#MOUTH FULL OF WHITE LIES / reply.

[nanaslutt]

Rivalry

synopsis: Geto and Gojo learn to share (you)

cont: fem reader, they're all 'friends', masturbation, oral (they eat you out together), making out (satosugu), competitiveness, arguing, teasing, dirty talk, choking, hand jobs, so much sexual tension it hurts

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Satoru jabs his shoulder into Suguru's not acknowledging it as he pulled your thigh over his shoulder harder, bringing your cunt more towards him. Geto felt the vein in his forehead pop out as he tsked loudly, repeating the same action Gojo had just done to him, his warm fingers digging into your other thigh as he tried and failed to pull you more towards him thanks to Satoru's iron grip. 

The duo continued giving each other painfully obvious side eyes and noises of disgust at the other. "Hey... hey- hey!!" You snapped, snapping the men out of their childish fight as their heads turned to face yours. You propped your arms behind you on the bed, looking down at them with a scowel. "Stop fucking fights, you assholes are stretching my legs too much I can feel my ligaments ripping." You said dramatically.

Your legs were spread so far apart to accommodate both obnoxiously wide and built men, you were already struggling enough, and now they were trying to pull you apart like some dog toy. "It seems like you two are more interested in yourselves than me. Maybe this wasn't a good idea." You said with a scowl, ready to end this before it even started. 

"No! no, no, we'll behave." Gojo said quickly, panic evident in his tone as he took your words seriously. "Won't we, Suguru?" The white-haired man looked over at the man next to him with a faux smile plastered on his face. Suguru's lip twitched as he forced his own smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Right, sorry pretty." He replied, pursing his lips at his best friend before he directed his eyes at you once more, his expression immediately softening. 

"Yeah?" You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked between the two of them. "You mean it? You really won't fight anymore?" You continued, a hint of malicious intent behind your tone. The boys must've picked up on it because neither of them dared to move, their faces void of emotion as they looked at you expectantly, knowing something else was coming.

"Then kiss." 

It was cartoonish the way their jaws dropped in tandem, they stayed silent as they waited for you to say 'just kidding', but it never came. "What? If you're so friendly now, what's a little kiss, hm?" You said, trying to hold back your laughter at their expressions, "Unless..." You continued, your voice tone changing to one laced with faux uncertainty, "...you guys lied? You're going to keep fighting huh? Might as well end this now in that case-" Your words got caught in your throat as Gojo turned his head toward Geto and grabbed his neck harshly, forcing their faces together as he kissed him harshly.

"Oh~" You cooed, your eyebrows raising at the unexpected action. Truthfully, you were only teasing them, but you guessed they were taking this more seriously than you thought, just how bad did they want you? "Mmm!" Geto moaned against his best friend's lips in surprise as he stilled, his lips not moving against Gojo's as he did all the work, slotting his lips against Geto's.

Suguru's hand gripped Gojo's wrist in a warning as the white-haired man's fingers dug into the sides of his neck dominatingly. There was no way Geto was going to let Satoru take charge like this. You felt yourself throb between your legs when Geto released Gojo's hand and took his slender neck in his the same way Gojo was doing to him. When he squeezed, a choked moan was released from Gojo's lips into the kiss.

He had expected Geto to fight back, but he didn't expect him to be so rough. Geto started moving his mouth against Gojo's, trying to gain control. The two of them were quite literally fighting with their lips. The kiss was full of teeth, tongue, and spit as the growled agaisnt the other's lips. Saliva was dripping down Gojo's chin from how harshly Geto was licking into his mouth as he fought Gojo's tongue for dominance.

But the stubborn blue-eyed man wasn't one to back down from a fight. He tried to ignore the throbbing he felt in his boxers as he choked Geto out while he tongued his mouth, trying to stick his tongue down the other's throat. Their eyes stayed open for the most part as they looked into the eyes of the other challengingly, only fluttering shut briefly when one squeezed the other's neck, they must both be sensitive there.

"Okay, okay. I think you guys have proved yourselves." You giggled, interrupting their kiss. They detached their lips from the other at the sound of your voice, almost like they were in a daze and your voice was the key that set them free. Both men breathed heavily with red faces and lidded eyes as they looked at the other. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" You asked, trying to ignore the intense throbbing you felt between your thighs so you could tease them a little more. 

Geto released his hand from Gojo's neck, making the other follow suit before he looked between your legs and noticed a drop of your slick was sliding down your inner thigh. Suguru smirked as he wiped up the trail of your arousal before he wiped his finger through your folds, making your body jolt in surprise as he smeared the wetness agaisnt your clit, "Yeah... guess you liked it too, huh?" He asked, smirking as he slowly rubbed your little bud with his pointer finger. 

Gojo couldn't ignore the throbbing he felt between his thighs any longer as he watched Geto rub your swollen clit. He started grinding his hips into the sheets for some relief as he gripped your thigh over his shoulder for support, taking in the sight in front of him greedily. 

"H-hey... I didn't say you could touch me yet." You spoke softly, trying to keep your voice steady as you spoke, the task proving incredibly difficult from Geto's light teasing touch. "No?" he replied, it was his turn to tease you now. "But you're begging for it down here, should I just ignore what she wants? That doesn't seem very nice." Geto spoke, referring to your cunt like it was a person. 

You stayed silent, trying to hold your moans and whines back from his ministrations. "Cmon Satoru, back me up." He said, surprising the man on his left. That kiss really had done wonders, just earlier they were fighting about who got to be closer to your cunt and now they were working together to touch you? In your heart, you knew this comradery wouldn't last long, but it was nice to see if only for a little bit. 

Satoru didn't even look Suguru's way, instead, his eyes stayed zeroed in on your pussy as he reached out and used his index and middle fingers to drag through your folds near the entrance of your pussy and scoop up some of your wetness there while Geto rubbed your clit. "Oh fuck... you're right, that kiss did more for you than it did for us, huh?" Gojo teased, rubbing circles around your tight entrance teasingly, making you think he might slip his fingers in at any moment. 

Satoru looked towards the man next to him when he laughed incredulously, clearly not a sound that was backing up his previous words, no, this laugh was directed at him. "Don't play coy, I saw how you were rutting your hips against the bed. Kissing me got your dick all stiff huh?" Geto teased, laughing at his best friend. Gojo tsked, his lips curling in a snarl. He was right though, although it wasn't all from the kiss, Gojo couldn't deny that the little interaction they shared had made him horny, maybe even made him leak in his boxers a little.

"Look who's acting all high and mighty when you're as hard as I am right now. Your lucky your laying on your stomach, I bet your boner is so fucking obvious through those thin-ass shorts." Gojo shot back, both the men's fingers on your pussy pausing as they started arguing once more. You sighed, you knew they wouldn't be able to get along for longer than five minutes.

"Do you want to kiss again?" You asked, your words immediately ceasing all arguing between the boys. Honestly, they both didn't mind the kiss, they could both agree internally the other was a good kisser and they were pretty easy on the eyes, but they would rather die than admit that out loud, hence why their big egos made them shut their mouth when you threatened them with a kiss. 

"Really? You hated it that much?" You giggled, shaking your head at their childishness. "So I guess you would really hate touching each other too, right?" Your words sent chills down their spine, but not in a negative way, in a pleasant way, which shocked them both. They had pecked on the lips as high schoolers teasingly and jerked off in the same room while watching porn together once or twice, but they had never dared to cross that line.

Their silence spoke volumes, you watched their eyes dart around the room as their faces scrunched in embarrassment. You decided to give them a break, not wanting to push them too hard, but you weren't going to give up on this so easily. "Relax, it was just a question." You said, easing the tension that had filled up the room. 

"It's not nice to tease people you know," Gojo replied, leaning in to press a kiss to your inner thigh, his hair tickling your skin. You gasped quietly in surprise, your body squirming against the sheets as he continued pressing kisses against you. "A-all you do is tease people Satoru." You replied before Geto could, effectively stopping yet another argument. Geto smirked when you took the words right out of his mouth.

"I'm older than you, you should treat your elders with respect. Picking on you builds character." He replied, making you snort. 'Elders', he wasn't even that much older than you. You were about to respond when you felt his lips kiss your pussy, right against your folds below your throbbing clit. "Did that feel good?" He asked, repeating the action, making your hands fall into his hair, carding through the strands.

Looking over to Geto you noticed his face looked more relaxed than he did seconds ago. His eyes were more lidded and his mouth was slightly open in a small o as he watched Gojo kiss your pussy, not yet using his tongue against you. It was only when you noticed his shoulder moving up and down that you realized why he looked so flushed, he was touching himself. He swallowed hard before biting his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes briefly closing as he palmed himself over his shorts for some relief. 

"Suguru... I want you to touch me too." You replied. It was so obvious he wanted to join in but didn't really know where to fit in. He was practically salivating as he watched Gojo kiss where he wanted to put his own lips. He looked up at you and gave you a lazy smile, one that made your heart skip in your chest. "Yeah? Want me to lick your pussy?" He asked, starting to lean his head closer to where you needed him.

"Hey, there's no room for you down here, go somewhere else," Gojo responded, dragging his lips down your thighs on Geto's side to emphasize his words. "Make room then," Geto responded, knocking his head against Gojo's as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your inner thigh where Gojo just did. In his head, he was erasing Gojo's kisses, such a childish thought. 

You abandoned one of your hands on Gojo's head to rest on Geto's, digging your fingers into his hair. "P-please... do something." You begged, your voice coming out needier than you were expecting. "Ohh? Were you just telling me how you didn't give me permission to touch you? Are you giving me permission now?" Gojo asked, trying to make your words all about him.

You dug your fingers deeper into his hair, you felt your annoyance much stronger with how aroused you were, you weren't in the mood to be teased by him anymore. "Yes, fuck, both of you. C'mon, hurry." You instructed, pushing both of their heads towards where you needed them the most. 

The two men were so absorbed in their own little world with you that they bumped heads when they both tried to lick your clit at the same time. "Fuck, Satoru moves your head, I wanna suck her clit." Geto growled, knocking his head against his once more, on purpose this time. "No, you move, that's what I was going to do." Gojo shot back, his face flushed with his arousal and need to touch you.

You sighed, staying quiet this time as you wanted to see where this fight took them. Maybe they were able to figure something out without your interference, but if they couldn't, you would have to step in and fix their attitudes. 

"You're so annoying, get your own ideas," Geto responded, shoving Gojo's head harshly against your thigh, successfully pushing him out of the way so he could latch onto your clit. You gasped when you felt the plushness of his lips around your neglected bud, your back arching at the stimulation. Gojo snarled as he watched Geto get the first real taste of you, but he couldn't deny the harsh twitch of his cock in his boxers when he caught a glimpse of Geto's soft tongue poking out between his lip as he caressed your clit with it.

Gojo decided he was going to do what he wanted to do anyway, and in the process, make Geto so uncomfortable that he let Gojo take his current place in sucking your clit. His next actions had your pussy clenching around nothing. Gojo leaned in and tilted his head at an angle before sticking his tongue out and forcing his tongue under Geto's to poke at your clit.

Geto had felt Gojo's soft hair tickle the side of his face when he leaned in, but he figured the man was going to suck you lower or tongue fuck you, not make out with him while trying to lick your clit. Surugu's eyes cracked open in disbelief but not once did he cease his tongue's movements agaisnt you. Gojo moaned against your pussy with a smile on his face as he rubbed your clit with his soft tongue.

"O-oh fuck" You moaned, your back arching and legs threatening to snap in on their heads as they ate you out together. Geto's first instinct was to fight Gojo with his tongue but he realized that might hurt you in the process, and this was about making you feel good, not about his own personal grievances. 

Sighing, he tilted his head at an angle like Gojo's and released his lips from around your clit, opting to just stick his tongue out and bat the little bud with his tongue. Gojo huffed out a laugh at Geto's compromise, feeling like he had one somehow, even though he was doing the same thing Geto was.

"K-keep doing that!" You praised, realizing the men had calmed down a bit and were now slowly starting to figure out that working together can be better than working alone. "F-feels so good when you g-guys do that." Your head tipped back against the sheets as you whined their names freely, your nails digging against both of their scalps.

The longer they ran their tongues over your folds and occasionally licked each other, the more the tension dissipated and turned into a more carnal sense of need for pleasure. Gojo started trying to intentionally follow where Geto's tongue was, not only to increase the pleasure you were feeling but because it felt good to touch his tongue to Geto's. It felt forbidden, which made his whole body feel hot. 

Geto quickly caught on. At first, they were licking at your clit together, then they fell into a sort of rhythm where one of them tongued near your entrance while the other licked your clit, alternating like that. But now, they were trying to be in the same place at once, and it was heightening Geto's sensitivity.

The way no one was saying anything about it either made them feel even hotter like they were pretending nothing weird was happening. "I'm so hard." Gojo mumbled needily into your pussy, getting a coo of his name from you followed by a "Touch yourself for me." And touch himself he did. 

Geto had paused on touching himself when he started licking you, focusing more on what his tongue was doing than his hand. Once he watched Gojo sneak his hand under his body to jerk himself off in the tight space of his crotch being pressed against the bed, he started rubbing himself too. He had pushed his own arousal to the side, but from the taste of your cunt, your noises, and the constant push and pull from Gojo, he could no longer contain himself once Gojo stopped holding back.

"Mmm... fuck... I- I wanna fuck you so bad." Gojo whined against you, his voice sending vibrations through your pussy. Geto's face heat up at Gojo's words. He slowly slipped his fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers when his arousal grew too much. Suguru always was a whore for dirty talk. "Y-your fingers, fuck me with your fingers-" You cried, humping your hips towards their faces.

When Gojo detached his lips from your pussy to get a good look at your tight little hole, Geto took the opportunity to suckle your clit back into his mouth now that he had it all to himself. "So sweet, so fucking sweet." He mumbled, squeezing his hand around his cock harder when he felt your little bud throb in his mouth. Gojo bit his lip and quickened his strokes on himself as he started humping his hand like a fleshlight, the slide eased by how wet he was from all the pre-cum he had been leaking. 

"Geto stop for a second, I can't see," Gojo said, his voice abandoned of any real malice and instead replaced with raw need. Geto obliged, pulling his lips away from you begrudgingly, he parted your folds with his fingers for Gojo while the white-haired man rubbed two thick fingers agaisnt your tight entrance, teasing you. "You're being so nice to me now." Gojo giggled, looking over at his best friend who was holding you open for him. 

"Shut up and finger her so I can go back to eating her out." Geto deflected, ignoring the fact that Gojo was right, he was becoming too pussydrunk to fight with Gojo like before. Gojo giggled as he started to press his fingers into you, breaching your tight hole. "Satoru!!" You cried, making him bite his lip as he penetrated you fully, his fingers sliding inside you to the hilt with ease thanks to your wetness. 

"You're so fucking tight baby... fuckkk I can only imagine how well this pretty pussy takes cock." He fantasized, making his own, and Geto's cock twitch at the mental image. With lidded eyes, Gojo started slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of you before he looked to Geto, "Go ahead, she's all yours." he said with a smirk.

Geto wasted no time in sucking your clit back into his mouth, shaking his head agaisnt you as he abused you little bud. Your head was going fuzzy, the way Gojo was curling his fingers into your gspot was making you cant your hips against Geto's mouth, forcing his tongue to rub you harder. "W-wait, wait, I think I'm gonna cum-" You cried, your arms shaking from the intensity of the building orgasm.

"Yeahhh? Gonna cum all over my fingers? Let Suguru lick up your cum?" He cooed, smirking at you. Gojo's cock throbbed against the sheets when he released his hand from his cock and placed it over yours atop Geto's head, shoving him harder into your cunt. Geto moaned in surprise but internally groaned as he knew Gojo was most definitely smearing his precum all over his pretty hair.

"C'monn, you're doing the heavy lifting here," Gojo spoke to Geto who was now furiously sucking your clit, alternating between the latter motion and flattening his tongue against you and rubbing back and forth. Each time his tongue accidentally touched the base of Gojo's fingers when he pulled them out of you, and he got a taste of your wetness from the inside, his eyes rolling back in his head. How was it possible for someone to taste so sweet?

"Shit- wait- fuck I'm r-really cumming-" You cried, feeling a ball of something more intense well up in your tummy. Your words made Geto groan loudly against you, the sound coming out muffled from how hard he was pressed agaisnt you. Geto was focusing more on his tip now as he tried to bring himself to the brink of orgasm with you, but the tight space in which he was pressed against the sheets was making it hard for him to get the proper stimulation.

"Let it out, we got you baby we got you." Gojo cooed, speaking for the both of them as you rode Geto's face and his fingers. Gojo's jaw dropped with your own as your body stilled and you came. Only this wasn't like one of your regular orgasms. A warm feeling spread throughout your whole body as you came, the tight bundle in your tummy had snapped and you squirted all over Geto's hungry tongue.

Gojo moaned loudly as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm, groaning through his teeth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head as he opened his mouth and tried to drink up as much of your wetness as he could. You could barely hear Gojo's whistle as your orgasm clouded all of your senses. You shook and writhed agaisnt the sheets as the boys worked you through possibly one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever had. 

"O-oh-" Your stomach clenched and your body jerked in on yourself as your orgasm ended and you were thrown into overstimulation when Geto continued eating you out, too pussydrunk on you to realize you had already finished. "Easyyy~" Gojo said softly, gripping Geto's hair harshly as he yanked him up and away from you. The man was breathing heavily, his face flushed red and covered with your cum as he was pulled away.

The bed sheets and your thighs were stained wet with your cum. You had no time to be embarrassed though as the only thing on your mind was getting the boys to cum too. "C-come here." You said softly, releasing their head simultaneously and nodding at them to get closer. Gojo moved quicker than Geto, who seemed to still be in a daze as they rose from their place between your thighs, your legs falling against the bed limply.

Once they were both sitting on their heels by your chest, looking at you expectantly, you stuck out your hands in an O shape. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what you were wanting from them. You gave both men a fucked out smile as they hastily worked on pulling their erect cocks out of their pants. Geto held his cock out over your chest, stroking it slowly as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and an open mouth, it clearly wasn't going to take much to get him to cum. 

Looking over at Gojo, he was already fitting his cock in your weak O-shaped hand, waiting for you to jerk him off. "C'mon... you wanna touch us right?" He asked, trying to mask his need with that teasing voice of his. You smiled softly before you took both of their cocks in your soft hands and began stroking them off together, keeping the same pace and speed for both of them.

"H-hahh..." Both of their moans were mingling and tangling together, you couldn't tell who's belonged to whom. Geto was staring at your hand in a trance as you jerked him off. His mouth fluttered open like a fish out of water, his breathing coming out stuttered and uneven, you knew he was close. Gojo on the other hand, was entranced with the slick that was dripping down Geto's chin.

He licked his lips before he made a split-second decision to taste it. They had already crossed so many unspoken boundaries today, what was one more? Leaning forward, Gojo placed his hand on the back of Geto's neck and pulled his unsuspecting face toward him. Suguru's breath caught in his lungs when he felt Gojo's tongue collect the cum from his neck and chin, the white-haired man making a path from the bottom of his face to his lips, before he connected them together like before, this time of their own volition.

"Fuck.." You cursed, your face heating up as you watched the men's tongues tangle with each other. "You guys are so fucking hot." Geto groaned at your words, both of his hands wrapping around the back of Gojo's neck as he kept him against his face, relishing in how good his best friend's tongue felt against his. "I'm so close baby, keep going- f-fuck." Gojo groaned against Geto's lips, his fingers caressing the other's neck harder as his orgasm approached.

The sounds coming from their lips were so vulgar, combined with their desperate moans it was making your cunt throb. "God... m-my tip, focus on my tip," Geto instructed, starting to thrust his hips into your hand, aiding you in pleasuring him. "Your tip is sensitive?" Gojo asked, pulling away from Geto's lips to whisper against them. "I remember that when we jerked off before, you didn't notice it but I was watching you. Watching how squirmy you got when you touched yourself there." Gojo teased, working Geto up with his words.

"Ohooo, this is interesting." You giggled, feeling the men drip steady streams of pre-cum over your hand, making the vulgar squelching noises echo louder in the room. "S-shut the fuck up, S-Satoru-" Gojo spit back, averting his eyes from his bestfriend. Gojo let Geto pull his head back, their hands dropping from each other as they became seconds from cumming.

"God... god your hand feels so good princess, I-I'm gonna cum-" Geto whined, his eyes finding yours as his face scrunched in pleasure. "Cum for me Suguru, wanna watch you when you cum." You replied, making him groan loudly as his cock throbbed in your hand. "Heyyy~ You're making me feel left out," Gojo whined childishly, his hands wrapped around your smaller one that held his cock before he started thrusting into it, squeezing your hand tighter around him.

You looked over at him and shook your head as if the two men didn't just make out on top of you while you jerked them off. Your gaze was swiftly corrected by Geto's hand that gripped your chin, making you look at him. "S-said you wanted to watch me cum." He moaned, his voice breathy and high-pitched. "W-watch- f-fuck fuck fuck-" Long hot ropes of cum spilled from his cock and all over your chest, which was covered by one of Gojo's old band tee's. Something told you after today though, he wouldn't mind his shirt covered in Geto's cum.

