face going back to pinched. 

Then to the face he made when he thought about charring something beyond recognition.

"The Royalty is not the same as a Queen." He informed you, sharp teeth clinging. "The Queen is the mate of The Royalty." Inferno said, going on even as you blankly stare at him. "You are to be treasured, as you bring new life into the Hive." The ant finished with a pointed stare of his own at your stomach. 

Or where it would be if the desk didn't hide it.

The migraine was back, and stronger than ever as you brought a hand up to slowly rub circles to the side of your temple. "Inferno…" You slowly said. "Do you think Megatron and I are having a baby?" 

Inferno perked up, his mandibles flaring. Ah, so wrong thing to say. 

Inferno was out the door, saying something about readying a nursery. God damn it. Sighing, you eased yourself up from your desk and shuffled yourself to the 'throne room'.

You were just going to love telling Megatron that you were having his supposed young. Then again, you'd probably be getting him back for implying that you were anything other than a desk worker.

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Baking Cookies

All Brothers x gn!MC

Format - Scenarios / Headcanons

Words - 2633

Content warnings - tooth-rotting fluff, some implied sexual activity (nothing explicitly stated or described)

Prompt/Inspiration - MC bakes cookies for Mammon, AO3 request

Summary - You spend the day baking cookies and spending some quality time with your favorite demon.

AO3

Scene -

Baking was perhaps one of your favorite hobbies. For special occasions you always whipped something up for your friends and family. And everyone could always count on you to bring oodles of cookies to holiday parties.

Since being in the Devildom, however, you haven’t been able to bake anything and you were sorely missing your hobby. Finally you decided to ask Lucifer about it and he arranged to have some human realm ingredients and kitchen appliances brought in for you.

While you were getting things set up in the kitchen, you suddenly felt some arms wrap around you from behind. When you turned to see who it was you saw….

Lucifer

He pressed a kiss to your temple when you turned to look at him, smiling warmly at you

He had come to check in on things and make sure that everything had arrived in working order

You thank him for his thoughtfulness, pecking him on the cheek in return

He wants to know what you plan on making, so you tell him about your favorite cookie recipe

He gives you another kiss to your head, and then says he has to go finish some RAD related things

But he asks that you bring him a cookie when they are done

And promises to come check on you later if he gets the chance

After spending most of the day in the kitchen, you finally have all your cookies on cooling racks

You realize then that no one else has bothered you all day

The fact that Beel never made an appearance strikes you as especially odd. You had even made extra so you could make sure you still had enough for everyone else if he popped in for a snack.

Hesitant to leave your cookies unattended, you text Lucifer and tell him that you’re done and voice your concerns

He explains he had placed a small spell on the door to keep the scent of your baking contained, so your cookies will be perfectly safe for the time it takes for you to bring him a couple yourself

When you arrive in his study, he’s still working diligently, but pauses briefly when you enter to call you over to his lap

Not wanting to stop working, he asks that you give him a bite

You of course give him what he wants, and assuming he’s trying to embarrass you, make sure to maintain eye contact with him the whole time

This results in a rare blushy Lucifer moment 😍

You take a bite of the same cookie, and he comments that there is some chocolate on your lips (there isn’t)

When you go to wipe it away, he stops your hand and kisses your lips

“Here, let me get that for you.”

After he pulls away, you smirk at him and inform him he has some chocolate on his own mouth

Needless to say, he isn’t getting much work accomplished after that

And it’s entirely possible that the rest of your cookies get discovered (and consumed) while you are...busy

Mammon

He’s very curious about what you’re up to

Wants to know if he can help, he’s kinda excited about the idea of making cookies from scratch

You tell him he can stay, but he has to listen to you exactly

He agrees “Of ‘course I can handle some bakin’. How hard can it be?”

Poor, sweet summer child

To his credit, he tries, he really does

But you finally have to stick him on “fetching detail” because of the utter chaos that results when he does anything else

There is flour everywhere, vanilla extract and other liquids are spilled on the counters, he’s probably dropped a few eggs too

By the time you get the first batch in the oven, you’re pretty worn out. It reminds you of baking with a small child, honestly.

You look up at Mammon, and he doesn’t seem to be having as much fun as you would have thought

He’s noticed the mess all over the kitchen, and starts to feel self conscious about how much trouble he’s caused

But you know the best way to distract him...is by teasing him

Hopping up on the counter next to the mixing bowl, you call him over so that he’s standing between your legs. He wraps his arms around your middle and rests his head on your shoulder

You return his hug, kissing his cheek, and thanking him for the help

“I couldn’t have done it without The Great Mammon.”

