#as well as the tilt of her head not being quite right in mine

[andy-15-07]

Say Yes to Forever

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1697| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Warning: smut.

The restaurant hummed with quiet elegance, the dim candlelight flickering against the polished wood of the intimate booth Pedro had reserved. A soft jazz tune played in the background, mingling with the quiet murmur of other diners, but for Pedro, the world had shrunk down to the woman sitting across from him. Y/N. Seven years together, and still, looking at her made his heart stutter like it had the first time.

She was laughing softly at something he had said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The warmth of her gaze, the ease in the way she leaned toward him—it all felt like home. Pedro curled his fingers around his glass of wine, hiding the slight tremor in his hands. He had played warriors, kings, lovers, and villains, but nothing had ever made him as nervous as the tiny velvet box tucked inside his jacket pocket.

“You’re being weird,” Y/N said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at him with an amused smile. “You keep staring at me like I’m about to disappear.”

Pedro let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head as he considered her. “Can’t a man admire his beautiful girlfriend?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide the pleased flush creeping up her neck. “That’s not admiration, that’s—” She squinted at him playfully. “That’s plotting. What’s going on, Pascal?”

Damn, she knew him too well.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “Maybe I just want to soak in the moment. Seven years, cariño.” His voice softened. “Do you remember our first date?”

Y/N’s expression shifted into something more tender, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight. “Of course I do. You were late.”

Pedro groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Nope.” She grinned. “You were twenty minutes late, and I was convinced you had ghosted me.”

“I was filming, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased, lifting her wine glass to take a sip. “But then you showed up, all flustered and apologetic, and I decided to give you a chance.”

He smirked. “Lucky me.”

She reached across the table, lacing her fingers with his. “Yeah. Lucky us.”

Pedro felt his throat tighten. Seven years of stolen mornings, late-night conversations, endless laughter, and the kind of love that made him believe in forever. And tonight, he was going to ask her for exactly that.

His hand brushed against the ring box in his pocket, his pulse kicking up a notch.

It was time.

He took a steadying breath and smiled at her, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You know, I still can't believe you said yes to that second date."

Y/N chuckled, squeezing his hand. "You were persistent. And charming. And maybe a little bit of a mess."

"A little?" Pedro laughed, shaking his head. "I was a total mess. But you stuck around."

"Of course I did," she murmured, tilting her head. "You're my person, Pedro."

His heart swelled. "And you're mine."

The waiter approached with their dessert, a beautifully plated chocolate soufflé, but Pedro barely noticed. His focus was on her, on the love shining in her eyes. He inhaled deeply, shifting in his seat.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he started, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers slid into his pocket, closing around the velvet box. "Something really important."

Y/N arched a brow, setting her fork down. "Oh?"

Pedro exhaled a shaky breath and slowly pulled out the box, placing it between them on the table. The world seemed to still around them, everything fading except for the two of them and the moment that had been seven years in the making.

Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly. "Pedro..."

He pushed the box toward her, then slid off his seat and onto one knee, right there in the middle of the restaurant. A hush fell over the surrounding tables, but Pedro only saw her.

"Y/N," he began, his voice raw with emotion. "For seven years, you've been my best friend, my safe place, my greatest love. I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to imagine it."

Tears welled in her eyes, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping her lips.

He flipped open the box, revealing the delicate ring he'd spent months choosing, making sure it was perfect for her. "Marry me, cariño?"

For a moment, she was utterly still. Then, a radiant smile broke across her face, tears slipping down her cheeks. She let out a shaky laugh, nodding fervently. "Yes! Yes, Pedro, of course!"

The restaurant erupted in quiet applause, but Pedro barely heard it. He slid the ring onto her finger, hands trembling, before pulling her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss, warm and full of promise, sealing the moment forever.

As they pulled away, Y/N cupped his face, eyes shining. "I love you, Pedro."

He grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you more. Always."

The drive home was quiet, filled with lingering glances and intertwined fingers resting on Pedro’s lap. The streetlights painted golden streaks across Y/N’s skin, her engagement ring catching the glow every time she moved. He kept sneaking looks at her, grinning like a fool, his heart impossibly full.

As soon as they stepped into their home, Pedro reached for her, pulling her close. Music played softly from a speaker in the corner, something slow and familiar. He didn’t say a word, just took her hand and led her into the living room, swaying with her in the dim light.

Y/N rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “You’re really romantic when you want to be,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Only for you.”

They danced like that for a while, lost in each other. Every touch, every breath, every whispered ‘I love you’ was a promise of forever. And when he finally lifted her into his arms, carrying her upstairs, the night took on a different kind of tenderness.

In their bedroom, under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Pedro traced his fingers along her skin, memorizing every inch of her. There was no rush, only devotion in the way he touched her, kissed her, loved her. He unbuttoned her dress slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The fabric whispered to the floor, revealing her delicate lace bra. He paused, his breath catching in his throat, and gently unclasped it. Y/N reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers tracing the line of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his skin.

He pulled her close, their bodies flush against each other. His lips found hers in a slow, lingering kiss that deepened with every passing moment, a silent conversation of love and desire. He moved his hand down her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her closer still, their bodies molding together. She moaned softly against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He lifted her onto the bed, following her down, his gaze never breaking hers. He kissed her neck, his breath warm against her skin, then moved lower, his lips tracing a path down her chest, igniting a fire within her. She arched into him, meeting his gaze with a look of pure desire.

Pedro took his time, savoring every inch of her as if he were memorizing her all over again. His lips ghosted over her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts, before he took one hardened peak into his mouth, his tongue circling, teasing. She gasped, her back arching as his hands roamed lower, gripping her thighs, pulling them apart as he settled between them. His kisses grew more fervent, more insistent as he traced a path lower, his mouth exploring her in ways that made her whimper, her fingers digging into the sheets.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky. “I could stay here all night, making you fall apart over and over again.”

She moaned, her breath shaky. “Pedro… please.”

He smirked against her thigh, his fingers teasing her, making her hips lift instinctively. “Tell me what you want, querida.”

“I want you,” she gasped. “Inside me. Now.”

He moved back up, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. “You want me to fill you up?” he whispered against her mouth, his hands gripping her thighs, pressing her into the mattress. “You want me to fuck you so good you won’t be able to think straight?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her nails raking down his back. “I need you, Pedro.”

“You have me,” he growled, lining himself up with her. “Always.”

He entered her slowly, savoring the moment, their eyes locked, a silent exchange of love and longing. She gasped, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. He began to move, slowly at first, then faster, their bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as time, a dance of passion and surrender. Moans filled the room, mingling with the soft music playing in the background, a symphony of desire. He kissed her deeply, his hand stroking her hair, his touch both tender and demanding.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his pace quickening, pushing deeper, hitting all the right places. “So perfect for me.”

She cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders. “Harder, Pedro.”

His jaw clenched, his movements becoming rougher, more desperate, chasing both of their highs. “You’re mine, baby,” he gritted out. “All mine.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her body arching as pleasure overwhelmed her. “Yours.”

The sensations intensified, wave after wave washing over them, building to a crescendo, a moment of pure ecstasy, a shared release. He held her tightly as they both shattered, clinging to each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

When they finally lay tangled together, breathless and content, the silence was filled with unspoken words, with the weight of their love and commitment. Pedro kissed her bare shoulder, whispering, “Forever.”

Y/N smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Forever.”

[batman66sexyrogues]

Also, here is the reference image. I wasn't able to do her smile justice, but I feel like I did reasonably well on the look in her eyes here, especially for my first time drawing her in digital pastels and for not having drawn her in traditional media first.

Congratulations to our Twice-Crowned Queen!

Congratulations once again, to the Eartha Kitt Catwoman! Now two-time SexyRogue winner and easily one of the highlights of season three!

[lowkeyerror]

Help With The Curriculum Pt 4

Agatha x Rio x Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: Smut, choking, fingering, cunnulingus, daddy!kink, mommy!kink, dacryphilia, dirty talk, edging, mentions of overstimulation, begging degradation, praise

Summary: Rio gets herself a chance with you and Agatha. The only caveat is that she has to follow instructions and even then, she might not get a reward.

An: The Ao3 curse hit me, but part 4 (potentially last part) is here, hope you like it.

Previous Part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Y/n, wake up.”

You groan, snuggling further into Agatha’s warmth. She chuckles a bit, scratching the top of your head.

“Baby, you have to let me get up. I have to go home.”

That only causes you to hold her tighter, “No.”

She sighs, “I have class later, I have to go home to change.”

“Wear mine,” you mumble against her collarbone.

“You’d love seeing me in your clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You pull away from her and wipe your eyes, “What time is it?”

“6 am.”

You shake your head, “We’re college professors, 6am is high school teacher hours Agatha.”

“Well, I need time to go home and get ready. Someone didn’t want to let me go last night,” she gets up, causing you to sit up right in your bed.

“It was late, and besides your legs could’ve given out on the way over,” you tease her.

Agatha rolls her eyes, “Funny, I’ll see you on campus.”

“Wait,” you get out of bed clumsily, she laughs at your movements. “Let me walk you out.”

“Adorable.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you lead her to your front door.

“I have a gap around 2, if you want to do lunch?” She suggests and you nod.

“I’d like that,” you smile at her.

“Text me your order, I’ll pick it up,” she says and for a moment it feels like you’re both prolonging the goodbye.

You kiss her sweetly, not really wanting to stop, “You need to go before I take you back to my bedroom.”

You push her lightly out of the door. She starts walking to her car, but she turns back half way just to blow you a kiss. A small chuckle escapes you before you shoo her away with one last movement of your hand. You wait for her to drive off before going back inside your home.

Since you were awake so early you decided to make breakfast and get ready for work. By the time you were dressed and finished eating it was time for you to go.

Today was the day of the exam, so it was going to be relatively easy for you. You arrive to your classroom a bit early to make sure everything is set for the exam.

“Exam days always seem to drag on forever,” you lift your head at the sound of her voice.

“Professor Vidal, what do you want?” Your voice is dry when you speak to her.

“Think I made that quite obvious yesterday,” she stalks her way over to your desk.

“And why would I reward such a brat?”

She puts her hands behind her back and tilts her head. Her eyes get big and glossy, “But I’m a good girl.”

You could see why Agatha would easily cave in to the woman. She is hot; her body is damn near perfect and her beauty is undeniable.

“No you aren't, because here you are begging me like a needy slut. When we both know you should be talking to Agatha, instead,” you give her a pointed look.

“She doesn't want me anymore,” you hear a vulnerability that you aren't sure she meant to convey.

“Who said that?”

Rio frowns, “She did, literally yesterday. She told me to move on.”

You sigh taking a bit of pity on the woman, “Listen Rio, your problem is that you push too far. Agatha can't handle you being a brat all of the time. I don't think she wanted to end things with you, but if you're never going to listen to her, what's the point?”

“And you listen to her?”

You nod, “Of course, I listen to her, she listens to me.”

Rio focuses on the ground, “She listens to you. She never let me- I wanted to be in control sometimes.”

You cross your arms leaning back against the chair, “Sounds like a reward. I wonder if you could earn it, somehow?”

It's Rio’s turn to sigh, “I need to talk to her, don't I?”

You nod, “I think it’d benefit you.”

She groans, but make her way towards the exit, “You know, I'm not all bad Professor L/n.”

“I know, but you have some lessons to learn. Hopefully rewards to gain, Professor Vidal.”

When she leaves your eyes linger where she stood. It felt like she was the embodiment of temptation. You could imagine what she looked like bare, her look playful, and eager. You’re sure that her neediness clouded any sense of obedience in her body.

When the class piled in you gave them the exam instructions. While they were testing, you let your mind wander to what you could do with Rio. How you could help Agatha tame her.

You were thinking about it until it was time for lunch. Agatha said she would meet you in your classroom.

“What did you say to her?”

Agatha sits the food on your desk.

You shrug, “I told her she needed to talk to you, why?”

Agatha begins to take out the food, “She apologized for being such a brat all the time, said that what we had was important to her, and that she didn’t want to lose it.”

“And what did you say?”

Agatha sighs, “I told her that I wanted to believe her.”

“But…”

“But she would have to prove that she could be good.”

You take a sip of your drink, “And how should she do that?”

Agatha’s eyes met yours, “I was hoping you had some ideas.”

You smirk, “I’ve been brain storming since she left my classroom. I was thinking, maybe we could put on a little show for her, but the rules prohibit her from touching. If she lasts, she can have a reward, but if she can’t… we can give her a very memorable punishment. Thinking either edging or overstimulation. Depends on her attitude.”

Agatha levels with you, “I doubt she can hold out. I mean I doubt that I could if I was watching us fuck.”

You lean back in your chair, “This test isn't about her obedience, it’s about her willpower. I want to see how quickly she cracks, if she’s remorseful, or if she’s going to be disrespectful. If she meant what she said to you, she will try her hardest. Tell her to meet us Saturday at your place. I assume she knows where you live.”

Agatha snickers, “Why do I hear some jealousy in that last part?”

