#Now some tea and lets see if I get to coloring right away or some other day

[yumichikah]

-- thanks to @hainekc, I ended up drawing a grumpy Yumi waking up in the middle of the night to a text from a drunk Rangiku. He's _so done_ with her lol.

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[itsfairly]

if no one is going to talk about nanami's suspenders, i will.

nanami dresses really professionally, who else is going to wear a suit when going to fight curses? but it's the way he dresses professionally that it's interesting. sure, the colors on his suit aren't the most common combination to see in an office job, but when you focus on the pieces, you can tell he puts an effort into looking that way. slacks ironed right in the middle to get that prominent line, how he always makes sure to shine his shoes before they become too dull, and then his suspenders...god, you still remember the first he took them off in front of you.

you see, his suit can be pretty deceiving, hiding all his body underneath it. not just skin, but also build. so its no surprise if some things get tight around his body. Some things being said suspenders.

once the blazer was off and nanami placed his cleaver away, he sat on the bed with his back facing you as he unclasped the clips of his suspenders, the small click-click getting your attention from your phone as you stole a quick glance at him. you didn't thought much of it at first until you hear a quiet, but very noticeable in the silent room, groan as he slipped the garment off, making your heart skip a beat.

from there on, you continued to enjoy the view in silence, mentally thanking that his back was facing you and he wouldn't notice you staring. his shirt was the next to go, agonizingly slow as he worked through the buttons with the little energy he had from his mission today. but once unbuttoned, nanami took the shirt off and you felt your heart make its presence to you once more as it beat faster and faster. not because more skin was exposed to you, but because you understood why it was his suspenders that made him groan.

they were tight around his body, and after a day's work, they had left marks behind.

you dont know why the sight captivated you so badly. i mean, he wore something so elegant to work, something other people wouldn't wear given his line of work, something that probably left his skin sore. but god, you would be lying his seeing those marks didn't spark something in you.

but now, the backseat to this sight didn't satisfy you enough, so you stood up, walking to the other side of the room to steal a glance or two under the pretense of getting a sweater. if his back was a sight, the front was just as much. the x shape on his back extended over to his shoulder, draping the marks down his chest in two lines until they ended on both his sides. it was hard to play off the glances, having to remind yourself that you shouldn't be too obvious as you turned to your closet and search for your excuse (a sweater).

in a weird way, those marks were almost erotic, reminding you that nanami is much more muscular than his clothes make him seen. after all, just how tight (and how long) those suspenders could be if they left such marks? you just wanted to trace them with your fingers, letting the marks dictate where you would caress, feeling the slight dents in his skin as you soothed them over with your lips as you kissed over them, hearing him sigh and groan the more you went south until you...

"something wrong?" nanami asked, snapping you out of your thoughts as you turned your head to look at him.

"just choosing a sweater. i got chilly," you smiled at him, taking whatever sweater as quickly slipping it on.

nanami, to your dismay, had already changed out of his clothes and into his sweatpants, hiding away those marks that had caught your attention so quickly. he stood up from the bed, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around you with a chuckle.

"my darling is cold? i can't have that, you know?" he said, rubbing your sides affectionately to warm you up, not that he needed to when you were already quite hot and bothered now. "i can make you some tea if you want."

you chuckled, ignoring his hands on you (otherwise you would push him onto the bed when his body was probably too sore for that). turning around to face him, you place your hands on his shoulders to try and sneak a touch over where his suspenders would be, making you feel that anticipation was your hands roam down to rest on his chest as if you were already following along his marks.

"sounds nice, love," you nod, letting him taking your hand and guiding you to the kitchen.

maybe next time you would get a chance to feel those marks. this time, skin to skin. even better, take off those suspenders yourself.

[dark-frosted-heart]

He Doesn’t Know That I Turned into an Animal Bonus Story

This is the bonus story involving everyone. It's utterly ridiculous

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. None of my translations are proofread until a day after posting

Victor: This is an emergencyyyy!! Come to the dining hall at once!!

When I woke up this morning and started getting ready, I heard Victor’s voice echoing through the castle.

Kate: What’s the matter Victor?! Did you make Jude mad and end up in debt?! Or did Liam and Alfons play a prank……huh?

What I saw when I came down to the dining hall made me gasp.

Beside Victor were 8 animals.

(4 cats, 3 dogs…And a fox?)

Kate: Victor, where did you find them? I think taking care of all of them will be pretty hard…

Victor: I didn’t find them from anywhere! Everyone in Crown’s become an animal!

Kate: ……Excuse me?

Victor: Last night after you went back to your room, we were all drinking when… Roger and Alfons started arguing over the most trivial things.

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: *sigh* …We’re not getting anywhere like this. Let’s settle this.

Alfons: I see, with drinks? It’s just what I was hoping for.

In the beginning, it was only Roger and Alfons competing, then gradually, the others joined in…

Roger: Hm? There’s no more drinks? I guess I’ll go get more.

Alfons: Oh, what’s this? Are you running away?

Roger: Why would I run when I’m winning? Or do you want me to run?

Liam: Okay, how about you two calm down? I’ll go fetch some instead!

Roger: Thanks Liam. Can you fetch the green bottle in my room?

Liam: Gotcha~

~~ Flashback end ~~

Victor: …After that, everyone except me drank the special alcohol Liam brought back.

Kate: You didn’t drink?

Victor: I had some work left so I couldn’t. So I just had a spot of tea when I joined them.

Kate: So you’re saying that…everyone became an animal because of the alcohol they drank?

Victor: Yes. The special alcohol Liam brought was…here it is!

Victor picked up an empty bottle from the dining table.

It was green like Roger had said, but there was a small label on it.

Kate: “Animalization. Caution: Do not drink” …Is what it says.

Victor: So it wasn’t alcohol that Liam brought, but one of Roger’s experiments!

Kate: No way…!

Victor: The bottle’s the same color as the one Roger asked Liam to get. Since Liam was drunk, he mixed them up.

—At that moment, one of the cats went to hide under the table.

(Was that Liam just now? It looked like he was hiding, but…)

(I don’t think he actually mixed them up. Rather, did he do it on purpose to satisfy his curiosity…?)

Victor: The rest of us didn’t check the label either… They all went to sleep thinking we drank alcohol instead of a drug. I gave them blankets and left. And then when I came down to the dining hall this morning… There they were, looking so cute sleeping under the blankets!

(Well bringing in all these animals would be too much for a prank…)

(So everyone really did become an animal…?)

Kate: If the drug’s one of Roger’s experiments, then there might be some clues in the infirmary.

Victor: You’re right. I’ll go look. In the meantime, can you look after everyone? I really wish I could, but…

Victor took a step closer to the animals…and they scattered like little spiders.

Victor: …Animals have always avoided me. They’re scared of me for some reason. So…I’m entrusting their safety to you. Can you do that for me?

Kate: Got it! I’ll take care of them!

Victor: Thanks, Kate…I’m really glad you’re here.

After Victor left the dining hall, I rolled up my sleeves and pumped myself up.

(Alright…First of all, I need to know who’s who. That’ll make taking care of them easier!)

While thinking up of a plan, I crouched in front of the most obvious one.

Kate: You’re Harrison, right?

Harrison (fox): ……Hm?

Kate: No, there’s no point in making that “who knows” kind of face. If you say “fox”, then it has to be Harrison!

Harrison (fox): …

For some reason, Harrison the fox looked sad.

(Normally Harrison’s lying while looking all aloof, but…)

(...He can’t do that when he’s like this. I’ll need to get him back to normal quickly)

(Next is…)

Kate: Hey, you can’t smoke as a dog!

A white dog with black spots held a cigarette with his front paw and deftly tried to light it.

I rushed over, snatched the cigarette away, and hid it in my pocket.

Kate: With those colors and the cigarette…You’re probably Jude, right? Alright, I’m pocketing them.

Jude (dog): Grrr…

Kate: Um…you sound intimidating, but you look really cute right now.

As a human, Jude would always talk down to me, but he can’t do that the way he is now.

Even while growling at me, he had a dog’s cuteness…I wanted to pet his head.

Kate: There, there…

Jude: WOOF!

Kate: …Woah!

When I tried to pet him, Jude almost bit me.

(Even as a dog, Jude’s still Jude, ruthless as ever…)

Kate: O-okay. I won’t touch you…don’t smoke and just sit tight, okay? I’m sure Victor will find a way to get you all back to normal…

Jude (dog): …

Jude sniffed in displeasure and turned his attention to the clock on the wall.

Kate: “Hurry up” huh? Understood.

(Now then…The only one who’d be near Jude is Ellis, but I don’t see him)

Kate: It really hurt my feelings when Jude almost bit me… If only an animal would let me pet him right now. It’d heal my broken heart and make me really happy!

Jude (dog): …

Jude understood what I was trying to do and looked at me as if he wanted to say something.

(He’s thinking I’m using him…but right now, I can’t even be bothered!)

Kate: Aahhhh! I want to pet someone!

I didn’t know if Ellis would fall for it, but I had to give it a try.

—In that moment.

Kate: Eek!

All of a sudden a black cat jumped into my arms.

Kate: Are you perhaps Ellis…?

Ellis (cat): Meow.

The cat that looked like Ellis replied while rubbing his forehead against my hand.

It’s like he was telling me to pet him.

Kate: Hehe, thank you.

I gratefully petted Ellis’ small head and neck. The way he purred was so cute.

Ellis (cat): …Meow, meow?

(Ah…I think I understood what you just said)

Kate: Did you ask if I’m happy right now? Yes…I’m feeling a little happier!

(Next…)

I looked under the table and spoke to the cat hiding under it.

Kate: You tried to hide from Victor and me while we were talking, so…Are you Liam?

Liam (cat): Meow!

Kate: I need to know…Did you mix up the alcohol and drug on purpose?

Liam (cat): Meow, meow?

As expected from Liam. Even as a cat, he knows how to present himself and meows in a cute and charming way.

He was so cute that I wanted to smoosh his face with mine, but…his eyes were looking from side to side.

Kate: So you did do it on purpose…When you all turn back to human, make sure everyone gives you a scolding, okay?

Liam (cat): Meow…

(Everyone’s going to be mad at Liam while he looks down dejectedly, but…I’m sure everyone will forgive him in the end)

(Because Liam’s someone you just can’t hate)

Kate: In the meantime, please sit tight until everyone’s back to normal.

Liam (cat): Meow…

Kate: Can you keep an eye on Liam, Harrison?

Harrison (fox): Hm…

Though Harrison looked dissatisfied, he stuck by Liam’s side.

(I guess I can rest easy on that. The rest…huh?)

Looking around the dining hall, I noticed that some of the animals were missing.

(Roger, Elbert, Alfons, William…no, those four are missing!)

(Right, they just happened to be in the dining hall…there’s no way everyone in Crown would stay put!)

(I wonder where they went…)

Victor: Kate!

Kate: Victor! Did you find anything?

Victor: Yes. I know how to turn everyone back to normal. By the way, why are you here?

Kate: To tell you the truth, four people…er, animals, have gone missing from the dining hall…

Victor: Haha, my beloved cursed boys are free to be animals, aren’t they?

Kate: It’s really annoying…

Victor: Alright, let’s look for them together.

Kate: Okay!

(I’m glad that Victor’s still human)

(I think it would’ve been really hard to do this by myself…)

We checked the foyer first to rule out the possibility that they left the castle.

Victor: A nearby maid informed me that she didn’t see any dogs or cats walk out the front door.

Kate: That’s a relief! That means they’re definitely still in the castle.

Victor: Right. …By the way, what’s going on over there?

Following Victor’s gaze, I saw some mades gathered in a corner of the foyer.

Kate: That’s suspicious…Let’s ask.

When we approached the maids, we saw them surrounding a dog.

Kate: Ah, that dog…!

Victor: Yes…there’s no doubt about it. It’s Elbert!

He had silky golden fur and distressed eyes.

Even as a dog, Lord Elbert was beautiful. Adding on the charm of a dog, no one could leave him alone.

The maids were all captivated by his charms and handled him like something delicate.

(For now, I’m glad you’re safe…)

Victor immediately used sign language to explain the situation to the maids and succeeded in retrieving Lord Elbert.

Elbert (dog): Awoo…?

(Oooo, so cute…! I’d do anything for you!)

Bringing Lord Elbert along, we decided to search the halls next.

Kate: Wha-what is this…?!

The moment I turned the corner, I was shocked by a devastating scene in the hallway.

There were several cats lying around.

Kate: What in the world…are they okay?!

I rushed over and crouched down beside the cats to check on them.

(Huh? It doesn’t look like they’re hurt.)

(Writhing around in pleasure…Is this)

Victor: Mlem…There’s no doubt about it! It’s catnip!

Kate: Catnip’s…the herb that intoxicates cats, right?

Victor: Yes. It looks like someone gave the cats catnip and threw a drug party.

Kate: That’s…

Victor: No doubt we’re thinking about the same person. Let’s hurry!

We followed the trail of catnip-drunk cats to Alfons’ room.

Kate: Alfons! Please stop spreading catnip around!

When I burst into the room, the cat lying on the bed got up and looked at me languidly.

Victor: You’ve been enjoying your time as a cat, haven’t you Alfons?

Alfons (cat): Meow-ha!

Alfons laughed loudly like he did as a human and let himself get caught.

Alfons (cat): Now that just leaves Roger and William.

Kate: Where would those two be…We’ve searched everywhere we could think of.

Victor: Maybe they’re constantly moving about, or we’re always just missing each other. But I believe finding Roger’s easier than you think.

Kate: Huh?

Victor: Watch.