"Good boy, fuck. You're so pretty Suguru." You praised, keeping your eyes on his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his orgasm wracked through his body, his abs clenching and his body spasming with his high. The only warning you got from Gojo was an obnoxiously loud moan before he was cumming. He grit curses through his teeth as he used your hand to milk his cock.

His cum was thinner than Geto's, but there was more of it, and his cum shot further when most of Geto's just spilled over your fingers. Geto groaned in annoyance when a rope of Satoru's cum landed on his thigh as Suguru twitched in the aftershocks of his orgasm. "So tighttt~" Gojo moaned, smiling through his orgasm as he squeezed his hands tighter over yours, almost painfully so.

"Ugh... fucking gross, you got your cum all over me Satoru." Were the first words spilling from Geto's mouth when he fully came down. Gojo wrung out his cock using your fist as he pulled it out of the makeshift pussy, making sure he gave you all of his cum. "Oh shut up, just grab a tissue you big baby." Gojo spat back, leaving his softening cock hanging out as he laid down beside you, putting his arm behind you, against the pillow you were laying on.

"No, you get me a tissue." He spat back, laying on your other side as he leaned slightly over your body to curse at the man next to you, his arm siding under your shoulders as he squinted at Gojo. "Hah???? I'm not your maid, get it yourself." Gojo retorted, looking at the man incredulously. You gave up on looking between them or trying to stop them for that matter.

You just layed there comfortably, your smaller body being squished and smothered by two large men who fought for your touch while simultaneously screaming at each other over a cum rag. You heaved a dramatic sigh, which both of them failed to catch, of course. You thought a little intimate time would bring them closer together but clearly, you were wrong. 

———————————————————————

Bonus: At some point, Geto gave in and went to the bathroom to grab Gojo a tissue, leaving Gojo to take the opportunity to grab your body and pull you on top of him, wrapping his arms and legs around you like a koala. You shook your head, sighing as you knew this would only lead to another fight. When Geto stepped into the room once more, he was met by an annoyingly smug, Gojo face, making his vein pop out on his forehead. "Oh, you bitch." He growled, marching toward the bed.

You ended up falling asleep that night quite literally crushed between two large, muscly, hot, sweaty men. If you didn't die overnight from axphixiation, that would be a miracle. Honestly, though, you were just glad they had stopped fighting, so if that meant you had to die by suffocation? So be it.

[annwrites]

—tell me i'm your national anthem

red, white, blue is in the sky. summer's in the air & baby, heaven's in your eyes. — yandere!homelander x collegestudent!reader ; ･:*✎✩

tw: breast-feeding, oedipus complex, controlling relationship

↳ read

John tightens his arms around your waist, his head resting comfortably atop your soft stomach as you run your fingers through his blond hair, humming him to sleep.

Then he breaks the silence. "You don't think I'm weak. Do you?"

"Of course not," you reply quietly.

His left hand tightens around your hip—so hard that it causes you to wince in pain, your fingers beginning to tremble.

"And you'd never leave me," he states with a tone of certainty.

"I'm right here," you say—a mere whisper—shooshing him.

He sits up then, leaning over you, smiling softly as his left hand trails up your chest, wrapping gently around your throat.

"Because if you ever did—think of leaving, that is—whoever you tried to move on with..."

He flashes a broad, toothy grin, shrugging playfully. "We'll, I’d just fucking kill him. I’d kill any man that looked at, or touched you, y'know?" He says in a sarcastic tone, his brow twitching as he tries to play off what he's just said as something casual.

But you know he means it.

He always means it...

You swallow nervously, his hold tightening.

"Because we belong together. I mean, you belong to me. You're my property."

You stare up at him with wide eyes, and his smile slowly begins to fade.

You nod then, your heart pounding rapidly, terrified of what may happen if you instead continue to lie there dumbly and without response.

He suddenly releases his hold, chuckling. "That's my good girl. Besides, once I got done taking care of business, you'd have nowhere else to go."

He leans down, brushing a kiss over your lips, then moving closer to your ear. "I’d make sure that I’d be the only thing you had left to run to," he says—his tone slightly threatening. "In all the fuckin' world."

He pauses. "Because I am your world."

He then lies back down, turning you on your side so he can press his face between your breasts, his eyes slowly closing as he cuddles against you.

"You can keep singing," he mumbles, now content, smiling softly to himself.

You sigh in irritation, removing the tea kettle from the burner and turning it off, ready to head toward the nursery.

John looks at you from over the back of the couch with a raised brow. "What's wrong?"

You slide your hand beneath your protruding belly, glancing down to your breasts, then up to him. "They're full. I’m going to pump. I’ll be right back."

He shoots up from his seat. "Let me help."

You pause, and he shifts nervously on his feet—he hadn't mean to just blurt it out like that, but it's also not as if you're not aware of him...enjoying it. He’d sucked on your breasts so much, even when he'd only just started coming to see you, that you'd been forced to regularly buy nipple cream.

He’d been waiting eagerly for this day: when you first began to lactate. He’s unsure that he's ever anticipated anything more.

He’ll have his own personal supply always ready and waiting for him now. Whether straight from his wife's breasts, or in bottles waiting for him in the fridge once he gets home.

From what he understands, so long as a woman keeps nursing, she'll continue to produce.

And he doesn’t intend for you to stop nursing him. Ever.

You turn around.

"C'mere," he says with a wave of his hand.

You pad over to him.

He nods toward the couch, and you seat yourself.

He takes his usual position then—already erect—his body spread out, head in your lap, your hand sliding comfortably underneath it.

You tug your shirt up, revealing your swollen breasts, and he swallows thickly—already salivating at the sight of them.

You take one in your other hand and he opens his mouth. You ease your nipple in and he begins to gently suck, his eyes fluttering closed, his left arm winding around your waist—pressed between you and the back of the sofa.

It’s late, and all is silent in your home, minus the sound of your husband nursing from your breast.

It makes your cheeks warm. It’s not that you don't enjoy it—being intimate with him like this, especially knowing how much it means to him—you do. But every other time...Well, there'd been no milk involved.

You’ve been acutely aware of his eagerness for this moment. Once you got pregnant, especially as your belly began to grow, his...predisposition with your breasts hit an all-time high.

Then came that night you'd climbed into his lap and finally told him that you knew what he wanted. And that you were okay with it—he didn't need to feel embarrassed or ashamed. You were his wife, and you wanted to give him that comfort that he never received as a child. It was something meaningful, just between the two of you.

And while he'd initially tried to brush it off, he'd loved you for it. For not ever using your body—your breasts—to manipulate him while you provided him faux-comfort while he continued to live in desperation for the true thing.

He begins to suck a bit harder and then accidentally pinches your nipple between his teeth. "Ow! Easy, baby."

His cock twitches, eyes shooting open at that exclamation as he stares up at you while you gaze down at him with love.

He starts sucking more gently and you smile softly.

"Thank you," you whisper.

In truth, he wants you to fucking say it again—or something to the same effect. But how the hell is he supposed to ask for that? He’s never done it before. But right now...it's all he wants to hear from your lips.

So he bites down gently again—just enough to irritate—and you jolt. "John, that hurt!"

He pulls away from your breast, grinning up at you.

"Sorry, mommy," he replies, playfully, before taking your other breast in his mouth.

And then you realize...or think you do, at least. He wants you to talk to him like that.

The notion makes you squirm just a bit. Simply because you've never done baby talk before—have been worried that you'll be terrible at it once your little one finally arrives. But maybe this will make for good practice?

It’ll please him, if nothing else.

"Shh, just be gentle with mommy, sweetie."

His eyes close again, a groan emitting from the back of his throat.

Okay, he definitely likes it.

He continues to suck gently, so you run your fingers through his hair. "Good boy."

His lip twitches.

"You're making mommy feel so much better, baby. Thank you," you say, leaning down, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He smiles, utterly content in your lap—in your loving, motherly arms.

you should've skipped the seminar when homelander came to your college as a guest speaker. it was supposed to be a 'special treat' to returning students for the new academic year. you'd not wanted to attend in the first place, until instructors & professors began herding students into the university's auditorium—which had included you.

so, you'd sat there silently, not bothering with listening to, or so much as looking at the fraud who stood behind that podium in his ridiculous 'super' suit with a puffed-out chest.

but that had only made it all the more easy to spot you when your eyes were the only ones not honed-in on & captivated by his magnificent presence.

&, in an instant, he'd made you his target.

he'd gone to the dean afterward, flashed a brilliant smile, & used his perfected, charming ways so he'd be allowed to look through the student roster, under the guise of wishing to connect with a student to thank her for her kind & moving words that she'd spoken to him as he took photos & signed autographs with her classmates. whereas, in reality, you'd been the first one out of that goddamn room.

he'd wanted to rip apart the lot of them just to get to you & force you onto your knees as you apologized & licked at his boots for disrespecting him.

that evening, as you stand in front of the stove in your apartment making yourself dinner, a loud thud is heard from your balcony.

you go to it shaking & worried someone is trying to break in, only to be met by the sight of a familiar man in a suit & cape, smiling menacingly at you from the other side of the glass doors, gently rapping against them with his knuckles, demanding he be let in...

plotting:

he's going to be very intimidating the first time they meet at her apartment.

just barges right in as soon as she opens the door

"i—uh—how—"

"i came for an apology."

"but—"

"see, i take precious time out of my day—we both know how important my time is, i mean...it's far more valuable as compared to someone like yours; someone inconsequential & worthless, that is—to come to your little 'institution' of academics to bestow wisdom upon all of you morons & instead of you giving me the respect i'm owed, you couldn't be bothered to so much as look in my general direction."

she just stares at him in fear.

"are you fucking stupid? speak!"

"i—i'm sorry?" she's more-so asking out of confusion.

"mm, see, that wasn't very convincing."

he just keeps stepping further & further inside, until he has her backed up against a counter.

"did mommy & daddy not teach their little girl respect?"

more staring & shaking.

"i could always just make you get on your knees. to either suck me off, or lick my boots. maybe both," he says with a grin & a shrug.

"i'm not doing that. i don't...i don't understand why you even care. what...why you're here. how you even—"

"do you not like me? i'm a fucking hero. i am the face of this country. yet you treat me like any other insignificant schmuck on the street. i deserve some goddamn respect."

"i dislike all celebrities just the same. please, just—"

he raises a brow. "i am not just some 'celebrity'. i protect you. i look out for you. and this is the thanks i get for it? some sniveling little bitc—"

but before he can finish, she pushes away from him.

"shit!"

her dinner was burning on the stovetop.

he smirks then, having an idea.

"y'know what? that does seem like a good start at fixing things between us. you can make me dinner. maybe we play house for the evening."

she stares at him incredulously.

"go on, start cooking. before i make you."

she makes him 2 grilled cheese sandwiches—just something simple to try & get rid of him.

"just going to sit there & watch me eat?"

"i'm...not hungry anymore."

"what're you in school for, then?"

"creative writing."

"read me something you've written."

"i don't...i don't want to."

"well, it's either that or once i'm done with my dinner i carry you over to your bed & have my way with you. whether you want to or not."

she grabs her laptop, since he's already nearly done with 1 sandwich.

"nope, give it here. i get to choose which one."

he picks one & turns the device around just as the document is coming up.

her face immediately goes red & he knows he must've chosen right.

"go on, then. almost done. or don't. i win either way."

it's just pure smut.

she's SO uncomfortable while reading what she's written about a man giving a girl oral.

meanwhile, he can smell how turned on she is.

once he's done she immediately stops, retrieving his plate & putting it in the dishwasher.

he comes up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, then moving them down her arms, & up her chest until he has her tits in his hands.

she swings back around. "you can't—"

"oh, honey, i can do whatever the fuck i want." he grins. "& i think you're gonna like it."

he crushes his lips to hers, ignoring her mewls of protest as he lifts her onto the counter, pulling her shorts & panties down.

she tries to fight, but as soon as his eyes go red & he threatens her to either stay still or he'll kill her, she obeys.

he gets on his knees & eats her out until she's yanking on his hair & coming on his tongue.

he stands—his face shimmering from her & he kisses her again. "now, say thank you like a polite young lady."

"t-thank you."

he heads for the balcony again, throwing over his shoulder "i'll be back tomorrow" before taking off.

she's just sitting there humiliated. just like he wanted.

he keeps coming back to her apartment time & again, not much caring what she may or may not want.

he very slowly starts letting her in.

& when he does, he usually gets pissed-off right after, bc he's afraid of letting those walls down. but as soon as she touches him—a hand on the chest, or cupping his cheek, his mind just goes blank.

before long, he considers her as belonging to him, even if she doesn't know it. jealous side starts coming out to a frightening degree.

eventually, since his image is 'the american dream', pr team starts pushing for him to get married due to his being middle-aged & still alone—doesn't look good for his image. he puts it off for as long as possible until they have a list of suitable celebrities or other lined up for him to consider.

he panics. "i'm already engaged, so you can shove your roster of botox-filled bimbos where the sun don't shine. i found my girl."

goes to her apartment & throws her a small black box. "here, put that on your ring finger."

"j-john, this is—"

"yup," he says with a smile. "you are getting the unimaginable privilege of becoming misses homelander."

she makes him get down on one knee & do it right, despite him bitching.

in truth, she's frightened, but knows she has no other choice. he's already told her what will happen if she ever tries to leave—she's trapped.

speaking of pr—his team has him bring her in so they can properly meet her & make their judgement (doesn't matter either way what they think, bc he'd kill all of them/burn the whole building down before letting her go) & they start setting up photo-ops of him 'randomly' coming to visit her at uni—bringing her flowers, they're kissing, & hugging, & paparazzi just 'happen' to be nearby.

sometimes he'll just fly her up into the clouds to get the both of them away from it all. because yeah, he loves the attention, but it's the fact that she was his & now he feels like the media is trying to make her their own in some way. just as they have with him his whole life.

he wants her to stay as his & his alone. the wedding can't come soon enough so he can get her hidden privately away in a house somewhere.

buys her a house & gets to work on knocking her up asap. for one, bc i think he has a breeding kink, but also to further trap her, & to also get to work on building his lil 'master race' of supes & bc...mommy kink.

man has massive mommy issues, as we all know.

is going to have a particular breast-feeding kink w/ reader where he obvs can't actually feed (bc she's like 21 & doesn't have any kids yet), so he just will have her hold his head in her lap while he sucks on her nipples.

one day she has to go to the store to finally buy nipple cream bc of cracking & irritation he's doing it so much & a woman picking up formula is all "aw, how old is yours? (:" & she's mentally just like "do NOT say 43". "oh, uh, 6 months. (:"

headcanons:

after he & reader are married & have their first child, he has a lot of nightmares of something horrid happening to them. when he wakes up, it's always to her shaking him awake, telling him it's ok—everything is okay. his eyes will slowly fade from red, back to their natural color before he yanks her shirt down & starts breast-feeding for comfort. she just holds him & sings to him. it's just the routine they go through every-other night.

honestly? in general, she's his only source of comfort. he loves his children w/ her, but at times they give him nothing but anxiety, bc he's terrified he's going to fuck them up just like he is.

so, he tends to, at times, treat her like a surrogate mother for himself.

it was part of why he was so desperate to finally get her pregnant: to make her a literal mother at last.

before kids? called her pet names every now & again, but mostly by her first name. after? mommy all day long. she knows why, too. & it's not bc of the babies.

at random times, he'll just feel an overwhelming sense of emotion (affection) when he's with reader. & his only way to deal with it is to just pull her toward him as he lays his head between her breasts while she wraps her arms around his shoulders & head & he wraps his around her middle.

sometimes when she's studying or doing schoolwork, he'll get whiny bc he wants her tits in his face, so she eventually forces him into a compromise: they'll sit on the couch—she'll have a small table behind it with her things for uni—& she'll be straddling his lap while she works/writes/types & he gets to suck on her nips all he wants!

[loveinhawkins]

Head spinning from blood loss, Eddie still manages to keep up a steady stream of curses as he lies in Steve’s arms, as he feels the jolt of Steve sprinting through The Upside Down.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking bullshit, fuck.”

“Good,” Steve says, frantic and out of breath. “Good, that’s—keep it up, Henderson says it can be, like, a sorta pain relief? Something about—”

“Fuck.” This time, Eddie chuckles through it. “S’not why I’m saying it.”

“No?” Steve says in that weird, measured tone that just silently screams panic, panic, panic. “Why?”

“Jus’ making sure,” Eddie says, and he knows that doesn’t make sense yet, can’t quite get his brain to work everything out. “Those’d be shit last words, so. They won’t be. You… fuck, ow. You know? Here lies Eddie Munson: fuck.”

Steve laughs, maybe a little hysterical, a little desperate, but mostly genuine. “Yeah, you’re right. That’d be really embarrassing, man.”

Eddie suddenly can’t find the energy to act insulted, even though he badly wants to make Steve laugh again—but it turns out, he doesn’t need to say anything, because Steve keeps talking.

“D’you know what that would be, though? A damn good yearbook quote.”

And Eddie laughs, too—laughs even though it hurts. “C’mon, man, Higgins would never let—”

“Eddie,” Steve manages to drawl out, even as he dextrously weaves through the vines on the ground, like Eddie’s just said something particularly naive. “You think Higgins looks over the yearbooks? You just gotta sweet-talk the yearbook committee, they pay the printers to turn a blind eye, and—”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s what I’m known for. Sweet-talking,” Eddie says. He tries very hard not to cough, has the horrible feeling that he might tear himself in two if he does.

“Don’t sell yourself short, dude,” Steve says.

And Eddie would blame that on the blood loss for making him hear things, but then Steve’s hands gently squeeze around him like he means it, and…

“So what… what was your yearbook quote, Harrington?” Eddie says. He firmly ignores the fact that his voice is becoming increasingly slurred.

Steve picks up the pace, kicks through the door into the trailer. His breath hitches once, but not from physical strain; Eddie knows that he’s frightened.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Steve replies, chiding, because he’s so goddamn brave, too. “Not telling you that until we get out of this.”

“Tease,” Eddie says.

But he must not get it out very clearly, because as Steve heads to the Gate, he murmurs, “Stay with me, Eddie.”

There’s some rope Steve had stashed in the corner of the living room, just in case, and Robin and Nancy must’ve made use of it to get Dustin through, because it’s already hovering in the air, waiting for them.

“Okay,” Steve says, half to himself. “I’ve got this.”

Eddie attempts a nod. The room spins.

Or maybe it’s just that they’re moving somehow, that Steve’s pulling them both up the rope, somehow not letting go of Eddie; and then he can hear muted yells from the other side, and he’s being lifted up on his own, like he’s ascending to heaven or some bullshit like that, and he almost wants to demand a re-mark on his English paper, because religious symbolism is fucking hilarious, actually.

“You’re a goddamn trapeze artist, Harrington,” he says, and Steve must hear him this time, because there’s a laugh from just behind him, a fucking beautiful laugh, and then Eddie’s falling, and he’s—

“Oh,” Eddie gasps, and his hand goes to his side instinctively, and he didn’t think he had much more blood in his body left to lose, but… “Oh, shit.”

His vision tilts sickeningly, and right before he passes out, he sees Steve appear in front of him, sees his face turn white.

“Eddie,” he’s saying, “Nance, what do I—oh my god—”

-

When Eddie wakes up, everything is fuzzy, his head full of cotton. There’s a metallic taste in his mouth that he has enough awareness not to panic about, that he somehow knows isn’t blood.

“So?” he says through the fog, lifts his eyelids just enough to see Steve is beside him. “What’s your yearbook quote?”

“Christ, you’re annoying,” Steve says with a smile, but he’s speaking in the thick, nasal tones of someone who’s been crying. “Thought you were on stuff that makes you forget all the stupid shit.”

“S’not stupid,” Eddie says indignantly.

For some reason, Steve’s eyes soften. “If you say so. Just rest right now, Eddie.”

“Can’t,” Eddie moans. He’s already made the mistake of looking up: the lights are too bright, quickly turning into nauseating swirls. “Feel sick.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says. “They said that’s normal. Hey, shh, just lie back. It’ll pass.”

But Eddie shakes his head and—ooh, shit, not a good idea.

“Y’should move, man,” he says. “Don’t wanna puke on you.”

Steve scoffs. “Eddie, you could literally throw up in my hair, and I wouldn’t give a shit.”

Eddie laughs, feels a bit pathetic that it comes out wet around the edges. “I just… wanna sleep,” he says, because he does, but he knows the nausea will keep him up—feels abruptly tearful, like he had done as a child with whooping cough, up for the whole night despite his fatigue.

“Here,” Steve says. “Close your eyes.”

And as he does so, Eddie feels a soothingly cool palm across his forehead. Steve. It’s such a gentle touch, such a kind touch that Eddie thinks he might cry—thinks he can only partly blame whatever drugs he’s on.

“Better?” Steve asks.

