#So like I sat here and stared at a pose for so fucking long my eyes hurt and I spent days on this

[imnormalaboutpacesetter]

I don’t know how to explain myself

[love44lew]

((At least for the pictures))

彡drivers needy!max verstappen

彡genre drabble

彡summary maxie wants a just kiss :((

彡notes i lowkey forgot i made this but its here now!! i have a series of drabbles while you wait for my smut scenarios xp

————————-🦈-————————

Pinterest is the go to to find makeup looks. its like being a kid in a candy store, theres always so many things to choose from. today though, you scrolled through your saves and decided on a red and brown combo.

you made the rest of your face match it by applying a redder tinted blush and added some beauty marks just for fun. max walked in as you did your makeup.

“whatcha doing love?” he creeped up behind you and snaked his arms around your waist, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“i’m just doing my makeup maxie,” you glanced at him through the mirror “are you done getting ready?” max nodded

“i just came for my cologne and to see what you were doing.” he reached over and grabbed his bottle of versace that you had got him for valentines day. “you look amazing” he glanced you up and down, keeping a hand on your lower back. “hey! dont spray that too close to me i dont wanna smell like man..” you scooted away which caused max to pull you back into his arms. “you’re not just gonna smell like man, you’re gonna smell like your man, which is better.” he smirked

“okay but i wanted to try my new perfume” you frowned

“oh dont be sad at least you smell good now” he leaned in to kiss your cheek which you pushed him away.

“wait!! i haven’t put my setting spray yet” max frowned as he took a step back. “so i cant kiss you now?”

“i never said that baby i just did my makeup” you doused your face in spray before turning to him while fanning your face. you cupped his cheek with your free hand “let me have this for at least the pictures, and then you can kiss me and fuck up my makeup all you want,” maxs eyes trailed down to the side, his lips still pouty. “can you do that for me?” you softened your voice. he hesitated, still being his pouty stubborn self.

“please” you tilted your head to the side, catching his gaze with your own. max’s deep blue eyes staring back into yours as he slightly nodded and kissed your hand. his kisses trailed down your forearm before he pulled you in and kissed your shoulder. “i can do that” he showed a half smile.

the car door opened and immediately you were hit hit with hundreds of camera flashes into the car trying to capture your every move. max got out before you and took your hand in his as he helped you exit the vehicle. the flashes increased when you exited, especially because you might be just a little more famous than max. you held onto his hand as he guided you past all the paparazzi. right before you entered the building, you posed for the pictures and pulled max in to join you which he gave his cute little awkward smile to the cameras.

the night went on and max waited ‘patiently’. more like he kept asking if he could kiss you which you rejected. finally you took some shots which messed up your lips. max wasn’t looking so you came up behind him and kissed his neck and cheek which caught him by surprise. caught your lips in his plump ones as you stepped in front of him and sat on his lap for better access. you wrapped your arms around his nape as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer. he sighed into his long awaited kiss.

[peachsukii]

Unexpected Treasure

『♡』  pro-hero fem!reader  x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-hero au | married | aged to 26 ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: when bakugo gets caught up in the office after his patrol, you decide to send him some spicy semi-nudes in your hero suit with one sentence - "bringing you a surprise, stay in your office." tags & warnings: 18+ MDNI | CW; Smut - sexting, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, biting/love marks, oral (f!receive), nipple play, rough-ish sex, creampie, talks of pregnancy | porn-with-plot, lovers (married), fluff & tooth-rotting fluff, soft bakugo, feel good/comfort a/n: happy valentine’s day! this idea popped in my head and i couldn't stop thinking about how stinkin' cute it would be, so here you go! after the smut is when the tooth-rotting fluff starts!! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,934꒱

[katsuki] gonna be late, sorry sweets. maybe another hour to get this stupid paperwork done

Damn, so much for a surprise dinner. You’ll just bring the surprise to him instead! You were too impatient to wait another hour to tell him about your day.

You slip into the bodysuit of your hero attire, shimmying into the neoprene and spandex as the material hugs your body like a glove. Usually you’d wear a set of tights underneath to cover your legs, but for this purpose, “forgot” them as they’d only end up getting in the way. You grab your phone from the coffee table, lying on the couch as you pose for a few shots of yourself.

Once you’re satisfied with the risqué pictures, you send the set over to your bombastic hero of a husband with one comment.

[y/n] * two pictures attached * [y/n] bringing you a surprise, stay in your office

You grab a bag with some spare clothes and throw on a long jacket to cover yourself as you head out the door. Before you have your shoes on, your phone dings three times.

[katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] shit baby [katsuki] bring your office key, i’m locking the damn door

A coy smile crosses your lips as you shut the door to your shared apartment and swiftly make your way over to Dynamight Agency downtown.

───

The sunset’s rays poured into Bakugo’s 4th floor office, bouncing off the walls and illuminating the paperwork he’s begrudgingly working on. When his phone vibrates, he quickly peeks at the notification for your response.

Imagine his shock when he opens the texts to see two half-naked photos of his wife on the living room couch of your home.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, examining both photos with curious eyes. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and ears heating up as the blood rushed straight to his groin.

The first picture had your suit’s front zipper sitting flush against your ribcage, right under your breasts, as they squished together. He could tell the material was barely holding them in place, your nipples perking through the stretch of the fabric. Your face wasn’t completely visible, just the pout of your perfectly plump lips.

The second picture, though? He audibly grunted as he stared at the glass screen.

You sat on the edge of the couch as the bodysuit rode straight up your center, hands on your thighs as your legs are spread. The snaps on the underside of the suit were struggling to stay secured as it settled in between the flush of your lips, covering nothing but your clit.

Bakugo was so enamored with your body that he didn’t notice when he started fisting himself through his cargo pants.

God, how did he get so lucky to land a bombshell like you?

Without hesitation, he unbuckles the clasps of his belt and shoves his pants and boxers down his thighs, reclining back in his chair as he ferociously gripped his dick. The heat of his palm edged him along as he kept his phone in the other hand, flipping back and forth between your two pictures with each stroke. All he could think about was how much he wanted to tear the snaps open on your crotch with his teeth and devour you, paint your luscious tits with hot cum, watch how your puffy lips wrap around his cock, and fuck you until you were screaming his name into the couch cushions.

The sound of the lock turning on his office door shook Bakugo out of his lust-ridden stupor as he rolled his chair to situate himself under the desk, hiding his erection from sight. You crack the door open, just enough to slip inside, and re-lock the door behind you. He’s panting as sweat rolls out from under his mask, crimson irises locked on to you like a predator spotting its prey.

Was he getting off to your pictures?

Fuck, that’s hot.

”Hey Kats,” you purr, stripping the coat from your shoulders and exposing your hero suit. You drop your bag by the door, along with the jacket, and saunter over to his desk.

“Looks like someone was enjoying himself.”

Bakugo scoffs, pushing his mask up on to his forehead and running a hand through his hair. “Guilty as charged. Can’t help it, you’re fuckin’ sexy.”

As you round the desk, you catch a full glimpse of his flushed cock, dribbling with pre-spend as it gleams against his flesh in the sunlight. You can feel the spandex of your suit getting moist as you bite your lip, yearning for his touch - the string in your belly already wound tightly over catching him in the act.

Bakugo springs up from his chair, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor as he’s grabbing your waist and shoving you up against the desk between his legs. He presses against your center with his hard on, feeling the damp spandex rub against his shaft. Leaning back, you accidentally knock over the stack of papers and sending them tumbling to the floor.

“Looks like someone was enjoying herself,” Bakugo teases mockingly, rocking back and forth against your clothed slit. “Fuck th’ paperwork, rather fuck this pretty cunt of yours instead.”

A soft gasp falls from your lips as he removes himself from your center, kneeling down and pulling your hips to edge of the desk. His breath is hot against your sticky thighs as he licks the wet spot on your spandex, sucking on your clit through the fabric. You roll your hips closer into his mouth, begging for him for more. He smirks, diving into your core and nipping at the buttons on your suit. He grips the fabric between his teeth and throws his head back, successfully ripping the bodysuit’s enclosure open. It springs upward to the bottom of your stomach and exposes your glistening sex on full display, arousal seeping from your folds.

“Mm, someone’s eager,” he coos, swiping a finger through your slick. He brings it to his lips, half-lidded rubies flicking up to you as he swirls his tongue around his own finger, collecting it all seductively.

“God, baby, you taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Fucking hell, Katsuki,” you moan, rolling your head back as your mind floods with pleasure.

Bakugo groans as he plunges into your soaking wet center, drinking up every drop of your juices as his tongue circles back and forth from your entrance to your clit. You twitch as a sinful mewl spills out of you, echoing through his office.

“Sh-shit, sorry,” you whimper as another groan is coaxed out of you.

“Fuckin’ scream if y’wanna, baby. Don’t hide those pretty little moans,” he hums in between laps of his tongue, vibrations of his husky voice sent straight into your core. His fingers trail up your body to your throat, tracing your jawline as he moves to your lips, pressing his fingers to them.

“Now be a good girl and open wide.”

You obey, taking his digits into your mouth and roll your tongue around his calloused finger pads.

The inferno blazing in your abdomen is becoming unbearable, rapidly approaching your limit. You didn’t even need foreplay, the thought - and sight - of him jerking off to your pictures was more than enough to catapult you to the edge.

You pull back and release his fingers, a string of drool connecting from your lips to his fingertips.

”N-ah-not to r-rush you, babe, b-but I don’t wanna finish on you’re face,” you say between gasps. “I n-need you to f-fuck me until this goddamn desk breaks. I w-ah-nna come ah-ll over your -”

Bakugo doesn't let you finish your request as he's springing to his feet and scooping his hands under your ass. He positions himself up against your entrance and shoves his cock to the hilt inside of you - full force.

"Anything for you, princess," he growls, enjoying the site of your bouncing tits spilling out of your bodysuit as he begins to thrust aggressively into your weeping cunt. His hands grip into the plush of your ass as he pushes and pulls over and over again, spreading you open.

The burn and stretch of him inside you makes you cry out in ecstasy. You’ll never grow tired of just how fucking good he feels, especially when he’s so deep that it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. It’s like he was destined to fuck you with how perfect the two of you meld together.

Bakugo takes one hand off your ass to harshly tug on the zipper between you two, releasing your breast from their clothed confinement. He immediately dips down while moving his hand to your back for support, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking with a rough pop of his lips. A frenzied moan escapes you, arching your back into his body, fueling a carnal desire within him as he continues to nip at your fragile skin, littering your chest with pricks of red in his wake.

You eagerly run your hands to the bottom of his tank top, tugging it up his chest and stopping on his pecs. The second your fingers roll over his harden buds, a guttural groan erupts from his throat. He lurches down, biting at your collarbone. You can feel his canines sink into your skin as you whine his name again and again, each one growing lustier with each snap of his hips.

"F-fuck, 'm not...g-uh," Bakugo stutters into the crook of your neck as he picks up the pace, his rhythm becoming haphazard as his thighs begin to tense.

"M-me too," you cry out, cupping his cheek in your hand to turn his eyes to you.

“I-I love you,” you whisper before biting at his bottom lip, sucking it harshly into a messy kiss as you beg for him to reciprocate.

He groans against your lips, crashing into you with his tongue and teeth, nibbling on your bottom lip in return. The lingering taste of your own cum swirls between your kiss as your body clenches, intoxicated by the intensity of your upcoming orgasm.

Bakugo breaks your kiss as his chest is heaving in sync with your own.

“I-fuck! I fucking love you,” he snarls in your ear. Your walls are clamping down all around his cock, the intense sensation too much for him to bare. He jerks a few more times as the both of you reach your peak, the wave of shared euphoria crashing down as you explosively release together. Heat floods into your center, a mix of your slick and his cum leaking down your thighs. Your body’s convulse in tandem, quivering from the recoil of your joint climax.

“Hell of a surprise, baby,” Bakugo whistles, catching his breath as he slides out of you and sits back in his office chair. He can’t help but stare at you as you soak in the afterglow of your orgasm. You were absolutely beautiful to him, especially splayed over his office desk stuffed full of his seed.

Good thing he had a corner office where no one bothered him if the door was closed. It was late, anyways, it was unlikely anyone was wandering around the agency at this hour.

You push off the desk and make your way over to your bag by the door. Rummaging around, you pull out a towel, a fresh pair of underwear, sweatpants and a Dynamight hoodie to change into. Bakugo notices and can’t help but cackle at how prepared you were as you change clothes and toss him the towel to clean himself up after you.

“I know you’re a through planner, babe, but damn.”

“Well, that wasn’t the surprise I was talking about,” you say mischievously.

He quirks an eyebrow at you as he fixes his shirt and scoots forward in his chair to finish putting his pants back on. “Oh?”

You strut over to him, straddling his lap and snaking your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you in place.

“I actually had a whole dinner and whatnot planned for tonight, but I couldn’t wait after you said you’d be caught up in the office.”

Bakugo’s confusion deepens at your comment, unsure of what it is you could be hinting at. He scrunches his brows together, tilting his head to the side.

“Sorry for gettin’ stuck here and messin’ up your plan. Now are y’gonna tell me what it is, or…?”

You’re mentally preparing yourself as you unlace one arm from around his neck and reach into the pocket of your sweatpants, trembling with excitement.

“Remember how I’ve complaining about how sore and achy I’ve been lately?”

“Yeah, y’had that blood test a few days ago. Did ya get that back today?” He asks, not following what that had to do with whatever surprise you had planned.

“I did,” you say as you hand him the folded piece of paper. “I found out why.”

Bakugo shifts the office chair closer to the desk, allowing you to lean back against the trim as he used his hands to unfold the paper. Your demeanor hints that you’re not sick or in bad health, so he’s not immediately worried. He’s scanning over the results until his eyes settle on one particular section.

“No fucking way, are you serious?!” He’s practically vibrating out of the chair beneath you.

You nod your head vigorously. “Mhm! Think Mitsuki saved your old All Might onesies?”

He snatches you by the waist as he jumps to his feet, cradling you as he spins ecstatically. You don’t recall a time, aside from your wedding, that you’ve seen him this overjoyed about anything. Setting you down on the desk, parting your legs to remain as close as possible to you. He cradles your face in his heated palms. The smile that adorns his lips is genuine, his eyes aflame with adoration.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, y/n.”

Bakugo locks his lips with yours, and the kiss isn’t sexual in nature. It’s full of love and endearment, a tenderness that makes your heart flutter and fills your body with bliss. When the two of you part, his eyes are glassy as he touches his forehead to yours.

“We’re finally gettin’ to start our family,” he whispers. “I’m gonna be a fuckin’ dad. Holy shit.”

Hearing him say it out loud makes you choke out the sob you’ve been withholding, beaming with happiness as your tears start to flow.

“Up for the challenge?” You tease playfully, sniveling and giggling as you pull him close for a hug.

“With you? Always.”

Bakugo takes a step back from your hold to delicately place a hand on your stomach, touching you as if you were made of porcelain.

“Do y’know how far along you are?”

“The doctor told me on the phone about 8 or 9 weeks. I thought my period was late from work stress all this time.”

“You’re definitely not workin’ after tonight!” Bakugo demands, his hands moving to your shoulders. “No way in hell you’re fighting with our baby taggin’ along in ya. I’m the boss ‘round here anyways, I’ll handle the stressful shit from now on.”

“Okay, hotshot. Calm down,” you joke, reaching up and ruffling his spiky locks. He sighs, shoulders slumping as the anxiety leaves his body.

“Now I feel kinda bad for railin’ you so hard against the desk,” he snickers, a blush creeping up his neck as he turns his head away from you.

“Oh, I don’t. How do you think I got pregnant in the first place?”

Embarrassment rushes straight to his cheeks, burning hot at your lewd comment. His reaction sends you into a fit of laughter, holding your stomach as you lay back on his desk.

“Better get used to not seeing me in that tight ass suit anymore, I bet it won’t even fit in a month’s time,” you exclaim, shaking your head at the thought.

Bakugo snorts. “Don’t matter if it fits or not, I’m gonna make ya wear it.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling from ear to ear.

How’d you get so lucky? You’ll never know.

“So,” you exhale, sitting up on the desk. “Who do we tell first?”

He ponders your question and rolls his eyes at his own answer before speaking it aloud.

“Ma would kill me if her and pop weren’t first in line. Wanna stop by on the way home, get it outta the way?”

“Hah, alright. We can call my mom tomorrow and stop in. She should be back from her work trip by then.”

Another thought crosses your mind.

“Oh shit…do we tell Izuku or Kirishima first?”

Bakugo laughs out loud. “One step at a time, baby. ‘S a problem for tomorrow.”

Who would have thought this day would come? Two years of uncertainty and waiting has finally paid off, you couldn’t be more thrilled.

A memory flashes in your head from high school from a decade ago, walking into home room at UA High for the first time with Izuku as you spot Katsuki in the far row. You waved to him as he flipped you the bird, scowl painted on his face as he grumbled in his seat.

If someone would have told you that day he’s the one you’d date after graduation, marry and have a family with, you would have said they’re fucking insane.

And maybe it was insane, but you love every minute of it.

After this, I can imagine Bakugo deep diving into everything related to pregnancy - devouring every damn educational book, building the nursery three times before he's satisfied with its style and function, spoiling you endlessly with anything you ask for, and being extremely protective of you. :)

Divider by : @/saradika

[jakevwebber]

we know better - rigel wilde x fem reader

october 22nd

halloween party

tonight was the halloween party this was the biggest party of the year , everybody enjoyed halloween over any season so we always went out for this party.

only tonight the year above us were coming meaning 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙚𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚 would be there , to sum up about rigel he never dated anybody ever always kept to himself but i began to 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 him the more i saw him around school and decided to let him know that so when he finally realised he decided to keep us a secret .

we aren’t dating nor do we have feelings for each other we just like to fuck on the odd occasion nobody knows right now except for us and it will hopefully be kept that way.

but he’s the year above and we have never been near each other like this outside of school infront of people so hopefully both of us can contain ourselves otherwise the secrets out when we know better.

7:46 pm

i finished getting ready putting on my red lipstick smudging the corner a little bit grabbing my jacket a bat and my bag with random bits.

i called an uber and sat on my front porch waiting for the uber to arrive , while waiting i went on my going onto snapchat snapping all my friends back a picture of me posing .

my best friend fiorélla messaged me asking how long i was going to be and what my outfit turned out like so i messaged back saying i’d be around 20 minutes and then sent her a snap.

my uber finally pulled up and i got inside closing the door and the man set off.

8:11pm

fiorélla was waiting for me on the sidewalk of the house , i got out the uber going up to her hugging her and giving her a kiss telling her how sexy she looked she returned the favour

we walked inside and the music was incredibly loud loads of people dancing by themselves or on each other and drinks in their hand , firoélla was holding my hand to drag me through the crowd to get to the kitchen .

we got to the kitchen i grabbed a red cup for me and her fi added vodka to our cups and i added red bull as a mixer and fi added coca cola.

“have you spotted fuck face yet?” fi asks

my heart dropped

“w-what?”

“fuck face ?” she looks at me confused

my heart gains consciousness again

“ohhhh stella no no i haven’t thank god i don’t want to” i laugh

“who did you think i was on about”

“idk that’s why i was confused”

she nodded and kissed my cheek and walked into the dining room after spotting her boyfriend zacheyo .

i continued finishing my drink and then pouring myself another and walking into the main room where everybody was dancing.

i joined in with the dancing after spotting my two friends vico and aria , whole i was dancing and moving around the round i made eye contact with rigel i didn’t even know he was here yet

i paused for a second then carried on dancing making sure nobody notices i didn’t see directly but i could feel him just staring at me .

i walked away from the dancing to get another drink i walked the other way so i didn’t have to walk past him but he obviously followed me and ended up standing infront of me with the counter in the way.

i got the vodka and cranberry mixing it together and then finally looking at him while i take a sip

then i realise what he’s wearing .

he’s gone as the joker and i’m harley this can’t be a coincidence no way

“how did u know i was harley” i asked

“i didn’t” he said with a smirk

“you must have heard me talk about it because why would u come as joker you don’t even like dressing up unless it’s a masquerade ball we’re it’s only a mask”

“i love that you know so much about me” he smiled

“i’m really not trying to make this obvious because your the one that would get backlash for being with me or fucking me so if you don’t want anybody to know shut up and stop” i say

he walked round the counter to stand closer to me “i don’t really care anymore , i’d been thinking about it and i don’t care”

i looked up at him in shock

“what?” i did a small shocked giggle

“you heard me” he smirked

10:26pm

i was so drunk it was unbelievable fi went home with her boyfriend because she wasn’t well and made sure aria would take me home so i was safe even tho i was gonna be safe either way.

the whole night rigel would go back and forth from the sofa to the kitchen to then dancing with me , to be honest i don’t think anybody noticed me and rigel everyone was probably too drunk.

rigel was now dancing with me and the song hell is round the corner came on.

i immediately looked at rigel laughing and smiling him doing the same , this song would come on slot when we would be having sex which made us now dancing very intimate.

his hands were trailing up and down my waist as my back was leaning against his chest.

he couldn’t hold himself back so he grabbed my hand took me upstairs to an empty room with a lock immediately pushing me onto the bed and then locking to door and then began taking his jacket off and mine.

my back played against the mattress with rigel above me kissing me deeply

he continued the kisses from my mouth to my neck and carried on till he reached my shorts

“can i take these off?” he asked

i nodded and he took my shorts and thong off leaving my bottom half bare

he moved his body back up to near me and took his shirt off and then took mine off throwing both to the floor

rigel made his way up to my bra unhooking the clip at the back revealing my boobs he eagerly moved his hands straight to them kissing them

"rigel please i need you"

"using your words good girl"

he began kissing up my thighs until he reached my clit starting to pleasure me by kissing my clit licking the folds up and down i was out of breath moaning quietly

he stopped kissing me and brought two fingers near my mouth then making me suck on them and bringing them down near my hole teasing me slightly just rubbing them around my hole touching each fold

"plea-se"

"what was that?"

"rigel please i need you”

he shoved his fingers straight into my hole curling his fingers inside then bringing them in and out

my moans were so loud it was echoing through the walls

"words."

"faster rigel"

he somehow got faster making me moan i covered my mouth arching my back

"im gon-gonna cum"

"not yet sexy"

"please"

he wriggled his fingers inside of me curling them again hitting my g-spot making me edge when he realised he took his fingers out of me leaving me empty.

he sat on his knees in between my legs starting to unbuckle his belt , take his jeans off then his boxers his cock sprung up after he brought his boxers down and he began to rub his thumb over his tip before leaning over me he kissed me again

"are u sure you want to carry on baby?"