Victor smiled proudly and cupped his hands around his mouth.

Victor: Ah?! There’s a high-quality beer here from Her Majesty the Queen herself?! I can drink it without anyone noticing. What should I do?

(No matter how much Roger likes alcohol, there’s no way he’d fall for something so obvious…)

Just as I was thinking that, I heard light steps running toward us.

Roger (dog): Arf!

A dog with light brown fur appeared, wagging his large tail.

(...I can’t believe he fell for it)

Roger’s once again proved his hardcore love for alcohol.

After catching the three, we had them wait in the dining hall…William was the only one left.

Victor: To think that he’d be the last one for us to find…That’s William for you!

Kate: You’re right. I wonder where he went…

Victor: Hmm, shall I prepare some strawberries?

Kate: I don’t think that trick will work as well as it did with Roger…but it might be worth a try.

At that moment, a beautiful tune came into the hallway.

Kate: Victor, that’s the sound of a piano…!

Victor: Yes!

We nodded at each other and ran to the great hall.

Kate: William! Did you become human again— —Nevermind?

There was a “cat” on the piano deftly playing Minute Waltz with his front and back paws.

Kate: But it sounded a lot like William’s piano playing…

Victor: …You’re right. He’s the only one that can produce such a sound.

And then Victor and I listened to the cat play.

The final note melted into the air…We applauded the wonderful performance.

Kate: Are you…William?

William (cat): Meow.

William gracefully got off the piano and walked over to us.

Kate: …Even as animals, all of Crown’s kept their “identity” didn’t they?

Victor: You can’t hide your personality even if you want to!

--

Victor: Now that everyone’s back, I have an announcement…dalalalalala dan! According to Roger’s research, the only way to turn back is with a kiss!

Kate: K-kiss…? That kind of solution only exists in fairy tales…

Victor chuckled at my confusion and gently touched my lips with a finger.

Victor: We’re cursed here so there’s nothing strange about it.

Kate: That’s true…

Victor: Well now! It’s not something difficult, so let’s do it quickly.

(I wouldn’t be able to kiss them if they were human, but…)

(...I can probably do it with everyone as animals)

I looked at each Crown member that became an animal and prepared myself.

Kate: Got it. I— 

Victor: Now everyone, line up! I’ll give all of you a kiss with love!

Kate: Huh.

What happened after with Victor was amazing.

No animal was spared as he caught each and every one that tried to run away, and passionately kissed them…

They then all turned back into humans without an issue.

…For everyone’s sake, I’ll leave out some of the details.

[meazalykov]

moving on to you

jessie fleming x reader

summary: after leaving your old life behind in germany, you realize that you'll have a better one in portland

warnings: none

being back in the states was exciting to your fans. 

to most, they’ve believed that you would’ve never left your old club in germany. 

bayern munich was your life at one point, you arrived in 2019 from washington spirit and never wanted to leave. 

now, in 2025– you found yourself in portland, wearing new colors. 

many people know why you left germany, it was obvious to anybody who’s kept up with your lifestyle over the last three years. 

however, you pushed it to the back of your mind. you wanted to restart instead of holding onto something that will never be the same. 

your national teammates– sophia, sam, and olivia– greeted you with open arms. when you walked into sophia’s apartment the afternoon you arrived in portland, you threw yourself into her arms and didn’t let go for a few minutes– ignoring her fiance on the couch who was waiting for your “hello” too. 

sam offered her extra bedroom for you to stay in until you were ready to move in your own.

the problem wasn't finances– portland offered a record breaking salary to you. 

you didn’t want to live alone yet, especially in the emotional state you found yourself in. 

on the first day of training, you met all of your new teammates. 

during that training, you were paired up with jessie fleming for penalty drills. 

you knew of jessie due to her time at chelsea, but you weren’t friends with her. 

she was gentle with you from the beginning, jessie knew what you were going through. 

months later, you were doing better emotionally. besides sophia, you’ve been a star with the thorns. 

you’ve found yourself closer to the canadian on your team as well. 

jessie and you went on solo dates to cafes, national parks, record stores, anything you can think of. however, she always made a move on you– you never seemed to make a move on her. 

some of the girls noticed this, and you had to defend yourself. 

“do you like jess?” sophia asked one night, she had a cup of green tea in her right hand that she gently hands over to you. 

you take the mug and sip on the peppermint beverage, thinking about the question your bestfriend asked. 

“i do—” you pause. sophia almost speaks before you mumble,

“that’s scary.” 

“what’s scary?” sophia asked. she looks over at her fiancé who sits on the recliner in her apartment as you zone out, looking at a book on sophia’s coffee table. 

“the whole idea of getting into another relationship again.. everyone knows what happened last time.” you sigh as you take one more sip of the tea, before putting it down on the coffee table. 

sophia frowns before pulling you towards her. she wraps her arm around your shoulder as you sigh. 

hugs felt foreign to you recently. 

“you can’t let one bad relationship affect you for the rest of your life.” sophia whispers, scratching your back with her manicured nails as her fiance looks at you with sympathy. 

“that's the thing.. lena and i didn’t have a bad relationship. i thought everything was great until she tells me that she didn’t love me anymore and moves on to another girl in the same week. what did i do wrong? i don’t want jessie to see what lena might’ve seen in me and run away– you know?” you let yourself go from sophia’s arms and rub your eyes, resting your head in your hands as your elbows rest of your thighs. 

you never wanted to leave munich. 

lena used to be the love of your life, someone you dreamed of marrying.

dreams don’t come true– most times. 

“there’s nothing wrong with you, y/n.” sophia’s fiance, mike, says. 

sophia nods her head in agreement. 

“there is nothing wrong with you. you’re beautiful and you’re one of the best defenders in the world. she might kill me since i am telling you this– but jessie highly values you. she really likes you a lot and you should give her a chance whenever you’re ready.” sophia says, scratching your back before standing up to grab everyone a snack. 

a week later, jessie and you were walking out of a pizza place in the heart of portland. this was after an afternoon full of training then a tiny-bit of bar-hopping. 

in your mind, you knew that you had to make a move to show jessie that you did like her– and that you were ready to move on to her. 

“jessie, i’ve been having so much fun with you lately.” you say as you stand closer to her. 

the both of you were waiting on her uber ride, so you had to be quick before she left. 

“i’ve had a lot of fun with you too, y/n” she smiles. you blush– not realizing how much she’s made you happy lately. 

“i’m not going to cut corners with you jessie. i like you a lot. you’ve been my everything since i’ve arrived in portland.” you spill as a tear poured out of your right eye. 

jessie blushes as she takes her thumb and wipes your tear away. she holds your right arm and her left arm comes down to your waist. 

“i like you too y/n. trust me, you might’ve not been verbal about it– but i know how much you like me through your actions.” jessie quietly says as she leans in and kisses your cheek. 

the canadian was right. your subtle touches, hugs, praises at her during game-days, constant invites to events, and looks told her all that she needed to know. 

“can i be your girlfriend?” you mumble. 

a piece of jessie’s hair flys onto her face in the same moment, you take your fingers and move it behind her ear as she closes her eyes– relaxing as she hoped that you would be the one to ask. 

“yes you can, as long as i can be yours?” jessie smirks as you gave her a cheeky smile. 

“yes you can.” you gave her a peck on the lips.

<3

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Basket Full of Fall

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader, ft. jack

Summary: Toto and Jack surprise Y/n with an extravagant boo basket filled with autumnal treats and heartfelt touches

______________________________________________________________

Y/n sat comfortably on the couch, a throw blanket draped over her legs as the soft light of the autumn sun filtered through the windows. Her tea was still warm in her hands, and she was scrolling absentmindedly through her phone, reminiscing about the boo baskets she had fallen in love with last year. It had become something of a joke between her and Toto—how she had shown him TikTok after TikTok of couples exchanging adorable, cozy, fall-themed gift baskets.

She had teased Toto at the time, jokingly asking, "So, where’s my boo basket, hmm?" He had just smirked, pulling her close, and promised that maybe one day she’d get a surprise. But Y/n knew her husband wasn’t the type to jump on trendy gift ideas, so she hadn’t pushed it further. Little did she know, Toto had remembered every detail she mentioned.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Toto and Jack were busy at work, their task much bigger than the average boo basket. What started as a simple idea had spiraled into something much grander. The giant basket they’d chosen was practically overflowing, and Jack was already planning what to tell Y/n once she saw it.

“Papa, what about these fluffy socks? Should we put them in the front?” Jack asked, holding up a pair of soft orange socks with little pumpkin faces embroidered on them.

Toto crouched down, examining the basket. “I think that’s a good idea, Jack. She’ll see them right away.”

Carefully, Jack placed the socks right on top, making sure they peeked out over the rest of the items. The basket was already brimming with a mix of cozy fall essentials and thoughtful gifts. There was a cinnamon-scented candle in a beautiful glass jar, a soft knitted blanket in a warm rust color, and a variety of pumpkin spice-flavored snacks—everything from chocolates to cookies.

Toto had also picked up some more personal items for Y/n. He knew how much she loved curling up with a good book on chilly afternoons, so he added a new novel from one of her favorite authors. There was also a set of bath bombs scented with lavender and chamomile, perfect for the relaxing baths he knew she adored after long days.

“Do you think we have enough chocolate in here, Jack?” Toto asked, eyeing the assortment of treats.

Jack giggled. “There’s never enough chocolate, Papa.”

Toto smiled and shook his head, placing another small box of chocolates into the basket. He then reached for the special pumpkin centerpiece they had bought—an intricately carved ceramic pumpkin that glowed when you placed a small candle inside. It would be the perfect touch for their living room, adding to the cozy atmosphere Y/n loved so much during the fall.

Jack tugged at his father’s sleeve. “Don’t forget the card, Papa!”

Toto smiled softly. “Of course, how could I forget?”

He pulled out a small, carefully folded card from his pocket, the cover decorated with autumn leaves and pumpkins. Inside, he had written a heartfelt note:

To my love, Y/n. Last year, you showed me all those TikToks, and I pretended not to understand why they were important. But I knew how much these little things make you happy. So this is for you—your very own boo basket, from Jack and me, to the best mama and wife we could ever ask for. I love you.

Satisfied with the card, he slipped it into the basket, tucking it beside the candle.

"All done, Jack," Toto said, standing back to admire their handiwork. The basket looked massive, filled with all the warm, comforting items that made fall so special. He was sure Y/n would be surprised—maybe even speechless.

Jack was practically vibrating with excitement. "Can we show her now, Papa?"

Toto chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. "Yes, let’s surprise her."

Together, they carefully lifted the basket, with Toto handling most of the weight while Jack guided them through the house. As they approached the living room, Jack darted ahead, his excitement barely contained.

“Mama! Close your eyes!” Jack called out, bounding toward Y/n, who looked up from her phone with a puzzled smile.

“What are you up to?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just close them!” Jack insisted, and Y/n couldn’t help but laugh as she set her tea aside and covered her eyes with her hands.

“Alright, eyes closed!” she said, indulging him.

Toto followed quietly behind, the basket in his arms, his heart racing with anticipation. He knew Y/n would love it, but seeing her reaction was what he was most excited about.

He set the basket down in front of her and glanced at Jack. "Okay, Jack. Tell her she can open them."

Jack practically jumped. “Mama, open your eyes!”

Y/n slowly uncovered her eyes, and the moment she saw what was in front of her, she froze. Her mouth fell open in shock. There, sitting before her, was the most extravagant, oversized boo basket she had ever seen. It was almost comically large, brimming with every fall-themed item she could have imagined—and more. The beautiful autumn colors of the blankets and candles, the smell of cinnamon, and the sight of the chocolate treats filled her senses all at once.

"Toto… Jack… what is all this?" she asked, her voice soft, her hands going to her mouth in disbelief.

Jack, beaming with pride, clapped his hands. "It’s a boo basket! For you!"

Toto stood behind Jack, his eyes soft with love and a small, proud smile on his lips. "You kept showing me those TikToks last year, and I figured it was time to make one for you—our way."

Y/n's heart swelled as she took in every detail. The thoughtful gifts, the little touches that she knew had Toto’s and Jack’s fingerprints all over them. She reached for the card and read Toto's note, her eyes misting as she smiled.

“You two…” she whispered, overcome with emotion. “This is… this is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Jack jumped into her arms. "Do you like it, Mama?"

“I love it,” Y/n said, pulling Jack into a tight hug before reaching out for Toto’s hand, pulling him close as well. She wrapped her arms around both of them, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the basket itself. It was the love and care behind it—the way Toto remembered every little thing, the way Jack had helped with so much excitement.

Toto kissed her forehead softly, his hand resting on her back. "You deserve it, my love. Every bit of it."

Y/n, smiling through happy tears, looked back at the basket. “Well, I guess this officially makes you the king of boo baskets,” she teased, playfully nudging Toto.

He chuckled. “I’ll take that title.”

As they settled back onto the couch, Y/n surrounded by her new autumn treasures, Jack crawled into her lap, holding one of the stuffed pumpkins.

“I can’t believe you remembered all those TikToks,” she said, leaning against Toto as he wrapped his arm around her.

Toto smirked, his voice low and teasing. “How could I forget? You showed me at least fifty of them.”

Y/n laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well, it was worth it. This is perfect.”

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 1: Baking Cookies

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Baking Cookies (🌼)

Summary: You convince Matt to bake cookies with you, and it’s a rather… domestic scene.