“Better,” Eddie agrees. And then, like a fool, he hurriedly says, “Don’t stop, though,” out of fear that Steve will draw his hand back at the answer.

Steve doesn’t laugh, doesn’t tease him even the slightest bit.

“I won’t,” he says, like an oath. His thumb rubs over Eddie’s temple. “M’sorry you feel shitty.”

“It’s okay. You’re right, it’s passing. Think… think it was just… lookin’ at the lights.”

Eddie sighs without meaning to, lulled by the repetitive path Steve’s fingers are tracing, over and over.

“Mm-hmm. Keep your eyes closed, then.” Steve hums softly, just in thought, not even close to a lullaby, but Eddie feels himself starting to drift off to it anyway.

“It’s a nice room you’ve got,” Steve says. “I would’ve rioted if it wasn’t. Big window. Just a view of the parking lot, sorry, not exactly five stars.” Another hum. “Kinda pretty in its own way, though. It’s getting a bit warmer. I saw—the other day, I looked out and saw these kids, there’s some grass a little bit away from… they were making daisy chains, I think. Was never good at… couldn’t get ‘em to tie right. So I’d just kinda tug at the grass, and… Hey, d’you know, some of the kids—like, our kids, I mean—they don’t even know about the buttercup thing, holding it to see if it like, glows, under your chin? I told Max about it when she got outta here—shh, she’s okay—and she just looked at me like I was crazy. She’s good at daisy chains, man, she told Lucas it was five dollars per flower and he paid it all, wore the damn thing on his wrist for the whole day. Stupidly sweet, but I couldn’t even say so or she’d, like, punch me.”

And Eddie’s used to painting a picture with words, used to creating fantastical landscapes out of thin air during campaigns. But as Steve goes on, talking about the kids (their kids), and flowers, and all the little signs of spring that he can’t see, Eddie falls asleep thinking that Steve’s given him the most beautiful, ever-changing view: how he sees the world.

-

Eddie doesn’t forget about the yearbook, but he doesn’t bring it up, simply because Steve keeps quiet about it.

It’s after a few weeks of the dust settling, reassurances that the nightmare’s over: of seeing Wayne and breaking down in tears of relief, of countless visits from everyone—mostly Dustin, second only to Wayne, of course; Eddie still says Steve’s tied for second place, at least, but Dustin insists it doesn’t count whenever Steve’s only there fleetingly to drop him off before heading to work.

It’s on an afternoon when he’s not expecting anyone, and Steve comes in, drops the yearbook right on top of his blankets.

Eddie looks down at it, hovers his hand over the front cover until Steve raises one eyebrow, as if to say, go ahead.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to find him. The picture is… there’s something beautifully imperfect about it, as if Steve had been caught by surprise by the flash going off when it did, lips tilted into a smile that’s relaxed rather than the typical rigid, picture-perfect look.

Eddie thinks that he finally gets what Wayne means whenever he says someone has ‘soulful eyes.’

And underneath the little box framing Steve’s picture, there’s…

There’s nothing. It doesn’t stand out, because not everyone on that page had opted to have a quote, but…

Eddie looks up. Steve shrugs, but his eyes are downcast.

“Yeah, sorry.” His voice is quiet; Eddie can hear a touch of embarrassment, and he hates it. “It’s not even… I didn’t even choose to keep it blank, really, the yearbook committee gave the deadline so far in advance, it… I had the time. Could’ve put anything.” He shrugs again. “Guess I couldn’t… guess I just, um… had nothing to say.”

Eddie closes the book. Sets it aside. Doesn’t take his eyes off Steve.

He gets it. If it’s even possible for him to be included in a yearbook, he’s confident he’d do the same—how do you even begin to sum up…? There’s nothing he could say about this year.

There are no words for it. For any of it.

But Eddie knows the ones that count.

“Tell me about work,” he says. He has the feeling Steve’s determinedly squeezed in a visit during his lunch break, his name tag askew.

Steve smiles, wrinkles his nose uncertainly. “But that’s so boring.”

“Nah,” Eddie says. “Maybe I like hearing what you have to say.”

Steve looks up finally; he smiles a little like he had in the photograph, as if something like a flash has surprised him.

And he talks about work.

But it’s more than that; it’s so much more. Eddie’s getting to see through a precious window.

He hears about how Steve noticed Robin wearing odd socks, and he only teased her about it when he was sure it wasn’t a deliberate twist on fashion she was trying out. How the sun meant it was hard to see the T.V, so he drew the blinds when no customers were around, made it feel like him and Robin had their own private cinema. And Eddie smiles fondly when Steve recalls smelling some kind of coconut perfume he couldn’t place, and Robin had started a list guessing names, just because he said it reminded him of a family vacation when he was four.

Eddie sees it all.

He doesn’t need clever one liners, or statements of grandeur.

He just needs Steve’s words.

[utterlyotterlyx]

White Flag

Cassian x Rhys!Sister Reader

Summary - There had never been a moment where you and Cassian had seen eye to eye, despite his attempts to make peace and make a friend of you, it wasn't something that you wanted.

Warnings - angst, swearing, teasing, back and forth banter, mentions of blood

The Day Court had become your home from the moment you had decided that you couldn't bear to be around Cassian any longer. Luckily, Helion was a good friend of yours even if he wasn't overly fond of your brother and his inner circle. and granted you sanctuary before you had even finished asking him the question.

A part of you didn't even know how it had all started, that outlandish flare of dramatic hatred that passed between you whenever you were too close. Maybe he was threatened by your athletic prowess and strength, maybe you despised how often a new female ended up in his bed

Things had come to an abrupt head when you had punched him square in the nose for making a comment about your mood, asking if your cycle was drawing near. Blood gushed from his nostrils and he stuttered back a few steps, cradling the now broken bone and groaning as blood dripped onto the floor.

"Why is he bleeding?" Rhys had enquired after entering the room, sensing the stench of blood through the closed door of his office.

Cassian stood by the sink, bloody rag clasped around the injured affect, "Because he's an idiot," you replied with astounding calmness, feet propped up on the arm of the chair and your fingers flipping idly through the pages of your book.

"I didn't know that idiocy caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose."

You had hummed, a smirk pulling at your lips when you noticed Cassian's hazel gaze ripping through you, "I think it's a new phenomenon."

Rhys had usually kept out of your spats, like the rest of the inner circle, they knew your sass was not something to play with, it was unfortunate how Cassian skipped over that fact.

Then there were the countless family dinners that were interrupted, and sometimes ruined, by your joint fire.

"You know, Cassian," his ears pricked upward but his eyes narrowed, he'd like to believe that maybe for once you'd say something nice to him, to stop this feud between you, "Remember that one time I said that you were cool?" He nodded, falling victim to another one of your games as the room held a collective breath, Rhys already pinching the bridge of his nose, "I lied."

Cassian growled, slamming his fork down on the table and standing from his seat, the chair skidding along the wood with his brute force, "I can't help imagining how much more awesome the world would be if your dad had just pulled out."

You were smirking, that shit-eating smirk you always wore when you managed to get him to bite, "Please, save your breath, Cassian," you cooed obnoxiously, popping a honey soaked carrot into your mouth, "You'll probably need it to blow up your next date."

Azriel had choked on his wine and you spared him a sidelong glance, convincing yourself that if Cassian's red face turned one shade darker then he'd surely erupt in flames.

Then there were the missions that Rhys had assigned you and Cassian to, he thought forcing you two to work together would put an end to the nonsense that was your tiff. Azriel was the unlucky one who had to accompany you both so that you didn't wind up killing one another.

An ash arrow hurtled past your face, grazing the tip of your pointed ear, you had dodged its full puncture successfully and heaved out a sigh as you took cover behind a nearby tree, "Oh my gosh, did you see that?! I almost just died!"

Cassian had sauntered past you, sword coated in the blood of your enemies, strands of brown hair falling from his bun, and dirt dusting the side of his face, he grinned at you, "Tragic that you didn't."

Azriel audibly groaned, sick of both of you, it had been three full days of trudging around the outskirts of the winter court, he was freezing, Cassian was making his head pound with his constant complaining, and you were certainly catching a cold.

The Shadowsinger had finally had enough when he had heard you and Cassian arguing at the edge of the clearing, the latter had gone to bathe, to wipe away the blood and dirt from his skin, only to turn around and find that his clothes had been plucked from the bank.

"I didn't do it," you told him through laughs as Azriel approached, Cassian was stood in the water up to his impeccable v line, fists clenched and seething through his teeth as his body shivered from the cold.

"Then why are you laughing?!"

You were leaned against the trunk of a tree, clad in your warm clothing that Rhys had insisted you wear, badass or not, you were still his little sister, "Because whoever did it is a freaking genius."

Rhys had had enough of it. Of all of it.

An ultimatum had been delivered to you both, after being pulled into Rhys' office by the scruffs of your necks by Azriel, you had been told that one of you had to move out of the House of Wind permanently. Though, Rhys' plans of keeping you apart had completely backfired when you had stood up and told him that you were leaving the Night Court altogether, the words shaking the room enough that even Cassian felt guilty that your feud had become so severe that you actually wanted to leave your home court.

"And go where?" Rhys had rose, that power pulsating around him like a heartbeat, a drowning effect that made you all feel dizzy as his eyes darkened and jaw clenched.

"The Day Court," you stated like it was already decided, "Helion has offered me a place within his court and I accepted. I leave tonight."

"Over my dead body!" Rhys rumbled, it was deadly enough for even Azriel's shadows to cower behind him whilst Cassian looked at you bewildered.

Ticking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you quipped, "Well, go lay down and die then because I'm not going to be told what to do, especially not by you."

"You are my sister. You are a Princess of the Night Court."

"And I am allowed to make my own decisions regarding my life and future," you looked to Cassian and frowned, your eyes dipped with an emotion he'd never seen in you, "And, right now, my life is not here."

That was how you found yourself within Helion's court, doused in white and gold, with tanned skin from the bright never-ending sun, with your toes dipped in sand and the ocean breeze drifting through your hair.

It had been a year since you had left Velaris, and gods, you missed the City of Starlight so much. The Day Court was wonderful, beautiful in its own incredible way, but it wasn't Velaris, your home.

Helion had found you walking along the sandy shores when you should have been readying yourself for the ball starting in a few hours. Rhys and the entirety of your former family were visiting to celebrate the announcement of Feyre's pregnancy, stopping in every court bar Autumn and Spring to spread the joy, to signal a new age for Prythian after all of the torment they had been subjected to.

"I would have thought you'd be ready by now," Helion noted, watching your cream coloured dress float in the breeze, you held your shoes between your fingers and gazed outward to the ocean.

You hummed, "Part of me isn't looking forward to it," you admitted.

The time you had spent in the Day Court had made you softer, had given you a new perspective. There was much more to love in life than arguing and feuding, and you had spent a little over two weeks trying to figure out why you and Cassian could never seem to get along.

Helion draped an arm over your shoulder, his golden crown shimmering in the sunlight that was usually focused on you, focused on making your skin glitter and smile, "It's been a year since you left, I'm sure they're all looking forward to seeing you."

"Or telling me how much easier their lives have been without me," you laughed sadly, slumping into his side softly as he turned to lead you back up to the palace.

"You're a changed woman now, Y/N. I think that more than anything they'll just be happy to see you thriving."

Fuck.

You were so late. So late that it would be noted as disrespectful no matter how much longer you took. Helion was right, you should have been readying yourself much earlier rather than trailing your toes in the sand.

Helion had gone to great lengths to secure you the most spectacular dress anyone had ever seen. A rich gold garment that snaked tightly around your breasts and curved perfectly over your thighs and ass, no sleeves attached to it, but he had gifted you a set of matching arm cuffs and one for your thigh which was exposed by a high slit, as well as ear cuffs which gave a subtle nod to the Day Courts abilities to hone their gifts of invention.

You were practically running down the halls whilst putting your heels on and clasping your necklace around your neck, taking a sharp left which you knew would lead you to a more secluded entrance where you hoped you could slip in unnoticed.

Sliding through the small opening in the wall, you ducked your way along the length of the room, popping up and smoothing your dress out before reaching for the nearest passing tray of flutes, downing half of the liquid to make it seem like you had been there for longer than you had.

"Very smooth, Y/N," A familiar voice purred with amusement laced in his voice, you turned to find Azriel stood behind you, he looked surprised as he took you in, acknowledging the tanned hue and glow that had possessed your skin, your violet eyes seemed a shade or two lighter than Rhys'.

"Az," you breathed, placing your flute down on the table beside you and throwing yourself into his open arms, you both laughed, and he inhaled your scent, salted summer oceans and velvety rose petals.

Pulling back, you smiled up at him brightly, showing all of your teeth. It was like Day had thrown up on you, though, Azriel couldn't deny that gold most certainly agreed with you. Another force jolted into your side and you lifted your arm to find Mor bundled into your ribs, squeezing you tightly and refusing to let go to the point you had to physically unwind her from you.

"I've missed you so much," her bottom lip wobbled as tears gathered in her eyes, you reached for her, wiping the stray droplets with your thumb.

"You know I'm only like ten minutes away from you, right?"

"Not the point, Y/N," a deep voice drawled, it made you shiver, and before you could even properly move to find the owner, you were already gathered up in his arms, "Hello, little sister."

"Hi, Rhys," your eyes found Feyre stood a few feet away from you, a hand cradling her swelling bump, you moved to her, looking down at that bump, "Congratulations, I'm so happy for you."

Rhys couldn't deny that you seemed different, that you had changed since the night you had left Velaris after your argument, after the ultimatum he had wrongfully forced on you. Feyre had told him that you would be fine, that you deserved to see what life could be outside of Velaris, that you would one day come home to them a different woman than the one who had left.

They all watched as Feyre guided your hands to her stomach and you felt your nephew wriggling around and kicking, "Hey, stop kicking your mama," you had bent down to whisper, "She's been through enough," and the little thing within her halted, settling into a comfortable position and Feyre sighed with relief.

Straightening your posture, you took your flute and took another sip, feeling overwhelmed by all you had missed, "I'll be back in a minute," you told them, Rhys moved to follow after you but Feyre stopped him, she knew how much it must have been for you, she was always the understanding one.

Your usual haven was empty when you had reached it, a white stone balcony at the end of a secluded hallway that looked out onto the lapping waves colliding with the mountain upon which the Day Court Palace lay.

A single tear flowed down your face and you heaved in a breath, trying to control yourself by clutching onto the stone railing. Your hair whipped around your face, and the fire lanterns flickered in the breeze.

"I know that we aren't friends, but if you need me to punch somebody out, you know I can and will," the voice you used to grimace at called to you from a metre or so away.

Spinning on your heels, you saw Cassian before you, illuminated by the moonlight so that you could see his unbound hair and muscular chest that peeked out from his undone shirt, "Thanks, but I'm good," you sniffled softly, grabbing your flute and finishing off the sparkling liquid inside of it before placing it back onto the stone ledge.

Cassian frowned at you, his eyes roamed over your face and figure, smiling in approval at your bright eyes and tan skin, and the masterfully tailored dress and accessories you adorned. There was something soft about you.

"It's good to see you, Cassian. You look happy," the admission tugged sadly at that ball of bliss inside of you, the ball that had been enriched and glowed like starlight.

He approached you, stepping out into the night and understanding why you had blindly led yourself there, he had followed you, noticing how you weren't paying much attention to where you were going and simply allowing your feet to carry you there.

"I could be better," he expressed, taking another step closer to you and finding nothing untoward in your expression, no anger, no distaste, nothing but warmth, "It's weird seeing you not being mad with me."

A gentle laugh pushed through you, it crinkled at the corner of your eyes, "If it means anything, I don't think I was ever really mad at you."

"Yeah?" Cassian coaxed, wanting more of an answer from you.

The lanterns scattered light over the side of your body, the small speck of glitter in your jasmine body oil shimmering softly, "I think I was jealous of you if anything," you had turned away from him and propped your elbows up on the stone platform, staring up at the stars longingly, "You're a true Illyrian and I'm not, not since I lost them," your shoulders rolled, and Cassian saw the faint crescent moon scars ripple at the movement, "I think I saw you as reckless, you were making so many stupid moves that could end up with you being hurt or losing your own wings," you flinched at the thought, "I'm sorry."

"I get it," he told you, mirroring your stance and looking upward at the sky which held nothing on Velaris, "I think I'd be the same if I were in your shoes."

Cassian on some level had always known that you harboured some resentment toward them, for their privilege of not having to worry about having their wings clipped. It had broken them all when it had happened to you, that was the moment you'd turned cold toward him, causing more arguments than anything else.

"This court has changed me, I'm not that person anymore. I hope you know that."

Cassian grabbed your wrist as you moved to walk away, pulling you flush to his chest and tensing as his rough fingers ghosted over your cheek, "I never thought you were that person. I tried to fix it, you know, fix whatever I had done wrong. I was the one who made sure you always had enough strawberries in the house and made Feyre swear to take credit for it. I was the one who made sure your bathroom cabinet was always stocked full of bath oils and healing creams, not Mor. That gift three solstices ago you loved so much, the blanket made from the dresses of Selene and your mother, that was me too, not Az."

"But why? We hate each other?"

"I never hated you, the truth couldn't be more opposite," you could feel his heart beating through the silk of his shirt, through the satin on your dress, he grazed his fingers around the cuffs on your ears, "I love you actually, a lot, and I stupidly thought that if all the words I could get from you were teasing jabs then it would be enough, just to hear your voice."

"You love me?"

Cassian grinned, lowering himself and stopping only millimetres away from your lips, sparks of fire sparking between them, "Always have, Princess," when you didn't move away, he closed that gap between you and allowed the world to explode into a kaleidoscope of colour around your forms, you fisted into his shirts, pulling him closer, and his hands found the small of your back, leaning into you.

Panting, you pulled away, opening your eyes to find his hazel spheres pressing into you, his nose touching your own. You laughed, a laugh that send shivers of joy down his spine, "I can't believe we were in love all this time. I swore I would never become this trope."

Cassian chuckled, a rich a deep thing that made you yearn for him, he kissed you again, with more hunger than you had ever felt, "Who doesn't love a good cliché, my formiddable mate?"

Authors Note

I'm happy now x

[curseofaphrodite]

mutiny.

pirate!sylus x spy!reader

summary: dealing with secrets was your thing but with him, you weren't sure how long the lies would hold up.

Rumors of a royal spy being infiltrated in the pirate ship had always been floating around, but now someone might have actual evidence? In many ways, this day was long overdue, at least for you.

Spy or not, the work you put into the ship was real enough. Starting off the lowest rank with no intention of doing anything other than collecting information for puny royal coins, you quickly came to realize that pirate life had its own certain appeal. The sailors were mad, but they had each other's backs when it mattered. The food and music were an unexpected bonus.

The only downside you could think of was the ship's Second-In-Command.

You had called out on Sylus's shitfuckery from day one and he had grown a secret grudge against you from then. Alright, it might not have been that big of a secret because everyone knew about it. You thanked your lucky stars that he was not the Captain, because he'd have made you walk the plank way before this.

What if he's the one who has the evidence against me? you thought bleakly. No Y/N, they don't know who the spy is yet. They just have the evidence one exists. If I could just find the proof and destroy it before they link it to me...

"Lost in your thoughts, sweetheart?" Lelya, the ship's self-proclaimed sorceress, asked quietly. "Would you like an apple?"

"No, I'm full," you responded, trying to stay cool. Whatever happens will happen and you'll have to meet it when it does. There were many sailor sayings about it but none sounded comforting.

"We're working it off in our next heist then," Sylus barged into the scene with a triumphant smile. He was wearing his usual black long coat, which was a striking contrast to his plain white hair. There were stories that his hair used be colourful, that a mermaid stole its life when he broke her heart — and knowing Sylus, it was probably true.

"Ay, we just had our heist. Let us rest a while." One of the older pirates said, not even opening his eyes.

"Oh, I wish I could say something about that. This heist is involuntary."

"Involuntary?" you groaned. "Please tell me this isn't your way of letting us know that —THE SHIP IS UNDER ATTACK!"

You yelled the last part because the ship was, indeed, under attack. A giant vessel with royal blue banners was sending their canons loose, and the pirates in your ship had started to run amok. You knew most of them were just going to alert the captain, but the scene unnerved you just the same.

"We're going to need weapons," Sylus said, smirking a bit.

You shot him a sharp glance. "No, we only need weapons if they get in. All we need to do is get ourselves far away."

"This is the work of the spy." The Captain walked in, a faraway look in is face. "Sylus, you said you've found who it is?"

Shit.

"I said I'm close," Sylus replied, and if you weren't busy gasping as several things fell into place, you would have understood that he took one more step to you.

The spy is close.

Sylus is the one with the proof?! In a way, this cut down your work in half. You just need to sneak into his room and find it. But if he knew, it's not like he wouldn't have handed over the proof already.

Don't be stupid, Captain would have drowned me if he knew. You thought in exhaustion.

"Work faster," he snapped at Sylus. The latter didn't look offended, which meant he was smug. Which meant he really was just scaring you.