"yes" i say out of breath

he was looking down at his cock holding onto it before positioning it at my folds sliding in slowly gripping one side of my waist bringing me down onto him faster

"omg ri-rigel"

he was moving faster and faster but it was incredible he moved his hand from my waist to my boob griping onto it squeezing it roughly

"rigel faster please"

"on it baby"

he kept slamming into me making me scream and moan in pleasure and pain

he turned me over so i was now on top of him while he was still inside of me and i began riding him , he was holding both sides of my waist lightly as i was doing the work i was moving backwards and forwards placing my hands on his chest with my boobs in his face

"i can't do it"

"i'll take over don't worry"

he was now gripping my waist slamming me on him going up and down throwing his head back moaning loudly digging his nails into my sides

"y/n please"

i was so close and so was he but he kept going as fast as he could he quickly grabbed both my boobs hoping it would help keep me up right

"i'm gonna cum" he groaned

"let's together"

i started to ride him again and he moved me up and down then we both moaned loudly and finished together.

“that was good” i said out of breath getting off him

“yeah it was , we should keep doing it with no distractions” while saying this he was putting his boxers back on sat on the edge of the bed and me sat the other side putting my panties and bra on

“what does that mean ?”

“i want to be with you , like properly , let everyone know becuase i don’t care anymore and i know you never did” he said smiling at me

“really?”

“yeah”

i walk over to him sitting on his lap my arms around his neck and began kissing him again

“i’ll be your girlfriend then but you have to ask me out properly”

“who said i wasn’t going to do it properly?” he laughed kissing my cheek

————————————————

so sorry guys for how long this took but please give this as much attention as you can !! thank you all for make sure to remind em all the time love you ❤️

i have also not checked this so if there’s a spelling mistake i apologise i do hope you enjoy this 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏼

tag list 🏷️:

@druigss @asunshine15 @langdons-slut @inlovewithscream @alifeinspiredd @fratbrrygf @estr3lladyox1de @xxshadowxxs-blog @venomsvl @sparksthemarauder @theoslove

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 10.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

wordcount: 6.2k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

and here we have it! the end of act 1 of banshee's lament. it will be going on a hiatus while i plan and write most of act 2. so sorry for the long wait. i hope y'all enjoy!!

content: smut (specifics under the cut), angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, graphic depictions of violence, death

story playlist

warning: p in v, loss of virginity

The silence was stifling– the usually bustling keep was quiet. It didn’t breathe nor creak like normal. It was lulled to sleep. 

The scent of fading smoke still permeated the air, lingering down into paltry ash. Shera wasn’t sure if it was her dream still at play. The world around her suddenly felt different. Not just at Aegon’s pronouncement, but the tone of reality was slightly askew. Askew and off color. There was a throbbing deep within Shera’s skull as if she’d lost something dear— or mayhaps, a memory she was never meant to have was shoved into her cranium. An intense pressure pressed at her mind, threatening to drive her mad. 

Shera held onto Aemond for as long as she could, as long as he would have her. His arm was tucked under her legs to hoist her up, his other arm secure around her back, pressing her to him. She felt safe, peering over his shoulder like a stealthy cat. He held her up with ease as she observed Aegon, now apparently pronounced ‘King’. She should be shocked– but she knew Viserys had passed. She watched it, in some twisted semblance of the vision her poppy-addled mind had concocted.

“How long have… I been asleep for?” she asked Aemond tentatively, whispering into his ear. 

“Five days.” 

Five days. Much happens in five days, then. 

“Is everyone… alright? Helaena? The children?” she posed the question to Aegon then as Aemond sat her back down on her bed. She squirmed slightly, not wanting to stay in bed any longer. 

“Everyone is fine,” Aegon said, quirking a brow to Aemond. “She’s awake now. You should go before grandsire gets any more cross.” 

Go? Where are you going? She stared at Aemond with a pinched expression, tilting her head. 

“I will return, Shera,” he paused, brow furrowing. “I promise. Then, we shall speak. ‘Tis a quick flight to Storm’s End.” 

“He is petitioning Lord Borros on my behalf, so the Baratheon seat will declare for me.” Aegon answered swiftly as Shera’s mouth opened to protest. 

“Petitioning?” she interjected. 

“Daeron will be a suitable match for any of his four daughters, I assume.” Aemond nods to Aegon, whom tips his head in agreement. “Keep Shera safe, brother.” 

“‘Tis no greater honor upon a King to guard the banshee.” 

Shera scowls, folding her arms over her chest. Even with the crown upon his head, Aegon was still an agitation. 

Aemond rolled his eye in turn, prying one of Shera’s arms from her chest, turning her palm upwards. “We will speak further, little wolf,” he whispered, leaning down to the shell of her ear. “I hope to never see you in red again. You’re better suited to blue.” 

Shera’s eye wandered to the bedside table where her dress, the red and black garment worn at the Lucerys’ inheritance hearing, was strewn. 

“You should have Vhagar burn it, then,” she hummed back, the ghost of a smile curling at her lips. “Along with any other pieces of my wardrobe you deem… unsuitable.”

“I’d say what you’re wearing currently is, in fact, unsuitable, my lady,” Aemond responded, his thumb pressing into her upturned palm. Not a warning. It was a promise.

Aegon cleared his throat. “If you two are going to fuck, get on with it. Make it a show for your king, then! I haven’t got all night.” 

Heat burned at Shera’s cheeks as she hid her face sheepishly in Aemond’s shoulder. He gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead and let go of her hand. “If I were a lesser brother, you would be eating a meal of your own teeth, Aegon.” 

And then he was gone. The door closed behind him and the warmth of the room vanished. Aegon didn’t make a move to leave— in fact, he adjusted himself to be more comfortable. 

“You’re… staying?” Shera questioned softly. 

“I promised my honorable brother I would keep you safe, did I not? I cannot very well do so if I leave.” 

A long silence stretched between them. It wasn’t awkward, per se, but it felt overbearing. It felt… heavy for both of them. A proverbial woolen blanket casted over them, warmth rising to a point of discomfort, to which Shera couldn’t be silent any longer.

“Why did you do it, Aegon? This… this will bring disaster for everyone,” she exasperated suddenly, the breath leaving her lungs as she thought of all the things that could, no, would happen. She worried her lip between her teeth as she stared at Aegon. “You usurped her. You usurped Daemon.”

“Why? You really ask me that, Shera?” he responded, lazed back in his chair. 

“Explain it to me– so I might… understand.” 

“They will do anything to secure their position. You know that– they… they would kill my children, kill my siblings, my… my mother–” the king choked on the last word like it was bile stuck in his craw. 

“You don’t know that for sure, Aegon.” She didn’t want to believe it, even if it was likely true. Undoubtedly true. she thought.

“Look what they did to you, Shera. They mauled you like beasts and then expected you to be okay with it. They betrothed you to one of them. I may be a drunken lecher, but even I know it's wrong,” he took a shaky breath, the heights of his cheeks reddened. “They took my brother’s eye and no punishments were brought forth. Daemon caved his first wife’s head in with a rock and was allowed to marry into Velaryon money, even. They killed Vaemond in the throne room in front of two dozen guards and the bleeding King for fuck’s sake– and nothing happened.” 

“Aegon…” 

“I am not my mother’s favorite child, I know that. I am not my sister’s favorite brother. I am not your favorite Targaryen by any means. I…” Aegon twisted his rings on his fingers in a way so reminiscent of Alicent. “I cannot sit by idly and let them take and take and take until we,” he gestured between the two of them, then beyond to the general direction of his mother, sister and children’s chambers. “Until we are nothing but dust and ash,” his knuckles were white as he was straining, fist clenching the back of his chair. “Make no mistake, I do not want this. I don’t want the burden, the strife. I’d be much happier stripped of all titles and frills and be nameless in Essos–” he paused, swallowing. He could say it all he liked but knew it not to be true. He needed his family-- as much as they needed him in this moment.

Aegon had always been the eldest of them all, shouldering the brunt of what it meant to be eldest child, but never the favorite. Expectations set upon him the moment he exited his mother's womb, but never sought to fruition.  The deep set dark circles under his eyes were reminiscent of someone much older, who had been through much more– but his posture; defeated for the last time as a disappointment, slouched, veins bulging from his hand was a painted picture of a child, a child who wanted to do better. Who had to be better. This would be his metamorphosis.

“Mother said that he professed me his heir with his dying breath. Mother is many things— but I do not think her to lie like this. Especially against Rhaenyra.” 

Aegon’s dream. The depiction of the younger, much more alive Viserys danced before Shera’s gaze once more. If the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king. 

Or a queen. 

But the latter was left unsaid, wasn’t it?

“Then… this is… war?” she finally uttered, looking down at her hands. 

“Indeed.” Aegon acknowledged, his voice hollow. 

—

The sky finally cleared, if only for a moment. The roiling clouds opened a pathway to Storm’s End, allowing Vhagar to ascend towards the land with ease. Aemond kept his head low as he scoured the palisade, seeing the puny figure of a green and yellow tinged dragon. He felt Vhagar tense beneath him ever so slightly, the bubbling of a growl stuck in her craw. 

Vermax. Aemond would recognize his eldest nephew’s bile colored dragon anywhere. Steering Vhagar outside of the castle walls and as far away from the snack-shaped whelpling as possible, he slid down from the saddle. 

He didn’t fancy much having to beg and plead Lord Borros against Jacaerys— it was unbecoming. He loathed having to beg for anything, especially from an oaf like Borros. The man could not even read and apparently only knew how to sire girls. Aemond pitied Daeron having to deal with the Baratheon lord as his future good-father. 

The prince’s steps were quiet and measured, hands behind his back. The clouds swirled above, threatening to dole out the Gods’ wrath once more. 

“Prince Aemond of House Targaryen has arrived, Lord Baratheon,” the page announced, leading him to the seat of Storm’s End. 

It was a terribly bleak room, Aemond thought. In tune with a bleak castle and bleak house. The Baratheon house words were ‘Ours is the Fury’. There was certainly nothing ferocious to be seen, however. 

Borros Baratheon lazed in his stone chair like a sloven boar as a maester read off a missive next to him. “Another Targaryen prince graces Storm’s End. The house of the Dragon is confused on who rules it and the realm, it seems. The young pup here is asking for a declaration for the Queen. Might I ask what you are asking, prince Aemond? And what you might offer.” he balanced a single gold dragon between chubby, sausage-like fingers. 

“I’ve come to seek House Baratheon’s alliance with the true king— King Aegon, second of his name. May I remind you that the current sitting monarch does indeed have the Conqueror’s name, his crown, and his weapon,” Aemond began, standing with a rigid back. 

Jacaerys was there, as well, meandering on the outskirts of the room. Anxiety roiled off of him like smoke from a dragon’s nostrils— albeit, a puny one. 

Aemond paid him no mind as he continued. “I fear the Queen that my naïve nephew proclaims for is a farce. My father named Aegon his heir upon his dying breath, denouncing Rhaenyra.” 

“Grandsire would never!” Jacaerys butt in. “My mother has been named heir and upheld for years. The vipers are spewing their poison, my lord. Their lies are not to be believed.” 

“Aegon was crowned in the Dragonpit before Gods and men, as well as blessed by a Septon. I do not recall your mother being coronated with the conqueror’s crown, nephew? Ah, that would be due to her incessant need to hide upon Dragonstone.”

“My mother was crowned b—,” 

“That is enough!” Borros bellowed, sitting up in his chair slightly. “I don’t care what the Gods have professed, nor a dead King. What can you offer me, Prince Aemond?” 

“A betrothal of my brother, Prince Daeron, to one of your daughters.” Aemond said simply. He knew that Rhaenyra did not have any sons to offer up, all of them being betrothed or still in child’s nappies. It was a fruitless affair.

“May I remind you, Lord Borros, of the oath that your father took in favor of my mother, the rightful heir?” Jacaerys cut in again, voice raising in urgency. Aemond could feel the nerves pouring off of him, no doubt feeling the pressure of failure weighing upon his shoulders.

“That is all well and fine, young prince— but I am not my father, am I? Am I so beholden to the oath of someone who is dead? An oath made when your mother was barely fourteen?” Borros perked a brow as he continued to flip the coin between his fingers. “You weren’t even a thought yet, nary conceived.” 

Jacaerys shifted his weight between both feet, clenching his jaw. His leather gloves squeaked under the balling of his fist— and yet, he stayed silent.

“Your uncle brings me quite the offer. I can wed one of my daughters into the King’s family with ease. What do you offer, little prince?”

“My mother’s favor, my lord. The Baratheon name will be sung through the halls of court when she ascends to her throne, rightfully.” 

“Her favor? And what can I do with favors and minstrel’s songs? I cannot even wipe my arse with those pitiful offerings.” 

“Lord Baratheon—,” Jace attempted to interject.

Borros silenced him with a firm hand. “You’ve lost, boy. Go back to your mother with your tail between your legs,” the stout Baratheon looked at Aemond, who was quiet all the while with his hands neatly behind his back. “House Baratheon declares for King Aegon, second of his name.”

—

Finalizing the affair with Borros was surprisingly straightforward— Daeron would have his pick of four brides when the war was over. Borros didn’t seem to favor any of his four daughters to be wed over one another, but he did mention his youngest being the most ‘comely’. 

Shera crossed his mind for a moment, thinking of the situation— she was no different than any of Lord Baratheon’s daughters, was she? In circumstance, merely a pawn for treaties, alliances to be forged, bloodlines to be mingled and heirs to be conceived. Surely, the state of the realm severed her betrothal to Jacaerys, wasn’t it? And if not, surely Aegon would be prevalent to dissolve it. 

But Aegon wasn’t the only one with power or a voice. He was the final say and could invoke absolute authority if needed— but it would be wasted on something as tedious as a betrothal during a war. Cregan wouldn’t forsake his oath to Rhaenyra for anything, it seemed. Not even for his own sister. Nothing would be gained by marrying Shera, not in the eyes of the council at least.

Aemond curled his lip in agitation as he left the Keep, fearing that his brain may wither and die if he were to share any further words with that oaf. The ground rumbled with the promise of thunder, as well as Vhagar’s looming presence beyond the walls. Heavy clouds loomed above, dark and swirling. 

He felt something cold against his throat as he was suddenly pushed backwards, undoubtedly with a weapon to him. Grabbing his attacker’s arm, he twisted it at an awkward angle and shifted his body weight to stagger them. Wringing their arm behind their back, he spoke evenly. “Drop your weapon.” 

A clang of metal upon stones was heard as Aemond got a look at his opponent’s face. “Jacaerys. That was a pitiful attempt, truly.” he drawled, hoisting his nephew’s arm higher behind his back. 

The young prince grunted in pain, thrashing against his uncle like a pinned animal. “Where is she?! You and your damnable brother have her captive, you cowards!”

Aemond blinked once. Twice. He was referring to Shera. Did his nephew actually care for her? Or mayhaps the reaction of her brother, instead, that he was afraid of. “She’s safe, ‘tis all you need to know. She’s away from you and your inept side of the family. In fact, I daresay, she is with her real family.” he let go of Jace’s arm, shoving him away and sending him spiraling on the cobble. He drew his dagger, twirling it. “Do you really think anyone believes your charade, nephew? That you actually like her?” 

Jacaerys got back to his feet, unsheathing his sword. His grip was shaky, but with some intention. “You know nothing, uncle! I care for her— we are to be married!” he professed the words with hollow conviction, a dullness behind his deep brown eyes giving way to his true emotion: doubt. 

“You care for her? If that’s true, you’ll climb upon your puny dragon and go back to Dragonstone with your tail tucked between your legs. Cry to your mummy and tell her to cease this silly charade of war— and never, ever mention Shera’s name again. She’s too good for the likes of you, bastard.” Aemond spat.

Jacaerys surged forward, sloppy and fueled by anger alone. Aemond shouldered his blow, clashing the metal of his dagger with the shortsword. “A rematch, then, nephew? I don’t believe your guard dog is here to so valiantly come to your side, is he?” the elder prince taunted, felling another haphazard strike– sparks flew from their respective weapons, years of resentment, the bullying, prods and exchanges, taking his Shera, it had all finally come to a head. An elude to a dance between them. 

Metal bit metal, flickers of those flames bleeding from their blades with each strike, strike, strike. 

“Since you very well fancy yourself a dragonrider, nephew,” Aemond continued to tease, gaining ground on Jacaerys with ease. “How about we take this fight to the skies, hm? Vhagar would do well with a snack out of your shitty little whelp.” he cocked his head to the side as lightning struck behind them, near the sea. The skies churned and toiled, swirling like a threatening witch’s brew. Then came the thunder, rumbling and shaking the ground beneath them. “I shall give you a head start,” Aemond hummed, twirling his blade. “Run.”

It was a blur of adrenaline, the pressure of the storm and something ancient brewing in his blood. He did not remember mounting Vhagar and beginning the chase. But as the rain pelted his face like shards of ice piercing his soul, his whole body sung. It was alight with fire, with molten lava straight from the molten hells of Old Valyria. Vhagar rumbled beneath him, as if to share sentiment with his thoughts.

“Dakogon, valītsos!” Run, boy! He yelled into the raging storm, not caring that he was thoroughly soaked to the bone. He felt alive.

The blur of Vermax dodging and weaving through the clouds, above and below the storm, was all Aemond saw besides the red in his vision. Crimson fury coursed through him as he thought back to Driftmark, feeling a ghost of the pain light up his nerves. The roar of the storm was muted over the ringing, the white noise playing in his ears, the echo of his own screams as a child being mutilated. He never told Shera, nay, anyone, but he had heard her cries. He had heard the colluding of his family to murder her. 

“Kill her! She’s going to tell on us, Baela!” one of the other kids had cried. 

“I-I can’t! I can’t kill her, Jace!” Baela wailed back. “T-That would be… wrong!” 

What was left of his strength at that moment, Aemond mustered it. Baela had the knife pressed to Shera’s throat, hand shaking. The Stark girl was eerily still, soft whimpering cries coming from her. Blood was everywhere, the whites of her eyes no longer white, but stained red.

He would save her, he had to! 

He hardly remembered moving, it was all autonomous, as he pushed his cousin’s arm wielding the knife away– 

The tunnel was silent, save for the noise of sickly gurgling as blood filled Shera’s throat. It wasn’t the action of Baela that cut it. It was Aemond’s paltry attempt to save her.

It was truly an accident.

Aemond was pulled out of the memory by Vhagar’s agitated roar, Vermax spitting fire at her from in front. It wouldn’t hurt the old dragon, no, the whelp’s flames didn’t burn hot enough for that. But it was an annoyance to her– she was the Queen of Dragons, how could a lowly little hatchling think himself big enough to challenge her? Any semblance of clarity in Aemond’s clouded mind was snuffed out at Vermax’s display of aggression. 

Instead, he plunged deeper into it. He embraced the madness. “Ao sylugon naejot vīlībagon se dāria zaldrīzoti, nādrēsy?” You dare challenge the Queen of Dragons, bastard? “Kesan jikagon ao arlī naejot aōha muña isse ñuqir!” I will send you back to your mother in ashes.

An updraft lifted Vhagar, her gargantuan wings billowing like sails as she rode the wind. They were approaching a craggy outcrop of cliffs which would spell doom for any would-be sailor. But they were not sailors. Tucking in her wings, she dove downward towards Vermax. Vhagar was not the fastest dragon by any means, but her size coupled with gravity pulling downward made her as fast as an arrow, barrelling towards the pair. 

They were at war. It would be justified, surely. It was on the tip of his tongue. Dra—

No. No. 

“Keligon,” he whispered. Stop. “Keligon, Vhagar!” Stop! He pulled at the reins to steer them towards the open sea. 

Vermax and Jacaerys Velaryon disappeared into the hovel of crags, just small enough to slip into them.

Vhagar protested, growling, snarling, blowing fire into the air as they skimmed the surface of the ocean, more water spraying across Aemond’s face, some droplets turned to stinging steam.

Why did he stop?

He could’ve killed Jacaerys and then Rhaenyra’s side would be down one dragonrider. Shera would not be betrothed any longer. It would be revenge.

But– he remembered Shera rambling about something a few weeks prior. 

Shera held a red leaf between her thumb and forefinger, observing it with a careful gaze. They had liaised into the Godswood after his morning training. She was wearing her usual garb of black and white with a lacy train that was getting caught in the twigs and grass as she walked. Her veil was off of her face, pulled to rest behind her neck for a moment of reprieve. 

“The leaves are falling,” she murmured, her moonstone jewelry on her hands shining as the sunlight filtered through waving foliage. “Do you think the Gods are watching us, Aemond?”

He glanced at her as he was loosening his armored gauntlets, unstrapping the leather beneath them. “Mayhaps.”

“They’re selective when they do see, don’t they? What makes a God? And what are we…” she dropped the leaf, letting it float away on the breeze. “But just spaces in between? We wish to be blessed by being good, by adhering to their rules. The faith of the Seven condemn bastardry as a sin. The old Gods of the North behold guest rights as an immutable law. Both hold Kinslaying to the highest of faults, none are more damned than a Kinslayer,” her eye met Aemond’s as she tilted her head. “I want to believe in it all, to be good, to appease… but sometimes I feel as if it’s never enough. It seems they only pay attention when you are to be cursed for your wrongdoings.” 

Aemond clenched his jaw as he guided Vhagar back to King’s Landing.

—

“You’re inevitable, you’ve always been.” he muttered, loosening the fingertips of his gloves before removing them. 

Shera poked her head up from the doorway, nightgown billowing around her like a ghostly shift. It was late— extremely so. The candles had burnt out, the only light available illuminating from the moon. “Aem… ond?” she squeaked, voice laden with sleep. A poor pageboy had been sent to wake her, the shaken lad citing ‘The prince requested your presence immediately in his chambers’. It remained a mystery to her how Aemond had even found a servant at this ungodly hour.

“Why are you inevitable to me? It’s as if I’m looking at my death when I see you, think of you— you’re a parasite upon my own mind, like I have no self control.” he continued, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight. One hand was clutched at his head, fingers running through his hair. The luminosity glared off of the sapphire embedded into his socket— he looked quite mad. Mad in a beautiful, haunting sort of way. 

Shera thought them made for one another. “I’m… I’m sorry,” she said, slipping into the room and closing the door behind her. Moongeist had escorted her, but he was left outside the chamber now. It was only her and Aemond. “I didn’t think… I occupied so much of your mind.” 

“I could’ve killed him tonight, you know. Chased his whelp of a dragon through the storm and scattered him across the bay,” Aemond rambled on, not addressing that Shera was even speaking. “I should have. Put the title of Kinslayer on me, over my head. I’m already damned.”

Walking closer, he was soaked head to toe, rain water still dripping from his leathers. His hair clung to his skin, curled softly in its dampness. It almost brought a smile to her face, the curls she thought he lost were still there— but the mood of the room, the distant rumble of thunder, was oppressive. It felt like a hood over their heads. 

“Would you still love me if I was a Kinslayer?” he turned to her completely. Even in the dark, she could see the smallest rim of violet in his eye— eclipsed by his blown out pupil. His expression was blank, mood unknowable. 