“I told you, I’m not fond of sharing. Don’t worry though, I plan to work through that when Rio’s watching me make you all desperate. I know what she wants from you Aggie, and I’m going to show her how much you love when I give it to you,” your jaw twitches slightly.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she begins to eat her food.

The days seem to pass slowly as anticipation builds inside of you. You’re excited but you don’t necessarily know if that’s appropriate. In truth you wouldn’t describe yourself as a naturally dominant person but something about being with Agatha and something about the thought of being with Rio really made you want to take control.

With Agatha there was much more of a give and take nature to your encounters. Sometimes you would be in control and sometimes you’d crumble under her gaze. However, with Rio’s needy eyes on you, you didn't know if it would be appropriate to crumble.

This time would be somewhat of an example for any times that would occur in the future. It was like you were setting a precedent for how things would unfold and whatever kind of relationship you decided to pursue. There was a lot of confliction inside of you the moment he saw her you did want to put her in her place. You were serious when you said you weren’t sharing but now you didn't know if that was true.

Was it really sharing if you had decided you wanted both?

“I can feel you thinking from here,” Agatha’s hand cups your face.

You’re both in her bedroom waiting for Rio to arrive. You let out a relaxed sigh as her thumb starts to caress your face.

“It feels silly, but I think I’m nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I know I was talking a big game, and that was real. I want this, I just don't want to fuck this up,” you admit.

“You’re adorable,” she says.

You whine, “Agatha.”

“Baby it’s not just you in here, I'm here too. I doubt you’ll struggle to preform because you haven't before this. In the case that you do, I’ll be here to get us back on track. Trust me?”

You nod and lean in to peck her lips, “I trust you.”

The doorbell rings breaking the endearing moment. You want to rush to the door but a gentle tug from Agatha has you walking at a slower pace.

“Compose yourself,” she whispers to you before opening the door.

Rio stands on Agatha’s porch in a short sundress. The nerves on her face are present, but she tampers them with a smile.

“Looks a little different than last time I was here,” Rio says peering into the house.

“You know I get bored with décor quickly,” Agatha says stepping aside to let her in.

“And how different is the bedroom?” Rio says slyly.

You speak up, “You should see for yourself.”

Rio hums at your words, making her way towards the bedroom. Agatha and yourself follow her side by side. When you’re all in the room, you’re the one to close the door.

There’s a tension in the air, anticipation of what will happen.

“So…”

“Sit in that chair,” you command Rio, before she can further speak.

She complies, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. You keep your eyes on her, “Good listening, today we’re going to see how long you can keep it up for. You’re going to sit here and watch while Agatha and I fuck. You aren't going to touch yourself at any point.”

Rio’s eyes darken, “And what do I get for sitting here?”

You tilt your head to the side, “Why would you get anything? This isn’t a reward, this is your case to Agatha that you can be a good girl, and follow simple instructions without being a brat.”

“I can be good.”

You grip her chin so she looks into your eyes, “I hope so because I think it would be fun to play with you.”

You kiss her cheek before turning your back to her and heading towards Agatha. You stand in front of her, eyes locked on each other. Your hands find the bottom of her shirt. You raise it slowly giving her a chance to stop you.

She doesn’t, when her shirts off your hands trail up her soft skin. You let out a shaky breath, trying to control your impulses. Your head dips down so that your tongue could swirl around one of her nipples. The other nipple was occupied in between your fingers.

Periodically you look up to take in the details of Agatha’s face. The light moans and delicate tensions on her face are not enough for you. You want more, you start to use your teeth and soon her breathy moans become more fleshed out.

Agatha couldn’t take any more of the teasing, she pulls your face up so that your lips meet. It’s hungry, and you swear her lips get softer every time you kiss them. You moan as she sucks on your bottom lip.

You hear a whimper in the corner of the room and you break from the kiss. Rio looks like she has a sweat building up on her forehead. You pull your shirt from over your head and see her eyes widen as she takes in your body.

You don’t miss the way her hands grip the chair. Agatha hugs you from behind, her hand traveling down your body with no hesitation in sight. You moan, keeping eye contact with Rio as Agatha’s hand disappears into your pants.

“You’re so wet for me baby,” she trails kisses up your neck.

“I need you,” you say bucking into her hand.

She guides you so that your back hits the wall. In a swift movement your pants are down and Agatha is on her knees. She spreads your legs and your breathing speeds up a bit.

You grab a handful of her hair and laugh lightly, “Isn’t this familiar?”

She chuckles the same, “Not until you start moaning professor.”

Her hands rest on your thigh as her tongue swipes through your folds. Your grip on her hair tightens, as her pace increases. She hums in satisfaction, not caring about how far her face is buried into your cunt.

“How you doing over there Vidal?” You manage to glance at her and she looks in utter discomfort. She doesn’t answer, “I asked you something.”

“S-soaked,” she grits out.

“Fuck, Aggie were you starving or something?” You feel your legs begin to shake a little from the intensity of her movements.

She pulls away, “You just taste so good.”

“Should we give her something?” You nod your head towards Rio.

Agatha nods, “Whatever your thinking, I’m in.”

Rio sighs believing that the challenge is over and that she’s won a reward. You smile sweetly at her, “Strip.”

Her clothes are gone in under a minute and she stands eagerly.

“Ok sit back down, you were a little uncomfortable in the clothes,” you speak dismissively before returning your attention to Agatha.

“You want to taste yourself?”

You nod, “And I need those fingers inside of me professor.”

“Suck,” Agatha pushes two fingers into your mouth.

You obey her and as soon as her fingers leave your mouth her lips are on yours again. As your kiss echoes in the room, she slides fingers into you.

You gasp in pleasures as she quickly begins to pump in and out of you. Her thumb finds your clit and you can barely keep up with the kiss. Your head falls onto her shoulder.

“You like when I burry my fingers in you, baby? The way my thumb presses down on your clit? Fuck, I can feel you clenching against me. You going to cum on my fingers that fast? God you’re needy today, or is it cause Rio’s watching? You want her to see how I make you cum.”

You lift your head from her shoulder just enough to look at Rio, “I want her t-to see what she can’t have.”

With her now naked you can see every little twitch her body makes. The look of anger on her face only makes you cum harder. Agatha fucks you through it, and as soon as she pulls her fingers out of you, you’re guiding her towards the bed.

You sit with your back against the headboard and Agatha sits in between your legs.

“Open for me baby,” she follows your instructions opening her legs.

One of your arms secure around her waist while the other rubs small circles around her clit. You give Rio a perfect view of Agatha’s dripping cunt.

“You ever have her like this Rio?”

Your fingers glide through Agatha’s folds in a teasing manner.

Rio shook her head, “N-no.”

You chuckle deeply as you plunge two fingers into her, “Oh Aggie, that's so mean of you. Never opened up for your little plaything?”

“Never earned it,” Agatha says breathlessly.

You can see Rio fix her mouth to say something, but she holds back.

“Speak up bunny, I want to know what's on your mind. You think you deserved something like this?”

Your fingers work faster, intoxicated by the sounds of Agatha’s hungry wet hole.

Rio begins to shake in her spot, “I wanted it so bad.”

“Wanted what?”

Her head drops, “To fuck Agatha. To have her whimpering because of me, to give her so much pleasure that she'd be drunk on it. Maybe, maybe I didn't earn it. Hell, I doubt that I deserved it, but I wanted it. She deserved to be worshiped and I thought that would've been enough.”

You can feel Agatha’s breathing quicken at the words, “If you can't handle instructions, you couldn't handle fucking me.”

Your thumb presses against her clit and she throws her head back. You begin sucking harshly on her neck as it becomes more accessible.

You lick a long stripe along her neck sparing a glance at Rio, “Beg for it Rio.”

She’s quick to fall to her knees unceremoniously. Her legs are shaking and you can see her arousal glistening down them. Her eyes are large and filled with tears.

Her voice is hoarse with need as she speaks, “Please, please. I-I can’t watch anymore, I need to- please. Tell me to do something, I’ll do it. I-I can be good. I can listen. I’ll do anything.”

You can feel Agatha clenching around your fingers as she watches Rio beg.

“More,” Agatha growls at Rio.

“Mommy please, I’m sorry. I should’ve listened. I shouldn’t have been so bratty. I was bad, but not anymore. Please, touch me. Let me touch you. Anything, please,” Rio cries fully now.

Agatha begins to rock her hips against your fingers, “Ask Y/n.”

“Daddy please, I’m sorry for being such a slut in your classroom. I need you, I’ll do better, I’ll be better. You don’t have to share, you can own me. Please, please, please.”

Agatha’s body jerks forward as she cums. Your arm around her waist is the only thing keeping her grounded. You slow your fingers, waiting for her to ride out her orgasm before removing them from her cunt. They find their way into her mouth and she sucks them delicately.

“Come here,” you murmur to Rio.

She stands, quickly walking over to you. You unhook your arm from around Agatha, using that hand to lightly grip Rio’s jaw. She nearly flinches in anticipation from your grasp.

You swipe at her tears with your thumb. Slowly you pull her face towards you while craning your neck up to her. You kiss her and it’s a fragile thing. You can feel her holding back. Trying to restrain herself, from taking more than you’re willing to give.

She whimpers into your mouth and her legs begin trembling even more than before. Your eyes widen and you break the kiss.

“Did you just cum?”

Rio’s face tints red with embarrassment, “I-I-"

Agatha intervenes lifting Rio before tossing her gently on the bed, “God, you’re so beautifully pathetic when you listen.”

“I want to taste her, she wants to taste you. I think we can all be winners here,” you look at the tanned woman in a predatory manner.

“Can you handle it baby? You couldn’t even manage a simple kiss, without making a mess of yourself,” Agatha questions her.

“Please, sit on my face mommy,” she pants out.

You decide to give Rio some relief, “Don’t hold back, but I’m telling you right now, I’m not stopping until Agatha cums again. So if you cum before her, we’re going to keep going, understand?”

She nods the best she can, “I understand.”

Agatha grabs Rio’s wrists, holding them above her. The older woman straddles Rio’s head, not loosening her tight hold on the submissive’s wrists.

“You know the signal if it’s too much,” Agatha speaks tenderly.

Again Rio nods the best she can.

That’s the only sign Agatha needs before fully sitting on the woman’s face.

Rio’s legs open for you with the sound of her sticky cunt echoing in your mind. She is absolutely drenched, you can see her clit twitching in anticipation. You can tell she’s sensitive, but you can’t help yourself.

Without hesitation you got straight to sucking her clit. Her back arches off of the bed, and you have to hold her legs in place. You can hear the low groan she let slip into Agatha, causing the other woman to grind down on Rio’s face.

Every calculated thought or worry that you previously had leaves your head as her taste seeps into your brain. All you want to do is make her cum. You eat her sloppily, not holding anything back. You can feel your jaw growing tired from how obsessively you’re eating her out.

You assume she’s doing the same to Agatha as the woman with the unoccupied mouth has not stopped making sounds since Rio’s face has been in her pussy.

When you finally detach your mouth from the woman, you stay close to her cunt. Letting your breath fan over her as you try to form any type of coherent thought.

“I understand why Agatha let you be a brat for so long. Your taste is so intoxicating baby, I just want to drown in it,” you say as you slide your middle finger into her.

You feel her cum instantly at the sensation and it makes your eyes roll back.

“You close professor?” You ask Agatha who only answers by nodding vigorously. “You’re going to give me one more then Rio.”

Feeling your own orgasm build, you began to feel needier. You want to feel Rio against you. So you change your position so that your cunt is aligned with hers. You hold one of her legs up and begin to grind against her.

The feeling of her hot sticky cunt rubbing against yours is bliss. You could feel her hips bucking into yours and it made you smile sadistically.

“Feels so good when you fuck yourself against me like that baby. Make us cum, like you begged for. Show us how desperate you are. Suck her clit, swirl your tongue around it, graze it with your teeth. Make her cum in your mouth, like the good girl you are. Don’t stop meeting my hips either, want you to show me you can multitask.”

Your words send Rio into a frenzy. She begins to speed up her movements, even though her body is fatigued. She works hard to send you both over the edge and she does.

Agatha cums first her hands abandoning Rio’s wrists to grab a fistful of her hair instead. She removes herself from atop of Rio only to meet the woman in a sloppy kiss. Rio doesn’t stop grinding against you even when fresh tears prick her eyes.

“Make daddy cum, baby,” Agatha kisses the top of Rio’s forehead moving stray hairs off of her face.

You fall apart at the same time Rio does, nearly collapsing against her. Agatha’s arms hold you up so you don’t flatten the woman beneath you. You can feel her squirt dripping down your abdomen, which sends a strong aftershock down your entire body.

“Fuck,” you say rubbing your hand against the mess she made on you.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, exhaustion hitting her like a truck.

You shake your head, “You’re perfect.”

Rio blushes and then cover her face with her hands.

Agatha laughs softly at her behavior, “Underneath all that bratty attitude, is one of the softest girls in the world.”