I don't know how the royal ships found us but it wasn't because of me. I'd never sell these people out. You wanted to say, to plead — but your ego kept your mouth closed. He walked away, whistling some tune.

You turned to the direction of the royal ship and sighed. You could think of your doom later. Right now, you need to fight.

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

The next hour went in a quick blur. There were commands being thrown around and there were casualties, but luckily, no deaths. It seemed as if destroying the ship was what the royals wanted, but so far, they held up well on their own. Past the smoke and the screams, it got to a point where the other side was silent.

With your heart beating against your chest, you slowly got up from the ground, where everyone else was kneeling to protect themselves. You could see the royal ship close enough, but there was nary a sound.

"Everyone alive?" Sylus asked from behind, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. You were almost sure you hadn't seen him through most of the fight, but that isn't to say he had hidden. There was a slit down his face, and he appeared beaten up.

"Wha—"

"One of the fuckers got in. I was dealing with him."

"Is he—?"

"A drowning corpse right this second? Yes." Sylus winced when you involuntarily put a hand over his shoulder. You were only trying to get a clearer view of his wounds, but you jumped just the same.

"Sylus, you can't—"

"DUCK!" Someone yelled, and you looked up to see darkness fill the sky. Or at least, a cannon heading straight towards where you and Sylus stood.

Adrenaline shot into your head and you pushed yourself against him, pulling both of you out of harm's way. While the cannon hit the place you stood moments ago, you realized you weren't completely out of danger's reach.

There was a ringing in your head and you were completely knocked out.

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

The cot you were resting on was deeply uncomfortable. You opened our eyes and tried to get up, but the pain pulled you right back into the sheets.

"Take it easy," Sylus's voice almost scared you as much as it bought you comfort. With a dizzy head, you sat up straight and saw him perched on the end of your bed, as if he might run away any second.

"How are you unharmed?"

"They never intend to harm me, Y/N." He looked at you earnestly. "You're smart enough to answer me this: why would this ship have a royal spy?"

Blood drained from your face. You glanced at his hair for a second — the silver that you knew wasn't because of depressed mermaids.

"Why?" he asked. "Why not other pirate ships? Why ours?"

"It's— well, it's almost as if what they're looking for is only on this ship." You answered, sighing. He frowned, so you quickly added, "Is anyone else hurt?"

"Oh no, that was the last cannon." Sylus smiled at you, something so rare that you were taken aback. "You saved my life."

The statement was simple. He didn't sound grateful, just a little surprised. You tilted your head as if to say, I'd do it again.

"Listen," you took a breath, not knowing how to convince him you weren't the bad person he probably thought you were. "I didn't know the attack was going to happen. I had no part in that."

He frowned again. "I know that."

"No seriously, all I do is give them your co-ordinates. They just want to protect you."

"Y/N?" He stood up, looking taller than usual. Or maybe you were just shrinking by his glare. "Tell me you're fucking joking right now."

"What?" your sound was so quiet you weren't sure if it actually came out.

"You're the spy? YOU?" He looked so... hurt. You stood up, not knowing what to say.

"You knew this already! Stop acting like you didn't!"

"I found a weapon with royal insignia from David's locker. I thought HE was the spy, not the girl who spends every waking moment arguing with me — not you!" He ran his fingers through his hair, turning away. His next words were almost timid. "How can it be you?'

It occurred to you that him asking about the spy was not because he suspected you but rather, he just wanted your information. That he actually cared about what you had to say. That thought only made you more depressed.

"Sylus I—"

But like a child after embarrassing himself, he walked away, leaving you alone. You didn't what he did after that. You didn't know if he told the Captain right away, or whether he waited till after dinner. You didn't know what he thought of you, but when two pirates came to you in the middle of the night with shackles, you were hardly surprised.

When they threw you in the cell of the ship, you didn't object much. You were too tired. You could sense Sylus standing outside the bars, blending in with the shadows. You could sense his broken trust, and you could feel him leaving.

Once the shock dissipated, you looked around the cell and saw it wasn't empty. There were piles of stolen goods and treasures, but the one that caught your eye was the royal crown. It was small — fit for a prince rather than a king. You knew that out of all of them, this was the only thing that actually belonged to Sylus.

Sylus hated you because you knew his biggest secret. And while you held his crown, the one he ditched and ran away from years ago, you wondered if you were just a reminder of the past that he was running away from.

The thought made you guilty, but for now, you needed an escape plan.

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

kofi | commissions

[the-duchess-of-domination]

Thanksgiving

here is a Thanksgiving fantasy to put you all in the mood.

your boyfriend is a people pleaser who has a hard time saying no. he fears disappointing people, and because of that you’ve got quite the line-up of Thanksgiving dinner invites: Friendsgiving with your mutual friends, Thanksgiving with his folks, Thanksgiving at your parent’s, a Thanksgiving dinner at his work. it’s a week long affair, and you’ve even got multiple dinners in one day with little time to recover. you slave away in the kitchen, making a new dish to bring to each dinner. your boyfriend, of course, is your taste tester.

the first dinner at your parent’s house is uneventful. this is his first holiday with your family, so he wants to make a good impression. he fervently eats anything that is put in front of him, and even though he doesn’t have room left for your mother’s sweet potato pie, he eats two slices.

the next day his work is having a Thanksgiving dinner. he brings you to meet his coworkers, and he wants to schmooze and charm them so much he takes a helping of Tanya’s mash potatoes, Carl’s filling, Genevieve’s green bean casserole. Not wanting to offend anyone, he fills a flimsy paper plate with so much food that it begins to bend. against all odds, every bite ends up in his rapidly tightening belly.

now it’s Thanksgiving Day, and you’ve got his family’s Thanksgiving in the early afternoon and your mutual Friendsgiving in the evening. your boyfriend’s mother gives him hearty scoops. that’s her little boy, after all. your boyfriend is noticeably petering out, but he doesn’t want to make his mother worry. he finishes his plate with an achingly full stomach, trained from the days of when he was a kid and wasn’t allowed to leave the dinner table without finishing his supper.

when it’s time for you to head to your Friendsgiving, you drive, and he sits in the passenger seat with his head against the headrest, wincing and cringing at every pothole you hit.

“you okay?” you ask him. “you’ve been awfully quiet.”

“yeah. just tired.” he lies.

at Friendsgiving, he listlessly plays with his turkey, pushing it around his plate with a fork, an elbow on the table and a hand supporting his head. while he doesn’t empty the plate, he hardly has anything to scrape into the trash.

when everyone retires to the living room, your boyfriend disappears. you search your friend’s house and see the bathroom door is closed. you knock.

“honey?” you say.

“hm?” your boyfriend replies.

“can i come in?”

“one sec.”

when you enter your boyfriend is sitting on the edge of the tub. he stands up quickly.

“what are you doing in here?” you ask.

“i just needed a minute.”

you look down to see a sliver of his white underwear. he zips up his fly, and sucks in his distended stomach to button his pants.

“are you okay?”

“yeah. it’s nothing. i just have a stomachache.”

you find this adorable. in an effort to get on everyone’s good side, to flatter them by eating their food, your boyfriend has given himself a terrible bellyache.

while your friends laugh over a card game at the coffee table, your boyfriend is distracted on the sofa, rubbing his stomach through the pocket of his hoodie. you put your hand in the pocket and start rubbing his belly, touching his cold hand with your warm one. his poor belly is hard and tight from everything he’s eaten in the past four days.

“does it hurt bad?” you whisper, and when he nods you say “do you want to leave early?”

he shakes his head. “we’re supposed to be having fun with our friends. i don’t want us to leave on my account.”

a mutual friend brings over a slice of pumpkin pie topped with whip cream. she offers it to your boyfriend. in horror you watch your boyfriend beam a fake smile and then graciously take the plate from her. the fork goes in his mouth. you feel his body shudder and his stomach growl angrily against your hand

what will Christmas bring?

[y4z1]

Black, Stained White. | MDNI

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Synopsis: You and Bang Chan get into a playful fight when he finds out he isn't your bias, but what unrolls after your fight with Chan is a very not-so-bestfriend like situation.

Warnings: making out, sex, choking-ish, reader is called babygirl (duh, it's chan), fingering, Daddy kink, choking kink, spanking, basically just MDNI

WC: 1.5k

Chan was sitting across you, on the bean bag in the corner of the room, while you were sitting on your bed. His cute dimples and crescent-shaped eyes were staring back at you—cute. You were sharing a hilarious memory of you and Felix's disastrous moment of baking, and how you had accidentally slipped over a banana peel on the floor. His giggles filling the entire room, it was like heaven to your ears. You loved nothing more than hearing Chan happy.

Out of all the people you'd met, you loved Chan the most. You appreciated that he loved you for who you are, unlike others. Throughout your relationship of several years, Chan had always been the one putting a smile on your face. And so, you did the same for him. You really can't recall a single memory where you guys aren't dying of laughter on the floor.

After recollecting yourself and taking a few deep breaths, you finally looked back at him—and bursted out laughing, again. "I'm so sorry, I'm actually so sorry I'll stop"

5 minutes pass and you finally stopped laughing. Chan got up and stretched his arms out, he was wearing a full black outfit. He slipped his beanie off and his orange curly hair poofed out which looked, not to mention, so damn attractive.

He'd dyed his hair plenty of times, but I guess since it's been a while you'd never realized how much you'd craved seeing orange-haired Chan.

His eyes perked up at your and his body facing you. His eyebrows furrowed and head tilted. "Hey, I've never asked you, who's your bias?"

You smiled and blushed at the thought of your bias—or seungmin, specifically. But you couldn't tell him that, what if he tells the other members and then they feel like they're not good enough or just not loved.

"I like all the members", you'd thought you'd gotten away with it but deep down you knew your lies were pretty obvious, and the guilt was plastered on your face.

"Stop lying, I know you have a bias". He was smiling at you again, inching closer by the second. His sexy, deep, Australian accent making your heart beat even faster as if it's not about to already jump out of your body.

You were scared, guilty, and flustered all at the same time. And he could clearly tell. "I won't tell anyone" he said with a warm smile to calm you down a little. And he kept his promises, he really did, he kept all of them in fact.

Without a second thought, you looked at him in the eyes. "It's seungmin...", you fidgeted with your hands. A shocked look on his face, "SEUNGMIN?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE LEE KNOW BIASED", now you were the one with the shocked face. "Lee know?! What makes you think that?!" You replied. He widened his eyes and his signature dimpled smile on his face, "your murderous personality"

You chuckled "wow. Okay but listen, by bias I just mean that seungmin is the one who catches my eye the most. I don't have a real bias because it just changes every 3 days. These days its been you in my mind all day" you covered your mouth and your eyes widened realizing what you'd just said.

He smirked at you, from what you could tell from the corner of your eye. He ruffled your hair, "awwwww that's cute, you love me that much". He was teasing you. In response you smacked his hand away. But, it just made the situation worse, he pushed you onto your back and hovered over you.

It turned into a fight of him trying to get his hands on your body as a way of teasing and you just yanking his hands away, though eventually it stopped when he stared at you with dark, lustful eyes.

His deep brown eyes stared back at you. Everything around you, erased. All you could see was him, and you. His veiny arms were around your head, pinning your body into the mattress.

Your eyes travelled down to his lips. It was as if his lips were pulling you in and you couldn't escape them. They were a soft shade of cherry red, and heart shaped. His bottom lip was tucked under his teeth.

Without even realizing how or when, you were centimeters close. His lips, still bringing you in, until both your lips finally touched and brought each other in for a slow, savory kiss.

He pulled back, getting confirmation that it was okay to go on further. You gave him an approval nod and smile, going in for another kiss. This time a more intimate and longing one.

Eventually, it turned into a full-on make out session. Your hands roaming eachothers body.

You both pulled away from lack of oxygen, and his left hand snaked around your thigh while he brought his lips closer to your inner thigh, gliding his soft lips up and down.

He left one or two hickeys along the process, making sure to mark his territory.

He inched closer and closer, until his face was less than a centimeter away from your heat. In a teasing motion, he lifted his long, slender fingers and traced your folds up and down through your soaked panties.

"so soaked for me, huh babygirl?" He said in a deep, raspy voice, making you even wetter than you already were. He knew the effect he had on you, and he used it to an advantage. He knew every single one of your kinks, every one of your turn-on's.

He eyes were on you the whole time, making sure you were okay with going further.

He teased you over and over again, you were starting to lose patience and he knew that. Nonetheless, you stared at him with doe eyes, knowing that'd drive him crazy.

Your panties to the side in seconds, while he slipped two fingers in, receiving a satisfied moan in return. Three thrusts and he pulled out, smirking at you. You whined and tried other devious tricks on him that you were sure would drive him insane. But damn did he have self control.

There was one trick you hadn't tried though. You'd always known he had a daddy kink, well who didn't—it's literally Chan we're talking about.

You put on a little pout and doe eyes for him, tilting your head. "Please, daddy?" You know that did it for him when he bit his lip and smirked even harder.

An unexpected slap to your ass caught you off guard. You gasped at the stinging pain. "Say it again, babygirl "

"p-please daddy?" A tear making its way down the side of your face.

Though he'd put up a cold persona, he'd made sure to not hurt you in anyway by slowly entering into your heat.

Your walls clenched around him and you wanted more. Patience long forgotten, all you wanted was his massive dick thrusting in and out of you at a godly pace.

And he fulfilled your desires, thrusting in and out of you, right as you adjusted to his length. His left hand wrapped around your neck tightly. You could barely breathe but he knew you so well, he knew it was one of your kinks.

You could feel the similar knot tie itself in your stomach, and within seconds that knot untied itself. You came together at the same time, staining the black sheets white.

He collapsed on top of you, while you ran your hand through his curls. You both laid in bed for a while until you regained your energy to go and shower.

Chan got up first, walking over to the bathtub and turning on the hot water. He made sure the water was the right temperature, and made his way towards you, carrying you bridal style. You giggled to yourself. "What's so funny" he asked with a small smile on his face. "Nothing, don't worry."

He laid you into the bathtub gently. He was walking back towards your bedroom, and damn did bro have a whole bakery back there (bet his back hurts from carrying the whole kpop industry and that humongous a-). Your eyes perked up at him and you asked "you're not getting in?". He stopped and looked back at you, "no, haha you can wash up first"

You got up and took one leg out of the bathtub, reaching for his hand. You pulled him down into the bathtub with you, water splashing everywhere.

He looked at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, "did you just try to drown me?". You giggled and responded, "hey I thought you could swim"

He put on a bland expression, trying to hide that smile that wanted to take over his face "yeah I'm gonna swim in like, half a foot of water"

Whether you were taking a bath, cuddling, or even at work, your bickering never stopped.

A/N: Wrote this at like 2 AM only cuz if I were to continue it later, it would be chilling in my drafts for years.

[little-diable]

Sunshine - Tommy Shelby (smut)

I don't know where this idea came from, but I'm in love with how this turned out, ngl. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tommy cross paths at war, he's hurt, and she's right there to help him. An inextricable bond begins to form, forcing them to stick together even as the war ends.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, mentions wounds and blood, friends to lovers

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 3k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

“You have to hold still, otherwise I won’t be able to clean your wound.” (Y/n) scolded him, bloody hands working on his side, carefully cleaning the bleeding wound. The soldier had his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes staring at the ceiling of the medical tent, trying to stop himself from moving around. 

Even though (y/n) tried her best to concentrate on his wound, she couldn’t help but look at him every now and then. He was awfully handsome, the blue eyes of his made him stand out amongst an endless seeming crowd of soldiers, unable to blend in with pupils that reflected so much and yet told so little, like waves rolling ashore, telling tales of people and places one would never stumble upon. She had seen him around every few days, though (y/n) had never dared to speak up, holding back from stealing any of his precious time, aware of the work he did in the dark. 

“Hold onto my arm.” (Y/n) whispered her words, forcing him to look at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “This will sting, I rather have you holding onto me than you flinching away from the needle.” 

“I’ll behave, promise.” Even though he kept his voice emotionless, the soldier couldn’t stop his lips from taking on a soft smile. For a few seconds they held eye contact, trying to figure out what else they could say, wondering who’d give in first. But before another reply could roll off (y/n)’s tongue, his hand began to move, calloused fingertips stroking her arm. Goosebumps began to cover her skin, rising on her arms like hail falling from the sky, covering the ground. 

“I’ll be quick, promise, soldier.” A soft chuckle left the man who wasn’t known as a gleeful soul amongst his fellow soldiers, and yet it seemed like she was the sunshine following a week full of rain and dark clouds, the one to pull him out of his misery.

……

“Cigarette?” She held it out for him, watching him reach for it, carefully, calculated almost. With his eyes fluttering close he deeply inhaled, allowing her to marvel at him as he freed the blue smoke from his nostrils. “How’s your side?”

“Better than ever, sunshine.” The nickname left her tensing, filled with a biting heat she wasn’t able to swallow. Ever since the day he had stumbled into the medical tent, begging her to take care of his bleeding wound, he had started calling her sunshine, the rays of heat that seemed to brighten his days whenever he crossed paths with (y/n). 

“Don’t lie to me, Tommy, you know I can see right through it.” It was true, he couldn’t tell how and why, but she seemed to be the only one who could see through the cold facade he had built around him, trying to keep to himself. He was plagued by nightmares, struggling to keep on breathing when the nights grew as dark as the underground tunnels he was moving through whenever he had to. And yet everything seemed to fade away whenever she appeared.

“No lies, it’s the truth. Tell me, what will you do once this nightmare is over? Return to your family, your husband, eh?” He took another drag before he stretched his hand out, allowing her to take the cigarette back. (Y/n) pondered over his words for a few seconds, unable to reply as her mouth grew dry and her jaw muscles started tensing. 

“No family, no husband, it’s just me.” Her eyes found her hands, watching her fingers fumble with the dress she had to wear, the dirty white fabric that desperately needed a good wash. Two of his fingers found her chin, tilting her head upwards once again, blue eyes finding hers like a bullet perfectly piercing through its target. 

“If we survive this, I’ll take you home with me, you won’t be alone again, I promise.”

……

It is true what they say, war changes people, those that once entered the fight with brave hearts and proud smiles, ready to fight for their country, returned with broken hearts and chapped lips, no longer ready to put the horror they’ve lived through into words. It hadn’t been any different for Tommy Shelby nor his family members, those that woke with muddy cheeks every single day, and those that waited at home, patiently watching the days turn into weeks. 

But even though the Tommy Shelby who returned back home could no longer wear the same smile he had once mastered perfectly, he hadn’t been able to allow darkness to consume every single fibre of his body, all thanks to her, his sunshine, his (y/n).

Ever since that day in the medical tent, (y/n) had found herself dreaming of his lips, of his hands, of the way he could touch her, mere dreams that never turned real. Tommy treated her like he’d treat his wife, and yet he never crossed that one last, invisible line keeping their friendship from turning into a romantic relationship. He kept his distance, a distance she oh so desperately wanted to minimise, and yet couldn’t. 

“(Y/n)?” Tommy’s voice echoed through his office, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, piercing eyes focused on the letter he was holding in his hands. His ears listened to the sound of approaching steps, while his eyes didn’t meet hers once, too focused on the words he kept rereading.

“Tell me, what do you think of Winston Churchill?” Only as (y/n) came to a halt next to him, taking the letter from his hands did Tommy dare to look at her. He leaned back, watching her read the lines, carefully as if her and his life depended on it. She was too focused on the letter to notice the glint of his piercing eyes, the way he admired her like he was admiring the most expensive piece of an art gallery, an invaluable treasure.

“Deals with politicians, are you sure of it, Tommy? They don’t speak the same language we do.” A raspy chuckle left Tommy as he lit his cigarette, hand finding her wrist to pull her into his lap. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her gasp from rumbling through her, not used to being touched like this. Their eyes didn’t break contact, clinging to one another as if they were scared that they’d lose one another in an ever growing crowd. 

“The only thing I need from him is to understand the fucking words I’m speaking, should be plenty enough, don’t you think, sunshine?” It had been years since he had first used the nickname, but (y/n) was still not used to it, unable to stop her teeth from leaving marks on her lower lip as she averted her gaze, watching his fingers fumble with the cigarette he was smoking. 

“Promise you’ll shoot first if you get into any trouble, I can’t have you die on me any time soon.” She whispered her words, smiling as he pressed his forehead against her temple. For a few seconds Tommy allowed the two to relish in one another’s company, clinging to the calm silence that wrapped them in a warm embrace. 

“Be careful, one may think you actually enjoy having me around, sunshine.”

……

No sounds filled the night as (y/n) found herself staring at the ceiling of her room, clinging onto the blanket keeping her warm. It had been minutes since Polly had entered the house, guided towards Tommy’s office, finding shelter in the room (y/n) had been in numerous times before. 

For the past minutes she had wondered what Tommy and Polly were speaking about – deals, money, guns? Whatever it was, (y/n) couldn’t help but fear for Tommy’s life, the one that had taken her in, returning home with her clinging to his side. He had taught her everything he could share, every insight into the business he kept building, he shared it all with her, trusting her more than his family members. 