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. That’s it. That’s the post.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/n: Day 1 of Fictober and we’re starting with something sweet! The -ber months always get me in the mood for cookies, especially chai tea or matcha cookies, so that’s what inspired me. Who wouldn’t want to bake cookies with Matt on a cold and rainy day? I know I would. If you want to be tagged for all fics of this event, let me know. Other than that, I am using my respective fluff and smut tag lists that I use for just about everything I write. But if you want to be tagged for both and aren't already on my tag list, feel free to tell me in the comments! Now, I’m so happy we all get to do another October together, and I can’t wait for you to see what I’ve got cooking for you! May you all come out of this sufficiently satisfied.

Read Me On AO3!

The streets of New York are bathed in a disarray of colors as dead leaves continue to fall off the half-green trees. Before you knew it, summer had slipped away into a moment in time. The heatwave that had terrorized the city turned colder with the end of September, and then suddenly, October was knocking on your door. 

You watch the rain trickle down the kitchen windows. The air smells of roasted cinnamon and coffee beans. The billboard outside shines brighter than the afternoon sun stuck behind a sky of gray, throwing a blanket of dark purple over the apartment, and the radio has been playing the same Beach House song on repeat for the past hour. But as you look over at the love of your life, his rough fingers delicately dancing over the label on the sugar jar to figure out what’s inside, there is no doubt in your mind that this is where you belong.

Matt is wearing the maroon sweater you knitted for him last Christmas. Once the seasons start changing, he pulls it out of the closet like he couldn’t wait to wear it again. Your hands crafted something for him to wear so he wouldn’t have to suffer through the cold anymore; there are not enough words in the English language to describe how much that means to him, but you know. You always know.

He looks almost content, standing there with his hair tousled, glasses discarded somewhere in the living room, and a faint smile on his lips. His brown eyes are so soft they remind you of the hazelnut coffee you shared before you suggested, “You want to bake some cookies?”

Much to your surprise, Matt didn’t argue. You expected him to tell you that it’s not Christmas yet, and you were prepared to tell him that cookies don’t need a specific season to be baked. But his face lit up as soon as the words had left your mouth, and he was more than eager to spend the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen with you. 

“How much sugar do we need?” he asks. 

You look down at the handwritten chai cookie recipe he picked out. “Uh, half a cup,” you say. 

He nods, eyebrows furrowing in utmost concentration as his hands feel around the countertop for the measuring cups. You gently place your hand over yours and guide it to the cold plastic. 

His smile widens. “Thank you.”

You look at him like he’s the only man in the world, and to you, he is. It’s not often the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen lets someone into his heart, you learned, but you only fell harder for him when he finally did. He’s beautiful and not at all perfect, but he is all you want.

“Sugar?” Matt snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“Right,” you murmur. “Half a cup.”

He can probably hear your heart racing, hammering against your ribcage. You guide your joined hands into the sugar, filling it only half before moving over to the bowl with the other dry ingredients. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even comment on how flustered you are, he just holds on tightly to your hands as though he is afraid you might slip away if he doesn’t. 

It is a different kind of intimacy that’s almost sensual, bodies brushing as you get a whisk to mix it all together, your hand over his and the rain pattering against the window in tune with the radio. 

The cinnamon and the chai tea mix with the faint note of Matt’s cologne on your body, on his shirt, and the scent is unlike anything you could possibly describe. You find yourself leaning closer, impossibly closer, barely stirring anymore. He’s home. He’s your home. 

“Is this part of the recipe?” Matt murmurs. 

You hum. “This step is called stirring the batter.”

He smiles against your temple. “Mh. I like this step.”

“Me too.”

One of his hands slips from yours and comes to rest around your waist, swaying you to the music. You wouldn’t dare break this magic.

“Is there a step called ‘Kiss my future Mrs. Murdock’?” he asks then.

Blood rushes to your head. You’re so fucking happy. A giggle slips past your lips. “I think that’s the next step,” you say. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He bridges the gap between you like a man starved, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that knocks the air right out of your fragile lungs. His hand tugs you just a little closer. You belong to me, the action screams. And while you would never allow yourself to be considered someone’s property, it is nice to be wanted. To be needed. To be desired like you are the only thing on his mind, and treated right. Because you deserve it.

After a moment, he pulls away. His unfocused eyes roam your face, but you know he is only listening to your heartbeat, smelling you, feeling you—that’s how he sees you. 

“What’s next?” he asks softly. 

You peek down at the batter, then look back at him. Your mind is still reeling from the kiss, but you manage to pull yourself together enough to say, “Wet ingredients.”

“Oh?”

“Not like that, you pervert!” 

Matt chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking about it.” You swat his chest. “I wanted to bake cookies, so let’s bake some damn cookies.”

If you don’t pull away now, you’re sure you won’t get anywhere tonight. 

“Is that what we’re doing?” he teases. 

You nod. “That’s what we’re doing.”

He takes whatever you give him, and does whatever you tell him to until the cookies are finally in the oven. He doesn’t waste another second before pulling you back into his arms.

“Hi,” he says. 

You smile back at him. “Hi to you, too.”

“You forgot this…” You watch as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a ring—your ring.

It was only natural for him to ask you to marry him. He’d been waiting an eternity to do so. No one knows him like you do. No one sees him like you do, and no one loves him quite like you. You’ve seen him at his best and his worst, and you love him not despite but regardless of all of his demons. He doesn’t know what he did to ever deserve you. Quite frankly, he’s not sure he will ever be worthy, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

Matt had gotten so used to people walking out on him before you came along that he truly believed he was beyond redemption. Beyond saving. But then you tore open the manifest of his soul, read all the pages, and you gave him your heart anyway. He has not let a day go by where he hasn’t at least tried to do right by you. To take care of you. To love you. To carry you in his very hands like the fucking ethereal being that you are. He’s so scared of losing you, he sometimes loses sight of what he wants just to make you happy, but it’s worth seeing the smile on your face when he brings you flowers he thinks smell like you, or when he gets dinner from your favorite restaurant to surprise you after a long day at work. 

Matt’s only purpose in life is to make you happy because he knows you give him the world in return, a kind of love he never thought he would get to experience. It’s unconditional, it’s deep, and at times, it hurts, but he’s learning what it is like to appreciate the life he was given.

He would steal the stars for you if you wanted them. He would die for you, and sometimes he thinks he might even kill for you. Break all of his rules just to make sure you stay unharmed. He would go up against God, even, if it meant you wouldn’t have to suffer. He would not survive losing you, and sometimes, that scares him.

It has been a long road for him, and at times it felt like he was carrying a wooden cross on his back like Jesus did, but all the suffering eventually led to a sense of peace. He learned how to love again—to love you. After Elektra, after putting Fisk away, after everything, he allowed himself to settle down. And he knew shortly after he met you that he was going to marry you. 

You wrap your hand around the ring in his hand, and he gasps softly as he returns to reality. “Didn’t want it to get dirty,” you whisper. 

Matt slips it on your finger, and it feels again like the first time he did it. “I know. I kept it safe for you,” he says. A pause, and then, “I love you… Mrs. Murdock.”

He will never tire of saying it. Not even when you’re old and gray and you can’t remember where you put your godforsaken glasses. 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you, Mr. Murdock. And I can’t wait to marry you.”

The honesty in your voice overwhelms him. “You mean that?” 

“With all my heart,” you promise.

The words take a second to seep in, to withstand the doubts that are always raging inside of him, but then he pulls you in, and he kisses you again. He kisses you like his life depends on it, the delicious smell of chai tea cookies filling the air, and it’s the safest you know you are ever going to be—here, with him, and in his arms. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes

[reginamillls]

have some of my 911 Once Upon a Time AU

* * *

"Uncle Buck-" Jee says and Buck looks down at her lap, but she wasn't looking up at him, instead her finger was pointed to the page of her storybook where a beautiful woman was laying amongst a field of flowers.

"I don't know bunny," Buck says amused. "I don't think I can fit in that dress."

"No that's you," Jee insists and she looks up at Buck then. "You but diff- differ-"

"Different?" Buck prompts and Jee nods her head smiling.

"You think I'm Beauty? And not the Beast?" Buck asks, curious now and Jee nods her head and she turns the page.

The beast in this storybook is massive. A tall creature that stands on it's hind legs. His paws are large, ending in wicked looking claws and his teeth are just as sharp. He's terrifying at first glance, but Buck has read this book with Jee before and he knows that the terrifying expression on the Beast's face softens as he finds love with Beauty.

His blue eyes, the same color as twilight, seem to shine when he looks at Beauty.

He should have wings. Buck thinks as his finger traces the illustration. It's wrong somehow, but Buck has never thought that before. The features are different, the color of his fur should be darker-

Buck shakes away the suddenly strange thoughts and Jee turns the page again.

"I've never been Beauty before?" Buck asks. In the dozens of times they've read this fairytale, Buck has been many things in their world of pretend. Dragons and Princes and Knights. He's even been Alice and everytime Jee-Yun has laughed and gone with their make believe.

She sounds so serious now.

Buck wants to ask know, he wants to know who the Beast could be - when Chimney comes in, a grim look on his face.

"Sorry Buck," Chim says as he comes into the room, wiping the grease from his forehead with a frown. "You need more than just my knowledge for the jeep. You need a proffesional."

Buck sighs, letting his head fall ontop of Jee's which makes her giggle and tell Buck that he had a heavy head. It was a little bit of a balm to the dissapointment he had in Chim not being able to get her to start.

"Is there even a mechanic in Storybrooke?" Buck asks. He's had his Jeep for years, and he's never needed help with it before, Buck can't even think of the last time he needed an oil change.

"There's one on the outskirts of town, right next to the lake. It's called Harbor," Chimney says. "Guy who runs it, he doesn't really come into town that much."

"You know him?" Buck asks and Chimney's brows furrow his gaze going distant for a moment-

"I've seen him in town," Chimney says finally, his voice more monotone then before, almost rehearsed.

Buck has a moment of thinking it strange-

"I think your jeep has enough life in her to make it out that way," Chimney explains as he goes to the kitchen to clean up. Buck kisses Jee's head before setting her down on the couch by herself and goes to follow his brother in law.

"Do you want us to come with?" Chimney asks and Buck shakes his head.

"Nah," He smiles. "Jee missed her Dad, you to should snuggle up with her," Buck suggests with a grin. "Maybe watch a movie with her."

"Yeah," Chimney says and his eyes glance over to where Jee was arranging her stuffed animals carefully by her tea set. She was quietly singing to herself in one of the many songs she would make up on the spot.

Chimney's smile turns sad and Buck follows his eyes to the picture of Maddie that hung on the wall.

Buck feels something tighten in his chest, and he reaches out and puts an arm around Chimney, hugging him close.

They don't talk about Maddie outside of telling Jee about her memory.

"Get out of here before Jee asks you to stay," Chimney jokes, pushing playfully at Buck. "I don't want to lose my snuggle bunny for the night."

Buck goes to say his goodbyes, giving Jee an extra big hug and promising to see her soon.

The drive there is miserable. The jeep sputters and groans on the way there and Buck repeatedly pets the dashboard and begs it to make it just a little bit further.

It's not a long drive, Storybrooke is a small town, but it's the furthest he had to drive in -

He can't remember how long.

The shop itself is unassuming, more of a large garage connected to a small house than anything else. Next to it is a small junkyard, filled with rusting cars, broken appliances and a small biplane that surprises Buck to see. He doesn't remember ever seeing a plane fly over Storybrooke.

Shaking his head away from the strange thought, Buck moves to go into the shop.

There's a thick metal door up front, and Buck would think it looked unwelcoming if it werent for the crooked open sign. He pushes at it, and the hinges move smoothly despite the weight. It's well taken care of.

Despite how the outside looks, the inside feels more welcoming. There's a small couch next to a desk that sits at the corner of the garage. The couch is well loved but clean, and Buck can imagine sitting comfortably in it, maybe even reading from one of the many books that are crammed into the book case next to the couch.

A sign says to ring the bell for service and Buck does so, tapping it three times.

He rocks on his heels, turning to look at the shelf with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, pulling the fabric in front of him.

Buck reaches out again and taps the bell.

"I heard you," A gruff voice says and Buck turns to look at the owner of the voice.

He's a tall man, as tall as Buck is himself and broad.

The man steps from the shadows, and Buck's eyes widen.

There are scars on the man's face that span further down, hidden by the collar of the man's jumper. One of them pulls at his mouth, making it look like he was frowning.

Beyond the scars though are a pair of blue eyes.

The same color as twilight.

part two here

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

Forbidden Crown - IV

Summary: Your dreaded twentieth birthday has finally arrived, and you and your parents set off to Tir Asleen for one final time to plan your wedding to Prince Airk. However, at the celebration dinner, Sorsha delivers some shocking news, sending Kit into a spiral and creating conflict within the castle.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: angst, fighting, kissing, non-explicit mention of vomiting, forced marriage trope, mommy issues

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: this was supposed to be the smut chapter, but I decided to divide the two, since it seemed odd to add sexy time to such a dark chapter. Apologies in advance for all the angst, I promise it won’t last forever!

Ever since your mother’s announcement of your engagement, each birthday after your fifteenth seemed to creep up, startling you out of nowhere and filling your stomach with existential dread. The once joyous celebrations now felt like ticking time bombs, every well-wish serving as a countdown to a life you never wanted.

On the morning of your twentieth birthday, you woke up to nothing but nausea. When your handmaiden entered your room to get you ready for the day, she found you kneeled over your chamberpot, heaving up the shallow remains of your stomach's content. Needless to say, your twentieth birthday was spent hidden under your covers, drinking ginger tea and being waited on hand-and-foot.