“You’re just a sweetheart trying uphold some bad boy image aren’t you,” you run your hand through Rio’s hair.

She leans into your touch, “I’m a badass.”

You indulge her for a moment, “For sure. I know plenty of badasses who beg mommy and daddy to fuck them.”

She shoots back at you, “Whatever you say miss ‘I don’t share’.”

Agatha intervenes, “As much as this bickering turns me on. I’d say it’s time to clean up, because I’m going to have to wash these sheets before sleeping tonight.”

“So now what?” You prompt.

“Aggie?” Rio’s voice holds a vulnerability to it, “Can I stay?”

Agatha looks at you, a small uncertainty passes through her.

“Let her stay, the brat is growing on me,” you say, smiling down at Rio.

“She tends to have that effect on people,” Agatha also gives her a small smile.

“We usually just eat and watch tv after the mind blowing sex, so don’t expect too much excitement Vidal,” you say, getting out of the bed.

Agatha follows suit and Rio just sits up.

“I’d offer to cook, but I don’t think I can stand right now,” she laughs.

“Do not worry professor, we’ll help get you all cleaned up,” you send her a cheeky wink, before scooping her up in your arms.

She yelps in surprise, but wraps her arms around your neck so she doesn’t fall.

“Well aren’t you charming?”

You smile, “So I’ve been told.”

True to your words, the three of you clean up. It’s a group effort as you shower, Rio seriously having trouble standing up right. Agatha lends you both some comfy clothes to lounge in and you find yourselves on her couch eating takeout and watching Glee (your request).

“So she sent that girl to a crack house?” Agatha questions.

“It’s inactive,” you and Rio say at the same time.

“You two might just be too similar,” Agatha chuckles.

You and Rio share a look.

“Good taste,” you say at the same time.

Agatha rolls her eyes, “A few hours together and she’s already corrupting you, Y/n.”

“I actually think you might be the biggest brat here Agatha. Lying about needing help with the curriculum just so I’d fuck you silly… pretty brat like behavior,” you retort.

Now it’s Agatha that is blushing and Rio who is cackling.

You smile innocently, taking in the moment. Though it’s unconventional, this is something that you hoped you wouldn’t lose. Moments like these that transcended the bedroom always put it into perspective for you. You wanted to build something with these women. Unbeknownst to you they both wanted that very same thing.

Next part

[allmoshnobrain]

You're a short girl, and sometimes that messes with your confidence. Your boyfriend doesn't seem to care at all, though.

✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, reader is short and it makes her a bit insecure

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing for anything other than metallica/megadeth/venom which is what i usually write for but i've been daydreaming a lot about this man and needed to get this out of my system 😭 also it was a great way to warm up and start writing again after my break!! hope u guys enjoy it 💖

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It takes him a while to pick up on your insecurity.

It's subtle, and honestly, he’s not exactly great with subtle. He fails, at first, to catch the way you pout, the way you frown whenever you see a hot actress who’s taller than you, or a long dress you think would look better on someone with a few more inches.

He finally catches on, though, one night when you’re cooking dinner. It’s kind of a slip up, really — a tiring day and your period cramps the worst they’ve been in the last few hours just making it easier for you to get upset over the smallest thing. So when you can’t reach one of the trays on the top shelf and have to ask him to grab it, he turns around to see you teary-eyed and upset, which is not how this usually goes.

“Love?” he asks, his brow furrowing when he sees your state “What’s wrong?” He glances at the glass tray in his hands. “Did I grab the wrong one?”

“What? No, no, it’s fine,” you mutter, his confused look quickly shifting into worry when he notices the tears in your eyes.

“Hey,” he quickly puts the tray down and gently grabs your chin. “Talk to me. What is it?”

He’s firm, straightforward but not harsh, which just makes you feel even more ridiculous for almost crying over something so dumb.

“I’m being silly,” you say, but he shakes his head. 

“Don’t say that,” he mutters. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

That last part sounds almost like a command, his voice all firm and serious — something that would probably annoy you if he didn’t sound so genuinely concerned. You sigh.

“I wish I was taller,” you whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but he does. Of course he does.

“You wish you were taller?” he repeats, now more confused than worried. “Why?”

“I just don’t want to feel useless, always needing your help,” you half-lie, because that’s not really it.  And of course, Simon knows — he always does. You can tell by the way he raises his eyebrow slightly at you, disarming you instantly. “I wish I was prettier,” you finally mutter.

“You are pretty,” he says slowly, like he’s still trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “You’re beautiful. And I like helping you.”

“But tall girls are… More beautiful,” you sniffle, and he snorts.

“Who said that?”

“I said,” you frown. “Like, every time I see a cute dress that’s too long, I just think I can’t wear it. It won’t look right on me. I always feel like I can only look cute, but sometimes I want to look, I don’t know, gorgeous. Tall girls just always seem to look gorgeous to me, and I...”

“Oh, shush,” Simon grumbles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. He tilts your chin up gently so you’re looking at him. “You are gorgeous. And you’re beautiful, and you’re mine. And I like you small — easier to hold.”

You can’t help but laugh. It’s shaky, and you try to hold it back, wanting to stay in your little pity party a bit longer. I mean, seriously, what does he mean by "you’re gorgeous" when you feel the exact opposite?

"Easier to hold?" you say, trying to sound offended but failing as a giggle slips out.

"There she is," he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth, and that’s when you realize you’re smiling. "My girl. Don’t be upset, love. You don’t need to be taller to be pretty. And if you ever need to reach for something, well, that’s what I’m here for."

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you tease. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Goddammit, woman. Will you quit trying to convince me you’re not beautiful? It’s not happening,” he frowns, then leans in, pressing a small, tender kiss to your lips. His arms wrapped around you are comfortable, warm and firm and feel like home.

It never fails to disarm you, how soft he can be. Out of the blue, always when you’re not really expecting it. Just when you think you’ve finally managed to annoy him or maybe this is the time he’s gonna get tired of you. He never fails to prove you wrong. 

He never fails to prove that he loves you, just the way you are.

[mercillery]

SUMMARY OF REQUEST: You, a half-blind witch, form a sibling-like bond with Luffy, Ace, and Sabo after a chance meeting in your childhood, sharing joyous moments together. However, when your magic accidentally destroys villagers’ homes, fear and guilt convince you that witches like you don’t belong in society. To protect the boys, you choose to leave them behind. Years later, they reunite with you—no longer the sweet, innocent sister they cherished but a feared “wicked witch,” shaped by the world’s rejection. Luffy, Ace, and Sabo, now fiercely protective of you, refuse to let you go again, regardless of what it takes.

NOTES: Sorry this took so long! I hope I pulled off the platonic Yandere thing well. It’s been a while since I’ve written, haha.

WARNINGS: FEMALE READER + NOT PROOFREAD

You, a half-blind young witch with a knack for avoiding trouble (or so you tell yourself), are peacefully gathering herbs in the forest near Grey Terminal. You’re humming a little tune under your breath, your wand at the ready as you delicately pluck some rare leaves off a bush. The goal is simple: stay hidden, avoid the villagers who already think you’re the star of some horror story, and keep your magic under wraps.

Easy, right? Wrong.

Because when you least expect it, the whirlwind trio known as Luffy, Sabo, and Ace quite literally crash into your life.

It starts with Luffy, because of course, it does. You’re mid-spell—probably something harmless like mending a torn leaf—when you hear an enthusiastic, “HEY! What are you doing with that stick?!” His voice is so loud it might as well echo across the entire forest.

You whip around in shock, clutching your wand like it’s your lifeline. Luffy’s wide-eyed grin is already locked onto you like he’s just found the coolest treasure in the East Blue. “Wait, is that magic? Can you make me fly?!” he continues, completely ignoring the obvious panic on your face.

Sabo, ever the voice of reason, walks up behind him, his hat tilted slightly as he gives you a calm, reassuring smile. “Luffy, maybe don’t freak her out, okay? Look, you’re scaring her.” Then he turns to you, hands raised like he’s trying to show you he’s not a threat. “Hey, sorry about him. He’s just… loud. Really loud.”

But you can tell even Sabo is curious. His sharp eyes keep flicking toward your wand like he’s trying to figure out how it works. He’s calm, sure, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that says, Tell me your secrets, and I’ll tell you mine.

Then there’s Ace.

While Luffy’s practically bouncing in place and Sabo’s trying to play mediator, Ace hangs back with his arms crossed, leaning against a tree. He’s doing his best to look disinterested, but his glances toward you are far from subtle. He’s clearly curious too, but his pride won’t let him admit it.

Instead, he grumbles under his breath, “It’s just a stick. What’s the big deal?” But then he catches you shrinking back a little, clutching your wand like it’s a shield, and his expression softens just a fraction. He doesn’t say it out loud, but his thoughts are something like, If these idiots scare her off, I’ll bonk their heads.

You, meanwhile, are frozen. These three boys are loud, chaotic, and way too close for comfort. You’re used to being the weird girl that everyone avoids, not someone who suddenly has an audience. You keep your head down, trying to mumble some excuse about just gathering herbs, but Luffy isn’t having it.

“Why are you hiding your face? Are you a witch or something?!” he blurts out, completely ruining your subtle attempt to slip away unnoticed. Sabo smacks him on the head with a look that screams, Seriously? Did you have to say that?

But despite your nervousness, you can’t help but notice that they’re… different. Chaotic, definitely. But still different nonetheless.

Luffy’s unrelenting cheerfulness and total lack of judgment start to chip away at your defenses. He keeps firing off questions: “Can you turn me into a frog? What about Ace? He’d make a funny frog.” He’s impossible to ignore, and before you know it, you find yourself giggling—just a little—at his antics.

Sabo, ever observant, notices your hesitation and starts asking gentler questions, like, “So how’d you learn to use magic?” or “What are you gathering the herbs for?” He’s patient, waiting for you to answer in your own time, and you start to feel like maybe he really wants to understand.

Ace is the last to come around, but when he does, it’s in his own blunt, awkward way. “You don’t need to be scared of us,” he says one day, still leaning against that same tree, watching you quietly. “We’re not like those villagers. And if anyone bothers you, I’ll punch ‘em.” It’s not exactly poetry, but it’s enough to make you feel like maybe you don’t have to hide from them.

Over time, the three of them settle into their roles as your self-appointed guardians. Luffy is the overenthusiastic protector, ready to fight anyone who looks at you funny. “She’s my little sister now!” he declares one day, completely out of the blue.

Sabo, the logical one, tries to reign Luffy in but still makes it his mission to teach you things like self-defense and how to stand up for yourself.

Ace, though still a little gruff, is fiercely protective, always keeping an eye out for trouble—even if it means starting a fight before one even begins.

From the moment you meet the trio, they decide you're their little sister. It’s not a question, not something you get to vote on—it’s just a fact now.

“You’re stuck with us,” Luffy announces proudly one day, grinning from ear to ear. You try to argue, maybe mumble something about being fine on your own, but it’s like talking to a brick wall with too much energy???

The more time you spend with them, the more you realize that, half-blind or not, witch or not, these three couldn’t care less about the things that made you feel like an outcast. Instead, they admire you for it.

Luffy is your personal cheerleader. He’s constantly pestering you to show off your magic, bouncing in excitement every time you do. “Do the thing again! The flower thing! That was so cool!” he demands, eyes sparkling. If you try to argue that it’s not a big deal, he pouts like a child denied dessert.

The second you cave and make something levitate or bloom, he cheers so loudly it startles the birds. “You’re so cool!” he shouts, clapping like you just won the World Cup.

Ace, of course, is Ace. He teases you relentlessly, calling you a “little show-off” whenever Luffy gets his way and you perform some magical trick. But there’s an undertone to his teasing that’s almost… proud.

He’ll smirk and say something like, “Guess you’re not completely useless, huh?” but the next thing you know, he’s nudging you and whispering, “Hey, can you teach me how to do that? But don’t tell Luffy—I don’t need him getting ideas.” He even goes out of his way to help you practice in secret, keeping an eye out for nosy villagers while you experiment with spells.

And then there’s Sabo. Ever the curious intellectual, he bombards you with questions about witchcraft. “So how does it work? Is it instinct or something you have to study? What’s the difference between a potion and a spell?”

He listens intently to every answer, nodding like he’s filing the information away for future use. You suspect he’s secretly trying to find a way to combine your magic with his own cunning plans, but you let it slide. At least someone respects your craft in a way that feels… academic.

The three of them quickly become your fiercest protectors. Any time someone in the village so much as mutters the word “witch” in a tone that isn’t pure reverence, Luffy is already halfway to throwing hands. “What did you say about her?!” he yells, fists up and ready.

Ace isn’t much better—he glares daggers at anyone who dares insult you, his body practically radiating heat like he’s daring them to try something.

Sabo, ever the peacemaker, steps in to smooth things over. But even he isn’t above reminding people to watch their tongues, even if he’s a little kid.

And then there’s Ace’s quiet gestures of care. He has this uncanny ability to position himself exactly where your blind eye is, like he’s made it his personal mission to act as your missing sight.