Her stomach twisted at his words, legs feeling shaky beneath her once more. She hadn’t told him that she loves him, afraid of denial, rejection. Taking a seat in his desk chair before him, she looked up. “Y-you… you must know,” she whispered hoarsely. “You must know my feelings.” 

“Speak it into existence, Shera,” the prince pleaded, almost. “Make it real.” he got on his knees now before her, putting his hands in her lap, palms up— as if he was praying. His head laid sideways on her thighs as he looked onto the darkness, ear up, waiting.

Her heart plummeted to her stomach, to the deepest depths of the hells below them. She never thought herself brave, no, she was quite cowardly, in truth. She would catch a fright from odd shadows and most certainly would never stand up to the face of adversity. She wasn’t made for it. But this— this was something she needed to do. It wasn’t an act of bravery nor valor. It was selfish, cowardly. The words she spoke made it real between them both. And they could not be taken back. Her lips parted slowly, her voice soft as she whispered into his ear. “I love you. I love you irrevocably, irreversibly, irresponsibly, all consumingly,” her words were jagged and unhewn, but it was so much like them. “You are everything, Aemond.” 

Aemond let out the smallest puff of air from his nostrils. He still did not speak, nor verbally reciprocate her declaration. He was, of course, a man of action. His hands slid up to her face, pulling her downward into a ferocious kiss. It wasn’t the sweet one they had shared in the Godswood before— no, this was different. It was the exchanges of breath, tethered to one another’s oxygen like lifelines. His fingers threaded in her hair, tugging, teasing. 

The heat in the room was rising, much like the fervor of their kisses. Tongues fighting, fingers roaming to snatch at exposed skin— anything to be closer, as close as they could be without their veins intertwining. Soon enough, Aemond lifted her up from her seat with one arm, not breaking their connection for even a second. 

“You,” he huffed between her lips as he sat her down at the edge of the bed. “Are mine. You are mine,” his hands left her body as he unbuttoned his soaked jerkin and discarded it to the side carelessly. 

“Yours,” she echoed, her voice not sounding like her own. It was an autonomous thing, to give oneself to another, wholly and completely. 

Laying back on the bed, her nightgown pooled beside her like silver ichor. The ichor slipped through his fingers like silk, pulling it taut. Aemond pauses for a moment, throat bobbing in an unheard ask for consent to go further. Despite his bravado with starting it, there was an air of apprehension swirling around him, an uncertainty that was almost unheard of with Aemond. 

She knew it right away, seeing that own feeling within herself many times. Warmth grew in her chest as she reassured him without words, both hands making a home on his face as she swept him into a kiss that left no room for any other interpretation: she wanted him. Desperately.

To her delight, it seemed he felt the same, if the hardness prodding against her stomach was any indication. He peeled away her lone garment, leaving her bare before him. He blinked, chest rising and falling with a slow, feather light motion. He was observing her with extreme scrutiny, much as he had when he sketched her before. This was something he wanted— needed— to commit to memory. Then, after what felt like an eternity of staring, he let out a deep breath, hands back on her once more. His fingers notched themselves in the soft skin of her hips, silently marveling at them with a less than subtle squeeze. 

They didn’t need words between them. Not now, not for this. Words only got in the way, cluttering what could so clearly be said with action. With reaction. Shera let out a gentle sigh as he continued his exploration, palming her heavy breast, once again giving a squeeze. On mere instinct, to want more, to taste more, her lips latched to his neck and jawline. He wriggled out of his smallclothes and finally there was nothing between them.

Nothing but skin and warmth, on display for one another. All of their collective scars washed away with their extremities as their chests cracked open, bones falling away with all pretense, all duty, all expectation. It was just them. The two colors of their souls mingling together rightfully at last. 

He prodded gently at her entrance, testing for any discomfort. She sung her consent by melding their lips together again, tongues taking one another and savoring as her arms looped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. As he breached her, sliding in slowly, Shera paused for a moment, mouth open against his, peering at him beneath fettered lashes. 

His eye was closed— the one he could still see from. The other, embedded with the sapphire, did not close completely. The puckered skin tried, eclipsing the gem ever so slightly, leaving a crescent of blue to shine through. Aemond’s brow was furrowed, lips pursed in deep concentration as he finally bottomed out inside of her, hand clutched against her thigh, fingers indenting against her skin. 

It didn’t feel right to say anything else at the moment, truly. Her heart hung so heavy in her chest that she feared it would abscond from her ribcage and fall upon the floor. Softly and almost inaudibly, she whispered against his lips. “I love you.” 

Theirs was a muffled pleasure, besotted by one another’s presence that all sound ceased. Only once they had finished, the union of dragon and wolf, Aemond planting his seed deep inside of her, did he speak. “I love you.”

–

It was silent, save for the tandem pitter-patter of two bare feet and four paws. Her heart fluttered in her chest, her body still tingling from the encounter. She still felt his hands on her waist, his lips on the soft column of her neck– he absolutely worshiped her after they got over the awkwardness. 

It felt like second nature after the initial moments�� it felt right, to give themselves to one another, to profess so strongly…

She couldn’t stop smiling. Her cheeks hurt, actually hurt, from smiling so much. When has she ever experienced something like this in her life? 

Her fingers skimmed Moongeist’s soft fur as they went back to her chambers. She had wanted to stay with Aemond, to sleep beside him, to wake up next to him– she had to put mind over matter when she left while he was sleeping. She always figured him a light sleeper due to his incessant training with Ser Cole. She was surprised to learn that he even slept at all. When she had awoken from the tiny nap after their coupling, he was, in fact, asleep– soundly, even.

This was probably the only time he did sleep. She giggled to herself as she imagined it again, sipping at her herbal tea left on the side table, left presumably by the maids. It was lukewarm and could use a bit of heat. When did they leave this?

Perched on the settee, she attempted to cross one leg over the other, but was met with a dull, aching pain in the apex of her thighs.

Oh, right.

Her mind began to swirl as she thought of Aemond waking up… and seeing that she wasn’t there. Would he be upset? Angry? Despondent?

Their time together for the past half year had been enlightening. About herself, about Aemond. The fact of it was– he was just as damaged as she was. He had just mastered the art of masking it. She had a lot to learn from him.

Mayhaps she should write him a note– saying she didn’t want to leave, that she liked what they did, that she loved him, that she wanted to do it again and soon because she was absolutely aching for him–

She needed to calm down, beginning to feel wanton. Her head felt full of cotton, leaking from her ears like one of one of the stuffies that Moongeist destroyed as a puppy. Grabbing a quill and piece of loose parchment from the table.

I have always liked blue. 

What color do you think we make together?

I think it would be a shade of periwinkle, a beautiful layering of vinca on the forest floor.

Please return to me. And we shall see what color we make. 

I feel bereft without you.

She did not address it, nor sign it– Aemond should know her handwriting by now, shouldn’t he? As she folded it up, fuzzy bundles of sheep’s wool cotton spread across the room. When she tried to move, intending to stand up, a sudden illness rose through her, the quill slipping out of her hand. As she stood up, her vision went sideways. Moongeist began to whine, prodding at her hand with his wet nose. 

This wasn’t normal– to be frank, nothing about her usual illnesses was normal. But this was different. She was numb in her extremities, shots of ice spreading through her fingers and toes. It felt like being caught beyond the wall in the maw of an ice dragon, rime-wrought teeth burying into her skin. Moongeist was growling suddenly, snarling and snapping his jaws. She hadn’t heard him so upset in so long, nary ever. 

“Bloody fuckin’ hell! There’s a damn wolf in here!” an unfamiliar voice boomed. 

Who is that? What is happening? Shera clutched the fabric of the chaise as she attempted to right herself, to right her mind and rid it of the cacophony of butterflies that were making a host in her ears.

“‘Course there is, damn rogue wouldn’t mention it! Stave ‘em off while I grab the girl.” another voice responded. 

Please don’t. Please don’t touch me. Moongeist snarled, she heard, his body barrelling toward one of the intruders, knocking over furniture in his way. The wolf was a force to be reckoned with, sizing up to the burglar’s height with ease, over six feet when standing on his hind legs.

The former man’s voice wailed, his scream bloodcurdling, followed by a sickly crunch. “Fuck! Fuck! My fuckin’ fingers!” 

Strong and careless arms hoisted Shera up, her vision still spinning. “S-St… stop… stop,” she whimpered, her limbs feeling like jelly. She tried to wrestle out of his grasp– he smelled terrible. Twisting her body as much as she could, she wriggled against him. 

“Shut up, shut up,” he grunted, looking around the room as Moongeist mauled his companion.

He tore out a chunk of flesh from his arm, then silenced him by ripping out his throat. The first intruder gave a sickly gurgling noise before he went still. 

The man holding Shera bolted towards the opening behind the bookcase. 

“A-Ae-,” Shera rose her voice, trying her damndest to yell, to scream. Her consciousness faded like a failsafe, her voice cut off by a sharp hit to her throat. It felt like a steel ball ripping through her, her voice going dead and falling from her tongue like vomit.

She felt blood in her mouth, flesh in her teeth. She needed the violence, the rage– 

I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll rip you apart, you fucking craven.

She slipped into Moongeist’s being with ease, with urgency, jaws snapping as they whipped around, seeing her corporeal body being taken away.

No, no, no!

They howled, lamenting. 

NO!

Their paws moved fast, chest heaving, lungs ballooning and deflating– so close, so close. 

The bookshelf closed in their face. They howled again, their song filled with anguish. Their nails scratched against the wood, tearing books apart and splinters embedding into their paws. The physical pain was nothing– nothing compared to the tether between lady and wolf wavering. It flitted across the breeze, pulled taut, taut, taut.

Lost.

Taken.

Stolen.

SNAP.

The cord was severed. She was back in her own body again. Her nose was bleeding. She couldn’t speak. She was well and truly silenced now. 

Her vision went dark again as she heard the distant sound of seagulls.

[poraphia]

"A Dancing Rockstar."

➵ PAIRING! cc!lvjy!wilbur x cc!reader

➵ CREATING! 12.8.23 | 1978 words

➵ CONTAINING! party with the qsmp members, brief mention of FitMC and JaidenAnimations, Tubbo being a drunk wingman, reader and wilbur are drunkk, dancing :o

➵ SAYING! hihi guess who tryna get back into writing! I started on this fic like.. a while ago but since this prompt one the poll here it is :))! hope yall enjoy and sorry i been leaving yall hanging i love yall mwa mwa

My masterlist :)

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I wasn’t much for parties, but if you passed me a couple shots of vodka and some damn good music then maybe I could get down to a song or two.

The party was getting loud and heavy. Bodies were sloshing around the dance floor, music rumbled the whole room, and silhouettes could only be defined in blue and pink. I sat on the couch, clutching my glass as I watched my friends dance while laughing and holding each other close. It was interesting watching from afar— seeing these people I had only met months prior in a Minecraft server now here and present before me having the time of their lives.

It was safe to say I knew most of the people here— it is a QSMP party plus some guests after all. I’d like to think I’ve talked to every single member there is to the server, whether they would be frequently active or log in every once in a while, but there was someone in this party I was dying to get to know. Though he only logged in for at max a month, he had a daughter, posed as a son under Phil, and even had some sort of gay romance with Quackity.

You know who I’m talking about.

The myth.

The legend.

“—Wilbur! Pass me another glass, would you?”

Yup. William fucking Gold.

He was here by convenience. Lovejoy was in the city for his worldwide tour and it just so happen that the stars aligned for him (and maybe a bit in my favor too) to be here.

I constantly glanced at him— He stood there next to the bar area and never really left that specific spot. His shoulder was pressed against the pillar wall while his other arm held his red solo cup. Every so often one of his friends would come up to him and spark up a conversation before retreating with other friends. Not Wilbur though. He remained firm in his position at all times, and his eyes would sometimes lurk amongst the dancing bodies. Maybe he was looking for an excuse to join in, but never really found his little reason.

I felt the weight of the sofa shift as someone took their seat next to me. It was Tubbo, who looked wasted, but had some sort of consciousness in him still. His arms sprawled out as he sunk into the cushions, letting out a loud sigh.

“Whewww! I am so… Dizzy…” He exhaled. I rolled my eyes before turning my direction toward him.

“That’s sorta your fault for drinking so much.” I commented. He puffed out his cheeks while squinting at me.

“Psh, I’m a big man now. I know what I’m doing.” He scoffed. “How about you? Doesn’t look like you’re doing much. You’re usually my party buddy here!” He exclaimed, sitting up.

I sighed. “I mean yeah. I guess I’m just a little buzzed.” I shrugged, my gaze leading itself back to Wilbur. His long limb wrapped around the pillar and his cup was now placed on a surface. His mind was occupied with the phone he was clutching in his hand. My head tilted a little at the sight and without realizing, a little smile was forming on my face. This sparked Tubbo’s curiosity.

“Don’t tell me you’re looking at..—” Before Tubbo could say anything else, I whipped my head around, causing him to nearly choke laughing. “NO WAY—! ARE YOU CRUSHING ON—?”

“BE QUIET! “I squealed. I jumped toward him and put him in a headlock while using my other hand to cover his mouth as I muffled his obnoxious laughter.

“Dude, shut up! It’s not that big of a deal—” Tubbo broke out of my grasp, sitting up and staring at me.

“Alright, so if it’s not that big of a deaaaal—” without a second to spare, he raced off of the couch and darted towards Wilbur, becoming a near foggy vision under the LED lights. My heart skipped a beat as I desperately stumbled after him. I burst through the dancing crowd, nearly slipping because of the sleek tile floor.

“TUBBO YOU BITCH!” I screamed. But it was too late. By the time I yanked the boy by the shoulder, he was already grinning sinisterly at the sight of Wilbur’s flustered expression. I pushed Tubbo aside, now putting me in the position where I was right in front of the man.

“Uh…” I croaked out. A part of me wanted to just crawl into a hole and die at this point.

Wilbur chuckled, leaning his head against the pillar while smiling down at me.

“Hey there. So uh.. What was Tubbo talking about..?” he asked, slightly side eyeing Tubbo, who was losing his shit laughing while clutching Fit.

“D-don't mind him! He was just kidding haha!” I tried to nervously laugh it off, but under the dancing lights I was a heated red mess. I glanced behind him, realizing there were spare cups and glasses of alcohol. Without thinking, I moved past him and swiftly poured my own shot before frantically gulping it down.

The alcohol burned my throat, but luckily it was quick to loosen me up. I whipped my head back to Wilbur, who had a mixed expression of shocked amusement.

“Wanna dance?” I quickly offered, holding out my hand. I knew I wasn’t thinking this true, but what else could I say to break the ice?

“I.. Uh.. sure..—?! Ah—!” without letting him get another word out, I grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor while occasionally bumping into the large groups of people. Some even took a double take at the sight of me dragging Wil.

Holy shit, this is so embarrassing. I thought. But I was far too gone to pull away. I turned around to face him now, bobbing a little bit to the music. He looked down at me, and with the red to his cheeks and the blue light shining down on him, his face was a sweet purple. The sight tugged at my heartstrings, and I felt my knees going weak.

If anything, I needed another shot. I turned to Tubbo, who was watching us with Jaiden and Fit. With my hand, I held up my thumb and pinky and held it close to my lips, indicating that I needed a drink. I watched as Tubbo ran off, leaving Fit and Jaiden confused. Chuckling a little bit, I turned back around to look at Wilbur.

He was sort of bobbing around, moving to the beat of the music. It was obvious that both of us weren’t completely feeling it, but all I needed was one shot and maybe I could help him start feeling the vibe. I watched as his lanky arms swayed from side to side.

I smiled a little. “Not much of a dancer?” I asked. Bashfully, he shook his head no. As if on queue, Tubbo ran up behind me, shoving a plastic cup into my grasp. Turning away from Wilbur, I brought the brim to my lips and chugged down the rugged taste. The alcohol rushed through my throat and into my nerves like poison, but I was back into the game. I shoved the cup back into Tubbo’s grasp and whispered him a quick thank you.

As if on instinct, my hands were on Wilbur’s hips, making him yelp in surprise. I picked up our pace, swaying to the beat of the music. Wil fumbled a little, not sure what to do besides move his torso with my consistent guidance. I decided to help him out, and as our hips grooved, I moved his hands onto my hips and rested my hands on his shoulders.

“Come on, you got this.” I smirked. A spark of boldness flamed in my chest, and the look on Wilbur’s face was my gasoline. He took one of my arms and backed away a bit to twirl me in place before holding my waist with his forearm, dipping me down so that my hair touched the glowing floor.

“I-I don’t even know your name!” He chuckled.

“Well..—” He pulled me back up, but I still remained close to his face. “Call me (y/n).”

We continued to dance to the music with our bodies intertwined. His leg was in between my legs. My arm was wrapped around his neck. His hand was on my hip. Our other hands were intertwined. It felt dangerous to be so close to stranger like this, but shit, did it feel right. For all hell, he could’ve been a mass murderer and I’m his next prey.. Although.. Looking into those eyes, I’m no better than a mouse falling for cheese on a trap.

“So how’d you meet Quackity?” He asked.

“Oh, we go way back to when we went to college together. He was a busy ass kid, but we bonded through those late night cramming sessions.” I chuckled. “How about you?”

“Ah, we used to do similar content like years ago on Youtube, then we got put into the same minecraft server, bonded outside of the server, and the rest is history.” He smiled. “It’s crazy seeing how far he’s come though— Y’know, creating a whole server full of people from all over the world and all.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy.” I laughed. “How about you? Heard you were a whole rockstar.”

“Pfff— rockstar?” He scoffed. “Don’t boost my ego now.”

“Oh, come on! You’re hardly on the server. It’s really the only explanation you have.”

“Well, yeah, I guess so—”

“Hey lovebirds!” Tubbo butted his head between me and Wilbur. “Are you guys having fun getting to know each other?” He chirped. He clasped his hands together and brought them near his cheek, giggling at the sight of us together.

I pulled away from Wilbur before playfully shoving Tubbo away. “Shut up!” I exclaimed. He only cackled in response before disappearing into the crowd yet again. Before I could chase after him, I felt a pair of hands grip the sides of my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

“Come on, it’s not his fault.” Wilbur whispered in my ear, the alcohol near apparent in his voice. It took Tubbo’s outburst to make me realize we were wasted and dancing the night away with Wil equally as drunk as me. I tilted my head up and sighed, taking comfort in his wobblily smile.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah? I saw there’s a gas station near by. We can get a couple snacks and walk around the city.” I reached up, cupping his face with one of my hands.

“Hm, sounds like a plan to me.” Wilbur smiled back.

Though we spent the rest of the night with him drunkenly talking about any random historical fact his mind came up with, or the outrageous stories he had while on tour, tonight it really did found like I found someone like no other. Someone who knows how to dance with me without even knowing my name. Someone I would confide in telling my life story to. Someone I could maybe, just maybe, fall in love with.

So, did I thank a hangover 19 year boy the next morning afterward? Yes, yes I did.

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a / n ~ hope yall enjoyeddd :D reblogs, replies, notes of all kind super duper appreciated YIPPIEE

[pileofmush]

the sun still rises ☼ ii.

pairing ➸ monkey d. luffy x fem!reader

details ➸ tags: pt. ii, hurt/comfort, introspection // wc: 1.4k // series m.list

The sand burns. 

Not literally, no. It’s not hot to the touch. It couldn’t be, after such a dreary maelstrom as last night’s. But it digs into your knees. It itches. Makes you want to peel off the top layer of your skin just to scratch the bone. 

Your fingers curve around a useless excuse for a chest. You thought you had lost it in the wreckage of your cruddy little boat, only to find it had washed ashore. It’s a miracle, you suppose, but a pointless one. The iron lock you splurged on only a few days ago is unlatched: rusted and broken. None of your belongings remain inside except for a busted log pose. Nothing else—your berri, your tools, your clothing, your journals, your mother’s hairpin—all gone. And all you can think about are the fucking grains of sand pinching your skin.  

It burns. Like the burning in your lungs, as you suffocate alone underneath the swell of the sea. It burns, it burns, it burns, it—

“Tuna.”

There’s a hand on your shoulder. It startles you. You turn; follow the length of the arm to find it attached to the body of Monkey D. Luffy. You don’t know when he approached you. You don’t know how long he’s sat there, watching you stare at your dumb piece of shit chest. 

“What’re ya staring at it for? It’s empty.”

The accusation washes over you like a tidal wave. Threatens to pull you under. 

You don’t know how to respond. How do you explain the quiet devastation this wooden box has put you through? You had your whole life in here at one point. Everything important to you, condensed neatly in one mid-sized treasure chest. And now it’s empty. Now, you have nothing.

“My name’s not Tuna,” you say. Because it’s not—it never was.

The boy retrieves his hand to rest it atop his straw hat, draping a shadow over his face. “You sure?” The boy questions. Something flickers in his eyes that you can’t quite discern through the veil of darkness. It almost… burns. Like the sand. “What is it, then?”

“Yuna,” you reply. Because it is—always has been.

Luffy tilts his head, as if scrutinizing you. He digs a finger in his ear, pulls it out, and scrutinizes that, too. “You didn’t answer my other question. Answer it.”

He’s a little rude, you think to yourself. Demanding things from you when he can’t even bother to get your name right. 

Still, you sigh. You wouldn’t comply so easily under normal circumstances. You don’t make it a habit of obeying the boys you encounter in the waters of a strange island, strange ocean, stranger world. But there’s something in the air, you think. Charged, like the air before a strike of lightning—perhaps the remnants of last night’s storm.

“I’m looking for something,” you admit.

He perks up. “For what?”

Everything. “A reason.” 

“A reason.”

“Mhm.”

“To do what, live?” He asks, setting his hat down in the sand. You tense. He’s a lot sharper than you realized. “You don’t need a reason," he says. "Just do what you want.”

You sputter. “That’s not—Forget what I said. It’s just that—I can feel everything and nothing at the same time, and I… I’m having a mental breakdown, I think.”

A pause.

The pirate scratches his chin. “Oh. Maybe don’t, then.”

Something about his offhand tone startles a chuckle out of you. Luffy peers at you, coal eyes harsh, studying, before his eyes droop in satisfaction, something coy tugging at his lips. 

Another chuckle slips out that blooms into a full-bellied laugh, and then he’s snickering too, and then you’re gripping the sand in an attempt to stay upright because your sides are in stitches, and your cheeks hurt like a bitch, and he’s here and good and free. By the time you calm down, Luffy’s splayed out in the sand, arms pillowing his head, and he’s looking up at you. There’s a gentle hint of curiosity behind his smile, and it warms you and sends something buoyant shooting through your limbs: from your chest to the very tips of your toes. 

Maybe don’t, then. It’s possibly the worst advice you’ve ever heard. Possibly the best.��

“I made you laugh, didn’t I?” The pirate asks.

You freeze.

“I guess you did, yeah.” 