You then ask him if he knows what the best part of making cookies is

He lifts his head up to look at you, curious and feeling a tiny bit better

You then scoop some cookie dough out of the bowl with your finger, and act like you’re about to offer it to him, only to put it in your own mouth instead

He blushes. Hard. Which makes you smile

You go to do it again, and this time he catches your wrist and...helps himself to the cookie dough

After that, there is a lot of laughter and giggling that can be heard from the kitchen

In the end, you only manage to make a single batch of cookies, but you wouldn’t have had it work out any other way

Leviathan

He’s resting his head on your shoulder so you can’t see his face, so you give him a quick peck on the top of his head

You honestly hadn’t expected for Levi to join you, you knew he could bake too, but he had said he was busy today with whatever otaku stuff he does when you’re not there

He mumbles something about being bored and lonely, so you ask him if he wants to help and immediately perks up and agrees

You two make a great team, and manage to get things done in record time

You and Levi sit on the ground next to each other, backs against the cabinets, playing mobile games together, while the cookies are baking and cooling

The cookies you had decided to make were sugar cookies, thinking that Levi would get a kick out of decorating them

And you would be right

You’re amazed at the level of details he’s able to draw with royal icing. They’re almost too cute to eat

He’s a mixture of proud and embarrassed as you compliment him on his cookie decorating skills

You take lots of pictures so you can post on Devilgram and brag to everyone about your amazing boyfriend

Asmodeus is probably the first one to see your posts about the cookies and he hurries to the kitchen to see them himself

Cue another round of bragging about your boyfriend and his cookie decorating skills

Poor boy is getting pretty embarrassed now, especially since he can hear the rest of his brothers coming down the hall to see what all the fuss is about

So you gather up a plate of your favorites and make a hasty retreat with Levi to his bedroom, locking the door behind you

You climb into his tub with him, sitting between his legs and reclining onto his chest, with one of his arms around your waist

He puts on some movie that he knows you both enjoy, and you eat your cookies together while relaxing

When the movie is over (and the cookies all eaten), he hugs you close and hides his face in the crook of your neck

He tells you he’s had a lot of fun today, and that it was worth missing his gaming live streams for

And that’s probably like the sweetest damn thing he’s ever said to you 💗

Satan

He immediately asks you if he can help

He loves learning, so baking with you seems like a great way to pick up a new skill

He makes for a really great helper: follows directions to a T, asks plenty of questions, precise in his measurements

He’s also really good at keeping the kitchen neat and orderly

As you prepare to put the last batch of cookies in the oven, you watch Satan start cleaning up and wonder why his room is such a mess if he can be so meticulous in other areas

Once the cookies are in the oven, you begin to help Satan tidy up

Until…

You stumble a bit and Satan catches you

But...you had been carrying a bag of flour

Now...you are not carrying a bag of flour

Satan is covered in a POOF of white and you immediately start apologizing and trying to clean him off (while trying desperately not to laugh because honestly he looks pretty ridiculous)

He picks the bag of flour up off the flour, without saying a word, then looks at you, and then the bag, and then back at you before smirking

You start to get a very bad feeling about this

Before you can even blink, Satan has grabbed a handful of flour and tossed it right in your face

A food fight of epic proportions ensues

It does not stop until Lucifer can be heard stomping down the halls

“MAMMON what have I….”

Lucifer freezes when he enters the kitchen

You and Satan also freeze

And the three of you just stare at each other

“What is going on here…?” Lucifer finally asks

“Baking cookies…?” you reply

“...baking cookies…”

Lucifer then turns and leaves as quickly as he came. He does not have the time to deal with this. And it’s you who is at fault here. He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to do. Yell? Hang you from the rafters? He decides that’s a problem for….later.

You and Satan burst out laughing as soon as Lucifer is gone

A few sweet kisses are exchanged before you decide to actually clean up

Once the cookies are out of the oven and cooling, Satan invites you to his room for a much needed shower

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

And you are very much comfortable with it

Asmodeus

He’s come to check on you and see what all your excitement from earlier had been about

You explain about the cookie recipe you were going to be working on and ask if he wants to join you

He’s more than happy to help you, and was actually hoping you’d ask

He then presents you with a set of matching aprons to wear while you work, one for him and one for you

Asmo is a pretty good helper overall, but he’s very playful too

Lots of chocolate flavored kisses, cookie dough sampling, and pats on the ass

(You’ll probably have flour handprints on your ass, make sure to give him a matching set though)