If you’re sitting and eating together, he’ll subtly take the spot where your blind side faces, keeping watch without making a big deal about it. If you ask him about it, he’ll just shrug and mumble, “What? Someone’s gotta make sure nothing sneaks up on you.” It’s his way of protecting you without drawing too much attention to it—well, that, and he secretly likes knowing you trust him to have your back.

The four of you became a force of nature—barefoot chaos tearing through the forests, climbing trees, and building treehouses that somehow always managed to collapse halfway through construction because, surprise, Luffy would decide mid-project that “we should add a slide!” or “what if we make it taller so it touches the clouds?!”

Despite the structural failures, those rickety treehouses became your safe havens, filled with laughter, scraps of stolen food, and the occasional argument over who got to sit in the “cool corner.” Sneaking into the Grey Terminal became your second favorite activity—after surviving the treehouse disasters, of course. For the first time in your life, you didn’t feel like “the blind witch” or an outsider; you were just you.

The boys never treated your blindness or magic as weaknesses—instead, they were quirks they’d hype up endlessly. Ace would nudge you and go, “C’mon, show me that spell again. You know, the one that made Luffy trip over his own feet for an hour.”

Sabo, ever the strategist, decided to take a more practical approach: “You should learn to fight with a pipe like me,” he said one day, handing you one. “Imagine if you combined magic and combat. You’d be unbeatable!” Of course, this idea got Luffy so hyped that he tried to fight both of you at once. It ended with him tangled in vines after you accidentally cast a spell mid-sparring session.

And Luffy? Oh, Luffy was a one-man cheer squad who took his role very seriously. He’d bounce around like a rubber ball, practically yelling, “Do something cool! Do something cool!” every time you so much as looked at your wand. If you didn’t comply fast enough, he’d lean in way too close with a giant grin and plead, “Pleeeeeeease?” until you caved.

On one memorable occasion, you enchanted a stick to bop him on the head every time he spoke. Instead of being mad, he laughed so hard he cried, running in circles and yelling, “IT’S ALIVE! THIS IS AWESOME!” Sabo and Ace had to physically hold him down to stop him from naming it and keeping it as a pet.

Ace, ever the “cool big brother,” tried to play it off like he wasn’t as impressed by your magic. “Yeah, it’s okay, I guess,” he’d say with a smirk before sneaking over later to ask if you could enchant his pipe or teach him a spell.

Despite his teasing, he was the most protective of your abilities. If anyone so much as looked at you funny for being a witch, Ace would give them the most nastiest glare a child could give. And if they dared to say something out loud? Oh, boy. Let’s just say the villagers learned quickly to keep their opinions to themselves when Ace was around. He’s got a mean mouth too.

Despite the chaos and the bickering, the boys loved your optimistic view of the world. You’d sit together under the stars, your eyes shining with hope as you said things like, “Maybe one day, they’ll see witches aren’t all bad.”

Luffy would nod so earnestly it made you smile. “Yeah! And if they don’t, I’ll just punch ‘em until they do!” he’d declare with his trademark confidence. Sabo would chuckle, resting his chin in his hand. “Or we could change their minds without violence. That tends to work better,” he’d add, though his smile always carried a hint of mischief. And Ace? He’d ruffle your hair in that big-brother way of his and say, “Don’t worry about them. We’ve got your back, and that’s all you’ll ever need.”

No matter how bleak things looked, they made sure you never lost that spark of hope. “We’ll make the world better for you,” Sabo promised one night, his voice soft but sure. “For all of us.” Ace nodded, his expression unusually serious. “And anyone who tries to hurt you? They’ll have to deal with us first.” Luffy, of course, chimed in last, his voice full of unshakable determination. “You’re never gonna be alone again! We’re your big brothers now, and that means forever!”

For the first time in forever, you believed it.

One fateful day, your world turned upside down in a way none of you could have foreseen. You were playing near the edge of the village with your three chaos-bringers-turned-big-brothers, attempting a new spell you’d seen in an old grimoire.

It was meant to be harmless—a little flick of your wand, a few whispered words, and voilà! A flower blooming out of season. Easy, right? Wrong. Maybe it was the pressure of your brothers cheering (read: screaming) in the background, or maybe it was the rock a villager hurled at you while yelling, "Get out of here, witch!" Either way, your concentration shattered, and the spell spun wildly out of control.

The explosion that followed wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to leave a crater in the ground and send a nearby chicken coop flying into the air like some bizarre farm-themed firework display. Several homes suffered damage too, their walls splintering from the force, and villagers scrambled in terror. It was chaos—absolute chaos—and in the middle of it all, you stood frozen, your wand trembling in your hand, horrified at what had just happened.

“I—I didn’t mean to," you stammered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you turned toward the villagers. “I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean to!” But they weren’t listening. To them, this wasn’t an accident. It was proof—proof that the strange little witch-child was dangerous and couldn’t be trusted. Their fear quickly turned to anger, and soon a mob was forming, voices shouting things like, “She’s a menace!” and “She’ll destroy the whole village if we let her stay!”

Luffy’s response was as immediate as it was predictable: rage. “HEY, SHUT UP!” he yelled, stomping toward the crowd with all the righteous fury a child could muster. “It’s not her fault! She didn’t do anything wrong!” He planted himself firmly between you and the mob, his small fists clenched at his sides, his face red with anger. “You’re all just a bunch of jerks!” he added for good measure, as if that would settle the matter.

Sabo, the ever-calm strategist, tried a different approach. “Please, listen,” he said, stepping forward with his hands raised in a gesture of peace. “It was an accident, okay? She didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” His voice was steady, reasonable, the kind of voice that made people want to stop and think. Unfortunately, reason didn’t stand much of a chance against an angry mob.

Ace, however, wasn’t interested in reasoning. While Sabo tried to talk sense into the villagers and Luffy yelled at anyone who dared to interrupt, Ace grabbed a stick from the ground, his eyes blazing with determination. “If any of you so much as look at her wrong, you’ll have to go through me first,” he growled, positioning himself directly in front of you. Despite his small stature, he looked every bit the future fire-wielding pirate he’d one day become.

The three of them stood their ground like a tiny, scrappy army of misfits. Luffy stomped his foot and shouted threats at anyone who dared to step closer. Sabo spoke with a diplomat’s calm, though his clenched fists betrayed his growing frustration. And Ace? Ace was ready to fight. If anyone so much as twitched in your direction, that stick in his hand was going to meet its mark.

Despite being just kids, they were unyielding, their loyalty to you outweighing any fear they might have felt. Luffy’s voice cracked as he shouted, “You’re not taking her! She’s our sister, and we’re gonna protect her no matter what!” Sabo, still trying to be the reasonable one, added, “If you force her to leave, you’re making a mistake. She’s not dangerous—she’s kind!” Ace, of course, kept it blunt: “If you lay a finger on her, I’ll beat you into next week.”

Despite everything the boys had done to defend you, the guilt gnawed away at you like a parasite. The villagers’ words echoed in your mind, cruel and unrelenting: “You don’t belong here. You’re a danger to everyone around you.”

No matter how much Luffy’s loud assurances, Sabo’s calm reasoning, or Ace’s fierce protection tried to drown out those accusations, they clung to you like a curse. You believed it all, convinced that you were the problem. Worse, you feared that by staying, you’d drag the boys into even more trouble.

The thought of them getting hurt because of you—it was unbearable. You imagined Luffy throwing himself into yet another fight on your behalf, Sabo pleading with people who wouldn’t listen, and Ace taking on an entire mob with nothing but his fists and his righteous fury.

Late that night, when the forest was dark and the only sounds were the rustling leaves and distant chirps of crickets, you slipped away. The moonlight guided your trembling hands as you scribbled out a tear-soaked letter. You kept it short but heartfelt, explaining your reasons:

“I can’t stay. I’m too dangerous. I love you three so much, but I can’t keep putting you in harm’s way. I need to find somewhere I can belong, somewhere I won’t hurt anyone. Please don’t come looking for me. I’m so sorry. Please take care of each other.”

You folded the letter carefully, as though it were the last piece of you you could leave behind, and placed it where you knew they’d find it. Then, clutching your wand and what little you could carry, you walked into the shadows of the forest. With every step, your chest ached as if someone had taken your heart and squeezed it until it couldn’t bear the pain anymore.

Morning came, and chaos erupted the moment they realized you were gone. Luffy was the first to notice, and his reaction was classic Luffy—pure, unrestrained emotion.

He bolted out of the treehouse, running in frantic circles as he yelled your name at the top of his lungs. When his search turned up nothing, the tears started, big, fat droplets streaming down his face as he wailed, “SHE LEFT US! SHE LEFT ME!”

Sabo tried to be the calm one, but even he was visibly shaken, clutching your letter in his hands so tightly it crumpled. His voice cracked as he read your words aloud to Ace and Luffy, his composure slipping with every sentence. “She… she thinks she’s dangerous,” he muttered, his usually steady voice trembling. “She thinks she’s protecting us by leaving.” His hands balled into fists, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of anger behind his calm demeanor. “I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve stopped her.”

Ace, on the other hand, was a storm brewing on the horizon. He stood there silently for a long moment after hearing your letter, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he grabbed a stick and smashed it against the nearest tree. “This is all their fault!” he snarled, referring to the villagers who had driven you to this point. His hands shook with barely-contained rage as he glared at the horizon, as if daring the universe to throw another obstacle in his way. “They did this. Not her. And now she’s gone because of them!”

But even in his anger, Ace’s determination shone through. He turned to Sabo and Luffy, his voice steady but fierce. “We’re going to find her. One day, no matter how far she goes, we’re bringing her back.”

“Yeah!” Luffy sobbed, his fists clenched tightly. “We’re not gonna let her go forever! She’s our sister!” His face was red and blotchy, tears still spilling as he stomped his foot for emphasis. “We’ll get her back, and then I’m gonna make her promise to stay forever!”

Sabo nodded, his usual composed demeanor replaced with quiet resolve. “She belongs with us. And we’ll make sure she knows that, no matter how long it takes.”

From that day forward, it became an unspoken vow between the three of them. They didn’t know when or how, but they would find you again. Ace reminded them of it constantly, his fiery determination keeping their spirits high. Luffy, as always, wore his heart on his sleeve, loudly declaring to anyone who would listen that he had a sister and he was going to find her someday. And Sabo, ever the planner, quietly began preparing, mapping out potential paths you might have taken and thinking of how they’d convince you to return.

You may have walked away that night thinking you were doing what was best for them, but little did you know, those three boys had made you a promise—a promise that no distance, no obstacle, and no force in the world could ever break.

After leaving your childhood behind, you wandered aimlessly through endless forests, dark swamps, and towering mountains, each step taking you farther from the trio who once made you feel like you mattered. Surviving alone as a child wasn’t just hard—it was soul-crushing.

Nights were the worst. The silence was so loud it drowned out your thoughts, leaving you alone with memories of Luffy’s laughter, Ace’s teasing smirk, and Sabo’s reassuring words. Those memories had once been a source of comfort, a little spark of warmth to get you through the cold. But as the years went on, they became a cruel reminder of what you lost.

At first, you clung to their love like a lifeline, hoping it could fill the hole in your heart. But reality was unforgiving. You met villagers who screamed at the sight of you, merchants who refused to sell you food, and travelers who spat cruel words at the mention of witches. No matter how small your magic or kind your intentions, people feared you. And fear always turned to hatred.

Slowly, their hatred began to drown out the lingering love you once felt from Sabo, Ace, and Luffy. Every cruel word, every stone thrown, chipped away at the sweet, optimistic child you had been. You started believing what the world seemed so desperate to prove: that you were unworthy of love, unworthy of kindness, and destined to walk alone.

Eventually, you gave up trying to prove yourself.

If the world wanted you to be a monster, then fine—you’d be a monster. You threw yourself into your magic, pushing its limits until it felt like the only thing that couldn’t hurt you. Spells that once brought you joy—like making flowers bloom or levitating tiny objects—were replaced with defensive barriers, fire conjurations, and illusions so terrifying they could make the bravest soul flee. You weren’t practicing to entertain anyone anymore. You were practicing to survive.

With every spell you perfected, a little more of your warmth faded away. By the time you reached adulthood, the hopeful dreams of your childhood had been buried beneath layers of bitterness and fear. Helping others was no longer your goal—protecting yourself was. If people feared you, at least they wouldn’t come close enough to hurt you.

Your appearance changed with your growing power and isolation. Gone were cheerful smiles of your youth. Instead, you donned long, flowing robes of dark green and black, their edges frayed from years of wandering. Your blind eye, once a source of insecurity, now became a symbol of your transformation. It faintly glowed when you used your magic, an eerie light that only added to your intimidating presence. Your gaze, once soft and full of curiosity, had hardened into something cold and unyielding.

Stories of the "wicked witch" began spreading like wildfire. They whispered of a woman who lived deep in the mountains, wielding magic so powerful it could summon storms or make crops wither. Some said you cursed anyone who dared enter your domain. Others claimed you were the reason children went missing or villages mysteriously disappeared. Of course, none of it was true—well, most of it wasn’t true. But you didn’t care to correct the rumors. If they kept people away, all the better.