It’s the acknowledgment that reels you back in. Your belongings are gone. Your mother is gone. And you laughed. How? How could you laugh, when you have nothing to your name? How could you laugh, when you have no one to call your own?  

The confirmation makes Luffy’s grin grow wider. “Good,” he says. And he is so wild, and assured, and strange. “I thought you forgot how to.” 

It burns, you realize. His attention. 

For Monkey D. Luffy gets what he wants. If he wants you to laugh, to prove that you can do so, you will. You wonder what he wants out of this conversation. What he wants out of you. What can you give? What will he take?

Maybe he’ll take everything.  

Maybe he’ll want nothing,

Your eyes flicker to the sea. A waxing moon hangs over the horizon. She glimmers, translucent and transient in her waters, ebbing and flowing, flowing and ebbing. Beneath her, a ship with a lion head bobs against the coast. 

The night is still. Hushed.

You look at your hands. There's sand on your palms.

“What are you doing out here?” You change the subject, still watching the tide. A few hours ago you were drowning in the very same sea. Now you sit with the boy who saved you, safe and dry, with rocks clinging to your skin.

“What’re you?” Luffy challenges.

A gust of wind ruffles the trees, your clothing. It tastes of salt, when you open your mouth to speak. “Wallowing,” you confess. For some reason, you cannot lie to this strange, persistent boy. Maybe it’s due to the fact that you owe him. For it’s he who pulled you out of the water. It’s he who dragged you from the maw of death. 

“You shouldn’t be,” he says. 

“And who are you to judge?” You turn to face him and find his eyes transfixed on you.

He shrugs. “I’m Luffy, and ’m not judging ya. I’m just sayin’.” 

“Saying what, exactly?” You ask, voice hushed like the night; desperate like the tide. 

Luffy’s sitting up now, rolling a seashell around his fingers. Your attention is drawn to his neck, where the apple in his throat bobs, and it takes you a second to steer your gaze back to his. 

His eyes burn. Bright, even in the dark. “That sitting here alone, moping around is a waste.”  

A pause.

“I’m not alone,” you point out. 

“Yeah,” he nods. “Not anymore.”

☼

It burns.

You dig your feet into the sand—feel teeny tiny rocks sift through the gaps between your toes. You wonder if Luffy has ever felt doubt. Wonder if he’s ever felt fear. 

For fear has not yet unlatched its brutal grip on your heart. It creeps along the fraying edges of your mind. It cups its hands against your ear and whispers sweet nothings. The fact is, Fear murmurs, this won’t last long. Monkey D. Luffy has always been able to do what he wants, when he wants, just because he can. He doesn’t need the contents of a wooden box to tell him who he is. He has no room for doubt. 

You are not the same.

So why is he here, taking the time out of his night to admonish you? What does he hope to gain? What does he hope to take?

“I wanna hear you laugh again,” Luffy taps your wrist, pulling you out of your spiral. “Get ready for my joke!” And it’s not a request, it’s a command. And, like you’ve been doing all night, you acquiesce. He shoots you a boyish smile for your assent, and your next inhale is shaky. 

There’s a voice in your head advising you to be cautious, however. For embers glow in Luffy’s round, coal eyes. And if you’re not careful, the voice warns, your savior may burn you from the inside out.

if you made it this far, ily.

[ampheenix]

If we stayed connected, would I be forced to change?

TAGS: mizuena, getting together, flirting, texting, fluff and angst, 5k

SUMMARY:

Wait a second. Ena froze.

There was… there was no way she had accidentally posted that sketch of Mizuki on her social media account, was there? That was insane, she would never make such a stupid mistake, so matter how sleep-addled her brain was.

Please let it be posted to the art account, please let it be posted to the art account, Ena begged to herself. That she could deal with - hardly anyone would see it anyway, she thought bitterly.

Terrified thoughts roaring in her mind, she opened the app, frantically wishing that her internet would load faster, fuck!

And then… it loaded… and Ena sat there, aghast.

---

Or, Ena accidentally uploads an incredibly detailed sketch of Mizuki to her public social media, instead of the Nightcord server.

…and it’s not nearly as disastrous as she’d expected.

Mizuki had been acting… different, lately.

Ena chewed on the end of her pencil, brows furrowed in suspicion.

She had always been the teasing type, but she seemed to have upped the ante as of late. A little wink here, a little smirk there, just a touch more flirty than the usual. And especially with Ena.

The most irritating thing about it was that no one in Nightcord had even noticed the subtle changes in her behaviour – or if they had, they hadn’t said anything, which was even worse!

Maybe she was just being paranoid, or overthinking it… but agh, it was so obvious!! Why wasn’t anyone pointing it out, raising an eyebrow, anything?!

Hell, the other day… all of them were in voice chat and in response to Ena making a comment about how tired her hands were from sketching, and how she wished they would cramp up less, Mizuki had been all “and here I thought you were good with your hands!”

That playful tone, commented with a flirty wink as she rested her chin on her hand, had made Ena’s mouth drop open immediately.

Then, after a brief factory reset, she had complained with a hint of pink in her cheeks, being all “ha ha, very funny!! My hands are actually so sore, the least you could do is appreciate my efforts… and at least I’m meeting my deadlines, unlike you!”

And sure, Mizuki said stuff like that all the time, but – argh!

Ena buried her head in her hands, flushing madly. It was different now, for some reason!! And she just couldn’t put her finger on why exactly!

Well, whatever, Ena huffed to herself.

There was no use thinking so hard about it, and stress was bad for the skin, so unless she wanted to break out she needed her thoughts to shut up.

With a tired sigh, Ena ran a hand through her hair, mussing up the silky brown strands. She attempted to turn her train of thought back to the drawing she was supposed to be working on.

Right, so she had a basic head-and-torso draft here… But, hmmm, maybe she could try using this perspective instead, to highlight the silhouette and make it stand out more…

She erased guidelines and pencilled in soft features, bright eyes and a head tilted just so, a hand raised in the beginnings of a wave, fingers delicately posed.

Ena lost herself in the sketch, pencil strokes filling the page. Absent mindedly, she added a touch of lace there on the skirt, soft lips raised in a hint of a smile, long legs, a cute bow and long-lashed eyes…

A black fineliner captured the details, the way light pink strands cascaded in a ponytail over her shoulder, creamy skin and soft cheekbones, a freckle on her elbow and chipped nail polish on her ring finger…

Before she knew it, the birds outside her window were singing, the sky was starting to lighten outside, and the subject of her thoughts was staring out at her from the page.

Ena nibbled on her lip, frustrated now. Well… at the very least, it had turned out an excellent piece. Considering she saw Mizuki so often, it wasn’t a surprise Ena had captured her essence so perfectly.

Maybe… Eugh, it would no doubt be embarrassing, but it really was such a great sketch…

Before Ena could think too hard about it (her spur-of-the-moment decision likely influenced by the bags under her eyes and lack of sleep in her brain) she was pulling up the camera app on her phone and snapping a photo.

Within a moment, it was uploaded to the Nightcord server.

“Practice sketch!” Ena hurriedly typed after. She couldn’t let Mizuki get a big head, after all. She had just happened to draw her by mistake, it’s not like she had put a lot of effort in or anything!

And with those comforting lies, Ena was out for the count – she hadn’t had caffeine at all in the past six hours, it was a wonder she’d lasted so long really… and she could already feel her eyes starting to droop.

Stretching her arms back and letting out a huge yawn, she stumbled into her bed, barely managing to yank the covers over her head before plummeting into dreamland.

When she awoke, hours later, it was to the sound of loud dinging.

Head still heavy on the pillow and eyes sealed shut with exhaustion, Ena raised an arm and slapped the snooze button on her clock – so sue her, she wanted some more sleep after an all-nighter.

But for some reason, the dinging didn’t stop. Already irritated, Ena managed to sit up in her bed, rubbing at her sandy eyes. God, why wouldn’t it shut up? She was so tired, shit… maybe this was her karma for her terrible sleep schedule…

Blinking bleary eyes, Ena’s vision slowly came into focus, enough for her to recognize her phone vibrating on her desk. She didn’t remember setting an alarm on there… was someone calling her?

Suddenly, Ena felt wide awake, shoving back her covers as she jumped to her feet. Because that dinging… that was her social media notification tone, wasn’t it?

Oh god… was Mizuki annoyed that she had tried drawing her? Did they all hate her sketch or something? Ena didn’t think she’d said anything weird, all she’d done was send the image on the group chat.

Ena grabbed her phone and collapsed into her desk chair, sinking into the soft cushions  with a sense of dread as it unlocked. Huh, it was noon already? Wait- wait a minute, 99+ notifications on her home screen, what the hell?!

All of them read the same way, pretty much. So-and-so liked and commented on her post, which would be fine, except she hadn’t posted on her social media last night.

Wait a second.

Ena’s mind froze, going into overdrive.

There was… there was no way she had accidentally posted that sketch of Mizuki on her social media account, was there? That was insane, out of the damn question, she would never make such a stupid mistake no matter how sleep-addled her brain was!

Please let it be posted to the art account, please let it be posted to the art account, Ena begged to herself. That she could deal with - hardly anyone would see it anyway, she thought bitterly.

Terrified thoughts roaring in her mind, she opened the app, frantically wishing that her internet would load faster, dammit!

And then… it loaded… and Ena sat there, aghast.

Because of all the horrible nightmare scenarios that had been rocketing around her mind, this- this hadn’t even been on the list, it made no sense, it- what the fuck???

Because yeah, she had accidentally uploaded her art on her social media, the one that actually had followers, the one where she posted cute selfies of herself.

Which ordinarily, would be the most humiliating experience ever, as it would probably get like fifty likes and one or two nice comments made out of pity, and Ena would never live it down.

But… her art of Mizuki, which she had posted on her public social media…

It had gone viral. Insanely viral. A level of viral that none of her selfies, although popular, had ever reached.

A shaky, disbelieving smile started to spread across Ena’s face as she read the comment section, filled with praise to the point where it was ridiculous. People… people loved all the small details in her drawing, the care taken with each line, the small additions of colour that really brought life to the sketch…

They’d noticed how much effort she’d put into making Mizuki feel real. In not drawing her as some generic airbrushed cute girl, but depicting her as a living, breathing person.

Ena could hardly believe it. She scrolled and scrolled through the comments, looking for one backhanded compliment, one negative remark, literally anything.

Sure, there were a handful of toxic comments as per usual, but the amount of people responding to those comments and arguing with them, calling them out on their bullshit and cutting them down….

With a jolt, Ena realized tears were prickling in her eyes. She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve and hardly able to believe any of it, smile bright enough to light up the sky, because-

Her dad had been wrong. So, so wrong.

And she’d finally proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt, or so it felt like it. People LOVED her art, they really did! This was proof!

There was just one thing niggling at the back of Ena’s mind, as although all these strangers adoring her art and heaping praise upon it was the best feeling in the world…

Well, there were three people’s opinions that she valued more than any stranger’s.

A lump of anxiety in the back of her throat (but a small, unshakeable smile still on her face despite it), she exited the app and opened up Nightcord.

There were 3 unread messages in their group chat, and… 1 DM from Mizuki.

Steeling herself, Ena opened the group chat first.

10:09 AM

K: @enanan, your drawing of mizuki seems to have really taken off! I’m glad :)

10:32 AM

Yuki: It’s a good sketch. Better than her usual art. I’m not surprised.

10:35 AM

K: I wonder why it was posted at 5am though? perhaps she stayed up all night

K: if you did, hope you’re having a good sleep, ena

K: you deserve it after your hard work

Ena initially felt her smile brighten from Kanade’s kind words – supportive, as always. As she read, her lips twisted at Mafuyu’s backhanded compliment, but oh well… that was practically a standing ovation, coming from her.

Ena typed back a quick appreciative response, not letting Yuki’s snide words slide but still appreciating the compliment overall.

 And then… Mizuki.

Her finger hovered over the chat button, paralysed by indecision. She almost.. didn’t want to know what her best friend thought of her sketch. Everyone else loved it, but- well, what if Mizuki hated it?

What if she was irritated that Ena hadn’t asked first before drawing her, or was annoyed that she hadn’t gotten it quite right? Or angry that she had posted it publicly without asking??

Lost in a turmoil of negative thoughts, Ena didn’t notice her finger accidentally touching the screen and opening the chat. She jolted with surprise, eyes immediately darting to read the screen.

5:32 AM

Amia: :)

Wh- what the hell is that supposed to mean?!?!

All anxiety immediately left Ena’s mind, scowling as she typed back a response.

1:13 PM

Enanan: What the hell is that supposed to mean ?! (╬▔皿▔)╯

Just say u love my drawing or say u hate it like a normal person u weirdo

Minutes passed without a response, despite Amia’s status remaining stubbornly bright green and online. What gives?

Ena felt indecision return to her thoughts.

Maybe… shit, she really should have asked first!!

1:20 PM

Enanan: btw sorry I didn’t ask u first or anything, I actually didn’t mean to post it

I was so sleep deprived I accidentally did that instead of sending it to the gc lmao

Ena fidgeted as she sat back in her chair, glancing to where the sketch sat on her desk. It looked the same as it had last night, still maybe one of the best pieces she’d drawn… well, if Mizuki didn’t like it, that was her loss!

Ena huffed to herself, folding her arms. It really didn’t matter that much, it was just a drawing. Maybe she should just go back to sleep, or something���

Then, she heard her phone ding with the Nightcord notification tone, and she instantly grabbed her phone, nearly throttling it in her hands as she willed it to unlocked faster.

1:25 PM

Amia: oh

that makes sense, u would never post ur art to ur selfie acc on purpose

Ena hesitated before responding.

Something felt… off, for some reason.

Mizuki wasn’t using emojis, and maybe it was just the lack of tone indicators but – it felt like she was upset about something.

1:26 PM

Enanan:

well duh!! (ノ｀Д)ノ

still so shocked it blew up like that tho

guess ppl loved the way I drew u lol

Ena typed that last sentence with a sense of boldness, wondering if Mizuki would pick up what she was putting down.

That she had tried really, really hard to capture Mizuki in her element, and that the main reason people loved it was that she had succeeded.

Anyway, she had absolutely no clue what Mizuki was seemingly upset about… hopefully it wasn’t because of her.

1:28 PM

Amia: mmm

congrats on that, ur art’s finally getting loads of attention even tho it was on accident haha

Ena frowned. Okay, now she was sure something was wrong.

1:29 PM

Enanan: hey are u allg?

I might just be overthinking but u sound upset

R u jealous now that I’m famous ♪(´▽｀)

1:30 PM

Amia: you WISH

Just u wait one of my edits is gonna become “that one edit” on tiktok any day now

( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Ena let out a sigh of relief. Okay, phew, maybe Mizuki was just tired or something, or maybe she had been overthinking this entire time.

1:31 PM

Amia: and btw dw, I’m fine

was just surprised ig

1:31 PM

Enanan: surprised at what?

With a shock, Ena realizes something, scrolling up their messages.

Mizuki’s odd tone started after… after Ena had told her posting the drawing publicly had been an accident.

Was she disappointed? Shit, Ena hadn’t meant to like, imply something about her appearance or anything like that, Mizuki was stunning both in-person and within the drawing and she knew it.

…Right?

1:31 PM

Amia: doesn’t matter

ur art rocks

it’s about time ppl noticed :3

Ena didn’t want to assume… maybe she hadn’t even said anything wrong.

Mizuki seemed fine now, so she shouldn’t push it.

1:32 PM

Enanan: since when r u this supportive

ur always saying my art would be nothing w/out ur editing skills (* ￣︿￣)

1:33 PM

Amia: and it would be

the sketch u posted today didn’t need any editing tho

srsly it’s actually so good ^0^

even yuki thought so, that’s how yk it’s genuine lmao

Ena smiled with pride, cheeks flushing. So Mizuki had liked her sketch after all… well, of course she did. Mizuki always liked her art – although she made fun of it too much for Ena’s liking.

1:35 PM

Enanan: stop ur being too nice its weirding me out

ur right abt the yuki part thoo (*￣▽￣*)ブ

and anyways idk what ur on abt, my art is always better w ur editing

yin and yang or whatever

1:36 PM

Amia: look who’s being weirdly nice NOW

1:36 PM

Enanan: TRAITOR

YOU TRICKED ME

u always make me say the stupidest things w/out realizing omfg

1:36 PM

Amia: o(*°▽°*)o

all part of the charm

Ena let out a light laugh as she rolled her eyes, resting her head on her hand.

1:37 PM

Enanan: please, what charm

You’re about as charming as a stink bug (¬_¬ )

1:38 PM

Amia: ur so cruel enaaaaa

can’t believe I’m friends w you（︶^︶）

I gotta say tho, I’m surprised how many details u got right on ur sketch

I mean u even got the freckle on my elbow (=•ω＜=)ρ⌒☆

Ena paused, feeling her cheeks redden. Well that was embarrassing, Mizuki had noticed? Jeez, it wasn’t like it was on purpose…

1:40 PM

Enanan: well what were u expecting, I’m an artist

It’s my job to notice those thingsss

1:41

Amia: sure but like wow, to that extent? surpassed my expectations enanan, didn’t know u were so observant ~(￣▽￣)~*

u even drew my fave ribbon with the fraying on the side, and the exact shade of nail polish I wear ~ impressive!

Ena buried her head in her hands, EXTREMELY regretting the level of detail she’d put into the sketch. Mizuki would never let it go now, ugh… this was humiliating…

1:43 PM

Enanan: keep talking that way and I won’t be sketching u again anytime soon

o(一︿一+)o

1:44 PM

Amia: awww am I embarrassing u

it’s not MY fault u drew me so well

then again the source material  was gorgeous already so it’s not like it could’ve turned out bad in the first place <3

Ena let out a heavy sigh… Mizuki was kind of right, in a way. She was stunning, after all, it’d have been difficult to mess up a drawing with her as the subject.

1:45 PM

Enanan: should’ve known you’d get a big ego from this…

1:45 PM

Amia: you didn’t deny it

:3

1:46 PM

Enanan: …

Stfu ￣へ￣

1:46 PM

Amia: HAHAHA I KNEW IT (≧∇≦)

Ena bit her lip, considering. A small, teasing smile started to creep across her face.

1:46 PM

Enanan: I don’t get why ur surprised honestly

 Ur literally gorgeous

1:49 PM

Amia: ur being sarcastic aren’t u… ur so cruel enanan ~(>_<。)＼

Ena frowned.

1:49 PM

Enanan: no I’m not u dummy

Ur cute and u own it, idk why ur always trying to get me to admit that

1:50 PM

Amia: oh stop being silly, ik ur not being srs

There’s no need to be so mean ( ˘︹˘ )

Ena’s frown deepened. What? Ugh, since when was Mizuki so bad at just taking the compliment?

Then again, it was true that Ena rarely, if ever, complimented her… well, she didn’t state it aloud, anyway. Mizuki always knew what she meant whenever she was being stubborn about admitting something, so there never any need to say the praise out loud.

Had she really never outright given Mizuki praise before? Ena’s brows furrowed.

This was embarrassing, but… she should keep pushing, otherwise she’d feel like a bad friend.

1:51 PM

Enanan: jeez, ur so bad at taking a compliment

my sketch reflected how pretty u are u dummy, I didn’t put so much effort into it just for u to refuse to admit ur cute all of a sudden

Ena waited for a response, feeling her cheeks warm. Why was Mizuki taking so long to respond?

The three dots indicating her friend typing appeared at the beginning of the screen for a few seconds, and then vanished.

Ena raised an eyebrow.

The three dots appeared once more, then… gone.

After what felt like ages, a new message finally popped up.

1:59 PM

Amia: well obviously I know I’m cute, but it took me off guard to hear you say it yourself, enanan (〜￣▽￣)〜 so bold!

2:00 PM

Enanan: idk I just realized I’d never actually told u upfront and I felt like an asshole

jeez, don’t tell me ur getting an even bigger head now…

2:01 PM

Amia: aha, so that’s it! I was wondering why you were being so honest, it’s unlike you

And how can I not get a big head when I’m told how pretty I am by my dear Enanan? ~

O(*￣▽￣*)o

2:01 PM

Enanan: I’m always honest, screw you!!

Ena felt heat spread across her face despite her annoyance, smiling like an idiot. What was all this about “dear Enanan?” Mizuki was so embarrassing, god.

Not seeing her friend typing, she swiped off the app, going to check her social media again.

Ena’s eyes promptly bugged out of her head. IT HAD DOUBLED IN LIKES?! This was insane… at this rate, she wouldn’t be surprised if her friends from her old art class stumbled across it.

She swiped back to her chat with Mizuki, typing out a message.

2:04 PM

Enanan: good god, did u see my social media

It’s blowing up now even more than before

maybe I should draw u more often lmao

2:05 PM

Amia: I did see it, it’s only natural it should blow up so much when I’m the subject :3

as they say in the west, u should draw me like one of ur french girls enanan – bet that would get loads of likes too ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Almost instantaneously, heat blossomed across Ena’s cheeks, and she buried her head in her hands for what felt like the third time in the last fifteen minutes. Mizuki, damn it – how was she not embarrassed, making jokes like that?!

2:07 PM

Enanan: you are incorrigible

2:07 PM

Amia: I don’t know the meaning of the word >:)

Ena let out a laugh, tapping away on her phone.

2:08 PM

Enanan: anyway, last time I checked if I drew you like “one of my french girls” I’d get banned u idiot

2:08 PM

Amia: oh, so if that wasn’t a problem, you’d do it then?

2:10 PM

Enanan: I’m not even going to respond to that

ur the worst

I never see u teasing K or yuki like that (* ￣︿￣)

There was a suspicious silence for a few minutes, while Ena slowly realized something.

Why was it only her that was the subject of Mizuki’s ruthless flirting?

2:15 PM

Amia: why, they’re nowhere near as fun to tease, enanan ♪(´▽｀)

And besides, if I tried flirting with yuki like that, I think I wouldn’t survive it – she’d give me a look so icy-cold I’d freeze 〒▽〒

Well, that made sense… but was that really all there was to it? Ena paused, hesitant.

2:16 PM

Enanan: guess that makes sense

I actually have no idea how kanade would react if u tried that on her

she might just stare at u silently

2:17 PM

Amia: I wouldn’t dare tease kanade like that, I have too much respect for her :3

2:18 PM

Enanan: don’t think I didn’t miss that implication…

what a shame, guess if u don’t respect me I won’t be able to draw u again

2:19 PM

Amia: NONO PLS IM SORRY

2:19 PM

Enanan: nope, too late

ur loss

2:19 PM

Amia: （；´д｀）ゞ

why have u forsaken me..

2:20 PM

Enanan: if u don’t want me to be mean, then don’t insult me to my face!! >:(

2:20 PM

Amia: I take it back… I respect you so, so much enanan, I am but a humble servant before her queen o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

2:20 PM

Enanan: that’s more like it

2:20 PM

Amia: all I can do is kneel before ur throne and kiss ur feet in apology (；′⌒`)

Ena grimaced.