Alas, it was only a matter of time before you began to feel better. After several days of sickness, your body had nothing more to heave. The moment some color started to return to your pale cheeks, your parents ushered you into the carriage and set off for Tir Asleen, where you would stay for two months while preparing for your wedding to Prince Airk Tanthalos.

As usual, the road to Tir Asleen was long and slow. You tried to numb yourself to your parents' endless chatter, but your mother decided to fuss over your appearance throughout the entire trip, as if you were a child again.

“This is the first time you’ve seen your fiancé in five years,” she would say. “You’ve grown into a lovely young woman since, it is important for Airk to notice!”

Your cheeks instinctually puffed out at the word ‘fiancé,’ but your stomach was so empty from the long illness that nothing could come up even if it wanted to. Instead, you opted for tucking your head in between your knees, closing your eyes and muffling all unwanted noise from the outside world.

Eventually, the gentle clip-clop of the carriage horse faded as you reached the front of the Tir Asleen castle. You uncovered your head and allowed your parents to exit first, using the extra seconds to let your blood flow redistribute itself.

After hearing the sound of your mother squealing pleasantries from outside, you decided to make your presence known. You stepped out of the carriage to see your mother engulfing Airk in a bear hug, showering him with words of flattery while he chuckled nervously and tried to mask his discomfort. Your father, who had been exchanging formalities with Queen Sorsha, was now gently patting his wife’s back, attempting to subtly pry her off the poor boy.

While you stood watching the amusing display from your family, you didn’t even notice Kit approaching you from behind, wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning into your ear.

“Good morrow, beautiful.” She whispered, her warm breath against your neck causing you to shudder involuntarily.

“Beautiful?” You giggled. “Be careful, our parents' eyes could be upon us.”

“Nonsense,” she replied, planting a soft kiss on your jawline. “They’re much too focused on my brother. It’s just one of the benefits of being the black sheep of the family.”

Sure enough, Kit was right. Your father had managed to successfully pry your mother away from Airk, and now both your parents were bombarding him with questions about his life the last five years while Sorsha stood proudly beside him.

With one final squeeze, Kit loosened her grasp until you could turn around to get a good look at her. She had always been pretty, at least in your eyes, but over the years had grown into a stunning young lady. Her hair was no longer a muddy indigo black, but rather restored back to her natural chocolate-brown, and styled akin to the tresses of woodland sprites. She had grown into herself, with her face defined by striking cheekbones and eyes that seemed to get bluer with every visit. The fabric of her tunic clung to her skin, accentuating every new curve as well as the definition on her upper arms, muscular from combat training.

Before you could even begin to speak, Kit placed her hands on either side of your head and ran them through your hair, gazing down at you lovingly. “Truly, beautiful.”

“I do apologize for her appearance, Prince Airk! She doesn’t usually look this dreadful! She’s been terribly ill!”

You turned around to see your mother leading Airk over to you, speaking loudly about your demeanor. Any confidence inspired by Kit vanished at her harsh remarks, and you drew into yourself.

“Good morrow, Princess,” Airk greeted you with an awkward bow and a tight-lipped smile. Ever since you audibly gagged and ran off after taking his first kiss, the two of you hadn’t necessarily spoken.

You cleared your throat, offering back a perfunctory curtsy. “And to you as well.”

“My, my! Someone has grown quite slender!” Sorsha’s voice called out, approaching the four of you with your father in tow.

You looked down at yourself. Sure enough, your ailment had withered you away, making your once perfectly-fitting gown now hang off you like the tendrils of a willow tree. Your mother noticed this too, because she immediately inserted herself between you and Airk to resume nitpicking your appearance.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Airk and Sorsha! My daughter has had an illness. She’s feeling well now, but she still looks absolutely dreadful! I’m sure her gowns will fit right in due time, but…” she turned her attention towards your face. “…darling! Your complexion! You resemble a ghostly wight! Couldn’t you have bothered to apply a touch of rouge?”

“You’ve raised a beautiful daughter, your highness.” Kit stepped to your side and snaked her arm around your waist. Your breath hitched at her touch, and you worried your parents may catch on to your secret with how bold she was being. Still, you tried to hide the blush that crept onto your cheeks after she stood up for you.

Your mother looked between you and Kit, and you could've sworn you saw her eyes flicker with a hint of suspicion. However, she simply grimaced in Kit’s direction, offering pleasantries purely for display. “Yes, well, much obliged, Kit.”

Kit responded with a grin that was polite, yet cocky. Your mother cleared her throat, quickly recomposing herself before taking your hand and joining it with Airk’s.

“I must say, you two, I am absolutely elated for this union! A royal wedding, why I don’t believe I’ve attended one since my own! The two of you make a very attractive pair.”

Airk forced a grin in your direction, looking down at your conjoined hands instead of at you. As your mother continued to ramble on about the party planning, you peered over Airk’s shoulder and noticed a blond girl standing in the distance, carrying a serving tray, and glaring daggers into your soul…

“That would be Muffin Girl,” Kit explained later that day when you asked about the mysterious blond. The two of you had managed to break away from the group long enough to take a leisurely stroll through the Tir Asleen gardens.

“Muffin Girl?” You inquired.

“That or Miss Muffin, whichever you’d prefer.”

You shot her a quizzical expression, causing her to chuckle heartily. “Well it’s not her real name, clearly. She’s one of the kitchen maids, and her signature dish are these buttered muffins she serves at breakfast.”

“She was glaring at me earlier while my mother discussed wedding plans,” you said. “I almost thought she would break her tray in half.”

Kit hummed in agreement. “Jealousy. It makes sense. She is my brother's latest lover.”

“Pardon?” You froze in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Kit leaned back against a tree, crossing her arms and gazing at you with a pointed brow. “I hate to inform you, Princess, but my brother has become quite the ladies’ man since your ‘dalliance’ in the courtyard. Muffin Girl is just his latest conquest.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Sure, you didn’t love Airk, or were even remotely attracted to him, but he was still your betrothed.

Kit smirked at your stunned expression. “Surely you’re not jealous, are you?” She moved closer until her face was mere inches from yours. “I can’t imagine it would drive you mad. My brother, your fiancé, rolling around in the grass with a scullion? Cheeks flushed, legs intertwined, her leaving little bruises on his…”

You cut her off with a playful smack on the shoulder. “Hold your tongue, Tanthalos.” She giggled at her lighthearted taunts, causing a smile to spread across your face. “I’m not jealous, rather shocked. He’s engaged… to me… and Queen Sorsha is allowing this affair?”

With another chuckle, Kit teasingly ruffled your hair. “Oh Princess… you really assume my mother is at all aware?”

You gasped, leaning in closer to Kit to whisper. “She doesn’t know?”

“I’m sure she suspects something, what with the aforementioned bruises, but knowing my mother, she’d rather stay with the mindset that her son is still a moralistic virgin.”

Kit pulled you in closer, pressing your body against hers until your noses barely brushed together. “I suppose this is just one more secret between us, don’t you think Princess?”

You giggled, quickly making sure the coast was clear before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for a sweet kiss.

That evening, the six of you gathered for a hearty supper to celebrate your reunion. Servants bustled about carrying various dishes, including the mysterious ‘muffin girl.’ You couldn’t help but observe the longing glances exchanged between her and Airk, lingering between each course like a seed caught between teeth.

Just as you and Kit were stifling a laugh over their latest lust-filled gaze, Queen Sorsha rose, tapping silverware against her raised glass. The table quieted, all eyes fixed on the regal woman as you awaited her speech.

“Friends, family,” she began. “I am pleased that we’ve all gathered here this evening to begin wedding plans for the Prince of Tir Asleen and the Princess of Azarenth.”

Your parents clapped excitedly. Airk stared down at his lap while you and Kit exchanged vexed glances.

“Even more pleased,” Sorsha continued. “That the forthcoming ceremony will feature an extra element, making it a profoundly rare occasion!”

Her words puzzled you, and a quick look around the table confirmed that the twins seemed just as confused. Your parents however, shared knowing grins, clearly in on the secret.

“The King and Queen of Azarenth have graciously agreed to turn their daughter’s wedding into a double wedding!” Sorsha turned to meet her daughter’s gaze. “Kit…”

You whipped around to face Kit, who stared at her mother, frozen, her expression a mixture of confusion and fear. “You remember when we discussed the Prince of Galladoorn, don’t you?”

Kit nodded. “Sure we discussed him, but then he fell out of a tree and died, right?”

“Kit!” Sorsha scolded before quickly recomposing herself. “It’s true, Dermot Hastur had an untimely death,” she held her glass to her heart solemnly. “However, it appears Galladoorn is still interested in an alliance, and King Hastur has a younger son, Graydon.”

Your heart dropped as you realized what Sorsha was saying. Glancing back at Kit, you saw her face now stricken with terror. “Mother… no…”

Ignoring her daughter, Sorsha simply raised her glass again. “It’s my pleasure to announce the engagement of Prince Graydon Hastur to my daughter, Princess Kit Tanthalos!”

“No!” Kit exclaimed.

“What?” The shriek came from a disembodied voice. Only after you received shocked expressions from each member of the table did you realize the voice was yours.

Your mother squinted at you, the corners of her mouth flickering sardonically. “My dear, I didn’t expect you to be upset at sharing the limelight! After all, you and Kit are such good… friends.”

You glared at your mother head-on, suppressing every urge to lunge at her from across the table. She said nothing more, instead turning away to innocently sip her wine.

Kit was in the midst of her own altercation, arguing her case with pleading eyes. “Mother, please… I cannot marry Prince Graydon!”

“And just why not?” Sorsha demanded. “Prince Graydon is an esteemed young man, his parents speak very highly of him.”

“I’ve never even met him!” Kit’s voice wavered in stifled sobs.

“You will before the wedding, now that is quite enough! It is your duty to your kingdom. I don’t want to hear another word about this until the alliance is signed, and that is final!”

Kit slammed her hands on the table, tears falling as she ran away. Sorsha screamed after her until the sound of her bedchamber door slamming reverberated across the room. The table fell silent, none of you knowing where to look. After a moment, Airk cleared his throat, breaking the tension as he rearranged the silverware on his plate.

“May I be excused, mother?” He muttered.

Sorsha sighed, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. He got up quietly, exiting the room and making a beeline for Kit’s door. The remaining four of you resumed picking at your food, the sound of silverware scratching against glass dishes only deepening the stillness of the room.

As you pushed your food around, you couldn’t help but steal glances in the direction of Kit’s door. You turned to your mother, wanting to speak.

“Let it be a passing thought,” she denied your unspoken request, not bothering to look up from her plate.

Fortunately, dinner didn't drag on much longer after the commotion subsided. Once everyone had hastily departed from the table, you made your way to Kit’s room and positioned yourself outside her door. Kit’s muffled sobs mingled with Airk’s whispered words from the other side of the wooden barrier, causing you to pause before entering, afraid of disrupting them.

Just when you were about to throw caution to the wind and grasp the handle, the door swung open, revealing Airk. He startled at your unexpected presence and closed Kit’s door behind him.

“Uh… hi…” he muttered lamely.

“Hello there,” you replied softly.

The two of you stood silently in front of Kit’s door, a multitude of unanswered questions hanging in the air that neither of you knew how to ask.

“She’s, uh…” Airk broke the silence, jerking his head towards Kit’s door. “…having a difficult time coming to terms… with everything.”

You nodded slowly. “Were you… able to get through to her? At all?”

“Inconsolable,” he admitted regretfully. “I haven’t seen her this distraught since… our father…”

You winced, recalling the initial heartbreak Kit faced when her father’s letters stopped arriving ten years ago.

“I understand…” he continued. “I also know what it’s like to be forced into a loveless marriage.”

His gaze bore into yours, carefully chosen words that riddled you with guilt. You knew you had no right to hurt feelings after that night in the courtyard, but you couldn’t help the sharp pang that hit your chest like a piercing arrow.

“Airk…” you sighed, overwhelmed with remorse. “Please let me apologize for that night…”

“No need,” he interrupted coolly. “It’s really quite alright…”

“It’s not,” you insisted. “My reaction… I assure you… had nothing to do with your character, or your appearance, or anything, really. It wasn’t about you, it was never about you, it…” you took a deep breath, your secret weighed on your shoulders as if it was carved from stone. “Airk… I’m in love with someone else.”

Airk looked taken aback. “Pardon?”

“My hand belongs to you…” your voice trembled. “…but my heart belongs to another.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek. You shut your eyes tightly, the burden of your secret lifting but replaced with overwhelming fear. Airk stood, silently, his expression cycling through shock, relief, confusion, and finally… sympathy.

“Likewise…” he whispered, causing you to look at him again. “There’s this… local maiden, a quiet beauty who carries herself with the gentle elegance of a dove. She may not have been born into privilege, but she’s captivated me. My heart belongs to her.”

He looked at you, expecting a reaction. You attempted to feign surprise, but ended up failing miserably. He smirked. “Was it that evident?”

You chuckled. “With all of your enticing stares at dinner, it almost felt as if I were intruding on something private!”

He laughed airily along with you, long-standing tension finally broken. You started to relax, feeling a weight lift as you and Airk came to an unspoken forgiveness. He smiled warmly, genuinely at you before his expression turned serious once again.

“I hope you know I would hate for my mother to receive word of this,” he said in a low voice.

You nodded in agreement. “You needn’t worry, my lips are sealed. I understand what it’s like… living with secrets.”

He waited for you to continue, but you simply folded your hands in front of you and smiled, silently refusing to speak further.

Airk departed soon after your conversation ended, leaving you once again face-to-face with Kit’s door. You raised your knuckle to the chestnut wood, giving it two gentle raps.