You told yourself this isolation was for the best. The farther people stayed from you, the safer they’d be. And maybe you believed that, at least at first. But there were nights—rare, fleeting nights—when the old memories crept back in.

You’d find yourself staring at the stars, thinking of how Luffy used to point out constellations with his tiny, sticky hands. Or you’d hear the crackle of a fire and remember Ace’s mischievous grin as he dared you to roast marshmallows with magic. Or maybe you’d see your reflection in a still pond and hear Sabo’s gentle voice saying, “You’re not dangerous. You’re just you.”

Those memories hurt more than any stone or insult ever could. Because deep down, you knew the truth. You weren’t the monster the world painted you to be. But it was easier to live as the wicked witch than to let anyone close enough to hurt you again. So you embraced the role, burying your longing for love and acceptance beneath layers of bitterness and pride.

The years didn’t dim their determination. From the moment you vanished, Luffy, Sabo, and Ace vowed to find you, no matter how long it took. You were their sibling, the missing piece of their chaotic trio-turned-quartet, and the idea of leaving you out there alone—especially in a world that didn’t understand or accept you—was unthinkable.

Sure, life moved on, and they had their own battles to fight, but every step they took, every new place they explored, carried the same question: Could you be here?

When they finally found you, it wasn’t a tearful, joyous reunion like they had imagined countless times. No, the figure standing before them—dark robes, piercing gaze, blind eye faintly glowing in the dim light—was a far cry from the sweet, hopeful sibling they had grown up with. The “wicked witch” they had heard whispered about in fear and awe was unmistakably you, but the change was so drastic, it made their chests ache.

Naturally, Luffy was the first to act, because of course he was. Despite the eerie vibe you gave off, despite the cold, unreadable look in your eyes, he threw caution to the wind. “IT’S YOU!!!” he yelled, his voice ringing through the air like a cannon blast. Before you could even blink, he launched himself at you like a human missile, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. His grin was as bright as ever, but it faltered when you didn’t react, your arms hanging limp at your sides.

“Get off me,” you said flatly, your voice sharp enough to cut through the moment.

Luffy blinked, his smile faltering. “Huh? But—it’s me! It’s Luffy! Remember?” His arms stayed locked around you, though, like if he let go, you might disappear again.

Sabo approached next, his heart twisting at the sight of you. He could tell from the way you stood, your guarded posture and the steely edge in your voice, that life had hardened you in ways he and the others couldn’t begin to imagine. Still, he wasn’t ready to give up. “It’s been a long time,” he said softly, his tone carefully measured. “We’ve been looking for you all these years. You’re—well, you’re different, but you’re still you, right? You’re still our little sibling.”

“No,” you snapped, your voice colder than the frost in the mountains you now called home. “Stop calling me that.”

That’s when Ace stepped forward, his jaw tight and his fists clenched at his sides. “Why?” he demanded, his voice filled with the frustration and heartbreak he had bottled up for years. “Why did you leave us? We know what the letter said, but that’s not good enough. I want to hear it from you. The real reason.”

Your gaze flickered to him, a flash of emotion—guilt, maybe, or regret—briefly breaking through your hardened exterior before you quickly masked it. “I left because I had to. Because people like me don’t get to have happy endings. I would’ve just dragged you down. Don’t you get it? You were better off without me.”

Luffy, of course, shook his head so furiously it was a wonder it didn’t fall off. “That’s not true! You’re wrong! We’re better with you! You’re our family, and family doesn’t leave family behind!”

“We’re not kids anymore,” you retorted, your voice laced with bitterness. “You can’t just fix everything with hugs and stubbornness, Luffy. I’m not the person you remember. I’ve accepted who I am—what I am. I don’t need your protection, and I definitely don’t need your pity.”

Sabo’s heart ached at your words, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he stepped closer, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s not pity. It’s love. And it’s not something you can just turn off, no matter how much you try to push us away.”

Ace, his frustration reaching its peak, finally snapped. “You’re not fooling us. I don’t care how powerful or scary you think you’ve become—beneath all that, you’re still the same person who used to trip over her own feet trying to show off her magic. You’re still our sister, and we’re not leaving without you.”

His words struck a nerve, and for a split second, the mask you wore so carefully slipped. The memories they stirred—the laughter, the teasing, the warmth—hit you like a tidal wave. But you quickly pushed it all down, shoving the emotions back into the box you had sealed away years ago.

“You don’t understand,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less firm. “You can’t just barge in here and expect everything to go back to the way it was. I’ve changed. You should’ve let me go.”

Deep down, though, their presence stirred something in you—something you thought you had buried for good. For the first time in years, the icy walls you had built around yourself felt like they were beginning to crack. But you weren’t ready to let them in, not yet. So you turned away, your heart aching as you whispered, “Just go. Please.”

Luffy, of course, refused to let go of you, clinging to you like a stubborn child. Sabo’s eyes softened with understanding but also sadness, and Ace clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. It’s not that he’s upset with you, he’s more so upset with what the world has done to you to make you this cold. But they didn’t care how long it took. They weren’t going anywhere. They’d lost you once, and they weren’t about to let it happen again.

Luffy, as always, is the most relentless. No matter how many times you tell him to leave, no matter how coldly you speak or how fiercely you use your magic to push him away—he keeps coming back. Even if you send him flying through the air with a gust of wind or trap him in vines, he shows up minutes later, scratched and dirty but grinning as if nothing happened.

“I’m not leaving!” he shouts, planting his feet firmly on the ground. “You can throw me, trap me, or zap me—I don’t care! You’re my family, and I’m not losing you again!”

His determination is maddening, but it’s also heartbreakingly familiar. Deep down, it stirs something in you, a flicker of the bond you thought you’d severed long ago. But you shove the feeling aside, insisting that it’s better this way. Yet, Luffy’s persistence never wavers. He follows you everywhere like an overgrown puppy, his sheer presence a constant reminder of the love you’ve tried so hard to forget.

Sabo, ever the strategist, takes a different approach. He doesn’t push or demand; instead, he quietly works his way back into your life. He’s always nearby, watching, waiting, making sure you’re safe. He uses his calm demeanor and sharp intellect to subtly manipulate situations, ensuring you never feel completely alone.

“We don’t have to talk about the past,” he says one evening, his voice gentle as he sits near you by a crackling fire. “I just want to be here, that’s all. No expectations, no pressure.”

He gives you space when you need it, offering his presence as a steady anchor rather than a demand for reconciliation. Still, his unwavering kindness wears down your defenses bit by bit, even if you don’t want to admit it.

Ace is as fiery as ever, his protectiveness dialed up to an almost overwhelming level. Anyone who dares speak ill of you—whether they call you the “wicked witch” or something worse—immediately faces his wrath. He doesn’t hesitate to threaten them, his fists clenched and his fiery abilities ready to strike if needed.

“Say that again,” he growls at one unfortunate villager who muttered something under their breath. “I dare you.”

Around you, though, Ace’s fierce demeanor softens, though his protectiveness remains just as strong. He still instinctively positions himself on your blind side, just like he did when you were kids, standing in the perfect spot so he can “be your eye.” It’s a small, endearing gesture that tugs at your heart every time, no matter how much you try to ignore it.

“You don’t have to do that,” you murmur one day, your voice quieter than usual.

“Yes, I do,” Ace replies firmly, his expression softening as he looks at you. “I’ve always done it, and I’m not stopping now. I’m not letting you face anything alone—not ever again.”

No matter how much you try to push them away, they refuse to give up. Luffy’s relentless optimism, Sabo’s quiet persistence, and Ace’s fierce protectiveness create a barrier you can’t seem to break through. Slowly but surely, they chip away at the icy walls you’ve built around yourself, their love and determination refusing to fade.

The brothers' determination eventually cracks the ice around your heart, their love and loyalty proving stronger than the bitterness and pain you’ve clung to for so long. Slowly but surely, they remind you of the person you used to be—the kind-hearted, optimistic sibling who once dreamed of helping others. Though it’s not easy, you begin to let them back in, allowing yourself to feel the warmth of their bond again.

They don’t just offer you their love—they offer you protection, in every sense of the word. They stand beside you as you begin using your magic for good again, shielding you from the judgment of others and reassuring you that you’ll never have to face the cruelty of the world alone. Luffy’s boundless enthusiasm reignites your hope, Sabo’s steady support grounds you, and Ace’s fiery devotion reminds you that you’re worth fighting for.

“You don’t have to do it all yourself,” Sabo tells you one day, his voice steady but warm. “We’re here, and we always will be.”

“And if anyone has a problem with you,” Ace adds, cracking his knuckles, “they’re gonna have a problem with us first.”

“Yeah!” Luffy chimes in, throwing his arms around you with his usual exuberance. “You’re stuck with us now, and no one’s taking you away!”

Their protectiveness becomes almost comical at times, but you know it comes from a place of love. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, they’re immediately on high alert.

Villagers whisper about how the “wicked witch” has terrifyingly powerful guardians now, and anyone foolish enough to test that quickly regrets it. One unfortunate soul who dared insult you was swiftly met with Ace’s fire, Luffy’s fists, and Sabo’s calculated fury. Let’s just say they didn’t make that mistake twice.

Honestly, everything is back to normal. Ace is back, Sabo is back, Luffy is back, and it feels like the old cheerful days. This time, however, there’s no leaving. No tearful goodbyes, no lonely nights wandering through forests, no self-loathing letters explaining why you had to go. They’ve made it clear: you’re staying, no matter what. Either you stay with them or they follow you around endlessly.

“We’re stronger now,” Ace says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “And we’re never letting you go again.” Luffy nods enthusiastically, while Sabo places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. They don’t just say it—they prove it, every day, with their unwavering loyalty and love.

Though this means they likely don’t let you out of their sights for even a nanosecond, you feel like you’ve truly found your place again. The darkness of your past doesn’t disappear, but with your brothers by your side, it becomes easier to face.

[moonstruckme]

Mae! I have a request that I am really hoping you can do!

Emt! Marauders with reader that is admitted to the hospital because she is very sick and dehydrated, so they have a hard time getting her IV in, and after being there for almost a day, her back is killing her because of how uncomfortable the beds are?

I know it might be a bit of an odd request but I would love this if possible? If not it's 100% okay!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: hospital, mention of IV

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 618 words

Remus is moving his thumb back and forth over your hand, a slow, hypnotic drag, and you know he’s trying to get you to sleep but you’re too uncomfortable to manage it for him. 

You shift on your side, the muscles of your back stretching for one blissful second before the ache sets back in. You wish the hospital had one of those medieval torture devices that would pull you limb from limb until your spine stretched all the way out. You think it would help. 

Your poor boyfriend should be sleeping, too. He’s just worked a twelve-hour shift, and as soon as he got off he came here to sit with you. The boys had all been some mix of alarmed and happy to see you when you’d texted them that you were feeling funny and they’d come in their ambulance to find you ill and severely dehydrated, sitting down on your kitchen floor to keep from passing out. It had been an onslaught of scoldings and doting all the way to the hospital, whereafter they’d done their best to check in on you in between calls out. 

“Okay, dollface,” Sirius comes into the room with his usual burst of sound (Remus gives him a look, but it’s pointless; you were nowhere near sleep anyway), “prepare to fall head over heels for me.” 

“For us,” James says, coming in behind him with a large bag. “It’s not like it was only your idea.” 

“Yeah, but mine was the best part, so.” 

“What’s in the bag?” Remus asks, sounding quite lovingly exasperated with the both of them. You can only smile tiredly at the three boys’ bickering. 

“So nice of you to ask, Moony.” Sirius looks genuinely excited, his eyes clear and light. “In this bag is our girl’s salvation.” 

James sets the bag on your bed, taking out two pillows with a flourish. 

You gasp. “My pillows! You went back to get these?” 

“Yes, and it appears we forgot to lock the door on our way out of there the first time.” James smiles sheepishly, stacking them behind your back and head when Remus helps you lean forward. “It’s locked now.” 

“Thanks,” you say, meaning it with all your heart. Your back is already grateful for the familiar plushness, muscles you didn’t even realize were tight relaxing. 

“Oh, that’s not all.” Sirius grins at you, reaching into the bag again and pulling out some snacks from your kitchen. “We figured while we were there we might as well bring you some things you’d enjoy.”

“This is so thoughtful.” You smile at him as you take them. Your heart feels heavy and full. “Thank you guys.” 

“Are you feeling very besotted yet?” 

“Very,” you say, somewhat shyly. 

Sirius grins, leaning over to kiss your cheek. He’s careful to avoid your IV line, but his eyes go there, and he frowns when he sees the dull bruise forming around where he’d struggled to put it in. 

“I’m sorry about this, lovely,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the spot. 

“It’s fine,” you promise him. “It was hard, I get it.” 

“Remus could’ve managed it,” James says certainly. Remus blushes and Sirius’ lips tilt up in a half smile.