2:21 PM

Enanan: ok ew no need to go that far

2:21 PM

Amia: well, perhaps in apology I could kiss somewhere else then (○｀ 3′○)

Almost instantaneously, heat spread like a rash across her cheeks. God, Ena didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

2:21 Pm

Enanan: I am actually going to scalp you

2:21 PM

Amia: …on the cheek, of course!

gosh, ur so dirty minded! :0

Flushing, Ena bit her lip in hesitation, before finally addressing the elephant in the room that only appeared to be visible to her.

2:22 PM

Enanan: okay seriously, what is it with the teasing?? (╬▔皿▔)╯

I swear ur doing it way more than u used to

and the others don’t even notice for some reason- literally why?!

2:22 PM

Amia: I already told u why! It’s fun :3

2:23 PM

Enanan: what, do u just love flustering me or smth?? Is that ur idea of fun ( ˘︹˘ )

For some reason, after that, Mizuki stopped responding for a while. Ena fully thought her friend had gone to eat lunch or something, and turned back to her sketch.

Then, after what felt like ages, her phone pinged.

2:59 PM

Amia: maybe

I mean, I didn’t realize u got so flustered purely by my silly teasing (╯▽╰ )

Fuck!!

Ena shoved her sketchbook to the side, grip tightening on her phone. Her cheeks felt hot all of a sudden, as she realized that Mizuki had no idea that her flirting had been having such an effect on her.

And now she knew just how flustered she’d been!! Ena grimaced- this was humiliating. She instantly went into damage control mode.

2:59 PM

Enanan: I don’t get that flustered, don’t flatter urself ( ˘︹˘ )

I get like… idk

The normal amount of flustered

whatever that is

Ena worried at her lip, anxiety making her throat feel tight. That response was fine, right? Mizuki wasn’t going to think she was weird, was she?

Her eyes didn’t stray from the three dots bouncing on the bottom of the screen, finally relenting when a message came through.

3:02 PM

Amia: real slick ena <3

ur not falling for me are u (=•ω＜=)ρ⌒☆

Mizuki had completely gotten the wrong idea, how embarrassing!! Jeez, there was no coming back from this one… Humiliated, Ena tried to swallow down the lump in her throat, and with a jolt, realized that tears were starting to well up in her eyes.

She was… she was a bit too invested. Why did she care so much about this? Why did she feel so damn anxious? It was embarrassing, but- but not that embarrassing.

Ena leaned back in her chair as she pushed her phone away, hands fisted tightly in her skirt. Her gaze was heavy as it rested on the floor. Her thoughts began to unravel like a ball of thread.

There was no way Mizuki’s joke just now was true, was there? Ena’s deathgrip on her skirt tightened. That was silly, there was just no way- like sure, she cared about her, Mizuki was her best friend after all, but falling for her? Pfft.

Plus, Ena wasn’t gay. She hadn’t really had any crushes on guys before, but that was normal, wasn’t it? She hadn’t liked any girls either, so it evened out.

She was straight, she always had been, jeez. Mizuki was just making some stupid joke.

So why was Ena… why was she close to tears? Her lip was nearly being worried to pieces, humiliation spreading in scarlet across her cheeks, and all the while her heart, it- it hurt.

She felt physical pain in her chest, along with a sense of despair. Ena let out a heavy sob, and then another one, breath starting to come faster.

She- god, she really did like Mizuki, didn’t she. She liked her best friend.

Which meant she was one of them, and that she was… hell, she was practically a pervert. Disgusting. She let out a choked cry, fingers digging into her arms.

They were such close friends, fuck, had Ena been creeping on her this entire time? She was- she was disgusting, sickening, and such an awful person- why was Mizuki even friends with her? She definitely wouldn’t be after this mess.

Mizuki was going to find out the truth, and then she was going to lose her. Slowly but surely, tears started to trickle down Ena’s cheeks, as her arms came up, cradling her head as she rocked back and forth.

What was she going to do?

In the midst of a breakdown, she barely heard the buzz of her phone. She scrabbled at her desk for it, grabbing it and pulling it to her chest as her eyes frantically scanned the screen.

3:15 PM

Amia: enaaaaa where did u go 💔

when I said falling I didn’t mean literally fall, did u lose consciousness lmao

Ena let out a strangled sound that was half-sob, half-laughter. She scrubbed at her tears with her sleeve, watching as her best friend continued to type.

3:16 PM

Amia: or is it true that u have fallen for me after all ~(￣▽￣)~*

wow maybe ur so in love that u fainted after seeing my message

well my dear enanan, just say the word and we can elope togetherヽ(￣ω￣(￣ω￣〃)ゝ

Maybe… maybe Mizuki wouldn’t be as disgusted as she’d thought. She’d always been open-minded, after all.

Ena’s nails dug into her skin, as she squeezed her eyes tight shut, trying to get the pain to distract her from her stupid, stupid thoughts. That was ridiculous, she had to play it safe. She couldn’t risk it.

How to respond, how to respond…

3:18 PM

Enanan:  please, I wouldn’t marry you even if u held a gun to my head

you’d probably try to make me do all the chores and spend all your time sewing

3:18 PM

Amia: I’m not hearing a no! (*￣▽￣*)

and wow, u wound me… if anything, you’d make me do all the work and spend ur time preening in front of a mirror like a peacock! :3

Ena let out a stunned snort, a watery smile returning to her face. Mizuki wasn’t wrong.

3:19 PM

Enanan: well, even if we eloped I doubt ur the romantic type

I’d probably divorce u within a week bc you’d love ur outfit mannequin more than me

￣へ￣

3:19 PM

Amia: lies and slander!!

I would be SO romantic

3:19 PM

Enanan: yeah right

3:19 PM

Amia: well, that’s rich coming from u considering I was able to fluster u with my teasing (★ ω ★)

3:20 PM

Enanan: that’s different

3:20 PM

Amia: how exactly? :3

Ena clenched her jaw, frustrated. God, why was Mizuki pushing this subject so much? Why couldn’t they just move on and forget all of that had ever happened?

3:20 PM

Enanan: it just is

Ur my best friend it makes sense that you’d tease me like that, even if it drives me insane(╬▔皿▔)╯

3:20 PM

Amia: enaaaaa ur so dense

I’m not teasing u like that just bc ur my best friend

( ˘︹˘ )

What was Mizuki on about now? Ena knew the teasing wasn’t because “she had funny reactions,” there were plenty of people Mizuki could tease if that was the case, so why her?

3:21 PM

Enanan: well then why

Just be honest u dunce >:(

3:21 PM

Amia: u want me to be honest?

idk if I can be :>

maybe first u should be honest about why my teasing flusters u so much

Slowly, Ena’s eyes widened, static filling her head. What the hell. What the actual hell was this. Did Mizuki know?

Had Mizuki known the whole time, even though Ena had only realized a few minutes ago?

With dawning realization, she scrolled back up and reread her friend’s messages, but this time in a different light.

Mizuki… Mizuki couldn’t be honest about why she was teasing her, just like how Ena couldn’t be honest about why the teasing had flustered her. Did that mean…?

She took the leap, fingers shaking slightly.

3:23 PM

Enanan: mizuki

be honest rn

yk I won’t judge u for anything

If Ena was right, the situation was very, very mixed. Because on one hand, they’d both like eachother… like that… and the sheer idea had vicious butterflies attacking her stomach.

But on the other, it would mean Ena liked girls.

And she- she didn’t really know what to think about that. Or even where to begin thinking about that.

There was silence from Mizuki for a while, as she waited with bated breath. It was the longest twenty minutes of Ena’s life.

Her heart jumped in her throat as she finally saw that her friend was typing. Come on, come on… she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this high-strung. Then the typing animation disappeared, and she slumped.

And after a twenty agonizing minutes that seemed to drag on for hours, she glared at her screen. Because Mizuki’s icon had changed to the little grey circle that indicated she was offline.

What the fuck?! Ena finally had the courage to make a move, hating herself all the while, and this was all she got?!

Fuming, she tossed her phone to the side, letting out a frustrated sound. She had given her the perfect opening! The stage was set, for god’s sake!

Maybe… shit, what if she’d misread the situation completely? Did Mizuki think she was weird? Was that why she was being ghosted?

Ena was sick of this. She needed to do something, anything, or she was going to lose it. Her eyes scanned her room, searching for a distraction.

Maybe she could try out a new makeup look? Try and style that pink skirt that was stubbornly refusing to pair with her other clothes? Or…

Her stomach grumbled, obnoxiously loudly, and she rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe should take care of her basic bodily functions first.

Everything else could wait.

And if Mizuki didn’t text back by nightfall, she was going to break into her stupidly pretty best friend’s house and force her at knifepoint to type out a response.

(This is chapter 1! Next and final chapter out soon <3)

[loudblonde]

Could I request anyone in the 141 with a non military/detective s/o who just finished a dangerous case. and like how they react to it idk 💀

thanks 👍💪

In honour of Sherlock Holmes becoming public domain, you dear Anon will get more than just one of the boys with a detective s/o. Male!Reader is vaguely if not outrightly stated to be a Holmes much like Sherlock Holmes, he is not BBC Sherlock.

Warnings: mentions of child porn, human trafficking, and torture. Canon typical violence.

Hurt/comfort and some fluff

All stories are under 500 words long, so they might just be drabbles.

Male reader,

~ Captain John Price ~

John Price was sitting in his office with the small radio turned on low, just filling out paperwork from work from his most recent mission with the team. It had been a success but he still had a ton of paperwork. John never quite paid much attention to the radio until a familiar name came up, (Y/N) Price. 

John abandoned all thoughts of paperwork as he turned the radio on. 

“-great news to announce that Detective (Y/N) Price has once again done the impossible after disappearing off the radar for two weeks, (Y/N) located and personally gathered information on a human trafficking ring, allegedly going undercover despite being a very well known man.” One of the hosts said. 

Price sucked in a deep breath and listened carefully, his mind filled with static as gore filled images of his husband getting brutally tortured and killed because he was discovered crossed his mind, Price knew the reality would be that, he knew that (Y/N) wouldn’t have made it out alive had it not been for his husbands sheer dumb fucking luck. 

“I know right, Kelley,” The other host said. “From what we know, Detective Price is a married man, he wears a gold wedding band, I sure wouldn’t wish to be married to someone who just disappears all of the sudden for weeks on end!” The hosts laughed together and John looked down in his hands.

They both had a tendency to disappear for work, rarely ever saw each other but when they did, between missions and cases, especially with (Y/N)’s freelance work, much like his older brother. 

Price reached over and grabbed his phone, dialing his husband's number. He placed the phone to his ear and listened as it dialed 3 times before it was picked up. “Hmmm, John it’s 3 in the night here.” His husband's groggy voice came through. 

Price smiled a bit as he turned the radio off. “I heard the news about your latest case.” 

(Y/N) chuckled, voice sounding rasped. “I wasn’t alone, despite what they say, my brother was with me and not Sher.” 

“Ah, so the oldest Holmes made it out of his fancy office to help, that is at least somewhat comforting.” He said. 

(Y/N) hummed for a moment. “It was scary, I won’t lie to you, I knew this kind of work was gonna take a lot but wow… I can’t imagine your mission being easy either.” 

“Hmm, no my mission wasn’t easy but we all made it through, minimal injuries and we recovered the intel.” Price said. “I have some saved up vacation time, why don’t we take a break, the both of us and go somewhere just the two of us?” 

(Y/N) smiled. “I would like that, just the two of us, it would be nice… I love you John, you know that, right?” 

John touched his necklace where the ring was. “I love you too, with all my heart.” 

< Simon “Ghost” Riley > 

Simon was sitting with the team watching some telly when the news came on, the picture of his husband looking stoic as ever came on as the reporter smiled. “Today the Brother Holmes were successful in taking down a child porno ring that extended as far into minor positions of our government. The brothers went undercover while posing as people who could give access to child porn, they worked closely with Scotland Yard in catching over 150 pedofiles in the UK alone. It has been reported that both their lives were at risk during it and that (Y/N) Holmes was almost killed several times during this investigation, though I am happy to tell you that any hospitalisation lasted less than 24 hours and that the young detective is not in any danger.” The reporter finished and ads started playing. 

Simon sat, staring blank at the screen, (Y/N) had mentioned a case that had been dangerous but he was never told his life had been in danger. Logically he knew that (Y/N) was a capable man who could not only keep up with his brothers and their crazy shit, but also knew his way around several fighting styles and weapons, Simon logically knew all that and still hearing his husband, one of few people who knew Simon’s face, who Simon trusted with all his life, had been in danger and almost killed… it made his blood boil. 

Simon stood up, spooking Soap who cursed after him, But Simon didn’t care, he couldn’t care, he was just making a beeline for his room and as soon as he got there he took out his phone and called one of few numbers even saved in it. Their house phone, a secure line.

“Holmes Residency, (Y/N) speaking.” A pained voice came out. 

“Are you okay?” Simon asked before anything else. 

“Ahhh, Simon, yes, just a few bruised ribs.” (Y/N) said and Simon could hear his smile. 

“He was also poisoned.” Came Mycroft ever so helpful. 

“And stabbed, twice, I have him on bedrest.” A much clearer Doctor Watson said. “Well, as much as you can keep a Holmes on bedrest.” 

Simon took a deep breath. “(Y/N)... you are single handedly going to make me go grey before Price.” He knew his comment would make (Y/N) chuckle. 

“I am fine Si and I love you too.” (Y/N) said as he chuckled. “I love you more than I could ever express to you…. I love you more then (favourite food/movie).” 

Simon smiled a bit. “I love you too… but be careful, I don’t want you getting killed… I can’t lose anymore people.” 

(Y/N)’s smile softened a bit. “Don’t worry Si, I won’t take a case until I am healed. Apparently there is a high reward for people who help out with catching criminals, who would have thought?” 

) John “Soap” McTavish (

John was sitting in the police room as (Y/N) finished up whatever he was doing. The mission had been too close to his own line of work for comfort. Laswell had gotten the 141 to bring out (Y/N) Holmes from a person who had kidnapped him. His own husband had been kidnapped and he didn’t even know. 

Sometimes John hated their line of work, it was cruel and left little contact with loved ones. 

“Relax Johnny.” Ghost said from beside him. Both still in full gear. “Nothing is gonna happen while we sit here.” 

John looked at Ghost and cracked a small smile. “Yeah I know, it’s just two weeks in a long time.” 

Ghost looked at him and slowly blinked. “Yes it is, but he is a Holmes, I thought that was a given or they were trained for that.” 

John shook his head. “No, no they aren’t, they are just civilians who everyone thinks are-” John stopped talking as (Y/N) stepped out of the room, looking worse for wear, but with a big smile on his face. 

John instantly stood and walked over, hugging (Y/N) close and a tad too tight. 

“John, my ribs.” (Y/N) groaned as he hugged back. 

“Oh right sorry.” John pulled away and took (Y/N)’s face in his hands. “Don’t ever do something like that again!” He said loudly. “I was worried sick when I heard you had been missing for 2 weeks!”

(Y/N)’s eyes softened. “I didn’t mean to get caught, but Sherlock managed to get away and get to safety, he ensured that I was kept alive.” 

John rested his forehead against (Y/N)’s. “Remind me to thank him when we see him.” John chuckled a bit, just happy to have his husband back in his arms. 

“Hmm, you can thank him at the wedding in 7 months. Him and Watson are finally tying the knot, I won the bet between everyone by the way.” (Y/N) said, smirking a bit. 

“I love you so much,” John said. 

[ Kyle “Gaz” Garrick ]

Kyle was just standing and talking with Soap as he saw his long time boyfriend (Y/N) walk up with a newspaper in hand. Kyle tilted his head slightly and stopped talking, causing Soap to turn and look at (Y/N). “Hey, why is a Holmes walking directly towards us? Is he even allowed on base?” Soap asked. 

Kyle shrugged. “He should be. Hey (Y/N)!” He called out as (Y/N) got closer. 

“Kyle!” (Y/N) said happily as he practically bounced over. “May I?” 

Kyle nodded and they hugged close. Kyle missed (Y/N) whenever he went away but he couldn’t exactly stop (Y/N) from taking on case after case, they paid far too well. 

(Y/N) showed Kyle the newspaper from that morning. “I just finished a case for the king of Sweden, didn't even know it was the Swedish king, he is very… eccentric but normal. He is just a person, it was nice.” 

“Soooo.” A certain Scottish man broke through their conversation. “How do you two know each other?” 

“(Y/N) meet Soap, Soap, this is my boyfriend, (Y/N) Holmes.” Kyle said. 

(Y/N) smiled brightly and shook Soap's hand. “I have heard a lot about you lot and the 141.” 

“Only good things I hope.” Soap said. 

“The best of things. Oh and Kyle, no reason to worry, a doctor that wasn’t my brother's close friend cleared me. I am not injured even though you will undoubtedly hear about a very large fall I had in tonight's news. I just wanted to tell you that before you hear it from someone that isn’t me.” He said. 

Kyle’s eyes widened. “(Y/N) you promised to be careful.” 

“I was… ish… okay maybe not as much as I should, but I was safe during the whole thing, no large injury or bed rest needed.” 

“No case for at least 3 days, please.” Kyle said. 

“... Okay, no case for a week. I love you, alright? I am always going to return home to you.” 

Kyle smiled at that. “Good. I love you too.”

[mdzs-is-rotting-my-brain]

Wangxian mermay 2023

Day IV: Shipwreck

The last thing Wei Ying expected to happen to him, was pinned to the floor of the shipwreck he’d been hired to evaluate by a man with gold eyes.

His hand, thick with…callouses, didn’t cut off airflow, but the implication was there. His other hand was large enough to pin both of Wei Ying’s hands to the floor.

Which was doing things for him.

Bad time to learn he had kink.

This is not the time to get aroused.

Wei Ying cleared his throat, and prayed his face wasn’t red.

“Um, hi. Did…I disturb you?”

What a thing to ask!

In Wei Ying’s field of environmental science he learned there were only a handful of people that willingly walked into ten-year-old oil tankers washed up during hurricanes.

The first group, his group, were the people hired to figure out what threat it posed to the environment.

The second group, dumb teenagers.

And the third group, people looking for a ghost story, or the curious.

This man, with his sharp angled features, beautiful golden eyes, and large hands, belonged to neither of those categories.

“I mean, yes. Clearly I did because people don’t tend to react violently when they’re expecting people to come wandering around the corner. And you’re not living here, you’re too pretty for that. Not that that’s a judgment on the houseless, anyone can be-”

“Quiet.”

Wei Ying snapped his mouth shut, frowning. The man’s voice trembled. He noticed both of his hands were shaking, his breaths were ragged and short.

“Oh shit, do you…need help?”

The man glared at him harder, his hand on Wei Ying’s throat twitched like he couldn’t decide to squeeze or release.

Wei Ying shut down the part of his brain that wanted him to squeeze just a bit harder.

“Close your eyes,”

Wei Ying obeyed, closing his eyes and going limp, trying to poise as little threat as possible. The hands fell away from him, as the weight moved off.

“Get out.” The voice came back, shaking and pained.

Wei Ying sat up, turning his head to the direction the voice came from, keeping his eyes firmly closed.

“You’re hurt.”

A snort, what sounded like a snake across the metal plates,

“You cannot help me.”

Wei Ying frowned, “You don’t know that. What’s wrong?”

“I cannot tell you. You cannot help me.”

Wei Ying took a breath, slowly breathing out. “I can’t just leave you here. Please…let me do something. Call someone you can-wait, no that won’t work Yuan-er broke my phone last week. Mianmian has a phone I can borrow.”

A long beat of silence followed that. Either the man had gone, or he was staring at Wei Ying, trying to figure out how he tied his shoes in the morning with a brain that moved that fast.

(He didn’t! He had velcro laces and boots so he didn’t have to worry about if he tied them or not)

“I…was going to see my brother. I do not have his number. There…is no one else.”

No one that beautiful should sound that heartbroken. Wei Ying wanted to hold his hand, to comfort him in some meaningful way.

“Then let me help…please.”

The tension this time was different, he knew the man was waffling, willing to give in, he could taste his anxiety and reluctance in the confined room.

“You…may open your eyes.”

It took a moment for them to adjust to the sunlight streaming through the broken plates of the tanker, scattered across the tossed cabin. Glinting off silver and white scales smeared with blood from a long fin impaled by three rebar.

“Shit.” Wei Ying scuttled over to the tail, he pressed down gently around the wounds, issuing an apology when a hiss of pain and a hand grabbed his elbow. “Fuck, fuck, this…this is bad. Ho-how long have you been like this?”

“Thirteen days.”

The man’s brow twitched forward, his mouth wasn’t unhappy, more…curious, his eyes darting between Wei Ying and his tail.

Right.

He probably should have had more of a reaction to a mermaid in the shipwreck (great name for a band) but as stated by friends and the few people that loosely considered him family, he was bad at faking being human.

An explanation would have to wait. The man was dehydrated, and had lost a considerable amount of blood, The tanker was upside down, so the high tide would have brought in water and fish, but still he needed fresh water, his first aid kit, and the atargatian from his jeep.

Turning he saw his gray and white bag on the floor, grabbing it he pulled out his lunch, and a bottle of human medication Wen Qing cleared for him to use.

He passed both over to the man, along with a sweater he kept because fuck these northern estimations and recoveries, they were always cold.

“I have to go back to my car and get some things. I have some atargatian that will help heal your wounds, but I’m going to have to get them out of you first. Are they welded to the floor? Do you know?”

The man blinked, a creamy cardigan with ink stains around the cuffs draped about bis shoulders, and his hands full of Wei Ying’s startlingly red lunch looked…adorable.

Wei Ying barely restrained himself from cooing aloud.

“No. I sought refuge from the storm in here, the waves drove them in when the ship washed on land.”

Wei Ying nodded, “Good, good, that’s very good. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He pulled his gloves back on so he could pull himself out of the wreck faster without worrying about cuts and scrapes and legged it up the beach to the parking lot.

With flirting and a lot of fluttering eyes he got Mianmian to text Wen Ning to pick Yuan-er up from pre-school, only promising to tell her the entire store later, She was a Koi Jin, she would understand.

He was out of breath when he got back, the mermaid had put the cardigan on and was staring at the food with the kind of determination a man before the gallows does.

“You don’t have to eat it.” Wei Ying turned over a metal box, using it as a makeshift table where he unloaded the three bottles of atargatian, handing one over, he got out the rest of the supplies.

“I..do not think that I can.” His voice was quiet, he peered at Wei Ying through his lashes, “I do not wish to be rude.”

“Dude. You’ve been pinned by rebar for thirteen days, and you let me go after just a few seconds of incredibly kinky restraint. You’ve been the perfect gentleman given the circumstances.”

He kneeled beside the rebar closest to him, this one was going to be the easiest to get out.