No response.

With a shaky hand, you turned the handle and opened the door with a slow, steady creak. Kit lay flat on her bed, motionless, staring at the ceiling. She made no indication of noticing your presence, so you stepped inside and carefully closed the door with a click.

No response.

Stars studded the now-blackened night sky through a small window in the corner. The room’s only light source was a flickering candle that cast shadows over Kit’s unmoving body and danced along the wrinkles of her garments. You stood near the entrance, watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

“Which is worse?”

The sudden sound of her voice startled you. “Pardon?”

“I’m wondering…” she sat up, dangling her legs over the edge of her bed. “…which is worse? Spending half a decade counting down the seconds until you’re forced into an unwanted marriage, or having it thrust upon you without warning?”

She met your gaze, expecting an answer. You had none. She continued.

“On the one hand, the first option reads torturously, like sitting on death row waiting for execution,” she contemplated, deep in thought. “But on the other hand, it allows for processing time, providing an opportunity to numb yourself to the situation.”

She looked back over to you, her expression stoic. “What do you think?”

“I think I won’t ever be numb to the situation,” you replied with a half-smile.

Kit gave a halfhearted chuckle, staring down at her feet. You moved to sit next to her on the bed, resting a soothing hand on her back. She sighed. “You don’t know how fortunate you are.”

You furrowed your brow. “How do you mean?”

“You’re betrothed to my brother,” she answered. “Someone you grew up with, someone you trust.”

You frowned. “Kit, Airk and I may have history, but I’m still being forced into a loveless marriage. You and I suffer the same plight.”

Kit’s eyes seemed to glaze over as she began to speak in a small voice. “You truly believe our situations are at all similar?”

You removed your hand from her back and leaned slightly away from her. “Kit…”

“Do you?” Her fingers clenched the bedsheets as she finally met your gaze. “I am marrying a man I’ve never met, so I can help form an alliance with a kingdom I’ve never visited! My entire life is conforming to the whims of my mother, do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“Have you observed my mother?” You shot back, standing up from the bed. “Sometimes I wonder whether or not she cares if I live or die, just as long as I marry Airk to keep up appearances like a performing minstrel!”

“Cry me a river, Princess!” Kit growled, also abandoning the bed. “My sincerest apologies that you have a mother that gave you fifteen years to become accustomed to her chosen spouse, and a father to give you away at the altar!”

You softened your gaze, realizing a large part of the reason for Kit’s distress. “Kit, I didn’t…”

“I’ll have to walk down the aisle with Airk!” She interrupted, angry tears now streaming down her face. “There was enough prattle when news of my father’s disappearance spread, and now all of Galladoorn and Tir Asleen combined is going to witness me being given away by my own brother. So don’t you dare stand there and claim that you and I ‘suffer the same plight!’”

“Kit!” Your voice wavered, a tightness in your chest threatened to unleash a flood of tears. “That was not my intent, and you know it. You're hurting, and you have my deepest sympathies…”

“I don’t need your sympathy…”

“Then don’t take it!” Your voice cut through the air, sharp and defensive. “All I said is that I share your pain in being forced into a marriage with someone you don’t love. I don’t understand why you’re so angry with me.”

Kit bit her lip, sniffling and wiping away tears. Her red, puffy eyes struggled to meet yours as she searched for more words to use as a line of defense.

“Because marriage isn’t about love, Princess,” she finally replied. “And frankly, your lack of realization is troubling.”

Her words brought a lump to your throat, like a boulder lodged within a narrow cave. Without another word, you spun on your heel and walked out of Kit’s room, making sure the wooden barrier slammed shut behind you before giving into the tears that had been threatening to fall.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @love4lyn @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sophi4v13 @detmarmalade

[pholla-jm]

My Husband

IMAGINE: MY HUSBAND GENRE: FLUFF characters: satoru, megumi, yuji, nanami, suguru cw: gn reader. use of wife. not proof read. **************

Gojo Satoru:

You hear an audible gasp from behind you, while you start to pay the cashier. 

As soon as you finish paying, you turn around to face Satoru who has a glowing grin on his face. 

“What’s the matter with you?” You ask him. 

“Nothing….wifey.” 

You side-eye him, “Wifey?” 

“Yeah, you called me your husband. So it’s only right that I call you my wifey.” 

“Ohh, did I call you husband?” 

Satoru slings an arm around your shoulders, bringing you in closer. 

“Here you go.” The worker says while handing you the order. 

“Thank you.” 

“Isn’t my wifey so beautiful?” He tells the worker. 

Your face burns up at his words. 

“Oh my god…”  you mutter under your breath. 

“Ignore him, please.” You tell the worker, and they nod at you in thanks. 

You grab the items, hand Satoru the kikufuku, and walk away. 

“Wait up, wifey!” He shouts after you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t worry.” He says after catching up to you, “one day you’ll be able to call me your husband one day.”

Megumi:

The both of you were planning a date until you bumped into some friends. 

Megumi didn’t say anything. He only stood behind you, on his phone barely paying attention to the conversation. 

He didn’t care what was happening, but he sure wished you would hurry up. 

It was like one of those situations when your mom sees an old friend and they talk forever. 

He wasn’t paying attention until he heard your last sentence. 

“Well, I have to go. My husband and I are supposed to go on a date.” You say and Megumi feels his heart jump at your words. 

“Let’s go,” you say while grabbing Megumi’s arm and dragging him away.

You glance over at him, noticing the pink shade on his face. You shove him a little, gaining his attention. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Megumi shakes his head. 

“Are you sure? You’re kind of pink.”

“Yeah… it’s your fault.” He mutters but you are still able to hear him.

You let out a small laugh, “how is it my fault?”

“You know.” 

You were silent for a bit and then you realized. 

“Oh! I called you husband, didn’t I?” 

Megumi didn’t answer, but the redness on his cheeks was enough of an answer. 

You let out another giggle, “oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I like it.” Megumi whispers and you freeze. 

Now it’s your turn to turn red in the face.

Yuji Itadori:

“Ooh, ooh. Right now would be a great time for a picture.” You say pulling out your phone. 

The sky was setting into a beautiful sunset. The sky is full of colors purples, pinks, and oranges. 

Flipping the phone over to selfie mode; you point it towards Yuji and you. 

Yuji largely grins at the phone, squishing his face against yours. His infectious smile caused you to grin so large that your cheeks turned pink. 

You snapped the picture, happily looking at the picture of you two. 

“Awe, this is so cute. You’re so cute.” You say while getting ready to post it on every single one of your social media. 

“No, you’re cuter.” 

“No way. My husband is so much cuter.” You mutter and Yuji’s eyes widen. 

“Husband?!”

He leans over, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

You didn’t answer him. 

“Did you call me your husband?” 

“Hmm,” you turn your head, “oh. Oops. I guess I did.” 

Yuji plants a kiss on your cheek. “It’s okay. I like the sound of it. Husband. And you’ll be my wife! Oh, imagine just having my last name.” 

You laugh, “Oh Yuji, I’ve already been imagining your last name with my name. (y/n) Itadori. Sounds cute, right?” 

Yuji looks at you with a love-struck look. 

“You’re amazing.”

Nanami:

Nanami is a gentleman at heart. Always offering to run errands with you to lessen your carry load. 

Nanami was pushing the cart, while you were reading over the list. 

Nanami peeks over at your list, “oh. You forgot to add our tea to the list.” “We’re running low?” “Yeah.” “Oh, I didn’t know.” 

“Awe, what a cute couple.” You hear a lady’s voice say. 

The both of you turn to the voice, seeing an older couple. 

Both of them looking at you in complete adoration. 

Reminiscing on the old days that they shared together. 

You smile at them, “thank you. My husband is just the best.” 

Nanami’s eyes widen hearing your words. 

“Awe, just so cute.” The old lady says before her and her husband walk away. 

Nanami grabs onto your hand, grabbing your attention. 

“Husband?” He asks and your eyes widen too. “Oops, did I say that out loud?” 

He chuckles and nods his head. Your face slowly turns red at the realization. “Uh, well. I didn’t mean it. Well maybe I did? Well I do know that I want to marry you one day, and I know that we’re not actually married right now. So I don’t know why I said husband but-” 

Nanami suddenly cuts you off by leaning down and snatching the air right out of your mouth. 

He pulls away, and you’re too stunned to speak. He always seemed to know what to do when you ramble. 

“It’s okay darling. I plan on marrying you someday too.”

Suguru Geto:

Suguru is the best man you could ever ask for. 

He can always predict your needs before you even need it. 

That’s why you’re head laid in his lap, his hand massaging through your hair. Fingers massaging at your scalp. Smoothing out any knot or soreness that weighed you down. 

The small moans you released from time to time were borderline pornographic. It would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good. 

“Ugh, you’re the best husband ever.” 

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could even stop it. 

You could feel his hands stop moving and you began to get nervous that you freaked Suguru out. 

Your eyes opened and you began to sit up. 

“I am so sorry, I didn’t-” 

Suguru just smiles at you, pushing your head back down into his lap. 

You tense up a little bit, not knowing what to do. 

He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay. I see you as my wife as well.” 

A large grin breaks out on your face, “really?” 

“Really. Once I save up enough money, you’ll have the best engagement ring in the world.” 

You giggle, “I don’t need the best engagement ring. I only need you.” “Well, you deserve the best. So I’m going to make sure you get the best.” 

“I already have the best, right in front of me.”

[gayassbish]

Genshin Siblings’ Reactions to Their Sister Having a Girlfriend!

Genre: Fluff, slight crack, (minor Angst in Jean and Barbara’s part)

Reader: Female*

Characters: Ayato & Thoma with Ayaka, Lyney & Freminet with Lynnett, Jean with Barbara, and Extra! Aether with Lumine

Ayato & Thoma-

On a typical evening when Ayato was finishing his daily quota and Thoma was doing his last rounds around the residence, Ayaka boldly enters in, hand in hand with you.

Ayato immediately takes notice, wondering ‘who tf is this bitc-‘ Kidding, he’s just like ‘who are you?’ in his head. And Thoma smirks, as if he already knows something.

The thing is, Ayaka decided to come out to Ayato when she would eventually have a girlfriend to introduce to him.

So when Ayaka asks if the four of you could have dinner together, with her new “friend,” Ayato instantly thinks something is up. His main suspicions are that you ran away from home with your raggedy looking- But he is worried you’re either homeless or in danger. Not really thinking Ayaka wants to introduce a friend, not even taking notice of the way Ayaka looks at you, and not noting your body language around her.

After introductions, the four of y’all are sat around the square table (Kotatsu). Thoma brings a cake with writing saying, ‘Yay! You’re Gay,’ in frosting but it slips pass Ayato as he doesn’t take his eyes off you two.

Once Thoma sits down, Ayaka clears her throat and breaks the big news. “Okay… big brother please don’t be mad. I know you wanted me to remain single for the rest of my life and be lonely till the ends of time-“

Ayato interrupts, not happy with the accusation that is thrown at him. “What? What nonsense why would I want you to be alone? They would just have to be a sensible guy-“

“Ugh! would you let me finish?” Ayaka rolls her eye and interrupts her big brother back. Thoma gives you a soft smile, mouthing the words ‘You better get used to this.’ “Anyways.. like I was saying. I found someone and they’re not a guy so-” Ayaka turns to look at you and Ayato’s jaw drops.

“You’re not homeless?” Ayato exclaims, shock and surprise written on his face. Evidently, the news for Ayaka and you together hasn’t hit him yet.

“Ayato!” Thoma and Ayaka yell simultaneously, while you laugh. Ayato almost looks embarrassed at his words, but you chime in before he can say anything else stupid.

“No, but I am your sisters girlfriend if you’re okay with that…” You look to Ayaka and give her hand a squeeze. She’s been pretty nervous about this whole meeting and stressing about how her overprotective brother would take it. Therefore she came out to Thoma before hand and asked if he would be willing to help break the news to him.

Ayaka and Thoma eagerly eat up Ayato’s reaction. “So.. you won’t be pregnant right?”Ayato nods to himself. And everyone but him deadpans. “Yea, I’m okay with this. Why wouldn’t I be?” He smiles at y’all and watches how his sister gleams.

Ayaka runs over the table to give her brother a hugeee hug. “Oh my god! Ugh I can’t believe I was scared to tell you!.” Ayato gives his sister a hug back and she sits back down.

“Wait.. Thoma?” Ayato looks to the blonde who’s already laughing. “Did you-?”

“Know? Yea… look at the cake I made buddy.” Thoma points to the clearly rainbow colored cake. “It’s a fruit cake. To celebrate this fruity day.” Thoma explains all excited and quite proud of his work.

“Well I see that now.. gosh.” Ayato mumbles and digs in. He slices different pieces for everyone.

The rest of dinner ends in laughter and more of Ayato’s dumb questions. Like “how do women fu-“Where did you guys meet,” and “Who confessed first,” as both Ayato and Thoma anxiously hear your story.

P.S. Ayato’s biggest fear is that Ayaka would get swept up by some dead beat guy and boom hed become an uncle one day, so he’s really happy you’re here to prevent that hypothetical nonsense.

Lyney & Freminet-

When Lynnett calls her brothers out for a cup of tea, they immediately think something must be wrong.

After all, Lynnett never plans meetings. She doesn’t have too since they all live in the same house.

So they conspire with one another for the reason for this meeting on the way to the cafe. And when they enter the building and see their shy Lynnett laughing and giggling, sat next to someone… Lyney’s first thought is, ‘who is this clone of Lynnett?’ And Freminent looks as if he’s lost his marbles. After all, everyone that Lynnett knows, the brothers already know… well almost everyone, until you stringed along.