It takes a little bit longer than normal for you to finish all you had planned, but you don’t mind. You really enjoyed having Asmo there to keep you company

While you start cleaning up, Asmo says he’s going to draw a bath for you so you can get cleaned off and relax

You make sure to grab a small plate of cookies to take with you, sorting the rest into pre-portioned and labeled boxes for the others to help themselves to

When you’re done, you join him in his room and are greeted by the most divine, relaxing scent you’ve ever experienced

Asmo emerges from the bathroom, wrapped in a robe and quickly helps you undress

The two of you slip into the tub together, with you sitting between his legs as he massages your shoulders, and your scalp while he washes your hair

You didn’t realize how tense your muscles had been from hunching over the kitchen counters all day, but he makes quick work of all the knots and kinks and soon you’re feeling much better

You then swap positions so you can pamper your favorite demon as well, he of course can’t resist making all sorts of exaggerated lewd sounds while you wash his hair, which leaves you giggling/chuckling

When you’re done, he leans back against you and you drape your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, just holding him close and enjoying the soothing warmth of the water

After the bath, the two of you curl up together in his bed, taking turns feeding each other the cookies you had set aside, smiling and flirting, exchanging lots of sweet kisses

The Attic Club Sandwich (Beelzebub / Belphegor)

It’s Belphie who has his arms wrapped around you, resting his chin on your shoulder

Since Beel had sports practice today, you decided it would be the perfect opportunity to bake him some cookies as a surprise

Belphie is there to...supervise

He spends most of your baking spree clinging to you or hanging off you in some form

But he does help out occasionally when you ask him to hand you things or put stuff in the oven

You catch him sneaking chunks of cookie dough, “for quality control purposes” he says

You let it go since you’ve already planned on baking a rather large quantity to make sure Beel would get enough to satisfy himself

With the last of the cookies in the oven, you start to clean up and Belphie hoists himself on top of the counter next to the mixing bowl, helping himself to any leftover remnants of cookie dough he can scrape off

Insists he’s helping by “cleaning the dishes”

As you wait for the final batch to cool, you spend some time just cuddling your beloved bratty demon, standing in between his legs while he buries his face in the crook of your neck and holds you close

Beel arrives home around then and heads straight for the kitchen to find out what smells so good

His face lights up when he sees you and Belphie

You see Beel and greet him with a smile, walking over to give him a sample cookie

He lets you feed it to him, blushing like the adorable teddy bear he is

Satisfied that your cookies have been Beel Approved™️, you send Beel away to shower, exchanging a quick peck before he goes, and letting him know y’all will be waiting in the bedroom with the rest of the cookies when he’s done

Happy boi hurries off to take the quickest shower of his life, and you and Belphie head to the twins room

Belphie decides he can be a bit helpful and agrees to carry the rather large box of cookies for you

Which leaves your hands free to loop through his arm and walk with him

While you wait for Beel, you sit in Belphie’s bed and he snuggles up against you, his head resting on your lap and his arms wrapped around your legs

Says he doesn’t need any cookies since he ate enough while helping(?) you

He falls asleep almost instantly, baking(?) cookies is a lot of work for him

It doesn’t take long for Beel to finish washing up and join you on the bed, wearing some comfy lounge pants, wrapping his arm around your shoulders

He lets you feed him cookies for awhile, exchanging lots of sweet chocolate chip flavored kisses in between

He’s so happy and thankful that you thought of him today and prepared something special just for him, you make sure to tell him Belphie helped too and his smile gets even broader

When you start to feel tired, you rest your head on his shoulder and he polishes off the rest of the cookies on his own

Beel then presses a kiss to the top of your head, before snuggling closer to you, hugging you tight

Feeling warm, relaxed, and secure, you drift off to sleep between your two favorite demons

[qqueenofhades]

Slides on up to your inbox like the darkling in a good mood (preens with expert cape whirl). Hello your eminence. Ivan and Fedyor each meet Kirigan for the first time. Ahem. If you’re still taking prompts about those two loverender heartbirds.

I hope you don't mind if I altered your prompt slightly, since I figured that they met Kirigan for the first FIRST time as boys brought to the Little Palace. Instead, they meet Kirigan for the first time as a couple in order to ask a terrifying favor, especially since this plays nicely into my recent Thoughts about them + him.

Also on AO3 as a chapter of the better half of me.