“I should really have asked Wen Qing to come out, but I forgot before I left if you would have been comfortable with someone else. She’s a Wen Taimen in case you were worried I’d call a human to help you out. What should I call you anyway?”

Wei Ying pressed a thick gauze pad to the top of the wound, grabbed the rebar.

“Wangji.” He said staring at Wei Ying,

“On three.” Wei Ying offered his elbow “You can hold on to if it you need too.”

He slid one hand around his elbow, fingers shaking slightly.

“Okay,” Fresh blood seeped out of the wound, “One, two-” He pulled up and out, covering the wound with the gauze before fumbling for the first bottle of atargatian, he popped the glass cork, dumping the dark blue brew into the wound.

He made quick work of the other two pieces of rebar before wrapping the bottom half of the tail with enough gauze to make Wen Qing have a coronary when she finds out how much was missing from his kit.

Wangji was breathing hard, his skin was pale and sweaty, his fingers were digging into Wei Wuxian’s arm so hard he knew he was going to have bruises the next day.

“Okay.” Wei Ying moved to his side, holding up his hands, after he pulled the gloves off, “Do you want me to touch you?”

Wangji nodded once, a tight, controlled action.

Wei Ying took one of Wangji’s hands, placing it on his own chest, over his heart where Wangji could feel his heart through the thin t-shirt.

“Breath with me. In and out with me. Good, good, that’s very good. Slowly.” He took deep breaths, letting them out slowly.

“You did good. Such a good job. I know it hurts right now. I’m sorry. You’re doing gre-”

Wangji buried his head in Wei Ying’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around Wei Ying’s waist, hands gripping his shirt so hard he might have felt a few stitches pop.

Wei Ying settled down beside him. Stroking his hair and back, rubbing his arms. He hummed softly, like he did when Yuan-er had bad dreams, something soothing from Wen-popo to help soothe him.

Cold water slapped him in the face.

Sputtering Wei Ying jerk up, blinking at the rapidly encroaching water and the dusty sunset.

He scrambled backwards, looking around. The mermaid was gone, along with the empty atargatian bottles, his lunch, and sweater.

No surprise really, he hadn’t expected for an injured mermaid to stick around. Being injured was bad enough, having to rely on someone who may or may not have been human, especially given their track record was worse. Wei Ying could have brought Wangji to his family, washed his tail, and adorned him with pearls while kneeling and it wouldn't have mattered. Acts of service did not trust make.

Gathering his things, he gave the slowly encroaching ocean one more look before making his way out of the ship.

He thought that was the end of it.

He really did.

He helped someone out that needed it and went on with his life. Told Wen Qing of the events before she discovered the missing gauze and atargatian before she could, and got replacements a week later and a lecture about falling asleep with a stranger.

Which, he deserved.

Until today.

“Have you…done anything recently?” Mianmian had asked an hour ago, perching against his desk.

Wei Ying looked up from his oil tanker report draft,

“Not…that I’m aware of. Why?”

“Lan Xichan called, he wants to see you at the corporate office in Gusu.”

Wei Ying stared at her for a minute longer before looking at the clock on his computer, “It’s nearly midday, Gusu is a three-hour train ride, or two hours by bus, I gotta get Yuan-er in forty minutes and-”

“You’re not cooking tonight.” Mianmian stole one of his mints from the bowl, “I am. I don’t want to die. Lan Xichen’s sending a car for you.”

“It wasn’t that spicy, Yuan-er?”

Mianmian shrugged, “I’ll grab him, Good luck, put on a tie.”

She pushed off his desk, returning to her own.

Wei Ying flipped her off before digging out the only tie he had.

The car ride was only an hour, but it felt like an eternity. He’d met Lan Xichen when Cloud Recesses Disaster Recovery had been brought in for an oil spill off the coast of Seattle, in which Wei Ying was both an anti-capitalist protester and volunteer. He was pretty sure Lan Xichen forgave him for nearly setting him on fire. In his defense he hadn’t known he’d been there at the time. Companies didn’t like talking to Volunteers, and Volunteers had decided on in situ burning to prevent the build up of oil near a turtle nesting ground.

He hadn’t lit anything on fire recently, so it couldn’t have been for that.

The Corporate offices were high in the mountains that forced corporations that ruined the environment to climb up the stairs, while employees got the trolley ride up the back.

He was greeted upon arrival, and taken straight to Lan Xichen’s office.

“Lan Xichen I-”

He was met with bright gold eyes staring at him from the otherside of the room.

This one went places. Were those good places?

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Desiree Faith Simons(oc)™️

Warnings: toxic work environment, manipulation, coercion, alcohol consumption, being exposed on social media, this chapter gets a wee bit angsty. Mandy Rose, and Eva Marie are big time heels in this story, this is no hate to their actual on screen characters or them as people by the way. Please enjoy, leave comments, reblogs and follow for more 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Previous chapter here: chapter 3

Chapter 4: But wait…there’s more

Desiree and Drew arrive at the arena together, their arms link together, and a smug look on Drew’s face. It was no big secret to everyone else how badly he missed Desiree while she was gone; his mood was incredibly somber, and volatile. Those were considered to be some dark days, but as he peers down at her, a warmth that he hadn’t felt in a while, settles in his chest. He is happy she’s back. “Double Dee!” Naomi’s voice carries through the hall, she’s leaning against a production crate off to the side. She hasn't changed into her attire for the night, but her make up is already done.

Desiree detaches herself from Drew, and jogs towards her best friend. “Baby!” Desiree squealed happily, they met each other halfway, and collided. Their arms wrap around each other, the both of them squeezing as hard as they can. When they part, Drew gives Naomi a high five, but he stretched his arm up well above his head.

“There’s no way you’re reachin that las.” He teases, a playful smirk on his lips. Naomi was no taller than 5 '5, no matter how great her hoops are, the Scottish warriors arms are just too long.

Naomi groans, “this is cheating somehow.” She rolls her eyes, but didn’t fight the grin that stretches across her lips.

“I got you, I got you!” Desiree shoutes, her arms are open, and she lowers into a squatting position. Naomi, trusting her friend, braced herself on Desiree’s shoulders, and with all the strength in her thighs she lifted Naomi. Quickly she slaps Drew’s hand before Desiree lets her go, carefully placing her back on the ground.

Drew was taken aback by such a display of Desiree’s strength. My girlfriend just deadlifted another human being, that’s hot. He internally moaned, that is quite possibly the most attractive thing he’s seen a woman do. “watch out folks, the gun show is in town.” He deeply chuckles, on cue Desiree began to flex her muscles, and pose arrogantly. Okay, she definitely didn’t have those muscles before. His phone buzzes in his pocket, the ladies continue their conversation on their own when he becomes distracted.

Unknown number: you didn’t tell her about us?

Drew stares at his phone quizzically, it’s unusual he’d get a text from some random person. It’s not like a whole lot of people have his personal number, he’s itching to text back, but he had a bad feeling about that. Whatever, maybe it’s one of the guys fucking around. He dismisses it all together, then deletes the text.

“I’m gonna go get done up.” Desiree’s voice brings his attention back to the present, he barely replies before she reaches up, and pecks him on the lips. He can see how eager she is to go gossip with one of her girls, so he didn’t fuss. He understands just how important her friendships are to her above all else; that’s how Drew and Desire started. A dumb, little friendship where he’d tease, and kid with her all day long. Then somewhere down the line things got intimate fast, he was so attracted to her that he just let it happen. It was too late when he realized what was happening, that he had fallen in love with her. If it hadn’t been for him starting over in NXT, they never would have met.

“Girl, I’m so glad you and Drew are back together. Maybe now he can stay out of trouble, I was really starting to worry about him, you know?” Naomi sat across from Desiree in an unoccupied makeup chair. It was true, Drew had a cloud hanging over his head; most of the male locker room steered clear of him, Naomi was one of the ones that refused to leave him hanging.

Desiree feels uncomfortable, feeling guilty that she wasn’t there for him, but she swallows that down. “Technically we never were officially a thing.” She mumbles, embarrassed, to which Naomi rolls her eyes

“Doesn’t matter, you’re back, so now he can stop getting suspended damn near every month. Drew is like a big brother to me, and you know I love you Desipooh. I just wanna see everyone happy.” Naomi said lovingly, her words genuine, and sweet as always. If there is anyone who could put a smile on her face, it’s Naomi, and Desiree loved her for always being such a light when needed.

As Ashely works on Desiree’s eyeshadow, Desiree sat with her eyes closed, and a small grin on her lips. “What else do you have to tell me about my time away?”

“You know I don’t gossip…” Naomi trailed off, she did want to tell her about the rumors about Drew and Seth, and who their drama was really about; however, she felt like it wasn't her place to talk about a man's business. Instead she said,"mmm I think you should be asking Drew a lot of what went on while you were gone.”

"What does that even mean?” Desiree pressed Naomi for information, but she didn't budge, the silent denial of Desiree request for information shocked her. The two of them shared everything, so the fact she was holding back now made her feel a mix of emotions she didn't know how to describe. Betrayal being at the forefront.

When Desiree opened her eyes Naomi was still sitting across from her, an apologetic expression on her face, and a sheepish smile stretching across her glossy lips . "Drew will tell you everything, I promise.” If only she knew I’ve been trying forever with him. She felt defeated when it came to that topic, Desiree parts her lips to speak, but is cut off by the sound of someone's laughter. "Are you sure about that, Naomi? He wasn't even man enough to tell her that another woman was doing what she couldn't.” Mandy Rose, shasways towards Desiree and Naomi. Mandy and Eva Marie stood with their arms linking together, a prideful expression adorning her features when Desiree became visibly upset. She stands from her seat, and so does Naomi, ready to get in between them if things get too heated.

Desiree chuckled dryly, "yeah if I were Drew I wouldn't claim a bitch that didn't know how to blend her nose contour either.” It's a lame rebuttal, but she'd be lying if she said this whole situation wasn’t making it feel like someone is clutching her heart. She’s trying to maintain her composure, but Mandy is not making it easy at all.

"I can't wait till you wake up and realize that a man like that won't wait for you to make up your mind.” She laughed lightly, she whipped her long blonde tresses over her shoulder, and folded her arms over her chest.

“It’s giving background character to be honest.” Eva giggled, her hand over her mouth trying poorly to suppress her laughter.

Desiree tilted her head, “I’m sorry who are you?” She asked with feign confusion, Eva’s bright red lips pressed into a flat line, Naomi could be heard snickering from the sideline.

"I know Drew better than you Desiree, when he's feeling needy he can't help but spill his deepest darkest secrets with me.” Mandy whispered so only the two of them could hear her words, Naomi didn't like the way this was going. Mandy Rose was a habitual liar, and would say anything to control the narrative in her favor. Naomi and Jimmy were victims of that a long time ago, but she didn't understand why she was locked in on Desiree so much?

"You may have had his dick, but I’ve always had his heart, try again.” Desire spoke fiercely, she just about had enough of Mandy's bullshit, there was a momentary pause, and she's never found it so difficult to be in someone's presence before. Mandy took a step back from Desiree. She grimaced, at a loss for words as Naomi tugged at her best friend's arm to leave. Desiree didn't have to look over her shoulder to know that the fitness models, Mandy Rose and Eva Marie, still had their eyes on her. Desiree, and Naomi kept walking until they reached the ring. With it still being the afternoon, there weren't any fans yet. A production team busied themselves with their work, a few of the officials were standing off to the side discussing that night's show.

Seth was in the middle of the ring, he looked to be discussing a match with Cody Rhodes. “I'm gonna talk to Seth.” Desiree muttered, Naomi wore an uneasy expression, but she nodded her head. She let go of Desiree's arm, she watched as Desiree approached the ring, and climbed up on the apron. Naomi hoped Mandy's words didn't affect her too badly. “Hey blockhead.” Desiree called out to him, he pulled out of the headlock Cody had him in.

“How did you know she meant you?” Cody asked looking dumbfounded, his gaze moved between Seth and Desiree, and he wondered if everything he's been told about her were true. That she only after the spotlight, and had no problem cutting people off to get to the top of her success. Brandi referred to her as an Ice Queen. Cody thought about the conversation he and his wife were having the night of Desiree’s return, but he’s heard the complete opposite from some of Desiree’s closest friends. Seth definitely only had nice things to say about her, which is nothing new under the sun when it came to him, the man known as The Architect is very kind hearted.

Seth snorted, "I’m gonna beat Seth Rollins because he’s got an ego the size of his blockhead, and I’ve got an asswhooping big enough to match.” He repeated Desiree’s words from their first promo together years ago, verbatim. Cody's eyes shined with amusement, seeing some of her current work proves she hasn’t lost her touch being out for a year.

“Don't blame me, Dusty told me to be myself, and lucky for me he paired Seth and I together. That was the first thing that came out.” She shrugged her shoulders as she climbed inside the ring, she leaned her back in the corner, and draped her arms lazily over the top ropes.

“Dusty had been calling me ‘blockhead’ for weeks after that.” Seth smiled to himself recalling the memory, those were good days for him, and he didn't regret a moment of it. Things with Desiree were easier too, he wasn't sure when they had drifted so far as friends, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't have to do with a six foot Scottsman. Ah yes, the thorn in my side for many years. Seth thought sourly to himself, “anyways, what do you want?” He asked half heartedly, just at the thought of his drama with Drew he was exhausted.

"Is that how you talk to your friend?” she asked softly, a small smile on her lips, and blarney in her chocolate brown eyes. Whatever it was that she wanted from him, it must be difficult for them both for her to be so nice to him.

Seth chuckled deeply, "oh, is that what we are? Friends?” he asked bemusedly, Cody took this as his cue as he was starting to feel more like a third wheel in the conversation. He slapped Seth on his shoulder, then waved a friendly hand in Desiree's direction before leaving. “Are you happy? You scared Cody off with your Wednesday Adams ass smile.” The second Cody was out of earshot her face changed, her lips fell into a pout, and her eyebrows pinched together. The way she denied his banter this time was different than the last, she looked pissed, but she was at least doing a good job at holding it back.

"What happened between you and Drew? And don't give me any shit about him being the one to tell me because I've tried that, and he won't budge. I'm sick being the one left in the dark.” She whined, he felt bad about not saying anything, though he's surprised she still doesn't know.

“You wouldn't be if you'd just open your eyes Des.” He breathed, he sat in the middle of the ring with his legs crossed, Desiree came to sit in front of him, mirroring his movements. “Would you believe me if I said all this?” He gestured between the both of them, his index finger making circular motions. "Has everything to do with you?”

“Plain English please.”

Seth exhaled through his nose, he turned his eyes up to the arena lights as he silently prayed for patience. “Listen, way back when, I maybe had a crush on you or whatever, and Drew didn’t like that.”

Desiree gasped, “what? You had a what?” She shouted, some people turned their heads in their direction out of curiosity, but quickly lost interest.

“Jesus this ain’t a telenovela, it’s not like being attracted to you specifically is weird. You’re charming in an annoying way, goofy, and you’re pretty damn talented too.” Seth spoke honestly, he would never feel the same about her as he once did, there was too much distance between them now. But he wasn't going to lie about his past feelings either.

She looked down at her hands, her fingers were tangled together, she felt vulnerable under his gaze. “I didn’t know…” she whispered, she felt dumb that all this time she never saw it, but then again her thoughts were preoccupied by her career.

“It’s not your fault really, now that I look back on it, I don’t think I tried hard enough. I let my jealousy of whatever the hell there was between you and Drew get in my way, and I just sorta gave up on trying.” He shrugged his shoulders, they were all so young back then, he knew in his heart that had that been now, he’d fight for her harder. “The man I am today never would have let you go.” Seth thought that would have been difficult to admit out loud, especially to her face, but instead it felt like a weight had been lifted.

“So what about you and Drew, did he ever say anything to you?”

“Of course! Drew always has something to say, he was nice about it at first, but then when you started hanging out with him less and less, he blamed that on me.” Again he looked up at the arena ceiling, this time he wished for a lifeline, he’s been saying Seth was the reason for their wedge this whole time, and now he was right. “The heat between us just carried on through the years, we never reconciled, and when you got injured a while ago things just got worse.”

Desiree’s eyebrows pinched, “that’s not fair Seth, you had nothing to do with that.” She felt second hand guilt, she could just about guess how those arguments went; Drew would never start off yelling, but if it prolonged he’d be shouting and roaring like a bull. As stubborn as Seth was, she knew he’d never back down from Drew’s fury.

“I know, listen Des, I may have caused an argument a while ago that I should warn you about if you bring this up to him.” He paused for a moment, the countdown clock for all talent to clear the ring, and head backstage began ticking. “A few months before your return, we got into it again. I don’t really remember how it started, but I lied and said you talk to me all the time. Then he jumped me, then we got into a huge fist fight.” He cringed towards the end, he was holding his breath, and waited for her to yell at him.

“Colby! Why would you do that, you know how he felt about me…you’re such an idiot.” She punched his shoulder as hard as she could hoping it actually hurt him.

“Ouch! I know, okay! Not one of my finest moments to lie about something so dumb—

“To you! It’s dumb to you, it really tore him up inside, and you might have made that worse. You owe him an apology, and the truth.” She got up to her feet as the clock reached two minutes, she swallowed back the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she approached him about this, but she sure as hell didn’t expect that.

“Fine, I’ll apologize.”

“Tonight.” She hissed through clenched teeth, and fire in her eyes, Seth thought better than to crack a joke right about now, the pain in his harm from where she punched him was still throbbing.

“Yes, I swear, when I find him it’ll be the first thing I do. Pinky promise.” Seth held out his pinky finger, he wiggled it encouragingly, but eventually Desiree caved. They enter locked fingers, “I really am sorry I’m part of the problem Des.” He said after a while, their fingers were still interlocked, he needed to let her know it wasn’t his intention to hurt her in any way. She matched his gaze, she hadn’t been mentally present in so long that she forgot how comforting Seth’s eyes could be.

“Friends?” She offered.

“Best friends actually.” He grinned, when Desiree didn’t argue, he pulled her in for a hug. They were the last two of the talent to leave to ring as the production team finished things up for the show. They walked side by side through the curtain, Hunter wasn’t there yet, but some of the other creative team sat around the gorilla.

“I’m gonna go get dressed, you find Drew?” Desiree confirmed, as she held onto Seth’s shoulders pulling his focus in, Seth nodded his head with a determined look, and then they split ways.

Fortunately for Seth he didn’t have to try that hard to find Drew, as soon as he rounded the corner, there he was. Talking to Mandy Rose, they seemed to be arguing about something as they aggressively spoke in harsh whispers. “Just the man I was looking for.” Seth chuckled, his eyes darted to Mandy with curiosity, but they didn’t linger for too long. The less he knew the better, besides he was crap at lying when it came down to it.

Drew for once, appeared relieved to see Seth, “saved by the bell.” Mandy mumbled, without a glance in his direction she practically stomped past him, her lips were deeply turned into a frown.

“I’m not even gonna ask about that.” Seth started before Drew had a chance to try and clarify anything, “I actually came here to talk about the one person we’ve been killing each other over for years.” He always tries to keep it light with Drew nowadays, since apparently anything could set him off when it came to Seth in particular.

“I have zero interest, now get out of my way.” Drew said gruffly, he was kind enough to not just shove Seth kid his way the second he opened his mouth. That doesn’t mean he’s out of the water yet.

“No can do my man, I refuse to leave without the two of us at least being frenemies.” Seth breathed out, a hint of a smirk on his mouth, and a gleam of determination in his hazel eyes.

“That’s fine, I can always move you myself.” Drew’s lips stretched into a smile, but it didn’t match the look in his eyes. Seth knew Drew would make this harder than necessary, he was prepared to stand his ground, because he felt it utterly useless for the two of them to fight over a girl that left them both.

“She doesn’t want us fighting Drew.” He called out melodically just as Drew was turning to leave, he paused, he couldn’t just not have anything to say in regards to Desiree. Drew always has an opinion, or a comment about something, it’s unlike him to not say his thoughts out loud.

“Why were you even talking to her in the first place?” Drew asked, that same jealousy he thought he had buried, was slowly bubbling inside of him. He could feel himself burning hot, but he remained calm to the best of his ability.

“You know why, you won’t man up and tell her the truth, so she found someone who will.”

Drew’s eyes snapped downwards at Colby, his icy eyes were like daggers sharp enough to kill as he looked at him. It’s always the same song and dance with you, Seth thought to himself, “you be real careful of your next words, or we’re gonna have a part 5 right here, right now.” He mumbled in a low whisper, his accent making half of that sound like gibberish in Seth’s ears, but he didnt need a translation for the threat he just received.

“C’mon Drew, what did you expect? She was gonna find out every single thing that’s been happening while she was gone. You of all people should know what it feels like to have people say shit about you when you’re not even around to defend yourself.” Seth couldn’t tell by the blank stare if he was penetrating Drew’s cold walls, but all he could do was continue to be honest. “All that aside, I genuinely wanted to apologize, so here it is.” He took a deep breath trying to gather his words, and prepare for Drew to completely reject everything he’s about to say.

“I’m sorry.” Colby unfolded his hands from his chest, then placed a hand to his chest where his heart would be. Drew seemed to have come back to life, and out of his meditation, an expression of shock settled onto his face as Colby continued to speak his apology. “First of all, I lied about those messages she was sending me, that was low, and I knew how much her communication meant to you. I just wanted to make you angry, and embarrass you in front of everyone.” Becky had told Seth months ago to tell Drew the truth, “it’s not just about him, speaking your truth out loud will really take a weight off you never knew you had.” And boy was she right. There was a long pause, it was evident that Drew hadn’t found the words to reply, he had almost forgotten why they had that fight to begin with. Now that he recalls that day, he remembered feeling like someone had shot him in the heart.

“Are you done?” Drew’s voice sounded hoarse, like he hadn’t talked in years, and he was using his vocal chords for the first time.

“Not quite, you know I’ve had feelings for Desiree in the past, and I can assure you it’s not like that anymore. That ship sailed long ago, but can you live with Desiree and I being friends?” Seth held Drew’s unwavering gaze, he hated the idea so badly.

Drew breathed out, at this point he just wanted the conversation to be over so that he could have time to himself. “Listen man, as much as I want to lock Desiree up, and throw away the key…I’m not gonna do that. Everybody loves her, it’s just who she is, if I can share her with millions of strangers, I can share her with family.” His body had relaxed, he had fallen back into his slouching stance, which only shrunk him by a few inches.

“So…frenemies?” Seth asked excitedly, he wiggled happily as he could see Drew breaking that icy exterior of his. Drew took a step forward, his hand out to Seth, and a sly grin on his lips. Seth didn’t hesitate to meet him halfway, satisfied with the way this conversation ended.

“Of course Colby, frenemies it is.” He smiled, but when he didn’t let Seth’s hand go, a chill ran up his spine; when Drew got that murderous stare in his eyes, it’s best to stay out his way. “But if you get my business again, in any way, I will kill you.” And he said it all while smiling still.