Her naked feet met the ground as she rose from her bed, arms wrapped around herself. She was careful not to make any noises, not wanting to gain Polly's or Tommy’s attention, too curious for her own good. Slowly (y/n) came to a halt in front of the office, holding her breath as she tried to listen to the conversation. 

“Be careful, before you ruin this for yourself, Tommy. You need a woman, a wife, not a shadow like her. I can see it in her eyes, the girl loves you, let her go before you drag her down with you.” Hurt filled (y/n)’s veins, heart clenching in her chest. She had always known that Tommy would eventually have to marry, and yet, deep down she had hoped that one day he’d choose her. 

“I rather live with her by my side, than not have her around at all. I won’t let her go.” A sharp breath was inhaled into (y/n)’s lungs, unable to bite down her smile. God, she’d walk to the end of this very world for Tommy, would dig graves six feet down with her own bare hands if he’d ask her to. He was her end and her beginning, the rising and setting of the ever moving moon. 

“My god, Thomas. If you love her this much, do something about it, for all our sakes.” The sound of shoes meeting the ground forced (y/n) away from the door, hurrying back to her room before they could notice her. Her heart was pounding, shooting heat through her veins, for the first time since crossing paths with Tommy, she had heard him putting the way he felt towards her into words, forcing a new wave of hope through her system. 

(Y/n) gave it a few minutes before she left the room again, making her way back down the hallway, eyes set on the now open door. 

“It's not good for you to stay up this late, one day you’ll work yourself to death.” Her tired voice filled his office, naked feet patting against the ground. With a tired sigh spilling from his lips, Tommy turned towards (y/n), drinking in the sight of her sleeping gown. Her warm hands found his glasses, carefully setting them down on his desk before she placed herself on his thighs, a bold movement that left the man smiling, hand finding the small of her back almost instinctively. (Y/n) found herself urged on by her newfound hope, by the confidence now swimming in her blood. 

“What are you doing awake this late?” Neither of them dared to move, enjoying their touches, the warmth that radiated off one another. Tommy’s thumb stroked the soft fabric of her gown, setting her skin on fire with every movement.

“I couldn’t sleep, I knew I’d find you still awake.” His chuckles left her heart skipping beats, urging her on to do what she had been dreaming of doing ever since she had met him in that tent. (Y/n) gave it a few more seconds, struggling to give herself the final push before she oh so slowly crossed the distance between them, lips ghosting over his. Tommy pulled her even closer, hands holding onto her waist, not daring to let her go as they deepened the kiss. 

His tongue moved along her lower lip, begging for entrance, not ready to break the kiss just yet. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, trembling on his thighs as an unfamiliar wave of heat flushed through her, shooting right down her spine. Soft moans left the two, wordlessly communicating what they wanted to do, what they wanted to feel, and how they needed to be touched. 

“Tell me, sunshine,” his raspy voice left her gasping, swollen lips aching to feel his again. “How much of the conversation with Polly did you hear?” 

(Y/n) didn’t dare ask him how he knew that she had been eavesdropping, burying her face in the crook of his neck as another laugh left Tommy, big hand moving up and down her spine. 

“Enough to tell you that I love you.” The second he picked up on her whispers, Tommy’s hand stopped moving, letting the words sink in. Silence engulfed the two for a few moments, a silence so loud, (y/n) found herself lifting her head, wondering if his words had another meaning, if he didn't feel the same kind of love. 

“That day in the tent, I was convinced that I’d die. I spoke to a god I no longer look up to, but then you appeared, like a godsent gift. You saved me in more ways than you could think. Ever since that day I knew that I loved you, a love so pure it felt too good to be true, my sunshine, my (y/n).” Once again did (y/n) close the distance between them, kissing him as a fire began to simmer deep inside of her, eyes falling shut. 

Without another warning, Tommy rose to his feet, with (y/n) clinging to him. She was placed down on his desk, allowing him to stand between her thighs, hands disappearing beneath the soft fabric of her gown. (Y/n) found herself trembling against him, allowing Tommy to push the fabric up to her hips, exposing her naked heat. 

“Will you let me? I want to feel you, want to touch you like I should have already touched you all these months ago.” She could only nod, mouth too dry to reply. Carefully he brushed his fingers through her slit, collecting drops of her arousal he used to circle her bundle of nerves, leaving her moaning. (Y/n) had to hold onto his holster, scared that she’d fall back, unable to stop her body from giving into the pull of lust taking over her system. 

Tommy’s piercing eyes kept flickering between her lust drunken features and her heat, hoping that he could etch the sight into his mind. She was beautiful, too pure for him, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from blemishing her, from leaving his claim on the woman he intended to keep around till he’d bid this life goodbye. 

“Tommy,” she choked on his name as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, curling them against her swollen spot as his thumb kept circling her pulsing clit. “I want your cock, please, fuck me. Been dreaming of this for too long.” 

“I will, and I promise I’ll fuck you properly in my bed later, but for now this will have to do.” Her hazy mind couldn't spare his words any attention, but the promise of being touched by him again and again left her panting, eyes threatening to fall close. She watched him undo his trousers, freeing his hardening cock with skilled movements. He pumped himself a few times before he aligned himself with her tightness. 

One of her hands found his, interlacing their fingers before he pushed into her. Both needed a few moments to adjust to the sensation, inhaling heavy breaths. He started with slow thrusts, enjoying the new sensation both had been dreaming of for months, restless days where they couldn’t help but cling to their need for one another. 

“God, Tommy, I love you, don’t ever let me go.” (Y/n)‘s whines urged him on to kiss her, soothing the uneasiness filling her veins. He was right there, couldn’t and wouldn’t let her go, even if he had to.

“I once promised to take care of you, I never break my promises, sunshine.” Tommy began to pick up the speed of his thrusts, letting go of her hand to find his way back to her pulsing bundle, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Both couldn’t help but thank their lucky stars, fate was finally on their side, allowing them to form a bond that reached deeper than those of soulmates made for one another. They were more, so much more.

“Feels so good, Tommy, so so good.” A newfound sense of pride filled his veins, spurring him on to make her cum right there and then. Her moans guided him on, begging Tommy to never stop fucking her, to leave his marks on her body for curious eyes to see.

She was his, as much as he was hers. The sunlight to his ever growing darkness. The fleeting darkness to her ever growing sunshine. The light to defeat the dark. 

“Such a pretty sight for me, can feel you so close, let go for me.” His raspy voice rang in her ears like a siren going off, warning her of her inevitable fall. A fall that wouldn’t end with a harsh crash, caught by the loving arms she could call her home and shelter from now on.

Tommy watched her come undone, eyes squeezed shut, head rolling back. Her walls clenched his cock, begging him to follow her down the edge with moans rippling through her. Tommy needed a few more thrusts before he could give in, pulling out of her to release himself on her lower stomach.

“Never stop touching me, Tommy.” Her whispers left him chuckling, forehead pressed against hers as his hand found her neck, a possessive grip that left her walls clenching once again.

“I promise, sunshine, I promise.”

[yandere-writer-momo]

Rent-a-girlfriend

Part 3: Katsumi Orochi

Yandere Baki various x Afab reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

…………………………………………………..

Katsumi ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed. What on earth was he going to do? He told his parents he had a girlfriend so they’d get off his back about getting married…

Was it desperate of him to pay for a rental girlfriend? What if his parents caught on to his lie?

Katsumi waited at the small cafe to meet up with his date. His heart beating erratically in his chest as he started overthinking. What if she didn’t show up? What if she bailed on him and now he was out of all that money… jeez.

Katsumi looked up and his breath hitched when he saw (your name). Her hair was down in soft waves and she wore a white midi dress. She was lovely…

(Your name) approached Katsumi with a soft smile. She gave him a wave and giggled when his whole face turned red. What a cutie.

“Hello. I’m (your name).” (Your name) introduced herself to Katsumi who took her hand in his. Katsumi was amazed by how soft and small her hand was compared to his large, callused one.

“I-I’m Katsumi.” Katsumi introduced himself with a stutter. He cursed under his breath for being so nervous. He’s been so busy training that he neglected dating and talking to girls. Now she probably thought he was a loser…

“So what are all the things I need to know before I meet your parents?” (Your name) softly l asked as she took a seat beside him. Katsumi flushing a bit in the face at the question.

“I’m 25 and we’ve been dating for a few months.” Katsumi muttered. “My parents really want me to get married and have children so I lied and said I had a girlfriend…”

“I can play my part.” (Your name) smiled warmly at him. Katsumi’s heart fluttered as butterflies exploded in his chest. She was so beautiful… it was a shame she was just a fake girlfriend…

“Thank you, I appreciate this…” Katsumi held her hand in his, his cheeks pink. “My parents can be a little bit embarrassing so I hope you don’t mind them.”

“Not at all. I’m sure I can handle it.” (Your name) replied smoothly.

Just how embarrassing could they possibly be?

.

.

.

(Your name) was surprised to be pulled into a tight hug by an older Japanese woman the moment she walked through the door. The woman was thrilled out of her mind to see her.

“My goodness! You must be (your full name)!” Katsumi’s mother, Natsue, beamed at her. “We’ve heard so much about you from Katsumi and we’re so happy to finally meet you! It took us ages to get your name out of his mouth! I’m Orochi Natsue and that’s my husband Doppo, but you can call us Mom and Dad!”

(Your name) smiled at Natsue. Goodness. It seems Katsumim was not lying… his parents were a bit much. Poor guy.

She was then pulled into a hug by a muscular bald man named Doppo. The older man smiling warmly at her.

“Where did he meet someone as pretty as you?” Doppo jokes. “Or did he snatch you up with his boyish god looks? He learned that technique from his old man.”

Katsumi choked on his spit. The karateka wrapping an arm around (your name)’s waist to pull her away from his dad. “Hey. That’s enough.”

“We’ve been worried sick about our son since he takes his karate training so seriously… he hasn’t had time for girls.” Natsue shares. “We were worried his still a vir-“

“Mother!” (Your name) put her hand over his lips to prevent herself from laughing at how cute Katsumi’s blush was. This poor guy… she felt so bad for him.

(Your name) gave Katsumi’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She gave his parents a smile. “Katsumi is a wonderful boyfriend. You raised him well.”

Katsumi blushed, his dark eyes focused on her bright smile. She was gorgeous… it was a shame she wasn’t really his girlfriend.

Dinner went by without a hitch. His parents cracking jokes here and there to make (your name) laugh. It was when Katsumi’s mother brought out the photo album that Katsumi swatted her away.

“Stop! She doesn’t need to see those!” Katsumi whined while (your name) laughed at his expense. His mother showing him baby pictures.

“I asked his biological mother for these and aren’t they precious?! Look at his chubby little cheeks!” Natsue cooed as she pointed at the pictures of a chubby baby Katsumi. Even then, he still had such majestic eyebrows.

“Katsumi, you never told me you were such a cute baby!” (Your name) joked, her eyes twinkling in mischief. Katsumi’s whole face flushed red in embarrassment. This guy had to be the cutest one she’s ever been on a date with… he was so precious.

“Don’t tease me too! Whose side are you on?” Katsumi felt his heart race at how joyful (your name)’s expression was as she interacted with his mom. His mom pointing out all of her favorite pictures to (your name). Katsumi didn’t realize how well she fit in… like it was natural for her. It was like she was truly his girlfriend…

“I’m sorry, babe. But you were so cute!” (Your name) smiled brightly at him. She pointed to a picture of him with his tiny foot in his mouth. “I can’t get over how you still have those majestic eyebrows. They must have been a strong gene.”

Katsumi downcast his gaze from her soft expression. He was going to melt into a puddle at this point. Katsumi has never felt this way before… a shame his parents noticed too. The older Orochi’s having Cheshire grins on their faces at the young couple.

“So when is the marriage?” Natsue joked, Doppo putting his hand on her shoulder with a nod.

“We’re not getting any younger so when is marriage and when are the grand kids-“

“We are leaving!” Katsumi jumped to his feet and scooped (your name) up in his arms. “Stop embarrassing me.”

The older couple laughed at the young couple’s expense. Natsue held Doppo’s hand as they watched Katsumi and (your name) walk out the door.

“Remember when we were like that?” Natsue asked Doppo softly, Doppo smiled.

“Of course I do. We still are.” Doppo pressed a kiss to Natsue’s head. The couple then cleaning up the table.

.

.

.

Katsumi carried (your name) out onto the street a ways until they were a few blocks from his parent’s house.

“I’m so terribly sorry about them. I didn’t think they’d jump right on that ship.” Katsumi apologized with a bow. (Your name) held his hand in hers to give him reassurance.

“You’re perfectly okay. Sometimes parents can be a bit much.” (Your name) gave his hand an affectionate squeeze. “They seem to love you a lot. Almost as much as they love babies.”

Katsumi and her share a laugh. The karateka blushing a bit more in the face. She was so beautiful and genuine… he felt as if he didn’t deserve her affection. Even if it was fake, it all felt so real…

“Say, how about I take you somewhere since we still have some time together?” Katsumi asked. He admired how small her hand was in his. Her daintiness was attractive to him.

“I’d love that. What are you thinking?” (Your name) smiled warmly at Katsumi. Katsumi gave her a wink in response.

“It’s a surprise.” The two walked off hand in hand. The karateka taking her to a little ice cream stand. “It’s not nearly as sweet as you but I thought it’d be a nice treat.”

(Your name) smiled at his flirtation. Out of all the men she has been on these rental dates with, Katsumi was pure boyfriend material. So far he was the whole package. She was amazed a man of his caliber didn’t have women lining up for him.

“I think you’re the sweet one.” (Your name) flirts back. She might have the tiniest crush on him. How could she not? He had a good family life, a stable job, he was active, he was handsome, easy to talk to, funny, and so sweet… maybe she’d for real date this guy… who knows.

She was still debating going back to the states to see her old beau. She wondered if that cocky guy missed her.

Katsumi and her walked side by side while they enjoyed their ice cream.

“It’s hard to believe you’re on the market.” (Your name) tells him. “You’re the whole package. You’re perfect.”

Katsumi blushed with a smile. “You really think so?”

“You’ve been nothing short of a gentleman and I really enjoyed my time with you. Even though your parents are a little crazy.” Katsumi laughs with a bright smile.

“Grand baby fever is a hell of a thing.” Katsumi finds himself staring at her lips in thought. He wanted to kiss her…

(Your name) smiled up at Katsumi. “Our time is about to come to an end. Would you be a doll and walk me to the subway station?”

“I’d love to.” Katsumi tells her softly. The karateka holding out his arm for her to take. “Shall I escort you, my lady?”

(Your name) snorted at the nickname. “What are you? A dweeb?”

“Maybe I’m a weirdo.” Katsumi wiggles his brows at her which caused her to laugh so hard, her chest hurt.

“Maybe you are.” (Your name) instead took his hand in hers. “But I like it.”

Katsumi trembled and bit his lip. The karateka pulling her body close to his with a sigh. This felt like a real date. This all felt real… perhaps he’d book her again?

“I never do this and I’m not supposed to but…” (your name) nervously smiled up at Katsumi. “Can I give you my number?”

The two both turned red in the face before they looked away. Katsumi muttered a yes.

Katsumi pulled his hand from hers to hand her his phone with a shaky hand. (Your name) typed her number in with a smile. She handed it back to him with a smirk.

Katsumi rose a brow at her. “Why did you put a star beside your name?”

“Because I’m a star.” (Your name) nodded her head at him which caused him to laugh.

“Okay. I can see that.”

The two of them joked the entire way back to the subway. Occasionally bumping into each other in a playful manner.

This was the best date she’s ever had… a shame she had no idea what she’s just gotten herself into… there was a reason Katsumi was still single…

.

.

.

(Your name) dreamily sighed when she walked into her apartment. Her phone screen lit up a light, pastel pink with an oh so familiar notification.

ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍɪ ʜᴀꜱ ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ 5 ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ 30% ᴛɪᴘ! ʜᴏᴏʀᴀʏ!

(Your name) smiled warmly at the notification. She adored Katsumi so far. The karateka already sent her a good night text too… what a gentleman. She was happy to bank out so much money tonight and find a potential boyfriend. A win is a win.

(Your name) stretched her arms with a content sigh, she placed her phone on her bedside table to charge. (Your name) then slipped out of her clothes and headed towards the shower. It was time to call it a night.

Another notification lit up her screen while she was in the bathroom.

ʙᴀᴋɪ ʜᴀɴᴍᴀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏɴᴅᴀʏ ᴇᴠᴇɴɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ! ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ?

ʏᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ɴᴏ?

[shslbunnylover]

★★★𝙇𝙤𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 (𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮 2: 𝙊𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙭)★★★

Character: Larissa Weems

Tag list: @inlovewithgreta

Trigger warnings (DL, DNI): Semi-public sex, smut, orgasm denial, boss x employee dynamics, legal age gap

Genre: Smut

Word count: 2.1k

...

...

"So, Y/n, do you want to finally speak up and explain what was going on with you during the meeting today? Hm?" Larissa asked seductively as she rubbed her long red nails up and down her thigh, walking around her office as her voice perfectly harmonized with the sounds of her heels hitting the wooden floor.

Her voice was a pure melody in your ear, as tempting as the snake was to Eve. Unresistable, almost as if she had magic from the devil himself. If she said sit you would do so without hesitation. If she asked you to do the most lewd or the most wholesome things, you'd do it. Because she had you wrapped around her finger like a dog to leash.

You only responded with silence, lowering your head as you tried your hardest to not look at the beautiful woman that had already turned you into a blushing mess.

"Speak up sweetheart...I need to hear that pretty voice telling me what's going on with you?" The older woman said again, a stern tone slowly filling her voice as she bent over her desk, giving you a full shot of her perfect cleavage.

"M-Miss Weems...I-I apologize for my quiet behavior, I must have just been more fatigued than usual," You replied formally, swallowing your fear and crush on the older woman and looking up at her in the eyes.

The white-haired woman sat back down on her black leather office chair, crossing her legs as she raised a curious eyebrow. You knew such miniscule actions shouldn't result in your libido being driven off the roof like never before...but that's just what this woman did to you. A magnet pulling you towards her beautiful body this woman was, and you had no idea how to block the attraction.

"Ah...I see, and it...didn't have anything to do with me or any of your coworkers?" She asked, concerning taking place of the former stern tone that was once evident in her vocals.

"No ma'am..." You lied,

The meeting was normal, and there wasn't supposed to be anything special going on. The problem was when Larissa came in wearing a beautiful dress with a V-Cut that showed off her beautiful chest and gave you a glimpse of her breasts. It gave you such anxiety, you had always had a crush on the older woman thanks to how sweet and seductive she was, but this only made this worse. It's almost like the dress she had worn accentuated not just her body but everything that enchanted you about Larissa. The way her ruby lips formed into that iconic smirk, the way she let petnames slide off of her tongue as easily as she wanted them too, everything.

"Hm...You know I don't like liars...right sweetheart?" Larissa asked, leaning on her desk slightly as she traced her pointer finger across the slight ridges of the wood.

"Yes ma'am, I know you don't like liars," You muttered, biting your lip as your eyes darted away from the beautiful goddess-like woman across from you.

The full sentences and complete answers were odd, and Larissa recognized that. It wasn't only what added into her suspicion of you and your feelings, but it also feed into her own desires she had been having since she first saw you.

When she first saw the way your knees were highlighted by your skirt beautifully grazing over them as soft as a summer wind hitting a tree, she had already decided that she wanted those knees on the ground, amd your pretty little mouth begging for release.

"So try again, I want a full answer," She demanded, her fingers flexing sensually as they began to grip at the ridges tightly, gripping it as tightly as you would wanher to grip your neck.

You sighed as a reply, looking down once again at your lap, internally cursing yourself out for how soaked you were in your underwear.

"Your outfit," You managed to choke out despite your obvious flustered demeanor. "I don't want to seem rude...but it just distracted me so much. You looked so beautiful I just couldn't stop looking," You confessed, causing Larissa to blush with a smirk creeping up onto her lips.

"Oh my~" She chuckled, standing up and leaning over her desk once again before gripping your collar with one of her beautiful and slender hands. "So it was someone in the meeting room?" Larissa smirked, biting her lip before speaking up again.

"Do you like me sweetheart~?" She teased, a hint of sincerity in her voice still there.

Her blue eyes bore into your own, sending you into a trance as your legs trembled, you blushed furiously as if that was enough of an answer. You swallow in a nervous manner, looking at the woman holding your collar through hooded eyes as to not lose all of your composure, despite that line being crossed minutes ago.

"Yes Ma'am," You stuttered out, your beautiful (skin color) cheeks breaking out in a rose-colored blush.

And that's when in one swift motion, Larissa quickly walked over at bent you across the desk, your head resting on your now folded arms.

"So..." She said softly yet so seductively as her regal British accent left goose bumps across your whole body. "I think there's something you want from me, do you want me to give it to you?" Larissa asked, making sure to get your consent before continuing with her actions.