“Probably right,” he agrees, tone apologetic. 

“You’ve more than made it up,” you reassure him, returning his cheek kiss with one of your own. You rip open one of your snacks for emphasis. 

“I was trying to get her to go to sleep,” Remus says pointedly. 

“Oh, let her have a second.” James sits on the edge of your bed, gifting you a dazzling smile. “Five of those, lovie, then it’s nap time. We wouldn’t want our Moony to get cranky.” 

[n109hunter]

Snippet Sunday - "cat nap"

pairing: sylus x mc word count: 1,043 summary: Still settling into the comfort of this new relationship, a certain kitten seeks a nice warm spot to nap when a rain storm comes rolling in. tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, early relationship, "wip" (see authors note), a/n: A wip of mine I started back at the start of October that, woefully, I kind of forgot where I was going with it. Well, I know where, but I forgot the specifics and it's making me smad. 😔 However! As it is right now, I think it's a fine, "fade-to-black" fluffy little one-shot. I intend to come back and finish it eventually, once I can herd those thoughts back, but for now I think it's good enough to share.

It was three in the afternoon in the N109 zone, which meant almost nothing at all under its perpetual darkness - except that Sylus was sleeping. 

Since they’d more or less ‘officially’ started dating, (and admittedly, before that too), she had gotten used to spending her free time around the Onychinus base - at least, as much as she could without raising too many suspicions. Maneuvering around each other's work and sleep schedules could get a little lonesome at times, but she did take a pleasant contentment in simply being near him. 

He’d said before he slept easier when she was around, and while it was perhaps a bit of a strange dynamic, she took pride in the thought she might offer him some peace of mind - that she could protect him when he was ‘at his most vulnerable’, as the twins had told her once.

…Lied, actually, but sentiments were sentiments. 

“Here comes the rain.” Kieran said with a tired sigh, looking out the window as he played his number card. 

Luke tsk'ed at the play, and put down an assist card. “Thought we’d get through the day without it.” 

From where she sat on the sofa across the room from them, she tilted her head back to glance at the window behind her. A few raindrops quietly began to pelt the reinforced, one-way glass, heralding the coming ‘will it or won’t it’ storm that had been hanging heavy over the N109 zone all day. She blinked slowly, eyes feeling slightly heavy.

She felt so at ease and content, it wasn’t that she was tired exactly, but curling up under some blankets just sounded so good. Sometimes she begrudgingly had to acknowledge maybe Sylus was right all along, maybe she was a kitten. One who wanted nothing more right now than to go crawl in a warm bed next to her favorite person for a little cat nap on a rainy afternoon. 

Dog earring her page she set her book down and climbed up from where she’d been sitting overlong, stretching her arms high above her head.

“I’m gonna go take a nap,” she said, making her way across the room, “don’t get carried away when you lose, Luke.”

“Hey! I’m still in the lead!” 

“Not anymore, you aren’t!” Kieran laughed, slapping down another card, soon followed by Luke’s frustrated groaning. 

Now, she didn’t particularly want to disturb Sylus’s sleep, but she didn’t think he’d mind if she just… crawled into bed with him, right? She would be oh-so-quiet, and felt like she could comfortably doze off with ease. 

Smiling to herself she recalled the multitude of times she’d snuck into this room before. Not terribly long ago, but how different those days had been. Back then she’d been appalled by him, now here she was eager to tuck herself against him and listen to the sound of his breathing and the distant rain as she fell asleep. 

Practically tip-toeing over to his bedside, she tried not to indulge herself in watching him sleep too much, lest he ‘sense eyes on him’ and wake abruptly. Augh but how couldn’t she? He was so impossibly handsome, and honestly pretty adorable when he was sleeping. The soft curl of his eyelashes against his cheeks, his slightly parted lips… No, no, she just needed to climb in and join him.

Though come to think of it… Just crawling into bed was quite possibly a risk, too, wasn’t it? 

Eh, she knew what she was getting into. Worst case scenario she’d be suspended in the air by his evol for a few seconds, and she was well accustomed to that by now. 

Steadying her breathing she gently lifted the covers and started inching her way onto the bed beneath them. And then stopped short, slowly looking up to see a pair of sleepy red eyes looking straight at her. Funny -and somehow comforting- how she was beginning to be able to simply sense the weight of his gaze when it was on her. 

Biting her lip briefly and feigning her best ‘oopsy’ expression, she lifted a finger to her mouth: “Shh.” and scooted closer. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was sleepy, words slurring slightly together, but there was no dissatisfaction in his tone, instead it was filled with warm amusement.

“Don’t wake up.” She told him, unable to restrain the big smile on her face as she started making herself comfy. “I wanna take a nap with you.”

‘Obedient’ was not a word she would ever use to describe Sylus, but nevertheless he… rather obediently stretched his arm out for her to lay her head on.

“Isn’t it a bit early for you to be sleeping?” He yawned, snaking his other arm around her waist and pulling her in closer to him. Her heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran through her, but then she happily eased against him, letting her arm slide around him in turn.

“It’s a nap- shh, listen.” Curling her other arm up between them she tapped her finger against his mouth to shush him. He gave a small mumble in the back of his throat, but otherwise fell quiet. The sound of rain against his window filled in the silence, joined by an occasional rumble of distant thunder. 

“Mm, it’s raining.” He said matter-of-factly, as if unsure if there was some meaning behind her pointing it out. He brought his hand up to wrap around hers, thumb brushing over her outstretched finger to fold it into a fist as he kissed her knuckles. “I didn’t think you were scared of the thunder, kitten.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes, but her breath caught in her lungs at that impossibly sweet gesture. 

“I just felt… like the atmosphere was perfect to come take a nap with you.”

“The atmosphere will always be perfect for that no matter what.”

Laughing softly, she wiggled herself a little closer, knees bumping his. “Shh, go back to sleep, I didn’t come here to bother you.” 

“Mmm,” he hummed and closed his eyes again. “You couldn’t anyway.” Tilting his head down, his forehead softly pressed against hers, and one of his legs snaked over hers pulling it between his knees. “Besides, I’m not tired anymore.”

[frozenchihuahua]

Chapter 1-

Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, sat in the therapist's office, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the clock on the wall. Mandated therapy sessions, ordered by John Price, felt more like a punishment than anything beneficial. He was determined to make this as difficult as possible for the new therapist.

“How can someone be late for the first session?” he muttered under his breath, fiddling with a pocketknife in his hands.

The sound of the door opening interrupted his grumbling.

“Sorry I’m late!” A warm, apologetic voice filled the room. “It’s pouring out there, and I forgot my umbrella.”

Ghost looked up to see his new therapist enter. That wasn’t what he had expected—young woman, younger than him but not much, with rain-soaked hair but somehow a soft demeanor. She set her things on the desk without a hint of formality, she placed a dry towel underneath herself, then plopped onto the sofa opposite him, smiling despite her damp clothes.

“Simon Riley, right?” she asked, still catching her breath. “I’m Y/N L/N, you're therapist like you may see. I’ve been working with military personnel, so don’t worry—I’m familiar with all the jargon...probably.” she chuckles.

“Simon.” he replied curtly, studying her with skepticism.

Y/N didn’t seem like someone who has competencies to this. She seemed too carefree for this. Still, Ghost immediately put up his defenses, He was damn irritated by this 'forced' therapy.

“So, how’s this supposed to work?” he asked with clear sarcasm. “Am I supposed to lie on a couch and tell you about my feelings?” He added a bit of irony to the last word, his tone dripping with disdain.

Y/N laughed lightly, she wasn't affected by the man's sarcastic tone. “No, not at all. At first, you can talk about whatever you want or just sit there, and do nothing.” she said calmly. “” Real” therapy doesn’t usually start until a few sessions in. For now, I’d just like to get to know you a little.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow in disbelief. She was nothing like any therapist he had encountered before...she’s strange, without a shadow of a professionalism. “You really think you can get to know someone in…” He glanced at the clock and groaned. “…fifty minutes?”

Woman smiled wider, as if she were secretly waiting for every one of his questions. She leaned slightly towards him.

“Enough to get an idea” she said with a shrug.

Ghost rolled his eyes, his irritation drip clear in his posture.

“Well, my day’s been fucking crap” he said bluntly. “Had to come here, on a completely unnecessary..." The man smirk, "therapy".” He paused before grudgingly adding, “And yours? You got completely soaked.”

She chuckled softly. Wet blonde strands stubbornly stuck to her face.

“Well, mine sucks, i’m soaked and cold” she admitted, glancing down at her damp coat. “But look outside, it’s pouring, yes, but in here it’s dry and warm. We’ve got tea, so it’s not all That bad.”

Her casual, almost cheerful demeanor threw Ghost off balance, her behavior made him nauseous; he was already fed up just thinking about the fact that he couldn't quit this shit.

Ghost sighed deeply, the sound carrying his frustration. He shifted in his chair, leaning back with an air of defiance as if challenging the woman to prove this wasn’t a waste of his time. He studied her again, her calmness almost irritating in its simplicity.

"You don't seem the type" he said abruptly, voice low but pointed.

Y/N tilted her head, her curiosity genuine. "The type for what?"

"Therapist." he replied bluntly. "You look too soft for this line of work."

Her lips curled into a faint smile, not offended but amused. "Soft, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment. But really? Maybe you’ve got me all wrong."

His brow furrowed. He didn’t like being wrong, though he wouldn’t admit it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his mask a shield for the flicker of interest her words stirred.

"Is that so? Enlighten me then."

She crossed her legs and clasped her hands together, her demeanor still light but now carrying an undertone of seriousness. "Well, Simon, i’m not here to fix you or tell you what to do. My job is to create a space where you can feel... human again, if you want to. That’s not easy. That’s damn hard when you’ve spent years building walls so thick you can’t even see daylight anymore."

He stiffened at her words. "You think you know me?"

"No no, not yet." she replied, unflinching. "But I know the type. i’ve worked with soldiers, operatives, people who’ve seen more than we ever think. And the one thing I’ve learned? Everyone’s got a story. And those stories weigh heavy, whether you admit it or not."

He scoffed, leaning back again, arms crossed once more. "So what? You think I’m just gonna spill mine because you’ve got some fancy degree and a couch?”

“No.” she replied calmly, mirroring his posture with a subtle confidence. “What I want is for you to talk to me like an equal by the time we’re done here, no pressure. Just two people having a normal conversation. So, instead of diving into the deep end and dredging up traumas, let’s start with something simple. Let’s just get to know each other.”

Her tone was steady, her words deliberate but she wasn’t trying to pry or force her way past his walls. Instead, she was extending a kind of olive branch, offering to meet him on common ground.

Ghost raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched into every line of his body. “Get to know each other, huh? Bullshit, what’s that supposed to do?”

“It’s suppose to keep us from wanting to kill each other over the next year.” she said, offering him a convincing smile, one that seemed to almost lighten the weight in the room. “Either way, we’re stuck with each other for the year.”

"Great." he muttered dryly. "A year of this...”

~Gusy i'm not a therapist, the whole story is pure fiction, just have a good time while reading!

English is not my first language, if i made a mistake, please let me know.

- Chapter 2 - ⬇️

[anonymousbardd]

Connected To The Soul Ft. Mr. Scarletella

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: "Me want your name...", "Will not/cannot give."

Content Contains : 𑄽𑄺 : xFemreader, smut, strong language, mentions of violence. ¡Do NOT re-post without crediting! [MDNI]

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: "You are to serve me, you are now mine... Disobey me and you'll face the consequences of your actions."

Name forgotten, purpose has perished... Mr. Scarletella stand before [F/N], looking at her with content, pitiful thing even forgot his own name. So the young woman gave him one.

It wasn't too far off from his previous name, quite frankly it was just a shortened version of it, "Scarlett".

This poor lovesick entity stood in front of the young and dazed [F/N], who's currently covered in blood and is breathing heavily, her face flushed as she looked at the tall man in front of her.

She then pointed at the body and looked at the man in red, "Body... You consume..." She said in the broken language that Mr. Scarletella understands.

Mr. Scarletella smiled and leaned closer to [F/N], "You give body.., me greatful."

"Hmm, you're really useful for getting rid of bodies... I should reward you for being so good," she said, Mr. Scareletella tilted his head; he didn't really understand what [F/N] was saying, but he was happy to hear her voice nonetheless.

The young woman then signaled at Mr. Scarletella to stay, "Me change clothes, you stay," she said.

The man in red grinned and nodded his head, his eyes intently watched as [F/N]'s figure slowly descended into her bedroom.

After a long day, the young woman wanted to get changed as fast as she could.., although she enjoyed having to hurt people, the aftermath of the progress was a hassle.

[F/N] then slowly began to strip off her raincoat, freeing her sweating skin from the hot material of her protective outfit.

As she browsed her closer for a nice comfy clothing, her eyes suddenly met with the red umbrella at the corner of her room. The red that coloured it was definitely noticeable and eye catching.

[F/N] hummed and put on a random shirt, she then made her way towards the umbrella, gently grabbing it and looking at it intently.