“No more trouble from me, scouts honor.” Seth grinned, he held the three finger salute up, Drew rolled his eyes, but finally let Seth go. The two men wordlessly parted ways, there was a pep in Seth’s step after making amends with a long time foe. He didn’t think anything else of it, and went about his night, Drew on the other hand had more thinking to do. He found himself in the men’s locker room, thankfully for him it wasn’t crowded yet. He took a seat near a corner, his elbows digging in his knees, and his palms covering his face.

Desiree’s face came to his mind. Her beautiful deep brown skin, her pretty wide eyes, with chestnut colored irises. Her lips always set in a pout, but boy when she did smile it was bright. He knew it was time to officially ask Desiree to be his girlfriend, they somehow managed to skip over that all this time, but he was going to rectify that. He also had to find a way to permanently end the Mandy situation; she has been extra naggy lately, and there’s only so much he can say to her as a man. Put that on the todo list of ‘things to talk to Desiree about.’ He pulls out his phone to send Desiree a quick message, but she had already texted him.

Deedee: i wanna cook when we get back home! 🩷

His heart fluttered, she had never offered to cook for him before, he’s overheard a lot of her girl friends talk about her cooking, but he’s never had the chance to taste it himself.

Drew: of course whatever you want sweetheart. 🫠

Later that night, after the show, Drew and Desiree finally touched down in Florida by 2 am. Without question they went straight upstairs to the bed after showering, and changing into fresh clothes. They immediately fell asleep, their arms and legs tangled. By the time Desiree woke up, it was well into the afternoon, and when she peeled her eyes open the sunlight burned her eyes. “Ugh.” She groaned rolling over expecting to feel Drew’s large, warm body next to her, but his side of the bed was empty. The strong scent of coffee brought her out of the bed, she followed it all the way downstairs, and into the kitchen.

“You need this.” On cue Drew turned with a cat shaped mug in his hands, her hands sleepily reached for the mug, but he pulled back. “Ah, kiss the chef.” He grinned, his lips already perked, and ready. She didn’t fight him in her groggy state, instead she pecked him on the lips like he requested, and finally she was rewarded.

She took a sip, and then another, “morning.”

“Oh! She’s alive everyone, whew, thought we lost you there for a second.” Drew feigned relief, he fist bumped their tabby, he reached out and tapped his tiny paw to Drew’s large knuckle. “Awe, she’s never been a morning person has she?” He brought her in to him, he pressed a kiss on her forehead, took her mug, and carefully sat it on the counter.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” Her words muffled as her face was pressed into his bare chest, her arms wrapped around his waist, and her full weight leaning against him.

Drew let out a hearty laugh, “I wish princess, but we’ve got adult things to talk about.” His hand placed gently atop her head, the bonnet she put on her head last night undoubtedly ended up on her side of the floor near the bed. Her hair was a mess of coils all over head, which is how he knew she was tired because she didn’t even bother with it this morning.

“Fine, I’ll finish my coffee, and cook while you talk.” She rolled her eyes, pushed away from Drew’s embrace, but made sure to grumpily kiss him on the lips one last time. He thought she was so adorable in the mornings, her face is still puffy, and her grouchy attitude is easily fixed by just letting her be.

Desiree busied herself with the food while Drew just got right to it. “The problem is Mandy Rose—

“That heffa still stalking you?” She cut him off, the stainless steel knife in her hand pointing at his eyes, he gave her a pointed look. “Sorry.” She mumbled, then went back to chopping sweet potatoes, then she drizzled them with olive oil, and threw them in the air fryer. She flipped the burgers in the skillet causing the meat to sizzle, and hiss.

“Yes, she keeps trying to get me to tell you some dark secret I’m apparently hiding but I already told you about…that.” He didn’t meet her sharp stare, he’s not sure if he’ll ever get over the embarrassment of sleeping with Mandy.

“Are you sure that’s all there was?”

“No I swear, not that I can think of.”

“Well you better think harder, because this bitch isn’t playing around, and neither the fuck am I.”

“Damn it Desiree, if I knew I’d tell you!”

“Would you?” Her question was simple, yet loaded. Maybe there was a microscopic part of her that still ached that she went looking for the comfort of another woman simply because she wasn’t available. Truth be told she blamed herself more than anyone else.

“C’mon Dee…it was one mistake, and I’m standing here trying to tell you I want to get rid of her before she ruins my career. Before she ruins us.”

“Drew, I forgive you, I do. And no matter what, I’m on your side. It’s just hard to forget that you did that, especially with her ass prancing around like she’s Santa’s favorite reindeer. Shit, you’re the one with a Criminal Law degree, use it.” Desire held his gaze for a moment longer before putting her focus back on the food. She thought it was pathetic how Mandy practically preyed on Drew while he was weak, but she had no idea how to even help Drew.

“Listen, let’s just try to enjoy our time off for now.” Desiree presented Drew with a steaming plate of food; burgers, sweet potato fries, and onion rings with sriracha and mayo sauce. His troubles were instantly forgotten about, his eyes eating for him, as she pushed the plate in front of him. She joined him after plating her own food, and pouring drinks.

“This is so good.” He moaned, his mouth full of food, and his eyes rolled in the back of his head. Desiree had only managed to eat half her burger and her fries. She enjoyed watching him eat, and enjoyed her food.

“Ouu I was thinking we can go sit on the patio tonight, and enjoy the stars?” She kissed his forehead, already cleaning their plates, Drew damn near licking his clean.

“Sounds good.” He mumbled partly distracted by his phone as he scrolled through twitter, he choked on his spit from the post he keeps seeing as she’s scrolling.

“What is it?” Desire turned, she was washing dishes when she realized he was being way too quiet, his skin looked sickly pale. His body became rigid as he continued to scroll, “Drew.” She called him, but he couldn’t dare move. His body felt like a ton of bricks, all the food he just ate felt like it was about to rush back up. Before he had time to react she had taken the phone from his hands, her eyes flickered over to him for a beat, then back to the phone.

She couldn’t believe what she was watching, “you gotta be fucking kidding?” A three minute and twenty-six second long video of Drew and Mandy in a wedding chapel, in Las Vegas. It was evident that Drew was very drunk, it’s a possibility Mandy was too, but she was more coherent than her groom. She watched in utter horror, and shock as Drew drunkenly said ‘I do Elvis’then hiccuped. Again her emotions were all over the place, mostly she felt rage that Mandy would even do this.

The sound of Drew’s voice made her jump, she had forgotten that he was sitting there. His eyes wet with tears, an expression of distraught, and his voice weak. “My career is over.”

[bubble-popping]

day 21 i'm so consistent :) we'll see how long it rly lasts. more cryptid c!dream :D

He decided his best shot, since the thing could fucking teleport, was consulting an expert in the field. "Ranboo, I need your help." The chill of Snowchester was nothing compared to the literal Arctic, especially with his many layers of clothing and furs. The dual-toned ender hybrid stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless for a long moment. "Um. That's... probably the last thing I expected you to say. What, uh, what do you need my help with?"

"I have a pest problem, Ranboo, and I require your specific level of expertise." He explained so eloquently, yet Ranboo seemed even more confused than before.

"Oookay? Um, lead the way, I guess? I don't have anything special to do today, sooo..."

Exactly twenty minutes later, the two were trekking through the snow towards Techno's cozy cottage.

Techno looked over the horizon and smirked. "Perfect. It'll be here soon."

And the way he said that had Ranboo even more on edge, reluctance in his voice when he asked, "Um, what is it?"

"You'll see. It always come out at night," the pinkette said, nonchalant and cryptically terrifying at the same time.

"Oh. Okay."

The feeling of dread only worsened as they sat in Techno's living room in utter silence, not even a crackling fire to quell the awkwardness and tension. However, Techno just looked deep in concentration. His eyes were closed, body leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. He almost looked to be meditating, if not for the serious crease in his brow and stiffness in his muscles.

Ranboo really wanted to ask what the hell was going on, why he of all people had to be here, and how it was possible that The Technoblade needed help with something. Finally, after far too long of suffocating silence, Ranboo opened his mouth to speak-

Only for a sudden smash! to startle them both. Techno sprang to his feet and took Ranboo by the arm, hauling him up as well and pointing a finger to his lips. "Stay quiet. Don't spook it."

Ranboo quickly nodded his head and made no complaints as the clearly unhinged man led him to the basement trapdoor--resolutely ignoring how horrific that truly sounded--since he very much liked the fact that his head was attached to his shoulders.

Techno produced a torch from his inventory, marginally adding to the light of the torch already there. Some feet away, near the back of the room, laid the pieces of a broken glass bottle. As they walked closer to investigate, Techno grabbed his sleeve, halting him in his tracks, then gestured with his torch something off to the side.

Well, someone, actually.

Someone that Ranboo thought he recognized, though he wasn't sure why.

He addressed them, a simple greeting, but in a foreign tongue Techno could never hope to understand.

They jolted, retracting from rummaging in a chest to stare unblinking at the two. Their ears were perked, tail raised, the same pose they usually took just before they vanished.

Except, this time, they broke into a wide grin. They responded, just as indecipherable and not too unlike the guttural sounds of regular endermen, but in what Techno assumed to be an enthusiastic tone.

Ranboo too smiled, pointing to himself before pointing to them. Again, they replied, having lost interest in the chest enough to fully face them.

"So, what's up? What's it sayin'?" Techno interrupted, reminding Ranboo of the whole reason he was brought here in the first place.

"Oh! Right, so, this is a Farlands enderman, Farlander for short. They're super rare, especially so close to the server spawn. I'm not really sure why or how he got here-"

"Ranboo, Ranboo, it's great yer makin' friends and all, but can ya ask why he keeps trespassin' on my property?"

"Uh, I can try? I'm actually pretty bad at speaking Enderian besides the basics. I can understand it perfectly, even though he's got kinda, I guess what you guys would call an 'accent,' but anyway, holding a conversation is a whole different-"

The Farlander spoke again, surprising the duo to see he'd gotten closer.

"Oh, perfect! He understands English!"

"Wow, that's really convenient. Well, what'd he say?"

"He said he really likes honey."

Techno blinked, glancing between the two enders. "What does that have to do with my basement?"

At this, the Farlander took out a glass bottle as if demonstrating something while he explained.

"He saw how mad you got about what he did to the hives so he got the idea to harvest the honey in bottles like he saw you do before," Ranboo translated.

"That's it? Ya just wanted honey? Ya coulda just asked!"

He deadpanned and muttered something.

"You wouldn't have understood him. Plus, he didn't say this, but you'd probably be pretty freaked out if he just appeared one day trying to ask for honey in Enderian."

"I was pretty freaked out when this thief snuck into my basement and started stealin' my stuff! It wasn't about honey then, now was it?"

The Farlander fidgeted with his nails, sheepishly saying something under his breath.

"He was just really hungry and needed food, but he's sorry for scaring you."

"Scared? Of this oversized fluffball? Not a chance, I was merely confused. But nonetheless, I accept yer apology."

He beamed, showing off sharp canines, as his tail wagged behind him.

"Well, seems like you guys have this figured out now, so I'm gonna-"

"Ah-ah, not so fast, Ranboo. I wanna know what this guy's plan is! Are ya just gonna keep stealin' from me?"

The Farlander seemed to have a sad look on his face when he spoke now. Ranboo placed a hand over his heart, clearly touched by what he said.

"He'd gotten separated from his haunt in a blizzard. He tried looking for them, but hasn't found a single trace, so now he's alone trying to fend for himself."

"Yeah, sounds exactly like the kinda tragic backstory a traitor gives ya before stabbin' ya in the back."

"I'm... not gonna try to unpack all that, but it is serious for endermen to stay with their haunts until they're ready to go out on their own."

"I fail to see how's that my problem."

"Dude..."

"Yer the other enderman here! I dunno the first thing about takin' care of-"

Their argument was interrupted by the Farlander abruptly throwing his arms around Techno's shoulders and hugging him. The pinkette scowled at Ranboo's smug expression.

"Looks like he's already made up his mind."

And that was how Techno accidentally acquired a roommate.

[transforming]

When I was younger, I would always feel jealous of the male models in the fashion industry. They were tall, always had such good hair, handsome... and how they also have muscles while remaining so slender intrigued me. I swear, it was as if God had cursed me to be forever skinny, acne-scarred, short and with unshapeable flat hair. It was as if I was destined to be the ugly office nerd for the rest of my life, and I thought that I would be able to 'glow up' like my classmates did, but that never fucking materialized.

One day, I was trudging home from my economics class in the middle of winter, when I saw a lilac cowboy hat on a lonely stone bench. It seemed so out of place in the dull, drab world around me, and I nearly mistook it for a block of ice, so I went over to see what it was.

"Must belong to someone," I thought as I stared at it.

Once I picked it up, I turned it all over, and the chin strap fell from underneath. There was something about the hat, an aura, that... enticed me. Begged me, in some way. To just plop it onto my head. I knew I should have gone to the lost-and-found nearby, but I couldn't help myself.

The moment it sat firm on my greasy head, a moan escaped my lips. I felt something wake up inside me, a candle-like heat. It only grew hotter and hotter, and my body felt like it was up in flames. I closed my eyes and ran my hands up my sweater, and I gasped when i felt my slight belly fat melt into a perfectly-chiseled six pack.

The heat spread all over, and I could feel my skin getting more supple and youthful, while my bony, flat chest blossomed into lean, slender pecs. I swirled my finger around my now sensitive nipple, while my shoulders and back broadened and stretched, increasing my height. Even though that happened, I was still skinny... like...

My arms and legs were next. Wiry sinews started to throb and shake, and I fell to my knees, but where I was expecting to hit my ankles hard was now a round, perky butt. I chuckled, nearly giggled as I noticed my arms bulk up, filling my biceps.

I looked down at my hands, which shook me, because they were obviously masculine, but had a touch of softness and beauty to them. The changes didn't stop there, as my aching feet exploded out of my shoes.

Suddenly, the chinstrap came to life and tightened around my jaw, reshaping it and scratching my face as it hollowed out my cheeks and squared my jaw, it was more chiseled and defined, with a light five-o-clock shadow coming on. My face was on fire as the changes melted my features. My nose sharpened. My eyebrows became thinner, more pretty. My lips plumped, and my eyes began to brighten.

It all felt so good, so enchanting. The hat tightened around my scalp, and I could feel all of what made me - my fears, my intelligence, and my dreams - get sucked away, leaving my mind a blank slate. As it did, the roots of my hair began to curl and wave, blowing in some invisible wind as it changed into a flowing, sleek middle part style.

The heat shot down straight to my dick. I rubbed my delicate hand on my bulge, and I could sense the pleasure of doing so hit an all-time high. Here I was, moaning and biting my lip in the middle of snow, as my tiny, shriveled cock grew hard, but also stretched into a long, juicy sausage, while my balls churned and absorbed all of the old me, growing into a pair of oranges.

I couldn't take it anymore. My dick twitched, I closed my eyes, and let out a deep seductive moan. Cum spurted out, taking everything I was with it. The heat left with it too, but it was as if it now surrounded me.

A flash interrupted that beautiful moment of ecstasy. Opening my eyes, I realized why. I was on a yacht, in the middle of Saint-Tropez, with a photographer in front of me as I posed on the doorway. My clothes felt light, and when I looked down, I was surprised to see I was dressed for the beach.

"Yes, that's good man, you look sexy," the photographer said. The hat fell off my head, the chinstrap keeping it on my slender shoulders as I posed. The mirror inside showed what I had now become, who I had been jealous of before.

I stood there, posing for my next Instagram post. my lips curling into a smolder. Looks like someone finally answered my prayers. I didn't need much smarts anymore, nor did I need to study economics. I was pretty, and that's all I needed to live my new, sexy male model life.

[ms-nesbit]

saving private grayson (a ww2!dick grayson x reader fic)

words: 3.6k

rating: 18+ (minors, as always, fuck off)

warnings: smut, insecure dick grayson, fainting, oral sex, masturbation, grief

summary: cadet Grayson faints prior to his departure to Belfast. His recovery is one to be remembered.

notes: i actually loved writing this one, but that's because i was working through some things. hope you like it too.

read on ao3

A fighter plane soared overhead as Dick sat on the patchy grass, waiting for the captain’s arrival. It was over a hundred and fifty three days since he last saw Gotham, let alone his adoptive father, prior to his draft into the war. God willing, he wanted to roam the tattered streets one last time, as he had prior to his departure, but Dick swallowed the same grief he felt on the campground that he had almost choked on the night of his parents’ death.

Skies above him heavily contrasted the doom looming over the camp, sun beaming down on the cadets’ freshly ironed uniforms. A voice boomed, alerting the cadets to their feet and in line in an orderly fashion.

“Today, you will be marched to your new base in Belfast. I’m not keen on girly talk, but…” the voice drowned out underneath the thumping in Dick’s temple. He had a migraine preceding his arrival to Ireland, but hadn’t thought much of it until the sun, kissing heat upon his face, dimmed, along with his peripherals.

“Grayson, you hear me? Grayson? Grayson!” was all that he heard before he collapsed, rifle plopping to the ground mere seconds before he.

—

Upon opening his eyes, Dick was met with a canvas tent hanging overhead, attempting to sit up and look around before a woman approached him, urging him to remain flat on the fold-out bed. She wore a short-sleeved white shirt and a blue A-line dress layered over it, her hair neatly tucked into a low bun.

“What happened?” Dick sleepily asked, still rising to consciousness.

An older woman stepped up to the other side of the bed, wearing a patch on her bosom, and frown wrinkles. “You passed out in the yard shortly before the march. Sergeant saw it best to keep you here, and send you off tomorrow if you’re better.” her voice was stern, and stare cold. All Dick could reply with was a faint nod. “Nurse y/l/n, please attend to this soldier and watch his vitals. I have to tend to the shipment from Red Cross to prepare us for the battle this week.”

Nurse y/l/n, opposite of the head nurse, replied curtly, “Yes, ma’am.” her posture loosened once the elder nurse vacated the tent, her shoulders rounding into a slump. Dick’s eyes never left her, and he didn’t know whether it was the possible concussion or the angelic figure posing as an ancillary to his recovery.

But he felt safe when she wrapped the blood pressure cuff to his left bicep, securing it before checking his numbers with the air bulb. Her free hand was on his forearm, index finger stroking his wildly strands of arm hair. “So,” he began, clearing his throat, “you, uh, come here a lot?”

Really, Grayson? Really? Dick shut his eyes as soon as he heard the maladroit attempt at flirtation leave his mouth. That is, until he saw the soft corner of her mouth twitch into an acute grin. “Seeing as though this is my station and you are my patient, yes, I believe I am here quite a bit.” the loud tear of the velcro from the cuff interrupted her. “Do you fall unconscious a lot?”

Her voice was titillating, cocking a brow as she stood beside him to hear his response. “Not until I saw you around.” Dick flashed his signature smile that worked back home, overlooking the tightly wrapped adhesive around the crown of his head.

It worked nonetheless, drawing a giggle from the nurse. Her effulgent smile called to him, like a moth to a flame, and he was instantly mesmerized by it. “Pretty sure you’d have passed out long before this morning if that were the case.” she suspected, “Where ya from?”

“Gotham, New Jersey, Miss. And you?”

Nurse y/l/n shrugged, “Chicago.”

Tilting his head to the side, Dick held out an imaginary cigar, mocking Al Capone. “Like the Great Bambino, eh?”

“That’s…the Yankees, hon.” she corrected, still amused by Dick’s charm. Well, there goes that, Dick thought to himself, never really was good at sports anyhow. “Maybe we should take your pulse if you think Baby’s from Chi-town.”

Dick pretended to brush off the criticism, despite being embarrassed by the failure. He lowered the scratchy blanket to expose his bare chest, hoping that maybe his physique could charm the pretty dame. She blinked at the toned figure, dismissive of it as she placed the cold stethoscope on his chest. “Deep breaths in, Big Al.” Dick’s chest rose and fell with his breath. “Again.” she moved her stethoscope, reaching on the far side of the bed (and leaning on Dick’s arm and shoulder) to register the health of his other lung.

As Dick breathed, he glanced over at her free hand, which rested on Dick’s, unaware of the contact. He restrained himself from interlocking their fingers, or bringing her hand to his lips to place a delicate kiss. “Can you sit up for me?” the nurse requested, adjusting her posture.

Dick obliged, sitting up straight as he felt the cold stethoscope on either side of his shoulders; his skin kindled where it met hers, and he took long, deep breaths to prolong the contact he desperately sought.

“You know, my father said we lived around where the St. Valentine’s massacre took place.” she added, folding the stethoscope before neatly placing it in her uniform pocket. “Said that it was just dreadful. My mother didn’t want to leave their apartment for days.” Jesus, that accent’s beautiful. “What about you? I heard that some of the folks from Chicago fled to Gotham after Capone’s arrest. S’that true?”

Treading carefully about his response without compromising his vigilante identity (or that of his adoptive father), Dick pursed his lips before pushing them out, making a ‘pop’. “Heard about it, yeah. I was told when my parents died that one of the goons that murdered them was an import from Chicago, though I dunno for sure.”

Sympathy took over the nurse’s face. “I’m sorry about your parents.” she prefaced, expression soft. “Your vitals look fine. Are you sure you weren’t dehydrated from bathing in the sun for so long?”

Gotcha. Dick grinned cockily. “How did you know I was resting in the sun for a bit?”

The nurse realized her mistake, and instantly exhaled through her nose. “I do believe that’s irrelevant. Well, I think it’d be best if you stayed here in the shade for a while, especially considering the humidity expected this week.”

“Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you’re the one caring for me.” Dick refuted, satisfied with his answer. “Though if we were to become acquainted, I think it would be good for me to get your name. Y’know, for my health.” he placed a hand over his heart.

The nurse rolled her eyes. “You’re not the first one to pull that one over me.” she interposed his zeal, popping it like an overinflated balloon. “But if you wish,” she sighed, leaning in to his ear, her breath close enough to tickle his ear like an inviting breeze. Her voice dipped an octave, the reticence resembling seduction. “My name is y/n.”

“Y/n, huh?” Dick repeated quietly, the name rolling easily from his tongue. “Pleasure is mine.” 

As y/n left, she kept her eyes on Dick, until she turned to exit the tent. It would have been ignorant of Dick to dismiss the way he melted at the sound of her voice, especially in close proximity, and after the interaction, it left Dick full of emotion: taming his debauchery, triumphant in learning nurse y/l/n’s name, and… an unusual feeling. One he hadn’t felt since his time traveling Europe and the States with his parents.

When the night drifted in, soldiers and nurses drifting in and out of the medical tent with their own preoccupations, Dick waited for y/n’s return, eyes darting to the entrance any time he heard footsteps approach. It wasn’t until past dusk, when most of the stationed cadets were ordered back to their quarters, and head nurse into hers, that y/n arrived. By that point, Dick’s eyelids were heavy, bored by the lack of contact, and almost falling asleep.