You nodded, a pleading whimper escaping your beautiful lips as a way of begging Larissa to touch you.

"I need words sweetheart, full sentences just like you had before," The older woman cooed, stroking your thighs as her middle finger slid through your underwear and slightly tugging on it before it snapped back onto your wet pussy, causing you to whimper.

"Yes Larissa! Please! I need you!" You begged, eyes shutting in anticipation as small and pleading whimpers escaped your throat, only making your more embarrassed that you had now finally revealed all your hidden feelings.

The older woman's left hand slid to your left ass cheek, gripping it hard enough to leave marks from where her red nails dug into your beautiful skin. Her right hand swiftly swiped away your panties and she stuck them in her blazers breast pocket, your body becoming laced with another layer of goose bumps as you felt the cool office air hit your aching and wet cunt.

It was only then you realized where you where, you were still in an office in your place of employ, and it scared you, but it also had ended up managing to turn you on twice as much as any amount of fear of being caught.

"L-Larissa~" You whimpered, only to be met with both of the older woman's hands gripping even harder at your sensitive thighs than they were with your ass.

"Try again sweetling~" The white-haired woman cooed, her tongue grazing the outskirts of your pussy, collecting a couple of large drops of your juices that had fallen from your hole.

"Sorry Ma'am..." You mewled, bucking your hips up just a little as to get some kind of relief.

At the feeling of your hips moving, the older woman couldn't take the anticipation anymore.

She quickly buried her face in your leaking cunt, tongue flicking at your clit as the feeling of pleasure shot through your body, making you moan loudly. The obscene slurping and licking sounds that emerged from your thighs echoing into your ears.

"Mmm...that's what I thought...you've always given me those lusty looks~" Larissa teased, continuing to eat you out as she gripped your thighs like she was using them as handlebars.

"M-Ma'am please~! I've been thinking about you buried in my legs for months, please just a-ah~!!!" You cried, your back arching up as your legs trembled from the pleasure the taller woman gave you using just her tongue.

God the way the woman played with your body, using you like a doll only to be used for, it was just so hot.

"Yes, that's true...but you did lie to me...didn't you sweetheart? So why should I, a respectable boss, reward a naughty employee...?" The taller woman sighed in fake sympathy, eyes filling with sadistic delight as she removed her mouth from your poor wet pussy.

"B-But! I only lied because I thought you'd hate me if I told you, you could've told me your feelings as well!" You protested, legs trembling more than they ever had when you had your own hand in your wet pussy all those lonely nights, dreaming of the taller woman fucking you into pure submission.

Larissa chuckled darkly into your ear as she bent over you, caressing with her hand as her other one fondled with your tits. Her sickenly sweet voice oozing with as much malic and dominance it did lust and care for you.

"Now, now, baby doll... That's not how we speak to our boss is it?" She asked, cutting you off with more dirty talk before you could even utter a syllable of your defense out. "I've given you plenty of hints, giving you my number, flirting with you, but yet I didn't say anything? How does that make any sense?" Larissa asked in a condescending tone, living little nibbles and lipstick marks across your neck as she unbuttoned your blazer, tossing it carelessly.

You internally curses yourself at the realization that Larissa was in fact right, she couldn't have been anymore obvious with her feelings towards you! Yet you knew you were too blinded by the illusion that the woman was such a goddess that she wouldn't know you existed, much less have romantic or sexual feelings towards you.

"It doesn't ma'am," You sigh with a shaky voice, biting your lip in anticipation for her to start teasing your or even spanking you.

Larissa only manages to leave three hickeys on your neck in response to your increasing submission for her, leaving you even more needy for her to speak, for her beautiful voice to fill your ears.

"Y'know...I would punish you for being such a naughty little teacher and being all riled up for your boss in her own office...but that body of yours is so damn hot," She purred, sliding herself back down to where you needed her most, licking long strides into your spongy yet soaking wet sex.

You buried your head into your crossed arms, moans choking out of your throat as your most sensitive spots of your body was pleasured by the woman you had loved for so long.

"Mmm...oh you're such a sweet thing, you're already so close?" Larissa asked, the vibrations from her seductive voice shooting more pleasure towards your clit.

You nod, not even needing Larissa to demand you to beg for your release.

"Please Miss! I won't be a liar and I'll be good! Please I've been waiting for you to be inside of me for months! Please! I'll do whatever you want!!" You screamed in ecstacy, eyes rolling back into your head as your hands gripped at the wooden edges of the desk you weren't currently being bent over and fucked mindlessly on.

The moment she heard you begging without her telling you to beg, Larissa knew she wanted you to cum as much as you did.

"C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, cum for your boss whom you lust over," She smirked devilishly, eyes narrowing as she sped up her tounges movement, only to be met with your eventual white and sticky release fluids.

You whimpered out your high, bucking your hips into Larissa's mouth as your body relaxes, trembling slightly.

The taller woman unexpectedly picks you up before sitting on her desk chair, her strong hands holding your body perfectly as you unintentionally relax into her warm figure.

"Thank you 'Rissa..." You mumbled, kissing the white-haired woman's cheeks softly as you caress her hand that wasn't soaked in your release.

"It's no problem sweetheart, now do me a favor and clean my fingers off, they got a little...dirty after you came everywhere," Larissa chuckled devilishly, to which you eagerly began to suck all the cum off of her beautiful fingers.

It was embarrassing licking your own cum off of your boss's fingers and you knew it, but at this moment in time, you felt safe to do such embarrassing things. The way she treated you after being so rough with you only locked in your love for the taller woman, you didn't care about any consequences and neither did Larissa, why would you two? Larissa would certianly loss her job for a person as beautiful as you, and she'd honestly prefer to do things like this in places where you guys could get caught, then everyone would see who you truly belonged to.

[ayeforscotland]

(tw: discussions of rape, child sexual abuse)

the person who said "mixed reaction to baldur's gate 3 in þe "people i respect þe critical opinion of" community" said they were referring to lily orchard. if im understanding them correctly - i hope im not - theyre saying they respect lily's critical opinion on things, which with all due respect, you should not. Lily's consumption of media is almost exclusively animated shows for children, disney movies and marvel, and she has warped ideas on what media "has" to be, including having little conflict, never using slurs and such.

She wrote MLP fanfiction that glorified child abuse, it was based on her raping her younger sister before she transitioned, as she had been sexually abused as a child herself. Her sister, Courtney Peet, came out with the full story and while it is very much word of mouth vs word of mouth, Lily herself has went on record saying she wrote the fanfic, titled "Stockholm". She claims to be Native American and draws her persona much darker than her actual skin, as her sister has proven. Presumably to allow herself to complain about all the "white character praising" in kids' cartoons without people able to point out that SHE is white, which she often complains about. She also slandered Rebecca Sugar, a Jewish person, claiming they wrote themes supporting Nazism in Steven Universe, and insists that artists cannot write stories well, which is why SU was a badly written show, as the storyboard artists worked on the story. Her critical thinking skills are very low.

In other words, don't worry about her opinions on Baldur's Gate 3. And I'm a bit concerned about people attacking Courtney if they read this so just fyi I'm not saying this to cause drama, just to inform you that Lily Orchard's opinion on that game should be discarded for a number of reasons. So you dont have to reply to this or anything, and I hope I havent bothered you by saying any of this.

I don't usually engage in online drama but Lily Orchard is my one exception as I started watching her a while back and thought she maybe had some good points, until I learned she made up things about the shows she covered and the people that worked on them, then learned about the awful stuff she did and lies about. There's a ton more discourse I don't think is worth getting into.

Good grief. Happy for this to be the first and last time I hear of this person.

[softmangoes]

one wish | joseph x reader

18+ only | for @lichilly (thank you for being so sweet!)

author's note: if you liked this, please check out my ongoing pre-canon SDJ fic!

_

there was a knock at the door.

"it's open," joseph called as he looked at himself in the mirror, making sure to rub off a stray patch of paint the makeup team managed to miss.

after a moment, you slipped in, closing the door behind you with a click. you had one hand behind your back - a sure sign that you had some kind of surprise in mind.

"don't tell me it's another script revision," he groaned. it had taken him hours to memorize the newest song for the next episode and his fingers were sore from all the strumming. "i don't think i can handle any more."

but you simply smiled in that easy way that always made him want to turn away. it was just so gentle, that smile. it was softer than anything he had ever deserved.

"you didn't tell me it was your birthday today," you said. "i had to find out through dan."

goddamn daniel. his castmate was a good guy, but he had a big mouth.

"i'm not into parties." they were too loud. crowded. he had never been one to want to be the center of attention.

"i didn't say there had to be a party," you replied, taking your hand from behind your back to reveal what you had been hiding.

in your palm was a large cupcake topped with a fluffy white frosting and a smattering of sprinkles. a red candle had been stuck in the middle of it.

you pulled out a lighter and with a few quick flicks of your thumb, lit the short wick.

"it can be just us," you said, eyes glowing as the flame flickered in your palm.

joseph had never had anyone celebrate him for any reason at all, let alone the day he came into existence, but he was aware of what he had to do. "you want me to make a wish?"

"anything you want," you beamed.

"anything i want," he repeated, inhaling to loosen the tightness in his chest.

in truth, there was only one wish he had. it was a wish he would tell himself as he lied awake at night staring at the ceiling of his motel room, it was a wish he'd hum as he learned each new song, it was a wish that he only ever confessed he had in the quiet of his solitude.

and here you were, now. with him. as if all those days and nights had built up to this very moment.

joseph took in a breath. you were so beautiful. ever since he had met you, he never had the courage to tell you that.

tentatively, he placed his hands over yours, craned his neck lower so that his mouth was near the bright flame, and blew.

"what was the wish?" you asked as the smoke curled into the air. after a moment, you set the cupcake onto his desk.

he hesitated. "it's bad luck if i tell you, isn't it?"

"not if it's a secret," you said, a smile curling at the corner of your mouth. "but i really would like to know."

joseph swallowed. what could he say to that?

"do you really want to know?" he asked, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

"tell me."

he paused. "close your eyes, then."

you obeyed, clasping your hands behind your back.

thoughts raced through his head, a buzz of static that threatened to overwhelm him. he could stop this. he could turn you away. he could deny himself this moment, as he did with all of the others.

he inhaled, cool air filling his lungs, before he took your face in his hands and kissed you.

it was a soft kiss. a gentle kiss. a kiss that asked if all of this was okay, if he could want you like this.

and it was okay, because you brought your own hands to his face, ran your fingers through his hair as you pulled him towards you.

your lips were so warm, so soft. if he could, he would wish for this moment to never end.

"there," he said, face burning as he pulled away. "i told you."

when you smiled this time, it was full of so much affection that it made his heart swell.

"tell me more," you said, pressing a kiss along his jaw and curling a finger at his collar. "please? it's your birthday, after all."

[the-wintry-mizzenmast]

笛花 Dihua/Feihua prompt fill for @dharjeeling Still on the topic of @lyselkatz's post-canon fanart of silver-haired Li Lianhua and bearded A-Fei.

[When Di Feisheng finally woke up, Li Lianhua's hair was so lily white. But he was standing, his cheeks flushed with life, and Di Feisheng would do it all over again.]

-----

When Di Feisheng finally wakes up, sunlight is already streaming through the windows of Lotus Tower. He pushes himself up to his elbows, and the motion catches Li Lianhua’s attention. The old fox hurries over to the side of the bed from where the congee has been simmering in the kitchen.

It smells like congee now, like something that an ordinary person might actually want to eat, instead of reeking of noxious fumes like a medicinal warehouse that’s been set on fire. It’s a sign that Li Lianhua’s senses are returning, that he can smell and taste again, that what the Bicha poison took from him is slowly being restored. 

The light captures Li Lianhua’s silver hair as he stands at Di Feisheng’s side, framing his benevolent features with the radiance of a bodhisattva. The next thing that comes out of his mouth, however,  shatters that illusion. 

“You went too hard last night, A-Fei. I don’t approve.” 

Di Feisheng wants to tell him there’s no such thing as going too hard, that the way Li Lianhua’s cheeks are flushed with life and vitality prove that more than anything, but it’s too early in the day for such melancholy sentiment. 

So he says instead, “I know my limits,” and before his husband can protest, he adds, “and I know yours too.”

Li Lianhua purses his lips. “I’ll get you some food. You know, you’re lucky I can walk today,” he mutters, as if that’s his chief concern, and not the fact that every time they dual cultivate, Di Feisheng uses up a little more of his internal energy to dissolve what remains of the Bicha. Li Lianhua doesn’t like it, but how Di Feisheng chooses to use his internal energy is not for him to say. 

It has taken almost two years for them to get here, for the majority of the poison to be cleansed, and it may take another two to five before it is driven out completely. Li Lianhua’s hair has turned completely white, and Di Feisheng already has a lock of white at his temple. Li Lianhua plays with it often, curling it around his finger, or paying it extra attention when he brushes his hair. Di Feisheng knows that he may also go completely silver before the last of the Bicha is gone, but he takes it as a sign that they will remain together well into the white hairs of old age, as the expression goes. The thought pleases him. 

They sit down at the table together, Di Feisheng’s bowl filled almost to the brim, Li Lianhua’s own only half full. 

“I’ve already eaten,” he explains. 

Di Feisheng stares at his own husband with a faint frown, but then picks up his spoon and digs in. He can tell when Li Lianhua is lying—the subtle shift in his voice and gaze, the flex in his fingers—the old fox isn’t lying right now. 

There’s a rule that Fang Duobing set when all this all started—when you eat at Lotus Tower, you eat together. It means that Li Lianhua has had to eat whenever they do, has to snack whenever they snack. It’s gradually put some meat back on those skinny fox bones, and Di Feisheng is thankful that Fang Duobing had the good sense to make up that rule and then enforce it.

Li Lianhua reaches forward, and Di Feisheng thinks there must be a fleck of rice stuck in his beard. Instead, Li Lianhua takes his chin and strokes a thumb through the short, rough hairs there. 

“You’re getting a bit of white in here too,” he says.

That’s news to him, but Di Feisheng finds he doesn't mind. “It matches the hair,” he replies and shoots Li Lianhua an easy, reassuring smile. For all that Li Lianhua is an old fox, sometimes he is afraid—of wanting too much, of Di Feisheng is sacrificing too much, of being undeserving of whatever he receives. The fear rears its head less and less as the Bicha recedes, when Li Lianhua can see that he is needed and he is loved, and that not all of the ills of the world were born from the hubris of his youth.

There is a long road yet ahead of them, and it is precisely because of that that if Di Feisheng were given the choice, he would do it all over again. He wants to walk this road with Li Lianhua, and Li Lianhua only. 

They finish their meal, and there is much to do before the day is done—dishes to wash, floors to sweep, a whole field of golden wangchuan flowers to tend to. They get up, and set about the chores, together. 

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro: is here

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei

capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occure in time, also I am running out of pictures of P he looks the same in every pic (but prettily so)

[Also, I am gonna be like that and mention that I would not mind any comments or reblogs! This series is definitely gonna have short chapters and is currently building up settings but there's gonna be good ol yandere Pinocchio tailing after you like a puppy afterwards, no worries!]

There was a spot of slobber on your collar.

You tried to make yourself presentable as fast as possible as you ran down the stairs. The table you had fallen asleep onto was left in its messy state as you woke up.

There in the kitchen was Geppetto, cleaning his plate. He briefly turned to you. "Good morning," He began slowly before paying his attention back to the flowing water.

Your eyes darted to the table with bread and an omelette on a lone plate, alongside a water jar. Quickly, you took your seat. "Good morning, Uncle." Your attempt at sounding casual failed but he did not turn back to you. Ceasing your stare, you picked up your fork and began to eat. Clearing your throat, you remembered to thank your uncle.

"Early birds get the early worms and not cold meals." Geppetto replied as he finally made eye contact with you. "Sleep in your bed next time and not on the work table." With a full mouth, you nodded.

"Sorry about that, Uncle, there was just...this one discrepancy I had to fix." "Did you now?" Geppetto dried his hands and rose a brow. Again, you nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, about the butlers! Come, I'll show you! You'll have to leave soon, won't you?"

Brown eyes stared at your figure, bright eyes staring back at him and the corners of your full mouth dotted with crumbs. He sighed and shook his head, making his way to the hallway and gesturing you to follow.

Chugging down a glass of water, you hurried after. Cold egg tasted truly awful.

Hoisting one up on its feet, you tinkered a bit on its back. The sound of a button was heard and the puppet soon stood on its own. It's arm attempted to rese to its side in an 90° degree angle, thought stuttering and twitching on its way up. It stopped abruptly before the elbow could fully bend and its head did not fully turn to Geppetto.

"Good morning, sir!" The voice flew out of its speakers, "How may I serve you today?"

You eyed Geppetto with an swift and expectant smile. The latter briefly glanced at you with raised eyebrows. Then, he opened his mouth.

"I would like a glass of wine."

"Red wine or white wine?"

"White wine."

"Why, of course!"

Springs were clearly reacting and its head shook for a moment. The puppet replaced its vigorous tone with a soft one.

"My apologies, sir, I am afraid the workshop does not store any white wine at the moment. Shall I have a package ordered for you? In the meantime, I can serve red wine, dessert wine, beer, coffee, tea..."

Once again, you turned to the man with an even wider smile as the options kept spewing out of ithe puppet's speakers. Geppetto turned to you with a smaller one of his own.

"Very impressive." He kept nodding his head, perking his brows, "I still am not too fond of the all-nighter and would prefer if it was kept as a one-timer." A short chuckle escaped him and he turned back into the kitchen. You followed him as the puppet kept on speaking.

"Of course, Uncle." You nodded yourself, "This one just kept me up at night. I was so close to fixing the voice box." "And you've done well." Gloved hands easily fished out another coffee cup from the cupboard. The ceramic resounded softly in the open room as he reached for the milk.

"...black tea, chai, earl grey tea, green tea..."

"Thank you." Lips quirking up, you bowed your head briefly, hands behind your back. "I can go fix up the other butler brother, too. I mean, I believe I can, right?" One step closer and you practically leaned on your toes with wide, expectant eyes. You did hope your uncle wouldn't interpret your eagerness as impatience - even if it partly was.

"... cappuccino, latte macchiato, espresso, espresso mokka, espresso macchiato, cortado..."

With another glance, Geppetto shook his head even as his own lips quirked up. He closed the cupboard. "If you have already fixed his voice box, you might as well make his brother talk. But my goodness..." A snicker escaped the old man as he gestured with his hands full, "...make him stop his gabbling! He is too invested in his work!"

You laughed yourself. "Will do so, Uncle!"

Again, he pointed to the second, dead-still puppet on the table. "Hopefully his brother does not turn up to be such a chatterbox!"

You forced a chuckle. There is only so much that you could bear of Uncle's awful jesting.

"If it prattles as much as the other one..."

"...apple juice, orange juice, grape juice, cocoa, water..."

"...does that not mean I have become an expert at fixing up voice boxes?"

Geppetto utters an humph and bites his tongue. You are truly still young. His brown eyes gazed at the still-empty cup in his hand and he called out from the kitchen.

"If you manage to fully fix his motions as well and have him make me coffee, I might bestow you such a title, dear!"

[hoaxriot]

DONT BLAME ME

summary. Hermonie Granger knew nothing of Draco Malfoy until he was laying on her kitchen table bleeding out.

pairings. Hermonie Granger x Draco Malfoy

note. this is for my bsf who is obsessed with dramonie and begged me to write this, so i hope this fulfills what you wanted.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hermonie stood in the corner of a large room holding a glass, her eyes scanned the room looking for best friend— Harry Potter, he somehow convinced her to tag along to a party with him. Every time he went to a party with his boyfriend, he begged Hermonie to go with him and she said no but she gave it a shot and now she’s all alone. Theodore Nott, Harry’s boyfriend dragged him away almost forty minutes ago leaving her all alone. She recognized many faces but wouldn’t go up to them.

That one group. Harry fit in perfectly because of Theo but Hermonie never did. She wasn’t like any of them, she was some normal girl who worked at a bookstore selling books while they were out probably killing people. She finally caught sight of the back of Harry, as she stood up she watches as he and Theo make their way too Theo’s friends. Her eyes follow the two, she squints her eyes as Theo leans down and whispers into Draco Malfoy’s ear, Draco’s eyes glare as Theo straightens his back grabbing onto Harry’s hand.

Hermonie looks at them, down at her drink, she brings it to her mouth downing the rest of it before setting it down on the table. She wipes her lips with the tip of her pointer finger as she begins to walk towards Harry, her nerves make there way all throughout her body as she gets closer making her hands tighten around the fabric of her red dress. Hermonie’s dress begins with a low neckline curving around her body down to her calves with one slit, the back has a design that shows her flawless skin.

Once she finally finds herself beside Harry, he turns around with a smile. “Oh, Hermonie! So sorry about leaving you, something happened.” He apologized, she smiled saying it was no big deal.