She then hummed and thought to herself, "If I remember correctly... This is connected to his heart..." And just as she said that, Mr. Scarletella appeared behind her.

[F/N] jolted as she felt his warm breath on his skin, his body slightly leaning down on her, his chin almost resting on the young woman's shoulder, "What doing...?" He asked in a soft tone.

The young woman shook her head and turned her face slightly to face his, "Nothing..." She replied.

[F/N] then notice the soft look in his eyes, his black empty eyes seemed to carry desire... Desire for what?

"Need something?" She asked, the man in red didn't answer right away, he then part his lips and spoke, "Me want..." His lips quickly shut and then he rested his head on [F/N]'s shoulder.

"Me want you..."

[F/N] hummed, she then turned her body to face him, her eyes looked up at his. Slowly, she placed down the umbrella, leaning it against the wall, her hands then reach for his face, cupping both sides of his cheeks.

"What you desire?" She asked.

Mr. Scarletella placed one of his hands on top of [F/N]'s, he then let out a shaky breath and spoke, "Want to feel... Me want to feel you..." He mumbled.

[F/N], her thumb creased Mr. Scarletella's cheek, "Is that so..? Well, you've been really good recently... I suppose I can give you a reward..." She said with a grin.

The red-haired man tilted his head, not understanding a single word she had just said, but by the tone of her voice and the way she looked at him, he could tell it was going to be something good.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: "Being with you makes me happy, seeing you smile makes me weak... I love you, and you'll be mine, forever."

[F/N] softly hummed as her hands gently stroked Scarletella's hair, he was on top of her, his head rested on her chest.

"Who knew that the infamous man in red would be so putty in my arms?" She spoke softly; although her words weren't understood, it didn't matter.

Scarletella let out a happy sigh as he nuzzled his face on [F/N]'s chest, his arms wrapped around her body, "You look pretty without your coat, you should wear it less when you're at home."

The young woman kept whispering sweet things into Scarletella's ear, not caring for their language barrier. An idea then popped in her head.

"Scarlett~..," she called out.

The red-haired man looked up and tilted his head, his dark eyes covered by his hair.

"Me teach language..."

Scarletella smiled and nodded his head, "Alright... You teach language, me understand better."

[F/N] smiled and thought for a moment, "Hmm, right now we're cuddling... So, we doing cuddling," she then tightened her embrace and smiled, "We cuddling."

Scarletella chuckled and rested his head on her chest, "Like... Me like."

The young woman giggled and gave Scarletella a pat on the head, for the next few minutes, she pointed at things and taught what they're called.

She also helped him form small sentences, just for basic communication.

After a little while, [F/N] taught Scarletella another sentence which was more intimate; "You and me.., always together... I'm your master, and you belong to me... Forever."

Scarletella repeated her words, slowly learning what they meant.

It went on for a while 'till their intimacy eventually got sexual.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: "Let me make you feel good, I'll show you all the pleasures I can give."

"Ah-ahh~..! Fuck!" [F/N]'s loud moans only turned on Mr. Scarletella even more, he did everything in his control to keep himself from holding her hips and thrusting even deeper.

He knew to himself that if he did something that [F/N] didn't like, he can kiss his orgasm goodbye; that was until she burried her face on the crook of his neck.

"Feel good... G-go harder~..." She moaned into his ear, her eyes shut due to the delight ecstasy she's feeling by Scarletella's throbbing cock.

Scarletella whined, and his hands quickly placed onto her hips, pushing it down further into his cock while his own thrusted in and out of her faster.

[F/N] shot her head back as she felt a wave of pleasure suddenly washing over her, her moans even louder than before. Good thing she lived in a pretty abandoned area, no one to hear her sweet tender moans other than Mr. Scarletella.

The red-haired man kept pounding his cock in and out of [F/N]'s dripping pussy, his eyes looked at hers, filled with tenderness and passion.

His hands gripped on to her hips tighter, pulling her down deeper on his cock.

Scarletella rammed his hips into [F/N]'s sweet dripping pussy, causing her to let out a load moan, she nuzzled her face closer to him, a soft whimper comming out of her.

The red-haired man's speed was inhuman, which made sense considering the fact that he isn't human, but it was all too much for the young woman.

The sweet taste of sexual ecstasy made her cum all over his cock, Scarletella grinned. He didn't slow down, instead, he kept going faster, his cock twitched as he felt himself getting even more pleasure.

"F-fast... T-too fast... S-slow, please~...," she softly whined, her hands were on his shoulders.

Scarletella let out a disappointed hum and let out a soft groan as he slowed his pace, he felt [F/N]'s body trembled under his touch.

"Pretty..." He mumbled as his hips continued to thrust in and out of her at a steady pace, [F/N] giggled and kissed his jaw and smiled, "Thank you..."

Scarletella then wrapped his long slender arms around [F/N], his face pressed against the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo.

"C-cumming... Oh FUCK I'm cumming!" [F/N] cried out, although the red-haired man didn't really understand her words, he knew what she was telling him by the way her walls clenched around him.

Scarletella softly moaned, feeling himself getting closer to his own orgasm, "Desire... Inside..." He mumbled.

[F/N] nodded her head, lips throwing out moans of pleasure, "Y-you may~..!"

And not even a few minutes later, Scarletella and [F/N]'s sweet juices mixed together as they both hit their climax at the same time.

The young woman rested her body on top of Scarletella, breathing heavily as she took her time to calm herself from her high.

Scarletella smiled happily, seeing [F/N]'s flushed and tired figure to his sweet loving made him feel happy. His hand reached her head and he began to gently stroke her hair while softly humming.

"I'm yours, forever..." He softly hummed as he placed a kiss on [F/N]'s forehead, she hummed and nodded in response, "Yes... Yes you are."

[hangesdarling]

Hear me out…midari and kirari fucking the reader and winner keeps her as a house pet

-anon gay.

she's all mine — m. ikishima & k. momobami

PAIRING. Midari Ikishima x female reader x Kirari Momobami SYNOPSIS. Midari and Kirari are trying to win you as their housepet. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, fingering, oral sex, power play, Midari cursing a lot, mentions of gunplay (with Midari), pet play (with Kirari), Kirari being quite manipulative (lmk what else) WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. omfg anon my two biggest kakegurui crushes battling like this ohmyyyy

It had been hours since they made you kneel in that game room. The cold air fanning over the room had your exposed skin freezing.

Your fingers clenched on your numbing knees as you looked over the game table where Midari and Kirari were. Sure, it started as a simple student council gamble. Trying to earn you as a price for the thrill of it. Kirari even put a nice, heavy collar on your neck to prove her point.

Full house, straight flush, and royal flush landed on the table, each side relentless to beat the other. Midari might have taken reckless gambles but won't let Kirari get too ahead of her, even if the game draws out forever.

"So damn boring," Midari huffed, placing her revolver down, knocking a few chips in the process. "You always bet too low, President."

Kirari shot her a firm look, lips forming a sinister smile. "Well, I'm not the one running out of chips now, am I?"

Midari snorted, shrugging that indirect insult. She might be bothered with her stack of chips running short because of her impulsive bets but worrying was never fun so why bother?

Midari looked in your direction, seeing your head bowed down and knees quivering.

"Hey sweetie, come here," Midari ushered you over with a finger to which you slowly obeyed, almost keeling over from your sore knees as you walked towards her.

With an almost triumphant look in her eyes, she circled an arm on your waist and pulled you to her lap. The small sound of surprise coming from you just made the situation even more amusing to her.

Midari tilted her head to Kirari, a smug smile on her face as she said, "Why the sour face now, Prez? Wish you thought about this earlier, huh?"

Midari playfully patted your thigh, squeezing it a bit just to show Kirari how much she have a grip on you.

"Fondling with the prize because you cannot have her by the time this is over looks more pathetic when you do it, Midari," Kirari smiled, putting down a straight royal flush.

"Huh, you think so," Midari chuckled, putting down the same value of cards. Even before the dealer came to settle the situation due to equal value, Midari signaled her to stop and back away.

"I don't want to bet with these damn chips anymore." Midari shoved the rest of her chips out of the way, others toppling and rolling over the floor. She slid down her revolver in the poker table to Kirari's direction, the barrel stopping right at the president's hand.

"Do it," Midari urged, a firm arm remained on your waist as she set her head down on her other hand, waiting for Kirari to make the shot.

You heard the sound of the cylinder turning, a fast resolute aim from Kirari before a gunshot echoed in the room. You trembled in Midari's lap, your hands shaking when you covered your face in shock. Midari patted your head, pulling you close to her body when she saw you trembling.

She wiped the blood from the small cut on her ear, the open wound bleeding out into the collar of her shirt.

"Terrible fucking aim, Prez," she only laughed, holding a handkerchief to her ear to staunch the blood. "I bet you can do worse."

Kirari put the revolver down and said, "I just don't want this game to end sooner than I'd like."

"If you say so," Midari just shrugged, standing up with you in their arms. "Maybe you can aim better at some time soon, eh?"

After you exit the game room, Midari notices the way your hand shakes against hers. She pulled you aside and raised your face to look at her.

"Hey, sugar, sorry to scare you like that," she mumbled, her single eye had a trace of concern. The blood began to dry on the side of her face. It was almost fascinating how the red had smudged on her neck. It suits her in a way.

"I'm okay. Don't worry. Does your ear still hurt?" you asked.

She just chuckled and shook her head, "Nah, I've had worse than this." Midari quickly offered you a hand which you took.

"Let's get out of here, alright?" she winked before pulling you out of that hallway.

----

"Why the hell do you always wear this collar? It's fucking annoying. And you get rashes from it," Midari hissed, before swiftly unlocking your collar and tossing it on the other side of her room, making the thing thump and rattle against the floor. One hand gently pushed you back to bed as her lips ran along your neck, kissing the reddening rashes trailing to where the collar had been earlier.

"The President made me wear it," you mumbled, a hand tangled in her short hair as her kisses turned into bruising ones, even nipping at your skin.

"To hell with what she wants. I don't want you wearing it around me. Got it?" she ordered, popping your uniform open to have your breasts in her mouth. "Let me treat you like a princess when I have you here."

Midari might be a rough woman of crude words and actions but for the weeks she has you by her side, you were never once treated cruelly like a housepet. Every once in a while, she would order you to sit on her lap during games, calling you her lucky charm as she rubbed your thighs.

After one game of Russian Roulette in the beautification council, you had her hot and bothered by how you put the gun on her neck or kissed the muzzle whenever it was your turn to shoot her.

"You do know what you're doing to me, ain't ya?" a husky voice resounded from her throat as she had you in her lap, spreading your thighs on either side of her.

Midari ripped your skirt off much to your protest, before thumbing on your damp underwear. Your hand clenched around her shoulder, your lips strained from holding back your moan.

"You like it when I flirt with you, sweetheart?" Midari took a careful look at your face, only continuing their hand work when you're nodding. A finger brushed the damp material aside, fingers of expertise teasing your folds before plunging two digits inside.

"Such a good girl for me," she breathed out the moment you were dripping onto her fingers, becoming a whimpering mess more and more. "You can't blame me for not trying to win you over, right?"

Each time with Midari felt like a warm embrace from the earth, her fingers always finding their way to give you utmost pleasure, and her tongue learning to find its way to your folds.

She reminded you of a warm reality, a touch of home, even the cold metal of her gun felt sweet against your mouth.

You missed her touch or the way she pats your head as if you're a cat. But you can't even let that thought linger now that you're in front of Kirari, sitting in her office as her sharp eyes bore through your soul.

The slice of cake she offered you felt so sweet in your mouth, the syrup dripping like honey in your throat as she asked, "Are you enjoying it so far?"

You just nodded politely, wary of how you chew. Her elegant, cut-glass voice had your attention as she smiled, her fork running gently along her own plate with a quite untouched slice of cake.

"Do you like your new collar?" she asked next, eyeing the quaint, beaded collar around your neck. Kirari purchased it specifically for you, it looks more like a necklace than a collar with how heavily beaded it was. It was quite heavy but not enough to put you in too much discomfort.

You just nodded and smiled appreciatively at her, wondering how this thing of trying to win you over would end for both her and Midari. What would come after this? Freedom, a life plan, or an even more inescapable prison? Your fork toyed with the rest of the cream, your throat aching for water to wash all the sweetness down.

"Mind if I take you somewhere?" Kirari offered, urging you to follow her outside.

A week with her felt rather... amusing. She loves it when you tail her around while wearing that nice collar with gems matching her eyes. When you kneel or sit by during her games, or how fascinated you were at the Tower of Doors whenever she tours you around. When you hear her laugh or smile, you forget that she's remorseless enough to treat the whole academy as her aquarium to stir and play around with.

She felt like the divine promises of heaven, the only one rightful to place your future in her hands. Just one soft word from her mouth brings about your submission. She fixes and dresses you up like the perfect ornament in her office, a doll to be displayed.