The pair of Heartrenders come to a final halt before the tall carved doors, look them up and down, and draw identical nervous breaths. The oprichniki on guard know Ivan well, of course, though they are less used to seeing him with Fedyor – and more to the point, for the two of them to be holding hands. But they rap on the doors, call, “My lord, your visitors have arrived,” and swing them wide, permitting entrance. And in such fashion, formal keftas stiff with laundry starch, palms sweating but backs straight, they go on in.

Inside, General Kirigan is bent over an ornate table laden with charts and books, but he straightens up when he sees them. “Ah, Ivan.” His tone is both friendly – so much as Kirigan goes in for, at least – and questioning. His dark eyes flick to their clasped hands. He obviously must have an inkling of what they are here to ask him, but he arches an eyebrow nonetheless. “And – Fedyor, was it? Fedyor Kaminsky?”

“Da, moi soverennyi,” Fedyor answers formally, in Old Ravkan, though the odds that Kirigan doesn’t know the exact name and specialty of each and every Grisha in the ranks are slim-to-nonexistent. He lets go of Ivan’s hand, as if eager to be considered on his own merits and not only as the other man’s shadow. “Thank you for receiving us.”

“Of course.” Kirigan tips his head to the oprichniki, who close the doors, indicating that the General is now occupied and will not be disturbed. “Sit. Glass of kvas?”

“No, sir.” Despite the invitation, neither Ivan nor Fedyor take a seat, hands stiffly clasped behind their backs, the way they stand on parade when the tsar reviews the troops in spring. Ivan clears his throat. “Fedyor and I have come to ask your permission to…”

He’s not scared of most things. Almost none, in fact. But this is different.

He coughs.

“Permission to…” Fedyor picks up helpfully, trying to cover the moment of silence, the way the two of them have each other’s backs whether in battle or in horribly awkward conversations with their commanding officer. “To be…”

He glances back at Ivan, and Ivan takes the last of it. “To be married,” he says, as flatly and firmly as he can. Then, feeling it perhaps necessarily to specify in case this is not something Kirigan has been asked before, he adds, “To each other.”

Both of Kirigan’s eyebrows jump this time, though he doesn’t respond aloud. In theory, the Grisha are allowed to be married, but they are required to seek permission from the general first, and if he deems the liaison hasty, ill-judged, detrimental to morale, or otherwise prejudicial to the interests of the Second Army, Ravka’s most elite and feared military force, that permission can be denied. The last thing you want is lovers making too much of a stink, trying to pull special privileges or abandoning their responsibilities to the unit in favor of their partner. Then there is, of course, the added fact that Ivan and Fedyor are both men. They spent hours in the library before venturing this request, and so far, they have found nothing explicitly prohibiting two people of the same gender from being married in the formal Ravkan liturgy, but then, they didn’t exactly rush off to find a presbyter or an archimandrite and ask for detailed theological opinions. The traditionalists won’t like it, but they were never going to like it. Among the Grisha, one’s personal preferences are largely irrelevant, as long as you do your job well. And indeed, Ivan’s general nature is forbidding enough to make it unlikely that their compatriots would dare to ask, or that they even suspect. But still.

“Married,” Kirigan repeats, after a painfully long pause. “Ah.”

“With your permission,” Ivan repeats, to stress that they are doing this by the book, the exact same way he would if Fedyor was a woman. “Moi soverennyi.”

Kirigan considers them, tapping his fingers together. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Fedyor rushes, a little too eager to answer, as he steps forward, eyes blazing. Ivan feels a renewed surge of adoration for him, the way you can almost hear the heroic music swelling in the background. “I – I love him, my lord. I would die for him, and he for me.”

“That is very sweet,” Kirigan says, in the tone of a man watching a mildly interesting ballet. “I am glad to hear it. Fedyor, do you mind giving myself and Ivan a moment alone?”

Fedyor snaps his mouth shut and looks worried, but doesn’t, of course, refuse. He swallows hard, steps back, and jerks his head in a nod, touching Ivan’s hand in a brief, silent gesture of reassurance. Then he withdraws through the inner doors of the chamber, and they shut behind him, leaving Ivan and the Black General alone. They regard each other in the pale sunlight slanting through the diamonded windows, and though it runs his nerves ragged, Ivan waits for Kirigan to speak first. He braces for any question he might be asked, no matter how intrusive. If this is what it takes for this, for them, he will do it. He will. He is no traitor. He is loyal to his tsar and to his general, and he loves his country. He just loves Fedyor too.

At last, Kirigan turns away, opens a jeweled box, and removes a small dark item, curved and sharp-looking. He holds it up. “Do you know what this is, Ivan?”

“No, moi soverennyi.”