They both know that their sister likes women. So you being a girl is no surprise. Mainly because Lynnett’s not the most discrete about her likings. If she likes something, they’ll find herself in her own world staring at the object of her desire or find herself obsessed with it, like tea. (Actually I think that’s just a bRiTisH thing.)

Anywho, neither of the siblings have EVER seen Lynnett like this and their eyes immediately trace to the cause of her giddy behavior. You.

Lyney hesitates a minute before asking,“Uhhh Lynnett?” Lynnett turns to look at her twin, who wears a nervous smile. Lyney swears he feels a shiver down his spine, still not fully convinced the girl, who looks like an identical copy of him, is his sister. “Who that?” He points to you, so shocked he forgot his manners.

“Lyney! Don’t be rude! This is Y/N.” She turns to you, “my girlfriend.” Freminent’s shock didn’t show on his face until now, and Lyney is still in confusion. “I called the two of you here to introduce you guys since Y/N will be around more often.” She takes a sip of her cup of tea, “But that was it, so you guys can leave now.” She smiles and was about to continue talking to you as Lyney and Freminent both immediately pull up a chair.

“Waiter, two cinnamon teas please!” Lyney gets the worker’s attentions and turns back to Lynnett, “Oh we are soo here to stay.” Freminent nods vigorously in agreement and Lynnett sighs.

“Exactly! You can’t just introduce her to us and not tells us anything!” Freminent exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest as he huffs.

Lynnett warned you that they might not take the news too well. It’s been the three of them for god knows how long, and she didn’t think they’d be ready to see her get onto the next phase in her life with you.

But you told her this meeting would be good for the both of you. She wouldn’t have to be so cautious with you around the city anymore and could finally get rid of the rope she used for you climb through her window and meet her. Plus it was about high time her siblings knew about the two of y’all together.

“They have a point Lynnett. How can they accept us if they barley know me?” You look at her and she frowns. She just didn’t want to put you through the trouble of her brothers eating at your head :(. “Please,” You ask her earnestly and she sighs.

“Fine. Out with it you two. What do you want to know?” Lynnett glares at them, communicating with her eyes to not ask anything rude. “You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.” She whispers to you and you squeeze her hand in reassurance.

“Oh me first!” Lynnett raises his hand to beat Freminent who slides back into his seat. “Why do you love my sister?” He analyzes you, preparing what he will say if you give him a bad answer.

“Well..” The brothers lean in to hear your answer. “What’s there not to love?” You say with a small chuckle. “But if I had to pick some of my favorite things about her it would have to be… how she looks at me… and how she tries to make sure I’m always okay in her own way. But I think the thing I love the most about her… is her independence.” You look to Lynnett who’s already blushing.

Freminent and Lyney look at eachother and it’s as if they come to an understanding that maybe you really are right for her. They usually aren’t so quick to trust someone at face value with some words, but they know. Lynnett has a wall around people and doesn’t let it down around just anyone. They trust that their sister is good at figuring out people’s good intentions from wrong, and if she’s opened her heart to you. Then they trust her. They trust her judgement of you.

“Well, I’ll admit thats not a bad answer.” Lyney rumbles, rubbing his neck, not so happy with his defeat.

“But I have one last question.” Freminent asks and the attention turns to boy who’s remained mostly quiet throughout this discussion. “It’s a really important one.” He looks to both Lyney and Lynnett, and it’s as if they both already know what he’s about to ask.

“Of course. Ask anything. I’m an open book.” You say with a calm smile.

Freminent takes a deep breath, “If you want to be a part of this family then… do you promise that no matter what you hear… or what you learn.. you’ll try to see things from our side?” All three of them look eagerly towards you.

Lynnett has told you seldom about her life outside of magic, but you know in your heart that no matter what, Lynnett will always be someone you cannot live without.

“We all have a story don’t we? …When you trust me enough to tell me yours, I know that no matter what I hear or see… I will wait for however long it takes to hear that story before coming to any sort of judgement.” You say softly, looking at them all and see the brothers tense figures lighten. When you turn back to Lynnett, her eyes tell you everything you need to know and how touched she is.

“Well shit.” Lyney says. “Welcome to the family.” He exclaims, and their drinks have arrived. The rest of the lunch continues with the exchanging of stories from embarrassing moments Lynnett’s had as a child to great epic moments of the high time in their careers. Though they don’t talk anymore about their past, you know when the time is right the occasion will come. :)

P.S. POV: You actually infiltrated their family to learn their magic tricks >:)

Jean-

When Jean patrols Mondstat’s forests for any lurking danger, she sees her sister sitting next to someone on dock of the lake. Their legs dangling and feet touching the water. She was about to walk up to say hi until she sees her sister kiss the person next to her.

Jean drops her sword and a loud thud startles both you and Barbara as the two of you turn around to look at the cause of the sound, only to find the shocked expression of the Acting Grand Master.

“Sister!” Barbara looks as if she’s seen a ghost and gets up to run to her.

“Wait Barbara your shoes-“ You get cut off by Jean running away and Barbra chasing after her.

You sigh, grabbing Barbara’s shoes and wearing yours, while following the shouting of the ladies. You even pick up Jean’s sword that she’s left on the floor.

You and Barbara haven’t been together for very long, but you’re both serious about each other. However, every time you would mention if it’s time to introduce each other to one another’s family, Barbara would avoid the topic. You later learned it was cause Barbara’s sister is extremely overprotective of her.

And it makes sense after all. Barbara has been known to have stalkers and crazy fans (IFHY ALBERT). You yourself know how naive Barbara can be at times and how she doesn’t really take the best care of herself. After all, most of the time you’re picking up after her.

You find the sisters deep into the forest. Barbara sitting down on a rock, her pale feet covered in mud and gunk. And Jean pacing back and forth with a hand messing up her pony tail.

“I can’t believe you went behind my back!” Jean shouts. “A girlfriend? Seriously Barbara? Do you think you’re mature enough to be in a relationship? Do you think that girl is trustworthy?” Jean turns to her sister.

“How dare you! Y/N is a great partner and we’re doing really good! And I’ve learned so much being with her than I have before!…Gosh I knew you were going to react like this so I hid it from you.” Barbara continues the shouting, but then starts to weep and Jean sighs. Jean hates it when her sister cries. And she hates it even more when she’s the one who makes her sister cry.

“Oh Barbara, please don’t cry-“ Jean kneels down, about to wipe her tears.

“Tell me, is it just a thing in your family to leave your stuff everywhere?” You interrupt, and the stark difference in their reactions almost makes you laugh.

Barbara exclaims your name and runs up to give you a hug, while Jean stands back up and crosses her arms over her chest. She wears a furrowed brow on her face to match the tense body language.

“You got mud all over you.” You tell Barbara softly and Barbara giggles. Once she lets go of the hug, you kneel down to clean her feet with a cloth. You put her shoes on her as well, and when you stand back up, you’re met with a distraught look on Jean’s face. “Here. Your sword.” When you walked to her to hand it back to her, Jean looks even more lost.

Jean, for the past years, has been the one taking care of her sister all the time. And though what you did just now might seem small, Jean didn’t even notice her sister was walking around barefoot. ‘What if Barbara got a thron stuck in her foot and her whole leg got infected?’ She beats herself up about not noticing sooner.

“Thank you,” Jean speaks very softly. Almost as if she’s trying to counteract for her shouting earlier.

“Don’t mention it,” You give her a genuine smile. You get where the older sister is coming from after all. “Now, how do we resolve this?” You look at both the sisters.

Barbara walks closer to where you and Jean stand. “Jean… I know I’m asking a lot from you to accept us given how bad I can be at judging people… but I swear. I swear on Barbatos that Y/N is a good person.” She looks at you and you smile. You can’t help yourself but to pat her head.

“Jean, I know how worried you must be. You’ve just seen your little sister being affectionate with some random stranger… but I promise you that this random stranger.. will take even better care of Barbara than you have over the years.” You make a challenge to yourself at Jean and she finally loosens up.

Jean exhales deeply. And shakes her head at how she jumped to conclusions about you.“I will take you up on that.” She looks at Barbara and then at you and noticed how she hasn’t really seen Barbara this happy and free in a while. Being stressed AF runs in the their family and she tells herself that maybe you’re good for her Barbara. And that maybe it’s time to let her sister experience the world for herself, without Jean’s watchful eye. “But.. I think we’re all do for a shower and a proper dinner after. I have many questions.” You and Barbara agree, sticky from the lake and the humid air as the three you guys walk back.

But this time instead of someone running away from another, someone shouting, and someone crying, you guys walk together. This marks the new beginning of getting to know each other and the rest of your lives.

P.S. Even if Jean ended up accidentally slaying your ass out of anger, C6 Barbara would’ve brought you back <3

A/N: I did a Barbara version where Jean introduces you as her girlfriend but I second guessed myself thinking that might be weird after I did the Jean version… (._.)

Aether-

Aether doesn’t believe his sister got a partner before he did. Questions his rizz. The end ;)

Kidding, he doesn’t even know his sister has a girlfriend because he hasn’t found her-

A/N: How do people write traveller?? What even is their personality, like are they pretty? Yes. Do they speak? No. What do you guys go off of?? [・_・?]

11/08/2023

[urlovebot]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Attention

bada accompanies you to your high school reunion

cw: nothing too bad. actually, not suggestive! bada lee being fine as hell... y/n acting up per usual. really fluffy at the end. enjoy!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

when you asked bada to come with you to your high school reunion, you didn’t think much of it. Until now. you’re checking your outfit in the mirror, smoothing down your shirt. you looked fine. right?

“right. now let's go. we’re going to be late- albeit fashionably.” bada’s eyebrows wiggle as she states her thoughts. you have no CLUE how she’s so calm right now. did she not also feel the pressure of meeting people you once know and now are going to meet in a battle of who’s more accomplished? don't get yourself wrong, you’re more than happy to have bada coming with you, the thought easing your anxiety a little. but still, what would people say when they saw you two?

bada strides over to you, “you look gorgeous honey, let's go show them.”

you weren’t necessarily unpopular in school, but you definitely weren’t everyone's cup of tea. this thought alone made you nervous- but you’re fine. bada is there. she’s right beside you.

you take a deep breath,

“thank you. we can leave now.”

now, you’re parked outside of the venue in which this reunion is taking place.

“i’m gonna be fucking sick.”

bada looks over at you in concern, “why? what’s wrong?”

you put your head in your hands, “you-” gag “Other people are going to perceive you. how am i supposed to cope with that.”

bada scoffs, “you had me worried," she shakes her head, "i’m getting out of this car, i’m going to come around to your door, open it, and pull you out. don’t worry about other people… perceiving me. your eyes are the only ones that matter to me. lets go.”

bada climbs out of the car and does exactly what she says. she rounds the car, hooks a hand under the door handle, opens it, and puts out a hand for you to grab hold of. once your hand is in hers, she brings it up to her mouth, kissing the back of it. you hesitantly get out of the car.

bada keeps her hand in yours, swinging the two back and forth. in the corner of your eye, you could see her smiling. she looks down at you as you reach the doors. you glare at her.

“why’d you have to leave the house looking like that. it’s like you’re trying to impress other women or something.”

bada was dressed like a whore in an all-black outfit, cap on her head and chains dangling from her neck.

“me? what about you?”

you were also wearing all black but instead of pants, you opted for a skirt that bada thinks should be banned from you ever wearing outside of the house. it wasn’t even that short, it just fit you so well that bada believes the view should only be for her.

you huff, “bada if anyone tries to talk to you that's not me, scream stranger danger please-”

she rolls her eyes, “you are so dramatic. nobody is going to be interested in seeing me here, this is your high school reunion, not mine.”

you press on anyway, making her pinky promise to run away from any woman trying to approach her. You open the doors to reveal a room crowded with old classmates, some faces familiar, others not so much.

you didn’t really keep up with people after you graduated, having moved on to other, more important things early on in your life that just didn’t align with others your age. you danced under multiple different studios and academy’s, landing yourself at just jerk nearly a year ago. they’d asked you to choreograph to “sativa”, bada observed your class, and the rest is history.

the occasion was quite casual. you opted for some flowy, light colored clothing with silver jewelry. bada on the other hand was dressed like a whore in an all-black outfit, cap on her head and chains dangling from her neck. you often referred to her as your scary guard dog with a golden retriever personality. to be fair, she did look kind of scary today. her height did not help. bada lets you lead her into the room by her hand.

you’re greeted by a few people right off the bat. bada just observes behind you. you’re cute in the way your eyes light up when people ask you what you’ve been up to. she’s so proud at how much you’ve accomplished, and she loves when you show yourself off. alternatively, you love showing your girlfriend off. people already knew exactly who she was. bada lee was an extremely popular name amongst your classmates as you went to a performing arts highschool. Imagine their surprise when you walk in with bada lee in tow.

in conversation she laughs where she needs to, butts in when appropriate, and lets you guide the conversation. once the group leaves, you heave a sigh of relief. you lean back into your girlfriends' sturdy figure and her arms circle around your waist. she kisses your temple.

“do you want me to get you a drink?”

you nod, hesitantly letting her remove her arms from around you. another old classmate comes up to you to make small talk, but in the corner of your eye you see a woman approach bada. you take a deep breath. it's fine. you can have a normal conversation without worrying-

you feel your eye twitch when you see the woman lean up to say something to your tall and sexy girlfriend. bada responds and this woman laughs and… caresses bada’s arm while doing so. you start to worry until bada’s eyes swiftly meet your own and she throws a wink your way. reassured, you continue your conversation.

bada looks at this woman like she’s crazy. all she wanted to do is get you a drink and now this woman by the name of “mina” is borderline harassing her.