“It’s okay, Harry. Is everything okay?” Her voice is soft and full of worry, he looks at Theo out of the corner of his eye before looking at her again. “Oh, yeah. It’s nothing.” He replies. She nods, looking quickly at Draco, stupidly. He was already staring at her. She cleared her throat looking down at her feet, gods, she felt so out of place around these people.

“Hello, Princess.“ Draco greeted, his voice was low. His arms spread out beside him, his usual white button up shirt and black pants. His stupid nickname he calls her, ever since he’s laid eyes on her.

“Hi.” She waves, his lips curl into a smile as he watches her look down at her feet again.

Harry looked at her in worry as Hermonie continued to look down at her feet, he placed his free hand on her forearm. When she looked up, he had that one look which was asking if she was okay, she nodded. “I think I’m gonna head home, it’s late and I have work tomorrow.” She lied, tomorrow was her day off but Harry believed her and nodded. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before turning around, she squeezed through the crowd, taking a deep breath of air when she pushed the doors open.

The next day, Hermonie awoke by the sound of her alarm. She groaned turning over and slamming her alarm, silence filled her room for one minute until banging was heard. Hermonie sat up quickly in her bed, for some reason fear filled her body. She pulled the comforters off of her body, standing up and walking through her small home.

She stood on her tippy toes looking through her peephole, her eyes widened seeing Harry. Hermonie watched as he began to raise his hand to knock again, she quickly stepped back and opened her door. Harry’s hand fell as the door opened, “Ha—“ Her greetings are cut short when he pushes the door open.

Next thing she knows, Theo and Blaise are carrying Draco into her home, Pansy follows in quickly slamming the door shut.

“What the—“

“Hermonie, grab all your first aid kit shit! Anything to help a gunshot wound!” Theo yells at her, Harry’s already running to get it as she stands in shock, Pansy grabs her arm bringing her to Draco. He’s laid down on her kitchen table, everything that laid there was now on the floor. Blaise stepped away and blood spilled out of Draco’s leg before he covered it again, Draco let out a loud groan at the pressure.

“Can you help?” Blaise turned to look at Hermonie, “Why the fuck do you think I could help with that?” She questioned throwing her hands out in the air. He snapped his head towards Theo.

“Harry told me you went to nursing school!” He yelled at her, Harry ran into the room dropping all of the supplies beside Draco. Suddenly, Hermonie felt her hand being grabbed, she looked down to see Draco’s pale hand holding onto it. “Fucking help me, princess.” Draco begged squeezing her hand. She stared down at him, his face was paler than it usually was and his eyes full of tears because of the pain.

Hermonie looked up at all the eyes on her, pleading eyes. She pulled away from Draco and grabbed the supplies moving Blaise away. Her eyes squeezed shut every time Draco yelled, grunted, or slamming his hand on the table in pain. As she worked on his leg, the other stood away, Pansy left, Blaise and Theo were on the phone.

When Hermonie finished the last stitch, Theo was standing beside Draco. “Your dad called, Draco. They got away, we’ll work on this while you heal—“

“No fucking way, Theo. I’m finishing this with them.” Draco replied sitting up, his face scrunched in pain but played it off.

“No, man. You can’t even sit up, let alone walk. We got this. Just stay here, you’ll be in danger anywhere else.” Theo stated, Hermonie looked up at the comment of him staying at her house. Draco grunted in response as Theo walked away. He turned to looked at Hermonie who was already watching him.

She looked down when they caught eyes, she noticed all the blood on her hands and clothes. Her stomach tightened at the sight, she turned around quickly turning her sink on and pouring soap on her hand. She scrubbed until her hands were red, not from blood— from her scrubbing. She felt Draco watching her but she continued to scrub, her mind went blank as went on.

Suddenly a pair of hands were on hers and the sink was off, “Hey.. it’s gone.” Harry’s voice filled her ears. “We’re leaving but their guards are out there, just call if you need anything.” He spoke squeezing her hand before letting go. She said nothing as they all walked out and the door shut.

“Princess.” Draco’s voice filled the silent room, Hermonie sighed turning around. She now noticed all the blood on his face and body.

“Draco, you’re covered in blood.” She stated, he sighed deeply. “Yeah. Think you can help?” He asked her, she leaned against the counter.

“Mhm. Just stay there and I’ll get the bath ready. You can’t stand so… I’ll have to, um, help.” She stated walking around the table, he watched her figure until she disappeared into the hall.

He sat there in silence looking at his leg, hearing the water begin to run. Her footsteps coming back into the kitchen.

“C’mon.” She held her hands out, he looked between them and her face before grabbing them as she helped him stand up. The trip to the kitchen to the bathroom was a struggle, Draco cursing under his breath and Hermonie struggling to hold all his body weight but she did. She sat him on the bath, “Take off your clothes.” Hermonie spoke, he quickly looked up at her with a smirk. She scoffed, gesturing for him to take them off.

“And then just, slide into the bath. Try to keep your stitches out of the water.” Hermonie explained as she watched Draco unbutton his shirt, his abs showing. She notices a couple tattoos but quickly looks away when he begans to slide his pants off.

Hermonie looked back hearing him slide into the bath, she bent down sitting on her knees and grabbing a washcloth covering it in soap. She gently washed his face and body, Draco’s eyes followed every movement as she rubbed his body with the rag. When she finished she stood up, she forgot about any clothes for him. He read her mind and told her his guards brought clothes and they were in the kitchen. Hermonie quickly got them and helped him change, which to her was very awkward but tried not to be.

Draco put his own shirt on and watched her as she cleaned the bathroom as he sat on the toilet. She held her hands out like she did once again, he grabbed them more comfortably than he did before. He figured she would bring him to the living room but she brought him into her room and laid him on her bed.

“Here, while you’re healing you can stay in here.” She says covering his body with a blanket, he said nothing as he watched her.

“And what about you?” He finally questioned as she finished covering him.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, it’s comfortable.” She responded with a shrug of her shoulders, there was something that flickered in his eyes but it went away as quick as it came.

Hermonie smiled before turning away, before she walked out of her room she turned around again, “If you need anything, just yell for me.” And with that she turned around and shut the door behind her.

The Granger woman walked to her couch that was actually comfortable, she spent quite a lot of money because she loves sitting on her couch with her windows opened as she read— so she wasn’t lying. Grabbing a blanket and pulling it over her, she closed her eyes and she was immediately thinking about how much her life changed in one day but soon enough she finally drifted to sleep.

The next morning, Hermione was woken by the beaming sun through her eyelids. She lightly groaned as she turned her head to see it was six in the morning. She knew there was no point of going back to sleep again because the sun beamed right into her living room so she swung her legs over the couch and stretched.

Getting up, she stopped in her tracks seeing the blood staining her table, fuck. Hermione walked around the table and into the cupboards with her cleaning supplies. She started cleaning.

Soon enough it was eight and the table was spotless, a little too spotless but Hermione didn’t care- she wanted that blood gone, and it was so she was fine now.

After putting the cleaning supplies away she found herself in front of her bedroom door trying to listen to see if Draco was awake, she heard nothing so she turned around and walked into her bathroom after grabbing clothes from her laundry room. She turned on the shower waiting for it to become hot, once it did she did her normal routine.

Getting out, Hermonie dried her hair and found herself back on the couch but before she could get comfortable her door opened making her jump up immediately thinking whoever shot Draco was back, she relaxed upon seeing his friends and Harry.

“Mione, hey.” Harry spoke walking towards her as he let go of Theo’s hand, she nodded. “Hi, Harry.” She smiled the best she could.

“Is he awake?” Blaise interrupted them, “No.” Hermione replied, he ignored her and walked to her room opening it with Theo behind them. She then noticed Pansy.

“Hey, how are you?” Pansy sat down as the two followed her.

While in the other room, Blaise and Theo stood at the end of Hermione’s bed as Draco slept— until now he opened his eyes seeing them staring at him.

“Fuck.” He breathed out in shock, “What?” Draco rubbed his eyes, one thing he always hated about working how he did— there was never one moment of peace, not even sleeping. That was one thing, as a kid he just wanted to be a kid but with what his dad was, he never got that. Becoming what his dad was, he could never fall in love, it was only hook ups.

What Draco did know, from the moment he saw Hermione at Theo’s birthday years ago, she was something different from all the other girl’s he hooked up with but he could never drag her down with him.

“They’ve been off the radar since yesterday, Pansy can’t even find them.” Blaise interrupted his thoughts, he grunted sitting up the best he could.

“And the fuck am I supposed to do? I can’t even sit up. Just continue watching them.”

“The fuck are we supposed to watch?! There’s nothing. Do we just sit and wait? There’s so many other people we have to deal with, Draco. This isn’t even something that was assigned to us.” Theo snapped making Draco glare and Blaise to look at him in shock.

“Just… deal with whatever my dad tells you.” Draco responded, he hated how he felt right now.

Thank fuck. Pansy walked through the door at the moment, “We gotta go.” She stated, the two men nodded at Draco before leaving.

And once again, it was Hermione and Draco in the apartment together.

A week as passed, Draco was finally walking— with a limp so he used that as an excuse to stay. The two have somewhat bonded in a way.

Draco was currently staring at the ceiling and then beside him— Hermione Granger slept peacefully. He thought how could someone ever sleep and be so beautiful but his thoughts went back to last night.

Hermione was sleeping peacefully until she heard a loud scream coming from her room making her sit up quickly. Maybe she was dreaming, but that thought went away when she heard more sounds coming from her room.

She ran into it seeing Draco covered in sweat and moving around, he was muttering something in but she couldn’t understand. She walked to her bed and sat beside him, she wiped his hair away from his face.

“Draco, wake up.” She whispered, his muttering went away but his eyebrows were still furrowed as his nightmare continued. “Draco!” She whispered-yelled finally waking him up.

“Princess,” He whispered, she smiled softly growing to like the nickname after a week. “Yeah, it’s me.” Her hand laid on top of his, she squeezed it. That movement made Draco intertwine their fingers together.

“Want to talk about it?” She asked lightly, he shook his head in response so she went silent again. Instead, Draco looped his arm around her waist and pulled her to beside him, she yelped at the sudden movement but when she was finally on the bed looking into Draco’s eyes, everything was peaceful. His arm was still around her waist but more gentle.

“Just lay here?” He spoke softly, “Yeah.” She responded with a smile that made Draco’s problems fly away.

Now, Hermione was looking back at him with tired eyes. “Morning.” She greeted him, his lip quirked into a smirk that made her laugh.

“I need to go get some food for breakfast.” Hermione said suddenly, “You shouldn’t.” He responded quickly as she stood up, his eyes roamed her body until she turned around at his comment.

“Why?”

“You never know, the people who shot me have been off the radar for a week. They could be watching us.” He spoke, she scoffed.

“I need food, Draco. So do you if you wanna get better.” She responded grabbing clothes from her drawer and closet.

“Then I’ll go with you.” He stood up, but Hermione turned around “No way. You need to let your leg heal. Plus, if there watching anyone, it’s you. I’ll be fine.” She spoke, Draco licked his teeth as she made a good point and she knew that when he made that face.

“Seriously, Draco,” He started walking towards her, “The store’s not even a block away, if it makes you feel any better—“ Her sentence was cut off by Draco’s lips on hers, her breath was taken away by the shock, he pulled away but leaned his forehead against hers.

“I don’t wanna lose you, princess.” He whispered, she smiled even though he couldn’t see, she pulled away from his forehead putting her lips on his, now he was shocked. Her kissing him was everything to him, he wanted her too, just as much as he wanted her.

“You won’t.” She spoke once she pulled away, “I’m just going to the store.”

“I know but you never know with what I do, people die all the time doing normal things.” He spoke with pain, “That’s what happened to my mother, she died going to get me dinner because my dad was gone for business.” He expressed what happened to Narcissa Malfoy— no one ever knew what truly happened to her but now she knew. Tears gathered into his eyes, he turned away but Hermione put one hand on his cheek and made him look at her.

“Draco…” She whispered, “I am so sorry. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain and now I understand but I have those guards following me, okay? I’ll be back in ten minutes.” She hugged him and he hugged back, it felt good. The last time he was hugged like this was since his mother.

When she pulled away, she turned around and left the apartment leaving Draco alone.

While she walked to the store, she desperately wanted the guards not to be on her ass but now she was scared, she felt like someone else was watching her— it wasn’t the annoying feeling of Draco’s guards following, it was like someone was waiting for her. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted Harry, she would text Draco but she didn’t want to worry him.

As she was texting Harry, someone bumped into her. Hermione went to apologize but their hands were gripping her forearm.

“Better watch where you’re going, sweetheart.” They whispered with a sinister smile, fear struck her entire body.

Her body was grabbed behind her and she let out a scream, Hermione was turned around meeting eyes with one the guards, “Go home.” He told her.

One single gunshot ran through the air making her flinch, she looked up at the guard in front of her, his eyes were wide as his grip on her arm went away and he fell to the ground. A sob tore through her throat as another gunshot went off, she whipped her head around to see the second guard pointing a gun at the man, “Go!” He yelled, she was frozen until he turned around to chase after the man who began to run.

Finally her feet took off into a sprint, she was pushing people who were scared too. She ran and ran, continuing to look back. She almost ran past her apartment but quickly opened the doors and ran up the stairs, she tried to open the door but it was locked.

Hermione began to knock on her door, loudly. “Draco!” She sobbed out, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Continuing to bang on the door until it fell open, she went straight into Draco’s arms— sobbing and shaking.

“Hey, hey, princess.” He turned their bodies around slamming the door and locking it. He picked her feet off the ground bringing them to the couch. He pulled her off and grabbed her face with his hands.

“Princess, breathe.” He spoke, tears continued to fall down her cheeks as she breathed heavily, he continued to wipe them as they did.

“He’s dead. And someone grabbed me—“ She let out a big breath, “And then he ran off after him.” Her sentence made no sense at all to Draco but someone grabbed her.

“Who? Who grabbed you?” His arms went to her arms, he froze feeling liquid through her sleeve. “Hermione.” He stooped, they both did. Especially her when he called her that. His hand pulled away and it was red, she gasped. “Oh my.”

Draco looked at her, he quickly ripped the sleeve off. He let out a breath of relief not seeing a gunshot. Hermione looked down, she must’ve gotten a graze when the guy shot Draco’s guard.

Draco got up, leaving her. Her arm reached out grabbing his hand. “Where are you going?” She asked with a hoarse voice from crying so hard.

“To get your first aid kit, here.” He didn’t say anything, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom, he set her down on the counter as he began to work on her cut. She winced when he started, leaning her head on his shoulder as he worked.

When he actually started, she whimpered grabbing onto his arm. “I know, princess. I’m sorry.” He kissed the side of her head.

When he finally put a bandage around her arm, he stood in front of her as Hermione stared at her lap.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, “I should’ve listened to you.”

“Hey, no. It is not your fault.” Draco grabbed her hand. He leaned down kissing her forehead.

Their moment was cut off when knocking was heard and distant yelling. “Go in the room.” He whispered.

“What?! No way!” She argued back, jumping off the counter. He rolled his eyes grabbing onto her hand making sure she stayed behind him as they walked through the house. He looked through her peephole seeing his friends. Draco unlocked the door, opening it as they walked in. He quickly shut and locked it.

“Mione!” Harry yelled pulling her into a hug, she immediately wrapped her arms around him. The rest went into the kitchen, Draco’s eyes still on Hermione.

“We found them. Your other guard got him, and it’s all done with.” Pansy said as she sat on the table. Draco’s tense shoulder fell, relaxed as he saw Hermione smile. She was so thankful, but now maybe Draco would leave her, he saw her mind running.

“Got any champagne, Hermione?” Pansy suddenly asked, the Granger woman laughed pointing to the bottle on her kitchen counter, Pansy hopped off of the table and grabbed it. She popped the bottle off as Harry made his way to Theo. Draco slowly walked towards Hermione wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Now that this is all over, I’m still gonna stay.” She laughed under her breath, turning her head she kissed him, in front of everyone. Pansy gasped catching everyone’s attention, they all cheered making Hermione laugh as she walked towards the group.

The rest of the night felt like a weird celebration but everyone was happy, soon after midnight everyone stumbled out of the apartment— minus Draco.

As Hermione said goodbye to Harry, Draco snaked his arm around her waist. When the door shut, he spun her around and threw her over his shoulder. Hermione yelped with a smile, the two were a little tipsy. Soon the two were on her bed with large smiles kissing, it was messy but they truly didn’t care.

Draco finally found his peace, which was Hermione Granger.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Page, Turning

There’s another me on the page, another me in the mirror.

This is part 15… of 20. Your hand is frozen, afraid to see what lies on the other side.

(I have a goal to finish this saga in late 2023 or early 2024 so wish me luck on powering through the last few installments 😅)

The Tale of the Cursed Raven:

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5 I Part 6 I Part 7 I Part 8 I Part 9 I Part 10 I Part 11 I Part 12 I Part 13 I Part 14 

“Do you know what drives a story forward?”

He asked the question without looking up from her manuscript. His tone was flat, but edged with sternness as he cut a line of red ink through a sentence. The color fuzzily bled into the parchment paper.

“No. I don’t,” she replied. Truthfully, innocently.

Her mentor slashed through another section, indicating off the offending areas in telltale red. Each strike of the quill made her flinch, as though those strikes were cutting through her instead of through her work.

“Time?” she offered, her guess echoing in the dark room.

He set his papers down and scoffed. The full extent of his gaze settled on his pupil. Discomfort gnawed at her.

His eyes were empty ones. They did not belong to a man, but what remained of one. Just a husk being blown around in the breeze.

“It’s the characters.”

“Characters…?”

“The people we write about.” He slapped the back of his hand against the marked-up manuscript. “A rock won’t cast itself into a lake, it needs someone to throw it. An adventure does not begin if the hero refuses to answer the call. And what good is a rich world and lore without beings to bask in it?”

A light bulb went off in her head.

“Oooh. So characters… make things happen!!”

“Not just that. It is through the characters that a story is shaped. The outcome, the ending… it is the result of all the characters, their choices, and their bonds and connections with one another.”

“Everything is connected?”

“Yes.”

In his circle of candlelight, his empty eyes seemed to soften the slightest bit. He slumped forward in his seat, pressing his forehead against a palm. When he looked down, written words were a blur.

“… I realize that now,” he murmured. A soft groan rushed through his teeth.

“Teacher?” She placed a tentative hand on his arm—the arm still gripping his quill. The raven could feel the muscles under his skin stiffen at the touch.

He pulled away. This time, he did not make eye contact as he spoke. The flickering flame of a candle was his companion, his solace.

“Readers have their reasons for seeking stories. They want to relate to someone, they want to meet new faces, they want to cry and to celebrate with them, they want to be loved. They want to escape.

“Stories make us feel things, child. And just as the characters impact their stories, so, too, do those stories change the world.”

He slammed both hands down on his writing desk.

The candle wobbled, and papers flew into the air. They slowly drifted down, big bales of white against and the shadows they projected along the walls. White feathers and black feathers in a gentle rain.

“The real world. It puts hope into people’s hearts, and it can tear them down just as easily. It’s your role as storyteller to bring the feelings put on the page to life.“

“Feelings…”

I don’t even fully understand my own yet, she wanted to protest. But the words and the composition of them eluded her.

The raven’s mouth remained sealed shut.

“There’s no soul to your characters. Rewrite it,” he commanded gruffly, jerking his chin to the papers scattered at her feet, “and this time, make it something worth reading.”

The gemstone set in her magical quill has not fully cleared yet. Once a clear, deep navy, it now has tendrils of black threaded through it. Plumes of smoke floating up sweetly into the night.

Raven closes her fingers around the writing implement. A book is on her lap, open to a fresh double spread.

Doubts louder than the screeching baby robin swirl in her head.

You’ve never gotten a grip on your unique magic. What happened all those other times you tried to tame it? You failed. Even when you try to cheat and use tools to help channel the magic, you fail.

High quality parchment, enchanted inks, quills made from the feathers of rare birds… No matter what you use, it never works.

The problem isn’t the magic or the conduits, it’s you.

Your own weakness.

Each nasty thought is a little black bird, taking root and roosting where it shouldn’t. The doubts collect into a familiar feeling, a dark cloud suspended above her heart. A group of them, a swarm.

An unkindness of ravens.

She frowns, pressing the nib of her quill into the corner of her first page. It leaves an imprint, a dent. Proof of her existence.

I know I’m weak.

Her confession causes the darkness to cave in, crashing upon her in a thunderous roar. What is left is the quiet that comes after a storm has settled, and a soft, resolute realization.

I was never strong to begin with, but… I can still give others strength, can’t I? That’s my role. Not a storyteller, but someone who gives support.

She crinkles her brow, shutting her book. Raven lays her pen flat against the cover, then her hand on top of it.

Maroon leather dappled with spots of sunlight. Pockets of light in a place of shade.

Characters are connected. To the world, to their stories, to other characters. And even to me. Then…

I should have the power to change it too.

To make that magic real myself. To turn dreams into reality.

Her eyes drift shut, and a match strikes, igniting a flame inside of her. A warm buzz skitters across her skin. Magic hums in her veins, manifesting at her fingertips.