“It is an amplifier,” Kirigan says. “One that I made myself, in the oldest of the Bonesmith’s ancient arts. It comes from a claw of Morozova’s bears, killed in the deep wilderness of Tsibeya. It would be a significant addition to your own considerable power. I am prepared to make a gift of it to you, in celebration of your wedding.”

Ivan’s jaw drops, though he does his best to reel it up again and not stand there gaping like an imbecile. “To – to me, moi soverennyi?”

“Yes,” Kirigan repeats, looking amused, as if there was someone else in the chamber he could possibly be addressing. “Are you interested?”

“Yes. Of course I am.” Ivan pauses. “My lord, is there some sort of – ?”

“No catch, of course,” Kirigan says airily, as if anticipating that was Ivan’s next question. “Merely a reward for one of my most talented and loyal servants, who, it seems, has finally found happiness. I was wondering if it was even possible.”

Ivan shifts uncomfortably. “Is that so unimaginable?”

“To hear some of your colleagues talk, yes.” Kirigan still sounds amused. “No, do not apologize. I would not have you be otherwise. It is a useful talent and one that you should cultivate, which is why I offer this as a token of my esteem. If you agree, I will call David Kostyk, the Fabrikator, and have it sealed into your hand. A mark both of your wedding and your renewed loyalty to me.”

“Yes, yes. Absolutely.” Ivan almost feels relieved, when this could have been much worse. “My lord – ”

“Of course,” Kirigan goes on, as if he has not spoken, “you know perfectly well that the lives of Grisha are dangerous, especially in these times of war. If I grant my permission to this marriage, especially in contravention of established tradition, I need to know that you are also still mine, Ivan, and that you will use this gift of power in my aims and for the safety of all of Ravka. After all, you will need that power to protect Fedyor as well. So yes. I do grant my permission, so long as it comes matched with an equal promise to me. Be my good and faithful servant, and Fedyor will be yours, and always safe.”

“Yes, my lord.” When the general inclines his dark head the barest bit, Ivan goes briefly to one knee and kisses Kirigan’s offered hand. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Well then.” The general turns on a heel, cape whirling. “Shall we call David?”

“Now, my lord?”

“Were you planning on changing your mind?”

Ivan thinks of Fedyor waiting in the drawing room, probably climbing the walls with nervousness, and how he wants nothing more than to return to him and tell him that it is done, that he is not just the general’s trusted servant but his most favored confidante. “No, moi soverennyi,” he says. “Not in the least.”

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

“Does it hurt?” Fedyor slips his fingers through Ivan’s, lifting his right hand to examine the bear claw now permanently embedded in the back of it. It looks red and raw, as if still steaming from the heat of the ritual, but the curve of bone is cool under Fedyor’s fingers. It remains alien to him, but it is part of Ivan’s body now, an unbreakable symbol of the general’s trust in him, in them, and so Fedyor will learn to love it just the same. He bends his head, musing a kiss along Ivan’s bare shoulder. “It looks like it hurts.”

“Not bad,” Ivan says. “It’s a strange feeling, though. Like our usual power, but magnified, changed, more sensitive than I have ever experienced it. I could find your heartbeat across all of the Little Palace, I think.”

He raises his hand, playing his fingers experimentally, as Fedyor kisses his neck. They lie together in bed, their legs entangled, the curtains closed and the fire low, just this small, sweet oasis of solace in their dangerous and turbulent lives. Fedyor doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting to see when the door swung open and Ivan came out, clutching his right hand but wearing a triumphant expression, but this –

He is happy about it, obviously. He is thrilled. But he caught Kirigan’s eye over Ivan’s shoulder, and he read the unmistakable look there. I have given him to you, but only after I made sure to keep him for myself. It’s a dark thought, a little unsettling, and Fedyor does his best to put it out of his head. He is also a loyal soldier, he understands the logic of making sure that a powerful second-in-command does not get distracted from his primary allegiances at this delicate moment, and Kirigan did give them permission to marry. They will stand in a church together, under the gaze of all the Saints, and join their lives together the same as any other who have engaged in that sacred rite. That matters most.

Fedyor shifts, sliding halfway on top of Ivan, as Ivan wraps both arms around his waist and settles him there more firmly. They kiss and kiss until it turns to something else, a shared union in the dark, comfortable and familiar and delightful as ever. After, as Ivan dozes and Fedyor holds his bear-clawed hand, something like triumph rises up in him. He can’t help it.

You will never own him, he tells the shadows, in case their master is out there listening. Not truly. In the end, he will always belong to me.