That is, until he spotted y/n walking slowly up to his bedside. “Hey, you.” he dreamily greeted.

“Do you feel a little better?” y/n withdrew her stethoscope from her pocket, reading Dick’s pulse.

“I do now that you’re here.”

Nurse y/n rolled her eyes at Dick. “I guess I did walk right into that one.” she admitted. “One of the nurses told me, and I wanted to know if this was true 𑁋 were you one of the Flying Graysons?”

“Mm-hmm.” Dick replied.

“Thought you looked familiar. You traveled to the Cicero area back in ‘29 or ‘28, right?”

Dick’s eyes slowly widened, recollection washing over him. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I saw you guys there. I was 9 or 10. Thought you were all a gas.” she conceded, murmuring under her breath  as she turned away to set the blood pressure monitor, “Thought you were really cute, too.”

Dick’s lips turned into a devious smile. “Am I still cute?”

“Depends.” y/n adjusted the cuff on Dick’s bicep, ignoring his flexing of it. “Are you always this mouthy?”

Mouthy? “I just like making some conversation, that’s all.”

Y/n scoffed. “The other on-duty nurses said you were quiet as a mouse when they were around.”

“...so you asked about me?” Dick’s smile was bright, even in the dark, impervious to any of y/n’s attempts to shut down his flirtation.

“Just so you know,” y/n began, pumping the air bulb of the blood pressure cuff, “if Madame - the head nurse - sees me primarily with you when we’re handling a wave of wounds, she’ll dismiss me for the day.”

Dick couldn’t quite pin whether or not y/n’s statement was more of a bluff than a fact. Why would the head dismiss her when they need her most? “Then why not stay the night with me tonight so I won’t miss you so much when it happens?”

A sheepish grin appeared on y/n’s face, followed by a glare. “Do you know how much trouble I would be in if Madame found out?”

“Make something up. I am requesting for you to be at my side for the night for my care.” Dick reached out to touch y/n’s hand, her fingers bending to close around his, before she unhanded him, walking over to the nurse’s station to jot something down.

Dick waited patiently for y/n to return, his leg jumping in the medical bed - similar to a dog’s tail wag - upon y/n’s return. “Had to write down my reason for extended stay, along with your vitals, since you seem to be burning up, Grayson.” she hinted, eyes pleading for Dick to play along.

“My head.” Dick mumbled dramatically, pressing a palm to his forehead. In response, y/n snickered, barely covering her mouth with her hand. “So where were we?” Dick scooted up in his bed, patting a space beside him for y/n to sit; she thanked him and sat stiffly. “It’s okay. If Madame shows up, I can just cover for you. It’s not a problem.”

Y/n turned to face Dick, tucking her feet underneath her thighs. Sweet mercy… Dick thought to himself when he caught a glimpse of y/n’s bare thighs, exposed by the rising nurse uniform. “Your job growing up as an…”

“Acrobat.” Dick finished.

“Right.” y/n said. “Acrobat.” she repeated, mostly for her own sake. “Do you miss traveling? I’m sure being here is nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Though she had a point, she was overall incorrect: Grayson was accustomed to the grime and grit of Gotham, almost blocking out the fugue state of traveling from destination to destination as a child. He looked down as he thought through his answer. “I suppose I do miss it,” he started, dallying facade fading, “but I mostly miss my parents. I never even got to say goodbye.

“And what hurt even more was how I went from this traveling boy wonder-” he paused at the slipup, “-to the adopted son of a Wayne. I’m thankful for the comfortable life, especially since the Depression overtook most of Gotham, but…my adoptive father doesn’t…” he trailed, overcome with emotion. His overgrown dark strands of hair - a mop, as his captain named it - draped over his eyes, masking the tears welling up in his eyes.

But y/n could tell from the broken voice that he was in too deep, and that the war was the last possible thing to break his spirit. She cupped his chin, lifting it so their eyes could meet, neatly combing his loose strands behind his ears. She then wiped a stray tear before it could run down his cheek. “I don’t understand what that’s like,” she admitted, eyes still on his, “but sometimes it’s not okay. Men here get shell shock, and all of a sudden, they realize how poorly they were treated all their lives, and this war was the breaking point to crush their soul. I was worried it would happen to you too.”

Y/n’s hand still on his cheek, Dick cocked his head. “How do you mean?”

“You’re…different, Richard. Most of the cadets that march through here are just boys in uniform, boys in a line, boys with guns. And I’m not sure exactly how old you are,” she chuckled, “but you carry yourself with wise eyes. There’s something in there, and it’s okay to let go.”

The words settled themselves on the bed with Dick and y/n, crawling up Dick’s side, neck, and into his ear. They nauseated him at first, but because y/n was right: he left Gotham for a better cause, but also because he lost himself in the mask and costume. It consumed his identity whole, and Bruce hadn’t seen past his own arrogance to know any better.

Suddenly, y/n’s eyes were familiar. Dick wanted to climb into them and hide, live a free life as a free man, free from the burden he carried - no longer an Atlas; rather, an acrobat, flying about. Despite being the last Flying Grayson, his wings were clipped, and he treaded the Earth, with tattered feathers and blistered feet. 

Stunned, Dick opened his mouth, wanting to say what he repeated in his mind: Come with me. Come home with me. Be my home. He understood now why men in uniforms wed upon their first day back on the mainland. He squeezed her hand, bowing his head in to press his lips to y/n’s.

Y/n returned the kiss, sharply inhaling at the scent of tar, musk, and evergreen Dick carried. His lips were welcoming, warm, as she kissed him, and when she pulled away, she was met with his oceanic eyes crashing at the shore for her.

Again. His eyes asked. Please, kiss me again.

And by all the willpower she had, y/n did, holding Dick’s face with her hands.

Their kiss was deep, passionate, and if it hadn’t been for the lack of privacy, they would have stripped their clothing by minutes’ time. Instead, y/n’s hands roamed to every muscle Dick allowed her to explore, her fingers reaching down, down, down…

Dick gasped into the kiss, y/n’s hand brushing against his clothed erection. She pulled away once more, this time asking with heavy eyes - to which Dick nodded, granting her access to unzip and away the restriction between his need and her desire to touch.

“I have you.” y/n whispered endearingly, pressing her lips to Dick’s cupid’s bow. He reclined, allowing her to take him, his self-control signed away the moment he laid eyes on her. Y/n unbuckled and tugged down Dick’s uniform trousers, along with his underwear, exposing his hardened need. The sight of it alone - truly needy, with precum pooling at its head, throbbing - ignited a heat in y/n’s core.

Dick saw the glossed over look in her eyes, and asked, very tenderly, “May I touch you?”

Y/n managed only a nod, a single one, body impatiently waiting for his contact. To her surprise, Dick placed a hand on her cheek, stroking it, with fond eyes. “There is something I would like to do, if that were alright with you.” he licked his lips, expression nervous. “Can I…taste you?”

He stared longingly at y/n, her hand still at the base of his pelvic bone. Marry me. Love me. Have me as yours. I’ll protect you from everything, he wanted to say, wanted to express, wanted. That was it though: an eternal yearning, or a momentary desire? Dick hadn’t known, nor did he want to spoil his chances at finding out himself. He only waited for y/n to answer, as she contemplated silently.

“Yes.” she breathed, “but be kind and patient. This is my first time.” her cheeks sprinkled a dusty pink. Dick moved on the bed, hands sprawling over y/n’s clothed body as he took all the time he wished he always had. He pushed y/n’s dress up, and rolled her stockings down to her ankles, just barely enough to allow himself access to her dripping core.

He bestowed kisses along her legs, stopping near her sensitive folds as he took in the beauty before him. With one hand, he held her thigh; his other enclosed around his hard cock, breathing unevenly as he waited for her affirmation.

“I’m ready.” she susurrated, voice unstable. With that, Dick dove his head in, licking at her folds. Y/n gasped, legs spreading further. “Oh” she breathed halfheartedly, weakly, as Dick lapped at her bundle of nerves.

Dick rutted into his hand, as eager to hear the noises y/n emitted as he was to know he was the source. He moaned into her pussy, causing her to whimper, hips rising to meet with his mouth. Her head spun, full of everything and nothing; her vision blurred, finding herself near her high, and Dick knew by the way her legs trembled, breathing unsteady, and he thrusted relentlessly into his hand.

“I wanna come with you.” Dick offered, still stroking his cock. “Please, y/n, I want you to come with me.” It was a long time since he wanted to selflessly love, to feel someone else fall before him. Dick would be the first to admit that he behaved selfishly in the past, but not here, not with y/n unwinding beneath his touch, by his touch.

The hospital bed creaked in the night as y/n’s hips faltered, driven by ardor and primal need. “Keep going, Dick,” she whined quietly, as to not disturb the sleeping crew outside of the tent, or - even worse - the shameless nymph that Dick brought out in her.

Dick knew. He saw it in her eyes as they watered, and the way her chin shook with desire. Using the hand that held her thigh, which was now bruised from the tightened grip, he inserted a finger into her entrance, pushing past its fluttering walls to curve into her g-spot, licking and sucking on her clit until she reached her breaking point.

“Oh, my god!” y/n threw her head back into the thin sheets of the hospital bed, hips buckling into Dick’s face and finger as she rode out her orgasm. Dick continued moaning, eyeing her fucked out state, as he chased his own high.

When y/n’s hips fell, she became cognizant of her surroundings - especially Dick, still between her legs, fucking his hand as he stifled his loud moans in the skin of her thigh. Y/n watched intently, ruffling her hand through his untidy dark hair. “Go on, Dear. Come for me.” she cooed, snapping whatever reality Dick held on to, and sending him into a whirling high.

“Y/n, fuck.” Dick whimpered weakly, ropes of cum coming out as he thrusted into his hand. He cursed under his breath, and through barely closed lips, before he finally stilled his hips, and released his now spent cock from his grip.

Y/n fixed her stockings and dress, rushing to her feet to assist in cleaning Dick’s mess. She returned with a warm towel, and a glass of water, urging Dick to lie down as she helped blot up the sticky cum that fell on himself and his blanket.

“You really don’t need to baby me, y/n.” Dick joked.

“I’m not,” y/n reminded, “just wanted to clean up since that stuff looks uncomfortable to deal with.”

Dick burst into laughter. “It is.” he sipped some of the water before reaching over and placing it on the stand-up end table beside his bed. “Can I hold you? When you’re free, of course.” he chuckled awkwardly, new to the circumstance.

Y/n neatly folded the towel and placed it under Dick’s bed, in a hidden bag for used towels. She climbed into the bed with Dick, laying on her side as Dick brought his arm around her shoulders, closing the space between them.

Silently, they shared the night together, listening for the distant whoosh of the ocean, and the crickets’ calling for one another. Y/n was first to drift to sleep, her inhale stuttering before she released a deep exhale through her nose. Dick kissed her hair, occasionally glancing at her relaxed, dreamed state.

“I love you.” he muttered, low enough for barely even his ear to catch. He was happy with his answer from the universe, the bluebird resting in Robin’s arms as they began their tidings together. Whether he were to fly to war, buried in hollow nests and earthly burrows, he knew that his home was here, under the bluebird’s wing, with her body intertwined with his.

He no longer felt heavy. Dick Grayson was free.

[hypnoneghoul]

Is This the Time I Should Be On My Knees For You?

WC: 970

Relationship: Rain/Dewdrop

Tags: Transmasc Dewdrop, blow jobs

Rain finds Dew's old Meliora uniform and decides to try it on. Dew dies (of horniness).

Notes: A vision casted upon me by @crimsonclergy and @kroas-adtam.

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Rain didn’t exactly plan that. He was just looking through Dew’s wardrobe, for one of the hoodies he likes to steal, and came across a dusty garment bag, hanging in the very back. He thought maybe Dew owned a suit, and if that’d be the case, Rain would demand seeing him in it.

It turned out to be kind of a short cassock, and Rain quickly recognised it as a previous era stage outfit. He did sometimes forget his mate used to play bass in Terzo’s band setup when he was still a water ghoul.

Rain really didn’t mean to try it on, but he was just so curious about how his shoulders would look in it, his legs. So, he did try it on.

He was a bit scared of ripping it, it was so tight. Another reminder about how small Dewdrop was. Not that Rain was huge, he was as lanky, but he was taller, had wider shoulders and was just a bit bigger, in general. He could barely breathe in the uniform, let alone button it up all the way.

He looked himself over, posing before the full body mirror and he came to a conclusion that he looked really hot in it, even if it didn’t fit.

The buttons that he did manage to do up were holding on for dear life, his chest and shoulders filling the uniform, leaving everything tight and snug. Rain could as well be shirtless, his build so perfectly highlighted, whole body defined, the sash making his borderline slutty waist even more pronounced, sluttier. 

But the best thing? Rain’s legs.

He didn’t even dare trying on the pants, he could fit his arms into them at best, so he left his legs exposed. The skirt was so short on him it barely reached the half of his thighs and it made his long legs so good. Rain was very well aware of his looks and even more of the effect said looks had on other ghouls. Especially Dewdrop.

That’s why he left the outfit on when he moved to sit on Dew’s bed and sent him a text to meet him there as soon as he could. Rain sat leaning back on his hands, legs outstretched with his ankles crossed, head tilted slightly downwards, and waited.

It didn’t take long for his mate to burst through the door, at all. Dew stopped dead in his tracks realising just for what he was called there and he nearly passed out with how quick his heart started beating. Ifrit and Aether always drove him crazy with how their chests looked in these outfits, but they were theirs, made to fit them. But Rain in his?

Dewdrop can see everything, the slight swell of his chest, the muscles in his shoulders, his abs, his thighs. He could cum from staring at Rain alone, and he just might.

“H- hi,” Dew swallowed, not being able to even lift his eyes to look at his mate’s face, stuck on the stretch of the fabric over his chest. “Where- where’d you find it?”

“Oh, I was looking for something in your wardrobe,” Rain chuckled, very pleased with the fire ghoul’s reaction. “Got curious. You like how I look in it?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, coming closer and casted his eyes downwards to stare at Rain’s long, muscled legs. “It’s so tight.”

“It is. I sometimes forget how small you are,” the water ghoul sighed, looking at his flustered mate through his lashes.

Dew was long gone already, breathing heavily, deep flush on his cheeks, pupils blown wide. He was also fucking wet, already, soaking though his underwear quickly, and damn his light sweatpants.

“Oh, I can see how much you like it,” Rain giggled, pointing at Dew’s crotch where a wet patch was becoming more and more visible. “Come here, baby, show me.”

Dewdrop all but fell to his knees, crawling in between Rain’s when he spread them, grabbing at his thighs, kneading them. He moaned, high and wrecked, when he realised Rain wasn’t wearing underwear. Of course he wasn’t.

The fire ghoul shoved his head under the skirt, taking Rain’s cock down his throat in one smooth motion, both groaning.

“Yeah, like that,” Rain choked out, having to hold himself back already just from the feeling of Dew’s wet, hot mouth on him and the sight of his mate under the cassock. Dew’s hands were glued to the bassist’s legs, moving up and down, squishing his thighs and calves. He didn’t pull off of Rain's cock for even a moment, and the water ghoul was truly surprised that he didn’t suffocate, but it was Dew. Because it was Dew, it also took him a fairly short amount of time to bring his mate impossibly close to the edge, with his constant bobbing and sucking, “D- Dew, close.”

The fire ghoul only hummed in response, shooting a spike of white hot pleasure through Rain and he was cumming down his mate’s throat before he could even process what was happening. Dew sucked him dry, and pulled off only when Rain started twitching from overstimulation. He lifted his head with a blissed out, cock drunk grin, licking around his lips to catch the drops of the water ghoul’s cum that escaped.

“Good boy,” Rain breathed, flopping down onto his back. “Come here, I’ll eat you out.”

“No- no need,” Dew whispered, staying on the floor. Rain lifted himself up once more, staring down at the flushed ghoul.

“Did you…?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, seemingly very proud of himself, of coming untouched just from sucking Rain’s cock and seeing him in that fucking uniform. 

“Snuggles, then,” his mate giggled, beckoning him up to join him on the bed. “And maybe round two, later, but we switch positions. Want to see you in it.”

[dracarialove]

📄 F it, I'm posting my finished fics here, too 📄

Buried Desires

*Check the 'buried desires' tag if you haven't read chapter 1

[Chapter 4: Midnight Embrace]

While her best friend slept more soundly than she'd ever seen – lying on his side in a more relaxed pose than on his back in his typical stiff-straight posture – Rouge tended to her club and the patrons who floated in and out through the evening.

She checked on him periodically via the balcony door, but each time she only saw Shadow in a new sleeping position with his eyes still restfully shut. Whatever he'd been doused with, it had thoroughly knocked him out once he'd drifted off to sleep.

When her casino closed for the night, the bat started to get a tad worried about just how much he was sleeping. Twelve hours had passed between her business opening and closing, and her dear quiet crush still hadn't awoken to tell her he was okay.

Rouge approached his bedside and looked over the slumbering hedgehog, wringing her hands and studying his changed body language. It was the first time she'd witnessed him sleeping on his side, facing the wall with his hands cradling his chest and legs pulled up a little to bend at the knees.

She sat down on the edge of the mattress, filling the vacant crook behind his legs, and watched the spines on his back steadily raise and lower with his deep, slow breaths.

The side of his face that she could see looked peaceful, another new development; somehow, the Ultimate Lifeform had always seemed like he was scowling, even in his sleep.

She wondered if he was dreaming. Then she mulled on the question of whether or not he could've been permanently altered in some way because of their slip-up.

But in what way, if any? He still seemed like himself, even while struggling to focus. And he's the perfect being, anyway, Rouge deduced. His body and brain could handle a little mind-fuck, even if it had been kind of intense. He'd been through worse.

Nevertheless, she stayed where she was for a few more minutes, hesitating to wake him up herself, until he started to stir on his own. His body shifted to turn over, but dark-furred legs were halted by the barrier that was Rouge's back. The rest of him slowly twisted and his eyes cracked open.

Watching him wake up made the bat smile, and she spoke softly once red irises locked onto her face. "Welcome to the waking world. Your sleep schedule is fucked now."

Shadow couldn't see her perfectly in the dimness of the loft space, having to rub his eyes to get a clearer view after they'd been shut for so long. His voice was flat and husky when he asked, "What time is it?"

"Just after midnight. You slept through all the partying going on down below."

"I did?" He paused, lowering his hands to rest on his stomach and staring at the beautiful woman sitting beside him in the darkness. "That strange stuff had me more out of it than I thought."

Rouge sighed a little, before gathering the gumption to ask, "Shadow... do you remember much about what happened this morning?"

Nervous like she'd never been before, the jewel thief pointed the heart-shaped toes of her boots together while her heart rate rose in anticipation of his reply.

One of his legs still rested propped against her back while he lay casually. She saw his index finger tap thoughtfully on the glove beneath it and instinctually dreaded the few seconds of silence he made her suffer through.

The handsome hedgehog's brief hesitation served as his preparation to tell the truth, his heart also beating faster as he swallowed to wet his dry mouth.

"I remember everything," he answered, his tone a little sweeter than the neutral timbre he usually spoke in. "There's not a moment I can't recall."

Her worry soothed and she leaned closer to see him better. "And how do you feel now that it's over?"

"... Lighter. More free than I have in a long time." His eyes dropped from her face to her hand planted on the mattress; his own moved from resting atop his stomach to lay on top of her gloved fingers. "Though, I am concerned that I burdened you during our mission. I was useless towards the end of it and I'm sorry you had to get us out of there yourself."

"Well... it's true that I could've managed the task on my own," teased Rouge, a sly smile playing at the corner of her lips. "But I don't care about that. I'm just glad you came out of that weird state okay – I was worried for a bit there."

"Ah, Rouge," he started, shaking his head and smirking a little, "you worry about me entirely too much."

She feigned offense, balling her free hand into a fist against her hip. "And who else will, hm? Sorry, sir, but the Ultimate Lifeform will just have to accept that I care about his well-being."

Shadow exhaled a laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes. Then his partner lowered her unoccupied palm onto his hand, sandwiching it between hers, and changed the subject.

"You said a lot of stuff before. And you remember it now. But... did you mean it? Was that really you?"

The lounging Mobian's expression softened, though subtly enough that Rouge couldn't tell through the dim lighting. He repeated the way he'd sat up before he'd gone to sleep, pulling himself towards her and meeting her turquoise gaze more sincerely. His lips parted and the charming baritone of his deep voice came off assuring and certain.

"It was really me." He squeezed the hand under his. "And I meant all of it. Everything I did and said... I'd been thinking about it for a while before that."

His teammate's mouth widened into a relieved grin. "And you were too prideful to admit it before? Or shy?"

Shadow leaned closer, their muzzles a mere inch away from each other. "I don't know what I was... foolish, I suppose..."

The gap between them closed when Rouge leaned in, kissing him for the first time in a purely sober state. He recognized that it felt almost as good as the initial intoxicated smooch, his soul just as embraced by the confirmation that she wanted a deeper connection as he did – only without the wavery imbalance of his pumped-up nerves or the worrisome pound of a fiercely thumping heart.

It was much more calming this time around, more real as he could feel the soft, slick press of her lips for what it was instead of being hyper-sensitive to every slight grazing touch. Kissing his best friend was truly blissful.

Rouge also repeated her own action from the previous morning, leaning further to push Shadow back against the bed; but this time, she didn't pull away. His arms slipped around her waist and she kissed him a little harder, then broke it briefly to look into his eyes again. "You know, Shad..."

She trailed off and bit her lip, flashing sharp fangs as she betrayed the glee she felt with another grin. The dark man raised an eyebrow and let his smile creep upward, amused and intrigued as he spoke, "Yes? What's going on in that mischievous mind of yours?"

A chuckle slipped from Rouge's mouth and she twirled one finger into the patch of white fur on his chest. "Well... it's been a long time that we neglected to say anything about our feelings, right?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately."

"In that case," she said in a sultry tone, her bright teal eyes managing to twinkle even in the darkness, "we have a ton of lost time to make up for."

Shadow watched her expression change into the charming, seductive face he was used to, while she shifted her body to lift one leg over to the other side of his stagnant form. Hovering above him, Rouge cocked her head and stared a dreamy, lidded gaze at the relaxed hedgehog.

"What'ya say, sugar?" she muttered, her inquiry sounding a bit more like a statement than a question. "You wanna make this partnership a lot more exciting?"

It felt much more natural, being able to connect to the stunning lady with a clear head; and Shadow didn't want it any other way in that moment. The dim blanket of midnight made him feel more at ease, too. And being enticed by Rouge in this way was something he'd only dreamed of before.

Now there was no worry, no suffocating paranoia – and no question as to the answer the stoic lifeform had for her. Shadow enwrapped his arms around her more, pulling the alluring temptress closer before replying in a deep, buttery whisper.

"More than anything."

*Explicit 5th chapter only available on Ao3 for registered users