“...and that’s the most recent studio i’ve danced for. are you still at just jerk? you should invite me to one of your classes.” she smiles, but bada knows the intent behind her eyes. per her girlfriends' silent request found from her pleading eyes across the room, she ends the conversation.

“no thank you. you can always sign up through our website and hope you can get a spot that way. good luck!” bada grabs your drink and leisurely walks away, leaving mina’s face stuck in bewilderment.

you’re mid conversation when you feel bada’s arm wrap around your shoulder, she hands you your drink, “sorry it took so long,” she kisses your cheek, “who’s this?”

with a light blush on your face, you introduce your old classmate. they give bada a warm smile. you felt good. you knew people were eyeing the both of you, probably wondering how you ended up with someone like bada. you almost start to worry about the stares, but bada knows you. she can see in the slight crease on your forehead that you’re thinking yourself into oblivion. her hand smooths down your back, resting just above the curve of your bottom. she traces small circles there as she strikes up conversation with your friend.

when bada excuses herself to go use the restroom, your old friend group approaches you, ogling at bada as she walks away.

“y/n… she is so…”

you squeal and cover your mouth, “I know- i know!”

when you watch her stride back into the room, her eyes never leave yours. bada loved you. and you loved her. and anyone in the room could feel that radiating off of the both of you.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: this was much shorter and more fluffy than i intended it to be so just know a part two is coming 🤭

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

[rubykgrant]

Idea for a Magnus Archives AU (that I don't have time to write all the way out, but it still intrigues me~)

At some point after Martin's father left, but when he was still very young, somebody offered to bring Mrs Blackwood some furniture. Used, but still in good condition. She refused, insulted by the idea that she needed "pity" or "charity", despite the fact that her health is already making things difficult... one day, while her son is at school, she hears a knock at the door. It takes her a while to get there. When she finally opens it, whoever knocked is gone, but they have left behind a table.

She assumes it was the same person as before, and is now irritated that they have "dumped" their old junk on her doorstep. A neighbor sees and offers to at least bring it inside. She decides it may as well be put to use, so she lets the neighbor move it in. Alone in the house, she looks the table over. It certainly isn't new, but isn't too beat-up or broken. It has a VERY unique pattern... almost like an optical illusion...

When Martin gets home from school, he's surprised to see that his mother is in the kitchen, getting ready to cook dinner; she hasn't done that in a year! He offers to help, or just make himself a sandwich and canned soup if she wants to rest, but she assures him that she's feeling MUCH better. This continues for several months, the doctors are amazed by what seems to be a miracle recovery! All the neighbors and old friends agree, she's also had a change in attitude lately, but it all seems for the better. Her son is especially happy... his mother seems so much more "gentle" than she used to be, and she doesn't even make him drink oolong tea with her anymore. She's decided that Earl Grey is better.

Nobody notices that her hair is a different length, a different color. Nobody notices the shape of her eyes and jawline has changed. Nobody notices that she's taller. Not any friends, neighbors, doctors, or family. Even all the photographs in the house have changed. A different woman is holding a tiny, newborn baby. A different woman is sitting next to a small Christmas tree, helping a child open a present. Nobody notices... except for one person.

When Mr Blackwood heard from an old friend that the wife he left had recovered, he suddenly had second thoughts. He really had thought she would die, and he must have had some sort of break-down. He couldn't handle it, so he ran away... but he's thinking clearly again. It has nothing to do with the fact that he also heard his wife recently got a new job, a very well-paying one with the kind of health plan that a spouse could share. It has nothing to do with the fact that he isn't feeling well himself lately, and he's noticed that he has nobody to take care of HIM. It has nothing to do with the fact that he hasn't been able to find work, and he also can't find a place to live. He just wants to go back because he misses his wife and son. That's all.

When Mr Blackwood returned, he brought flowers. To apologize. He knocked on the door, and heard a muffled voice call- "Come in!". He picked a time of day when he knew Martin would be at school, so he and his wife could reunite with some privacy. He expected his wife to be upset. He expected his wife to be angry, maybe cry, or try to throw something at him. He expected it would take time for his wife to let him explain, then forgive him. He expected HIS WIFE. The woman in this home was not his wife... she said she was, she smiled, used his name like she knew him, but she WASN'T. Her voice, face, EVERYTHING was different! This was wrong, why was this strange woman here?

He ran away, even though she called for him to stay. He tried to speak with their friends, her family... everybody acted like he was crazy. They acted like the woman claiming to be his wife was right. After months and months of trying to talk some sense into people, he finally remembers Martin; surely a child would know their own mother? Mr Blackwood has been watching the house, and he sees little Martin kiss the woman good-bye, then leave for school. As if everything was normal. He can't stand it anymore! He bursts through the door, shouting at the woman to tell the truth, but the noise alerts the neighbors, who call for help, and he leaves...

He stays away for more than a year, but he never went far. He kept watching. He tried to figure out WHY somebody would pretend to be his wife, and HOW she could fool everybody. It never makes any sense. He comes back again, in the middle of winter. Martin is sleeping over at a friend's house. Mr Blackwood has been sleeping in an old treehouse, long abandoned by the kids who built it. He can't stand the idea of that strange woman sleeping in the bed that SHOULD be his (that would have been his, if he hadn't left). He uses his key to open the back door. She hasn't changed the locks. He goes in, ready to be rough if necessary; he will get the truth if it kills him.

Around 2 in the morning, Mrs Blackwood calls for help. Her husband, the one who left her, the one who came back and threatened her, just tried to attack her! She fought back, and he ran off again. No trace of him is ever found. When Martin comes home, they have a discussion, and decide it isn't safe to life here anymore. So they move, not too far, Martin can still visit people he knew growing up. The new house is much nicer, in a safe neighborhood.

They take just about everything with them, except for a few large pieces of furniture they sell. Mrs Blackwood wants to keep the table with the unique pattern, though. She's grown rather fond of it. The movers she hired are... odd, but they get everything to the new home very quickly. When his mother speaks with the two of them beside their truck, Martin watches from a window, and he has the strangest feeling that... his mother might just step up into it, and ride away with them. Then she'll be gone, and he'll be alone. He can't explain why, but he almost expects it to happen.

She doesn't leave. She comes back inside, smiling, and hugs her child. Why wouldn't she? As the years go by, Martin wonders about his father; why the man left, why he came back, why he seemed so confused about who his own wife was. Martin also wonders what his father looked like, as none of the pictures they saved show his face. Mrs Blackwood tells her son- "I suppose there's a resemblance, but when I look at you, I just see YOU, not him. I love you too much to see your father in your features".

Martin grows up happy and safe with his mother. He's able to finish school, and eventually starts working at a bakery. Later, when he moves out to get his own place, he finds a job at a restaurant-confectionery in London. His mother didn't want him living so far away, but he really wants to sort of "get out in the world", have some experience on his own. Someday, he'd like to have his own tea shop and cafe. He works from the middle of the day to late shifts at the cafe, and he gets to know some of the regulars very well. One woman, Sasha, comes in often to get food and drinks for her coworkers. Martin likes chatting with her, and eventually meets Tim when they come to have lunch together. He considers them to be friends.

One day, they call and tell Martin they want to order the most extravagant cake possible for their boss; it is his birthday, and they are going to be obnoxious about it, but also trick him so he doesn't know they've planned something. Martin offers to bring it over himself, so they can pretend to not be up to anything. This is how he enters the Magnus Institute. This is how he meets Jonathan Sims. This is how he starts learning about the strange things they research here. This is how he sees a picture of a table with a very curious pattern. This is how he asks if he can listen to the statement about that table...

[varpusvaras]

It's a pretty afternoon on Coruscant, for once.

They are standing just at the entrance of the Jedi Temple, waiting for Wolffe to come out, and Fox is enjoying his moment of sunlight without having a barrier over his head, when there is something flying towards his head. In a snap, he has raised his hand and caught whatever it is.

"Nice catch!" Fox looks over to see Wolffe jogging towards them, with a small bag in his hand. He glances down at his own hand and to whatever he had just caught.

It's a fruit of some sort, round and with a very light and soft pink color.

"Souvenirs from General Koon", Wolffe says, opening the bag in his hand. "He called these Hallous and said we had to try them."

He starts to give everybody else a fruit from the bag as well. It's moments like these that Fox kind of wishes he also had a Jedi, who would call them all by their names and give out fruits and other treats. Fox isn't even sure when the last time was that he actually ate fresh food.

Everybody is taking a bite out of their fruits already, not bothering to wait until Fox gets his musings to an end. They all seem to enjoy it with smiles on their faces, so Fox takes a bite as well.

Fox hadn't thought before this that it could be possible for a food to punch him inside his mouth, but now he has to believe it. The fruit is spicy like those hot peppers in the stew that Thorn had bought in one of the first weeks of their posting, and it leaves a rough, tingling afterburn in Fox's mouth. The same afterburn follows the piece of fruit down his throat when he swallows, making him cough.

Cody, who is standing closest to him in their circle, reaches to pat him on his back.

"Don't choke", he says. "Wolffe probably doesn't want to go and tell General Koon that his fruit killed you."

Fox draws in a deep breath. He looks all of them over. Rex and Bly are still munching on on their fruits, with not one twitch in their expressions.

Fox's eyes are burning with gathering tears. He hurries to wipe them away.

Is his spice tolerance this bad? He hadn't thought so before, but...

Fox looks back at the fruit in his hands, then back at the others. They are almost done with theirs.

Fox is not going to give them any more reasons to make fun of him. They've been doing it lately more than enough, about everything they just possibly can. He takes a second bite and keeps his face still.

He's almost out of breath after the last bite, but he doesn't let it show. Thankfully nobody is pointing it out, too busy with heckling Bly at the moment because he just happened to accidentally call his General by her given name.

The burning feeling inside his mouth and throat don't leave him fully until the next day. He really, really needs to work on his spice tolerance.

---

"Oh, love", Breha is giving him a slightly concerned smile. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine", Fox manages to mumble, before he has to sneeze again. Thank Manda, he already had a tissue in his hands. His eyes and nose are burning.

Breha sighs.

"I should've made sure", she says. "You haven't really lived anywhere with this much...nature, before."

"You couldn't have known", Fox coughs. "And really, the Kaminoan's were supposed to engineer us without these kind of promblems."

"I don't think that's possible, with how many of you there are", Breha says. "Some things like this must've slipped, or happened during the gestation."

Possibly. Fox is not going to pretend that he understands anything about genetics.

Breha leaves for a moment, and Fox hears her move around the kitchenette area their living quarters have. She comes back with a steaming cup in her hands.

"The Hallous are in season in the Northern Hemisphere", she tells him, setting the cup in his hands. "They make a sweet tea blend infused with them, and it's good for your immune system."

Right. Fox guesses that something that spicy might as well burn all the nasty gunk in his airways away, so he takes a sip. He scrunches up his nose a bit from how much it burns, and Breha gives him another tissue, before getting up again.

She comes back a few minutes later with her own cup, and starts on her work while calmly sipping from it.

Fox is honestly impressed. He hadn't thought that Breha had much of a spice tolerance. Bail certainly doesn't have, and much of the traditional food of Alderaan is very mild and puts great emphasis on clean flavours. Oh, well, he learns something new every day. This all just now means that even his wife has a better spice tolerance than him by far.

He finishes his tea. It doesn't make him feel any better, as now his throat is even more scratchy than it was before. All it really does is making him even more tired, but he can't really sleep because of how hard it is to breathe.

He glances longingly out of the window. It's pretty out there, with gentle sunlight and green trees and everything in blossom, and he is allergic to all of it.

Fox grumples and closes his eyes.

---

Bail comes home the next week with a mild cold, and Fox watches him drink the tea like it's water. Alright, now this is really just embarrassing.

---

Fox tugs nervously at the collar of his suit. It's dark blue and goes together with what Breha and Bail are wearing, and he suddenly feels like he is out of his depth. Wearing the armor had given them all some sort of anonymity, even to him with his distinct paint job. It's probably going to take a while until Fox gets used to people looking at him, and looking at him without it.

It's also still strange to not be the one who is standing on guard, but to be the one who is guarded. Fox's job tonight is to stand there, look presentable, and not make a scene.

Things are still a bit...tense. There have been deglarations of peace and all that, but in many places, it still feels like one wrong move can light up everything again.

Fox can't help himself but to keep an eye out for everything that happens in the room. This is the first time after the War that Breha has travelled anywhere that is not in the Deep Core, and Fox is not going to stop himself from feeling protective of her. She is his wife, after all, and Fox has all the training necessary to keep her safe, if the situation demands it.

In the meanwhile, he tries to fullfill his primary job. Stand there, look presentable, and do not make a scene. He is still new to his position, so he is not yet expected to make some deep political statements.

Stand there, look presentable, and do not make a scene. He can do this.

Things are going well when they are served the first drinks of the evening.

"Here, Your Majesty", the server gives Breha a glass first, and then turns to Bail and Fox. "Your Highnesses. We do appreciate a lot of the same flavours as you in the Deep Core, and I think you will find this drink familiar. It's made with Hallous concentrate, to bring out the natural flavour powerfully and really make it the star of the drink."

"Thank you", Breha smiles brightly at them. "That sounds lovely."

Fox also thanks the server as he takes his glass, and does not show anything as their host gives out a speech and then a toast, and drinks with the rest of the guests. He manages to keep his face still by breathing deeply through his nose. All those years of training saving him in this moment, even if nothing what he learned while growing up was supposed to prepare him for a situation like this.