“The future is but a blank page. Allow me to guide you through this story.

“Quoth the Raven!”

Something in the air shifts in response to her plea.

She sighs and reaches—this time not within herself, but outward.

To the robin.

There is momentary nothingness.

Then the ground at her feet falls away in one clean chunk.

She’s suddenly sailing through a void, book and quill slipping out of her grasp. The whirring of a great plummet rattles her bones, chilling hands tugging at her skin.

What is this?

Raven doesn’t entirely understand what’s happening, but for once the unknown does not frighten her. Curiosity pulls her deeper down the rabbit hole. Her insides skip, almost embracing the call.

It feels so natural, so expected, for an entirely new experience.

Is this… how it was meant to be all along?

An impact is her answer. Raven’s feet connect, spirit anchoring to a new space.

Sharp pangs spike along both arms. She hisses, expelling a deep breath through her clenched teeth.

But worse yet is the pain in her chest, a boulder cast into a raging river. Her eyes sting, and her throat is torn asunder, left raw and frayed.

The world explodes into another existence, painting everything over with a coat of jet black. The sky, the plants, even Raven, rendered by the night.

A curtain descends, falling across her head in silken waves. Chords of color dangle from the darkness. All shades of blue, all pulsating with pain.

She recognizes them.

The rich blue-violet of Fear, the palest pastel of Forgotten. A cobalt so deep that it was nearly black—Despair.

These must be…

Raven naturally extends a hand to the colors—introducing a new flash of pain down her arm.

Whispers snake along her skin and slink into her ears, indiscernible and unwelcome. There’s a slight shove against her shoulder, testing her sturdiness.

Don’t push me out, she coaxes the robin’s mind space. I’m a friend. I’m just like you.

The sky shudders.

A harsh wind roars, blowing her bangs and pigtails back.

Blue soars through the darkness, weaving ribbons of a pure and cloudless color. Those streaks, Raven realizes, are drawn by a whole flock. They’re loosely defined, existing as nothing more than outline of some bird-like shapes—but the air is theirs.

Her heart fills with melancholy, sadness seeping into the cuts and gashes already there. Salt rubbed in the wounds, reopening scars.

Her pulse picks up pace, her blood rumbling like thunder. The birds passing overhead are a scene put on fast forward, their shadows racing for the sunset.

This feeling is familiar.

Raven shakily takes Despair in her stiff, aching fingers, rubbing a thumb along it. There is no glossiness or sheen to the darkness, no light that refracts.

Icy images slam into her.

A nest. Shattered eggshells. Feathers and beaks. Robins clamoring together. Wings spread out. Takeoff.

Blue, endless blue.

Uneasy steps to the edge. Clumsy footing, a slip. Infantile wings flapping in desperation. A small body falling, falling, falling…

Fallen down.

Raven nods slowly.

Once upon a time, you were bright-eyed and hopeful. You dreamed of the sky, and exploring it with your loved ones.

One misstep and disaster struck. Your wings were injured, and your dream shattered.

Separated from your family and unable to fly, you don’t know what to do. You’re scared that you’ve lost everything—including yourself. You think that this is where your story stops.

She digs her nail into Despair.

But I’ve seen beyond ever after, and I know that ‘the end’ isn’t truly the end.

The deals offered to her. The hands she had held. The promises not kept.

All those times, I thought I was done for—but life still went on. No… I moved on. I continued living. I went to a new place, I met new people, I experienced new things. What hurt me before made me stronger.

Her shoulders sag, burdened by an unseen weight. She stands tall and lifts them, picturing arms supporting her on both sides and a hand upon her back.

“You’ve truly changed—here, at our Night Raven College.”

She smiles.

My wings are broken too. Not physically, but it keeps me from flying. They’re still healing. I’m not yet ready to see the sky again. But I know that, someday, I’ll be able to fly once more. The same goes for you.

Your story is your own. It’s only over if you let it be—if you let the story write you instead of the other way around.

This page can’t turn to the next without you.

Raven’s breath echoes into the ground, oscillating outward in waves.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

She feels a heartbeat buried in the earth. Deep below the dirt, the sound dullened by the distance and the substance piled between them.

Her own pulse slows, matching it. Exhales, long trains of secrets unwinding themselves and drifting up into the sky.

Slow, steady—calm.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

Their heartbeats align, becoming one.

Breaths coalescing.

Willing the flow of the feelings, guiding them with a channel formed by her hands.

A radiant blue pools in a circle around Raven’s thumb. The shade of the sky seeps into Despair, coloring the whole chord. It bleeds down into the others—Fear and Forgotten and more.

Before long, Raven is standing under a curtain of sky blue. Cool to the touch, and comforting. She feels like she’s surrounded by plush clouds.

A passing breeze pats her cheek as she sifts the strands between her fingers.

This is… my answer.

She falls back, setting the color to the wind. No grass or ground bothers catching her.

The world vanishes, and she’s tumbling through that vast, wonderful color. Sinking into a beautiful abyss with no bottom.

Free falling, flying.

Blink.

Everything implodes, converging in her tiny body.

The moon and sun and clouds and stars all fold up and pack tightly inside of her. Aurora ribbons and storms with silver linings. Even the shadows slip in, riding upon slivers of light.

The sky is bottled up.

Shoved into her.

And she’s back.

Raven opens her eyes. Real sensations slowly piece together again.

Wobbling wetness in her eyes, trails blazing down her cheeks. Her breath expels in deep, heavy pants. Head swimming, her slight form shaking violently.

The aftereffects hit her all at once.

Nausea makes its home in her gut, dampening her attire with sweat. Pressure presses down hard on her skull, threatening to crush it like an overripe fruit. A consistent, dizzying pain creeps at the corners of her vision.

She gulps and looks down.

The gem set in her magical quill is nearing a pitch black. A single thread of color hangs in the delicate balance, refusing to be overtaken by obsidian.

But the robin doesn’t move a muscle. It regards her with an eerie calmness, eyes wide and innocent.

Waiting for what is next.

“... So, here you are."

The quiet but resolute accusation pierces the forest.

An impish young man seats itself beside them at the lake. He wears a brilliant green vest, a jacket draped over his shoulders. When he grins, there is the flash of fangs and a glint in his big, ruby eyes. They beam out from behind uneven, dark bangs streaked with magenta.

"Vanrouge." Their smile is bitter. "How kind of you to join me in the audience. A bit late for it, though."

"I thought I sensed a familiar presence—and I was right. That magic was your barrier after all." He casually crossed his legs. "Tell me, old friend, what brings you to Sage's Island?"

They laugh. "Meddling in others' affairs, are we?"

"Isn't that precisely what you're doing?" Lilia meets their harsh words blow for blow. It comes as naturally to him as swordplay.

"We never did see eye-to-eye on these things. The path to true happiness never does run as smooth as we want it to, do we?”

"I see that you have no intention of backing down." He frowned. "You have a special interest in this one, or...?"

They dip a finger into the lake water, causing its surface to ripple. The rings rise and fall so easily.

"This story--her story-- was set into motion long ago. It is far past the point of no return. Whatever you do and say now cannot sway the path she has chosen to walk along."

"Ah, but you make exceptions for your own actions?"

"How is she to develop if she cannot overcome the simplest of obstacles?"

"Simple? Even I can see that you're being needlessly cruel and unusual."

"And you are being needlessly lax and indulgent. Time has softened your barbs, O’ Crimson Demon.”

“We don’t speak of the past,” he says quickly. “Not here.”

“You treasure your time here so, even when you are short on it yourself. Worry for yourself, and not for the juveniles you seek to coddle.”

The words hurt—but behind them is a blunted kind of darkness, something deeper and more sullen. An anger and a sadness not shown to the world.

He suddenly understands.

A personal vendetta, then, he ventures. "If this is concerning the Loveless King of old--"

"It is no longer about him. It is about his successor, the one who bears his legacy."

"What is the point of making the child--any child--suffer so? Does she truly deserve to bear the sins of her forefather? Can you not allow her to live and let live?"

The only sound is the water washing everything away.

"Answer me, Estella."

She holds up a finger, silencing him.

"... Listen. Watch. The next scene of the story is unfolding. The finale is afoot.”

A pair tromps through the woods, each person a considerable distance apart. A boy in a headscarf is far ahead, calling out into the thicket through cupped hands. His gloomy partner trails after him unenthusiastically, hunched over and muttering curses.

"No luck so far..." Kalim sighs, his shoulders sagging. "Poor Raven! She must be so confused and cold and tired out here all by herself."

Idia sighs too--much more despairingly.

“‘Poor Raven’ this, ‘poor Raven’ that… Where’s MY ‘poor Idia’?!" he muttered to himself. "I was right in the middle of a game when the headmaster put out that 'urgent' summons and it cost me the match!"

I’ve just been taking Ls left and right lately... First it was Azul-shi pestering me for 'just a little favor', and I felt bad for him so I caved!! That’s the LAST time I decide to have a heart! I had to give up that precious concert ticket to someone that doesn't even appreciate the art of idols!! Then Floyd doesn't do the ONE job he had to do, and I missed out on some limited edition in-game prizes… And now being sent on a rescue mission I didn't ask to be a part of...!

Hell hasn’t known true fear until it’s met with a raging gamer...!!

"Oh, I know! I'll have Jamil run her a hot bath and prepare a banquet to welcome Raven back once we find her. That way, she'll be able to relax and get comfortable again," Kalim babbles ahead of him, all smiles again. (His sadness never lasted that long, Idia had noticed.)

Kalim glances at his partner, then gasps. "Oh gosh, Idia! You look so worn out! You've been so hard at work trying to help us find Raven, it's no wonder you're tired! Should I have Jamil prepare a hot bath and a banquet for you too?"

"N-No!!" Idia snaps. "A-Anything but that!! I think I'd rather die..."

"You feel like you're going to die?! Oh no, should I call a doctor for you?"

"D-Don't do ANYTHING for me, I'm begging you!"

Idia's plea echoes through the forest, shaking the leave above them. They rattle, producing a light, shifting sound. And then...

A chirp comes from far away.

Kalim leaps at the sound. "Did you hear that just now? It sounded like a bird...!!"

"I-Is it really that surprising to find a bird in a forest? Even a shut-in like me knows that's basic common sense..."

"Eh, really? I'm more used to seeing birds in cages. They bring in lots of them at some ceremonies and property openings I've been to. Then we cut a big ribbon and all the birds get released into the sky!"

Kalim glances in the direction of the chirp. "Hey, maybe if we go to the bird, we can ask it for help!"

"H-Huh? That's the first decent idea you've had all day. Birds have the aerial advantage in a situation like this." And the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can retreat back to my bedroom to catch up on the event, Idia adds. "M-Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to be paired with you after all. It can be useful to have a party member with a high Animal Language stat!"

"Oh, I'm not good at Animal Languages at all!"

"... Wh-What?"

"I just kind of get a gist for what they're feeling by listening really hard!

"H-How are we supposed to communicate what we need help with to any forest animal then?!"

"I can try my best!"

"What if your best isn't good enough?! I-I take back everything I said, being stuck with an extrovert's the WORST!!"

"Don't be like that, Idia!! We can definitely power through this together!!" Kalim rushes over to his upperclassman's side and--to Idia's horror--links arms with him. "Come on, let's get going before we lose the bird!"

"W-Wait, don't just go deciding that on your own...! A-And be careful, I’m not an athletic otaku! D-Don't pull on my arm, you'll dislocate itttt...!!"

Idia's protests go largely ignored or not registered. In the distance, critters scatter on little paws and hooves. Away from him, away from them.

Kalim drags him along the twisted road ahead and toward an uncertain outcome.

Only the hope of a birdsong to guide them.

Elsewhere in the woods, another pair struggles.

"Tch. I can't believe I was woken up from my nap for this,” Leona groans, batting a branch out of his way. Leave it to the headmaster to call us in to do his dirty work. “If he can’t keep an eye on the canary, that’s his problem, not mine.”

“Oh, quit it, will you?” Vil retorts with a sigh. “It’s exactly this kind of attitude that reflects poorly on both yourself and your entire dormitory.”

“You can’t possibly be happy about this.”

“I’m not--but you certainly aren’t making this any more bearable for me.” Vil grimaces as he steps over a large twig. The path before him is long and littered with environmental hazards: rocks, mud, and bugs--none of which he had dressed for. “The least you can do is go about this gracefully.”

“Oh, I do apologize, your majesty. I didn’t realize we were on our way to greet the Queen of Hearts herself,” Leona spits. “Wouldn’t want to offend her with poor manners now.”

“So you think it’s appropriate to offend me with your poor manners instead?” Vil huffs.

“Not like I have a choice. You see any other sorry saps around?”

Their sour exchanges are nothing new, but it offers Vil temporary reprieve from the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Like a pool of fabric clenched in a fist, it gathers, twisting into a concentrated lump. An inkling of dread.

“... Something is wrong,” Rook had said. He, who was always smiling, had unmistakable panic in his eyes that night. “Something is terribly amiss.”

Vil hadn’t thought anything of it until the summons had come.

They had all anticipated the same old thing. Another emergency meeting with some inane demand from the headmaster, some offloading of responsibilities onto the dorm leaders. Expected, shared reluctance and complaints to match the headmaster’s crocodile tears.

It was simply that his niece had gone missing, and he sought her safe return. There were groans and eye rolls to be had, immediate rejections of the request as he scrambled for a bribe or a blackmail that would convince them.

The man was so flippant--yet he pleaded with such an intense desperateness. Not acted, nor exaggerated.

From the night before, Rook’s foreboding warning had arisen fresh in Vil’s mind. And again, now.

Danger on the horizon. A tragedy on the brink of becoming reality. The huntsman had a penchant for sniffing them out.

“... Rook, you absolute fool of a man,” Vil grumbles. “What have you gone and gotten yourself entangled with now?”

“Bleh, why’d you have to bring him up all of a sudden?” Beside his fellow dorm leader, Leona glowers, his ears flattening. “Cut it out or you’ll will him into existence. It’s already bad enough I have to put up with one pain in the tail.”

The wind passing through set the leaves above them rustling. Papery thin and delicate, the foliage may as well have been papers being shuffled and sorted.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop,” Vil shoots back. “Do you mind?”

“Can’t help having better hearing than the average human,” he shrugs, infuriatingly smug.

“Oui, Roi du Léon! That is but one of your many charm points!!”

“Yeah, that’s... right...”

Leona’s face slowly falls. Vil’s own expression matches his. Neither of them had noticed a third person emerging after them from the thicket. Not a smell, nor a sound, to give away his presence.

He stands between the duo, the brim of his feathered hat obscuring his eyes. A blonde bob cut, the rich violet and crimson band of Pomefiore upon his arm.

Rook casually tips his hat, causing Leona to shudder and back away. “Bonjour. What a coincidence it is to meet two kings sharing a stroll. It must be destiny that our paths crossed!”

“Oh good, you’ve jinxed us,” Leona drawls, passing Vil a glare. “Go figure.”

He doesn’t deign to acknowledge the lion with a response. Instead, Vil steps toward his huntsman. “Rook, just what is going on here?”

“Hmm?” His smile is far too dazzling for the circumstances. “Are you curious about my day? I’ve only been out taking in the sights and sounds of nature myself.”

“Be serious!” Vil considers shaking him by the shoulders, but thinks better of it. “This wasn’t the ominous attitude you had yesterday.”

Leona scowls. “Your first mistake was to trust Rook with anything at all.”

“As though you’ve been of any more use?”

Their sharp quips are met with a voice like a gentle caress.

“Roi du Poison, Roi du Léon.”

Rook tenderly took each of their hands in his. He playfully swung their arms from side to side in a simple dance, his lips forming a musical chuckle. “Oh, I’ve had the honor of witnessing the most marvelous scene!! It sets my heart aquiver at the thought.”

“What...” Vil sways with him in a confused daze. “What are you on about now?!”

“Looks like he’s finally lost his senses,” Leona simpers. “Tragic, really.”

“You’re not providing any concrete answers, Rook,” Vil protests, tugging on their linked hands—as if to snap him out of his trance. “What happened when you went out last night?”

Rook smiles dreamily. “What indeed. You see, I’ve looked beyond the looking glass and glimpsed the birth of new magic not once, not twice, but three times! First Monsieur Spade, then Monsieur Crabapple… Fufu, I’m quite the lucky man.”

“The first years that came into their unique magic,” Vil recalls. “Yes, I’m aware. Then this third incident must be…”

A bird sounds somewhere in the forest.

Leona immediately catches on. Quick as a cat, he pounces on the opportunity presented to him. “You’ve seen the canary. Well, track her down for us. Poor old Crowley’s beside himself without his golden girl.”

Irises in slivers of green peer out from the shadow of his hat. “Non, I’m afraid I can’t allow that. We mustn’t interfere at a time as fragile as this.”

“You’re making this real unnecessarily difficult. Step aside before I make you.”

The frustrated growl in Leona’s tone does little to frighten him. Rook laughs softly, looking fondly upon the woods surrounding them.

“A flower of evil is most beautiful when left on its own to bloom. If plucked, that vitality dissipates with time.”

He wishes to see it at the height of its beauty.

Pure, noble, and true.

At the end of a path is a clearing--and in that clearing is a raven.

She's crouched to the ground and deliberately made her presence as small as possible. Beside her is a basket. She stares into it, as if afraid to disrupt whatever is inside.

"Raven!!"

She turns at the call of her name, eyes swelling at the appearance of Kalim and Idia from behind the trees.

"Wh...”

“You’re okay!” Kalim tackles her in a smothering hug. “Everyone was so worried!!”

“Speak for yourself,” Idia mutters. “Assuming that everyone will just smile and agree with whatever motivational stuff you spew out... Th-This is why I can’t stand the sparkly, outgoing types irl!”

“You came looking for me?” Her words are tentative.

“Bzzzt, wrong. The headmaster cried and begged for us to find you,” Idia sneers, refusing to meet her curious eyes. “Some of us have more important things to do than random side quests.”

“Uncle did?”

It’s surreal to say.

Shame and shyness well up in her chest. She wonders what he must have been feeling when he discovered her note, wonders if she’s worthy of such worry. Raven is trapped between an apology she can’t bring herself to utter and the questions that fill her head.

“We’re so glad we found you!” Kalim finds her hands and squeezes them. “Let’s go back.”

“Back…?” She’s bewildered by the word. Blinks several times to reacclimate herself to it. “To everyone… to Night Raven College?”

“Gahahah! Of course, where else could we mean? Right, Idia?”

“D-Do you really need my input on this… There’s literally no other place we could mean.”

“... That’s right,” Raven agrees, just barely audible. “Night Raven College is my one and only home. My nest.”

She cradles the basket to her chest, hanging her head low. Her shadow is cast over the contents, odd bobs and ends collected from the forest, remnants of the place she once resided in.

Both the old and the new, together. Something borrowed and something blue.

“... I want to go home,” Raven says quietly, “if you’re willing to have me.”

“Huh, what kind of stupid question is that? The quest was to come and find you. There’d be no point in it if they didn’t want you back with them.”

“There’s people that would miss you if you just up and flew away, Raven. Friends and family,” Kalim adds. He doesn’t speak with the same scathing bite as Idia. “You should have seen how the headmaster was acting, it broke my heart!”

“Yeah, ngl it was p pathetic.”

“That... certainly sounds like Uncle.” There’s a slight laugh concealed in her statement. Amusement at the ordinariness of it.

She sucks in a breath and wills herself to stand. Her legs wobble, no steadier than a newly hatched chick taking its first steps. “I’d better not worry him any more than I already have.”

“You can lean on me for support if you need it,” Kalim offers, offering his shoulder. “Let’s get you back safely!”

“Finally.” Idia turns and starts grumpily tromping in the way he came from. 

He fumbles with his noise-cancellation headphones, wanting to wash away the outside world from his senses. As he slips them over his ears, he overhears Kalim and Raven behind him.

“What were you doing all the way out here anyway?”

“I was looking for something for the longest time. But now I think I’ve found it.” She pauses. “No... a little birdie helped me find it. A piece of the future.”

The junk in her basket? She was looking for that? Idia scoffs and tunes them out. Whatever.

Soft instrumentals play the opening notes of a song. The Fates will soon join in a harmonious choir, spinning the story of another hero. Behind him, Raven gives a rapt observation over the music.

“Ah... The sky is so blue today.”

Blue?

Idia inclines his head, a hand shielding his eyes from the shining sun. Above, a deep, permeating blue expands in all directions. He hadn’t much noticed it before--not when he was so often cooped up in his own bedroom.

It’s so bright, so hopeful.

A wind blows. Drying up tears and lifting their spirits up. Idia’s fiery hair whips in the breeze, shimmering in the sun as he braces himself against it.

Right before the lyrics begin.

“Oh yeah, the sky’s really pretty today!” Kalim notes. “I’ve always wondered what makes the sky blue? Sometimes it’s more and sometimes it’s less.”

“I wonder too.”

The Fates erupt in Idia’s ears, heralding destiny ever closer.