The drink is awful. Absolutely disgusting, if you ask Fox. It's so spicy that it stops tasting like anything at first, and then leaves a raw, bitter burn all the way down to his chest. His tongue feels immediately like it doesn't fit into his mouth properly anymore, pressing painfully against his back teeth. Fox really, really does not understand how every single person in the room can drink something like this and not automatically make even the slightlest of faces. Is this really just a thing he doesn't understand about people who were born into Royalty? Is it really just that much of an acquired taste, and him not liking it just shows that he really is just a nobody compared to them all?

Fox is proud of how well he managed to power through it, all of those things concidered. He tries to swallow a bit, to wash the taste out even a little, but he's barely getting his own spit down.

He sucks in a breath between his teeth. It's not reaching his lungs properly, leaving him feel weirdly unsatisfied. He tries again. It's barely getting past his lips, which feel...oddly numb. Huh. Was the spice really hitting him that bad?

Then it hits him that he can't breathe.

Fox tries to swallow again. It gets stuck somewhere at the back of his throat, the same place where all the air is getting stuck as well, and he clears his throat a bit behind his hand. It helps a little, letting him get something down to his lungs, but Fox has been choked out before and he knows when it's not enough.

It's not enough.

Sateen is with them, and he is standing closest to Fox and Bail, with Breha's own bodyguards standing next to her, and Fox, in his rising panic, sees him turn towards him.

"Fox?" Sateen asks, keeping his voice low as he steps closer and carefully grabs Fox by the arm. "Are you alright?"

Fox tries to say no, but then there is white static taking over his eyes and he vaguely feels himself pitching forward-

-and he wakes up with something heavy on his face and a rush of cool air, and he gulps it up desperately. It enters his lungs with a deep, sweet relief, and then makes him cough.

There is a hand on his forehead, large and warm and familiar. Fox has the mind to open his eyes.

The first thing he sees is Bail's extremely concerned face above him, and then somebody else's as they lean closer to him.

"Deep breaths", they say, and Fox obeys. The more air he is getting in, the more aware he is becoming of his surroundings, and that is when he notices that there is a lot of commotion all around him.

He tries to look back up at Bail, to ask what is going on, but the other person telling him to breathe is really insistent of him doing just that and not talking, so Fox relents just for a moment longer.

He does glance around from the corner of his eyes, though. The whole room is in absolute chaos, with people shouting and screaming in a rising cacophony, and with multiple Guards in different uniforms trying to contain it all with seemingly very, very bad results.

The people leaning over him are talking something about oxygen levels and adrenaline and blood pressure and a lot more that Fox doesn't have the capacity to understand right now, so he just breathes.

He does feel a sense of disappointment in himself. His job had literally been just to stand there, look presentable and not cause a scene.

He isn't standing, most likely doesn't look presentable while lying on the floor, and this definitely counts as a scene.

Fox presses his eyes back shut. Just his luck.

---

Rex: I can't believe that you out of all of us managed to almost cause a full blown conflict because everybody thought you were poisoned, while you were just having an allergy attack

Rex: I thought that was a thing only Skywalker and General Kenobi were able to do

Fox: Shut up

Bly: No, no, really. You really couldn't tell that you were allergic to that stuff? You've seen all of us eat them with no problems!

Fox: You guys are all a bunch of weirdos, how was I supposed to know that you all didn't just enjoy eating shit like that?

Wolffe: Next time you see us eating something without problems while you are actively choking on it because it tastes like molten lava to you, please call us a bunch of weirdos out loud. That could save the Galaxy in the future, apparently

Fox: Cody, Ponds, they are bullying me. I almost died!

Ponds: and almost caused another conflict while doing so

Cody: Stop it, everyone. We're glad that you're okay, Fox'ika

Fox: Thank you. At least somebody here still loves me

Cody: BUT, there is a saying Obi-Wan used to say-

Fox shuts down his commlink at that point. Bail gives him a sympathetic look from the chair next to Fox's bed.

"Are they making fun of you?" He asks.

"Of course they are", Fox huffs, and then resists another urge to just reach to his back and scratch. "I almost died and I'm suffering and they're making fun of me."

Bail takes his hand gently to his.

"I'm not making fun of you", he says, with humour in his voice but enough soft love in his eyes that Fox lets it be for now.

"Thank you", Fox says, squeezing Bail's hand. Partly to show back affection, partly to stop himself from giving into the urge to scratch. "How long do I have left?"

Bail looks at his chrono.

"Another hour", he says. "I'm sorry. We just want to make sure this doesn't happen again."

"It's fine", Fox sighs. "I would rather it doesn't happen again, either, but why does testing for allergens take so long?"

"That, I do not know", Bail says. He then straightens up a bit to take a look at Fox's back.

Fox sees the grimace on his face, even though Bail tries his hardest to wipe it away quickly.

"I'm karked, aren't I?" Fox asks.

"Well, I wouldn't say so", Bail tries to smile placatingly at him. "I'm sure it's completely normal for it to look like that."

He, very wisely, understands to shut up after the next look Fox gives him.

[starlightguh]

An Artist Always Signs His Work

Word Count: 1,879

Tags: inappropriate uses of paint, Oral f!receiving

AN: 18+ Smut !MDNI¡ I started working on this before the Rafayel banner announcement and wanted to finish and post this before the new card dropped! I’ve truthfully not been the biggest Rafayel girly but lately he’s shown up in some spicy dreams of mine so I hope this does him justice 💕

I was taking my time doing my hair for a little outing with Tara that I had planned, when my phone started buzzing. I pause my hair routine and see Rafayel’s picture with his contact name: My Sushi <3 light up my screen.

I answer with a cutesy ‘Hellooo’ and am met with a disgruntled groan from the other end.

“I can’t do it! I won’t do it! I simply cannot draw anymore no matter how much Thomas threatens me!”

“Woah, slow down what happened?” I stifle a laugh at his dramatics.

“They expect me to have a new painting for that gallery by the end of this week and I just can’t! No matter how much I’ve painted nothing is giving that inspiration I need….You have to come help,” his voice sobbed on the other line.

“Rafayel I can’t, I have other engagements today I can’t just drop everything to help you with your art,” I sigh at his drama.

“Oh so you hate me. I get it. Well I see how much you care about me and my dying wishes, so I’m hanging up now,” his voice was full of sass as he then hung up on me.

I let out a long exasperated groan and gave Tara a phone call, “hey girl I might have to rain check on our tea date.”

“Oh that’s funny you called first! I actually ran into Dr.Greyson and am kinda caught up with him right now…We’ll definitely touch base and reschedule when I see you at work! Bye girly!”

Well that was easy. I continue to finish getting ready to go see my dying artist…

~~~~~~~~~

Im buzzed into Mo art studio with no problem. I didn’t bother calling Rafayel back since I knew where he would be whether I showed up or not.

“Knock, knock,” I call out as I open the doors to his studio space.

“Studio’s closed, I'm busy passing away…” Rafayel, whose clothes were covered in various paint colors, was laying on the floor with his arm covering his eyes.

“But I came to revive you.”

He lifts his arm away from his face and he lets in a sharp little gasp as he takes in my appearance.

I was a bit dressier than usual in my shiny short white dress and my hair and makeup done. I smiled down at his stunned expression as the pupils of his eyes darken.

“I think I’ve found my inspiration,” he says with a bit of a confident smirk.

He slowly lifts up his torso and smiles up at me before holding out his index fingers and thumbs to create a frame of me in his vision.

“Oh so that’s why you wanted me to come here, you needed a muse?”

He stands up and his taller height makes me lean my head back a bit to glance into his deep sea blueish eyes. Rafayel placed his hand under my chin and moved my face from side to side, appraising my facial features.

“Not necessarily, but your beauty has striked my inspiration. Come here while I paint,” he takes my hand and drags me to the center of his studio.

He has me sit on top of a stool in front of the background of his flowing white curtains as he sets up a canva and easel in front of me.

I sit a bit awkwardly, unsure of what to do with myself. So I kick my feet a bit as Rafayel is pouring the paints he wants to use on his wooden pallet.

His eyes are scanning the scene before him as a mischievous smirk crosses his face, “I think the subject needs more color.”

I look down at my white dress and frown, “Well I didn’t exactly bring anything else.”

He wordlessly strides over to me, and with a paint brush he slashes a stroke of blue paint on my bare arm.

“Hey! Rafayel! What are you doing?!” I shout as he laughs while splashing my skin with more paint.

“I'm just painting on my lovely canvas,” he smirks and then dips his hand in some of the paint on the pallet.

He places his forehead against mine while letting out a shaky breath as his paint covered hand slowly and sensually caresses down my bust to my waist. As his hand is the paint brush that has now ruined my dress, he stops at my waist and grips it.

“Raf,” I whisper as I glance at his plush lips. His eyes were now dark and intimate as he no longer stared at me like his muse, but rather his meal.

He lets out a huff and leans his head down to place a soft kiss at my pulse point in my neck. The only sounds I could hear was the smacking of his lip’s against my skin and the shakiness of my own breath.

I felt his nose drag up against my neck as he then brought his lips to my ear to whisper to me, “You know, when I paint, I prefer to paint subjects in their most natural state…”

He purred in my ear and pulled away a bit as he dipped his hand in his pallet and proceeded to set it down as he covered both hands in colors.

“Rafayel,” I said in a warning tone as he now has both of his hands on my body and ruined my dress with shades of blues and purples. “You owe me a new dress.”

He looks down at the paint covering my arms and seeing his hand prints on the dress he hums and nods, “You’re right….Let’s get this canvas to her natural state then.”

Before I could process what he meant by that, he had unzipped my dress and removed it off my body. I let out a yelp as the cold air touched my now exposed skin.

“This too,” he grumbled and popped my bra off immediately.

As I sat on this stool naked in nothing but my panties with wet paint covering my arms, I looked at him annoyed as my face with hot with embarrassment, “Shouldn’t you stop fooling around and actually work on your painting?” My eyes glance to the now abandoned easel he had set up.

His hands were all over my skin, his soft fingertips gently tracing paths around my breasts and sternum, leaving color in its wake. “But I am working on my painting dearest, it’s already beautiful,” he says in a whisper before leaning down to capture one of my plump mounds in his mouth.

I wrap my legs around him and let out whimpers as his tongue swirls around my sensitive bud. His face is now getting paint on it from the trails his fingers left behind earlier.

As he pulls away from my breast with a smack he stares up at me as he goes to give the other one attention. My face contorts as the feeling of his lips breaks my composure. His deep eyes are drinking in my expression as his mouth works on me and I close my eyes and turn my head away to hide from his intense gaze.

Rafayel pulls away and moves my head to face him, leaving more stains of paint as he does, “Look at me.” His voice sounds deeper than his usual teasing tone and is full of command.

I open my eyes and as I do he leans in and kisses me with a fierce intensity. His hands cup my jaw and I wrap my arms around him as his tongue parts my lips and dances in my mouth.

I drag my fingers into his purple hair as he groans into my mouth. When he pulls away I’m panting as our lips are still connected by a strand of saliva. He licks his lips with a smirk and he bites his bottom lip as he takes in my panting and flushed form.

“This is almost the vision I have,” he says as he crouches down to get more paint on his hand. He slides his hands that are wet with fresh colors up my legs as he parts them to have me sit in a straddle pose on the stool. “Beautiful.”

His hands grip my thighs as he stares at the small wet patch that’s dampened my teal cotton panties. Rafayel, like a man possessed, slides his hands underneath both sides of my underwear to slide them off me. My legs follow his path as the cotton is now cast aside and his hands are holding my painted thighs apart to expose my wet center to his vision.

“Now that I’ve painted my canvas, it’s only right that I sign my work,” his voice rumbles as he gets closer and closer to my center and he gives a lick on my slit.

“Raf-“ I pant and go to grab the back of his head, but he stops my movement with a grip on my wrist, “Don’t move or you’ll ruin the portrait.”

He lets my wrist go and dives into my center, drinking in my dripping essence with his thirsty lips. I can’t help but grip the sides of the stool and lean my head back with a moan.

The contrast of his hot mouth on me in comparison to my cold body covered in wet paint made my mind melt. I was drowning in pleasure as I could hear the lewd squelching and smacking of his mouth on my dripping pussy.

I could feel more than hear him growl as I placed my legs on his shoulders and my toes dug into the fabric of his white shirt.

“Gods Rafayel…I’m gonna,” I squeal as I close my eyes and feel his tongue on my clit.

As I focus on my breathing I can feel his tongue make what feels like the shape of an R on my slit, followed by an A then F….

I could feel my lower body tighten and heat up as I was close, “Rafayel please I’m-I…” I sputtered out as he made it to Y in his name.

He pulled away for a moment and his voice was filled with lust, “Come. Let go for me.”

When he went back to my clit and quickly finished spelling his name he then slid his tongue inside my needy hole and I instantly came undone on his mouth with a high pitched moan.

As I was breathing heavily from my orgasm, Rafayel pulled away with half of his face dripping in my juices. He smiled and licked his lips, “Perfect stay like that.”

He stood and rushed over to the actual canvas and quickly began trying to immortalize my pleasure in a painting on his canvas.

Needless to say he had to repose his muse with a few more orgasms to ‘get my expression just right.’

The finished product was me covered in paints of blues and purples and completely fucked out of my mind, while his actual portrait depicted a naked woman being swallowed up by the sea. I was too embarrassed to acknowledge that her pleasured face was what Rafayel saw as he expertly pulled out of me over and over again that day.

~fin~