Despite hours of kneeling where you couldn't even feel your knees right after, Kirari manages to soothe you and make you love her all over again. A kiss on your hair or a gentle caress of your thighs had you right under her thumb once more.

"You're such a good pet for me," Kirari would tell you, patting your hair after having your mouth on her cunt for how long she wishes. She tastes as sweet as the cake she feeds you, her cum dripping down your chin like honey and milk from a generous well. For that, you didn't mind your sore, scraped knees or your overworked tongue.

Her fragrance, her silky white hair, her blue eyes ever-present and watching you— all felt so overwhelming as if you were taken by a divine deity to see the world beneath her feet.

Behind closed doors, she enjoys pleasing you. Her perfectly manicured nails brushed your folds, and spread you open experimentally like learning the keys of a new instrument. Kirari always looked at you in amusement, making you wear beautiful skirts just to make you squirt on them when she was playing with you. Her pet, her doll; she would call you.

You learned to do your hair the way she always does for you, even learning how she puts her makeup on which you emulated later on. In that short period, Kirari was making you hers so Midari remembers her competition every time she looks at you.

One afternoon, you emerged from her office, fixing the new collar Kirari gave you,  mindlessly thumbing over the polished gems embedded in your neck. That was when Midari spotted you alone once more, momentarily free of Kirari's eye. She pulled you aside, snapping you out of your dazed thoughts as she pinned you against the wall.

The constricted pupil of her eye had met yours once more, softening and dilating into a much more humane appearance. Seeing you in that light blue dress and collar brimmed her mind of all Kirari's schemes she managed to pull with you.

"Midari..." The sound of her name in your mouth nudged the gentleness in her heart. She longed to have you in her arms after a week of not having you. Midari never wanted to share you with anyone in the future even if it killed her.

Midari brushed the hair out of your face, saying, "I missed you, my sweet girl."

Her hand found the nape of your neck, maybe finding a way to get rid of that collar from you, but found it impossible to do so. Midari only cupped your face in her hands, pulling you into a sweet, sloppy kiss you always loved. Every move of her mouth spoke of how she missed you, her grape lipstick left a faint and sweet taste on your mouth as she pulled away slightly to catch her breath.

"Hey," she breathed, looking at your eyes. "Today will be my final gamble with Kirari. Watch me closely, okay?"

You nodded, letting her pat your head once more as you sank into her warm embrace. She reminded you once again of the warm earth after a sunny morning, the stalks of grass brushing your legs in a grass field. Midari's presence grounded you into reality once again,  battling with Kirari's celestial promises for a place in your mind.

You were torn and placed in a situation where choosing wouldn't be the best option.

A cough resounded from your back, making you and Midari turn in that direction just to see the president eyeing your intimate moment cross-armed.

"I suggest for us not to touch the pet until the gamble is over. For the sake of fairness. How does that sound?" Kirari said, her cold voice cutting the warmth off that room.

Midari slowly withdrew from you, squeezing you gently before saying, "Sounds like a load of bullshit to me, but fine. I'll have her as long as I like after, anyway."

Your eyes darted from Midari to Kirari, wondering how your fate would be sealed by the end of this day.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

"Do You Want to Dance Too?"

[Bucky Barnes x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: After a very rare date with your boyfriend, it starts to rain and you two find yourselves stuck in a cafe with no way to get home without being soaked.

Warnings: none! Just fluff

Word Count: 1.1k words

(A/n: First attempt at a fanfic. I thought about this when I was trying to sleep and I really wanted to write it down.)

You curse under your breath as James and you quickly run to the small cafe at the end of the empty street. The rain started just a few moments ago, so it wasn't bad now, but you had a feeling it would only get worse.

You finally make it through the door, only slightly wet.

"Nice end to the day," he mumbles, clearly unhappy.

You sigh and take a seat at your usual table when Ella, a good friend of yours, pops up behind the counter.

"Well, this is a surprise," the barista says. "Thought I was finally going to be able to go through the whole day without you showing up."

"Ha ha," you muse, "Get us some hot chocolate."

She rolls her eyes but goes to make the order nonetheless.

James takes a seat next to you, glaring out the window as if that would stop the rain. The rain didn't take kindly to that as it starts a downpour, confirming your earlier suspicion.

He grumbles, and you take his hand in yours.

"Tonight was nice," you say gently.

"It could've been better."

You shake your head, "You can't control the weather, love."

But you could understand his frustration. You rarely got to spend much time together as it was.

You usually only see each other at night but by then are too exhausted to do anything other than eat and sleep.

James and you had started dating a few months ago, but you had known each other for years before then. You used to be an Avenger, but you quit after Steve left. First, it had been out of grief from your best friends; then it changed to you not wanting that kind of life anymore.

James was still very much in it—he was a soldier first, after all—and, as long as he didn't get himself killed, you were okay with that.

You unconsciously trace a small scar on his palm as Ella brings you the hot cocoas.

"Okay, here's the deal," she starts, "I have to close up in 45 minutes. You guys can stay to try to wait the rain out."

"Do you at least have an umbrella we can borrow?" you ask.

"Nope. I even gave mine to an old lady."

"And you can't let us stay?"

"Nada."

It's your turn to grumble, "Fine."

Ella shrugs, "I need to clean up," she says before making her leave.

James is still glaring out of the window when he suddenly turns his stare on you.

"This is why we should've taken the car," he concludes.

You are taken aback, "So it's my fault for suggesting that we walk for 20 minutes to the restaurant?"

"Guess so."

You scoff, "You are on very thin ice here, Barnes."

He raises an eyebrow, "Are you threatening me?"

"Guess so," you mimic.

"What are you going to do?" he asks, amused.

"Do you want to sleep on the couch?"

He scoffs at your threat but doesn't say anything else.

Smart man.

You sip your hot cocoas in silence.

Then, suddenly, you're laughing. James looks at you with an amused grin.

"I can make you sleep on the couch," you say, still giggling.

You poke his chest, and he starts laughing too.

"I know you can, dear. I know you can."

He grabs your chin with his right hand, tilting your head so you look him directly in the eye.

"What would I do without you?" he wonders out loud.

"It's too awful to think about," you joke.

He laughs again before pressing his lips against yours.

You sigh in the kiss. It's difficult to think you were once distrusting of the super soldier you had grown to love. Now you trusted him with everything you had and more.

It took a long time for you to see the ex-Winter Soldier's true nature. His gentle, shy yet annoyingly protective nature.

Too long.

He breaks off the kiss with a small smile.

"We should finish the hot cocoa before it gets cold," James suggests.

"Hot cocoa is more important than kissing your girlfriend?" you pout.

He shrugs, "It's good hot chocolate."

You don't deny his statement.

It's your turn to look out of the window. As rain bangs on the roof and glass of the small cafe, it seems to play out a rather aggressive tune. You don't like when it rains. It brings back rather painful memories, but you've learned that countering the bad memories with good ones helps make peace with the pain caused in a moment.

That gives you an idea.

"Do you want to sprint for it now?" you ask randomly.

The super soldier nearly spits out his cocoa, "What?"

"It's probably only gonna get worse, and we are going to have to eventually."

"Do you want to dance too?" he says sarcastically.

Your eyes light up at the idea, "Can we?"

James' eyes widen, "I meant it as a joke."

"But why not? It's as cliche as dancing in the apartment," you point out, "Besides, it'll be fun."

He shakes his head, "We are not dancing in the rain."

"But—"

"It's way too cold, and the last time you got sick, you couldn't get out of bed for a week."

You try to hide your wince by pouting, "Fine. No dancing."

He sighs, "But maybe we should go soon. It does look like it's going to get worse."

"So let's go then."

~~~

"Wait up!"

James' voice is nearly lost in the rain. You keep running, knowing full well he could catch up with you within a minute.

Or maybe he couldn't. You are pretty fast.

You laugh into the wind, your mouth filling with water as the painfully large raindrops hit your face.

You sprint in the direction you think is your house and try to calm the leather jacket that James gave you by wrapping it around your torso.

While doing so, you accidentally stumble on your feet and go flying forward.

Strong arms wrap around you within a moment, one made out of a now freezing metal.

"I got you," Bucky assures, "I got you."

You hear him loud and clear now despite his voice barely being above a whisper. The drumming of rain seems like an irrelevant background noise.

You turn to him, grinning like an idiot. His hair is stuck to his face. He shakes his head at you but is unable to hide his own smile.

No words need to be exchanged in the moment as his hands rest on your waist, and your arms loop around his neck.

You look at James with possibly all the love you hold and softly press your lips against his. It is easy to forget everything with him, even easier to forget the bad things.

He puts his arm on your neck and pulls away. "You're going to get sick."

"I've accepted it," you confess quickly, chasing his lips.

He shakes his head again but lets you kiss him regardless.

You got sick for a week afterward, but it was well worth it. Especially when you had James looking after you.

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (11/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“Ya sure y’er an Omega?” He’s sniffing at your neck, his nose directly against where the ‘scent glands’ are meant to be as you spread your arms out, chin tilted up and slumping your shoulder a little more to give him better access. “Maybe the paper’s wrong, cause,”

Another deep inhale.

“You don’t smell like anything.” You hear several more, purposefully loud breaths in, maybe a nudge of your arm and Gojo Satoru’s hand patting your shoulder before his head is lifted off and away.

“Then I guess Mama was right about the medicine working.” You perk up, satisfied with the result as you nod to yourself, proud hands on your hips as you stand before your friends.

(All 3 of them failed to smell anything. Well… Other than Shoko saying that you smelled like pretty laundry detergent.)

“If it’s working right, then Mama’s got nothing to worry about anymore!” Your cheers settle when you plop down next to a contemplating Suguru, opening your mouth and letting him feed you another cracker as you hum in delight.

“Then she’ll let me go and hang out with you all more often.”

Your Mama has been awfully protective for a while… No, you’re pretty sure she’s been extra protective ever since those test results were confirmed. So many trips to go see Dr. Homura, so many times they had to poke those needles into your arm, so many times you had to suck it up and drink yucky stuff in cups; before it switched over to swallowing pills.

(At least Dr. Homura isn’t stingy when it comes to treats. You’ve collected at least 4 different full-sized chocolate bars from her… And some smaller snacks from all the hospital staff who cooed at how cute you were.)

Alas, you don’t think you mind… Not all that much with the changes in your life, anyway. It must come with the responsibilities of being 12.

“Your neck needs to be covered.” Mama’s hands are gentle when she tugs your sweater up, fastening the button tightly and double checking that it was on securely as she readjusts it— For probably the nth time as you stood waiting by the front door for her to finish.

(It was in the middle of summer, but you’re willing to wear anything your Mama picks out for you.)

“…no. I can’t let you go swimming today.” Your eyes are downcast as your hopeful smile slowly fades, the brochure you were holding up in your hands slowly retracting alongside all your dreams of being able to cool down in this hot summer alongside your friends. You guess you won’t be able to check off the pool in Saya-chan’s ‘Ultimate Summer Planning!’ guide.

Mama’s touch is always soft. Delicate and always careful when she holds you close and hugs you tight late into the night. “You can’t tell anyone, okay?” Her eyes are serious as she holds your hand, only the whirring of the fan and the rustling of your soft futon heard alongside her quiet voice on this cool summer night.

“They don’t need to know.”

“Why’s your mama so worried anyway?” Shoko’s head is tilted to the side as she munches on another chip, a hand underneath cupping her chin as she stares at you, brown eyes lax and— Concentrated. “You have us around.”

“The dangers of being an Omega! Saya-san, have you ever experienced anything as scary as our viewer did?” The man— You don’t remember his name, but the funny glasses he wears, the slightly oversized suit he dons with that familiar label… That’s the new host of your favourite news talkshow, you’re pretty sure.

(And Saya-chan was as pretty as ever today.)

“My! It’s quite hard to say nowadays since my agency always provides me with plenty of bodyguards whenever I go outside.” She’s gentle when she laughs, demure with a hand over her mouth— The epitome of your perfect Saya-chan.

“Oh wow! What a protective bunch, eh?” He laughs too loudly, eyes crinkled too much and voice too rough for your liking. “Say, Saya-san, as one of the most sought after Omegas in the industry, do you think your fame was attributed solely because of your secondary gender?”

Hmph. What a rude man. You cross your arms and pout at the screen, clearly angry and glaring at the camera that had now panned towards his face. The last host was definitely more polite than he will ever be, and definitely 100 times better than he is, given the sudden quiet atmosphere.

“Ahaha, Yoshida-san…”

“I mean, come on! You’re a gorgeous woman Saya-san, and being an Omega on top of that! It’s almost like the system is working out a little too perfectly for you!”

You will never understand how some people can be so utterly, shamelessly rude.

“I think Mama’s just being cautious. She likes to prevent lots of stuff before something bad happens, you know?” Like how she spots dark clouds in the skies and rushes out to collect the laundry before even a speck of rain hits the ground, how she always warns you about your sugar intake— Before inevitably taking most of your sweets away before you get a cavity.

(Prevention is always better than cure. A hard lesson you finally understood when you got sick all those years back and missed out on one of the most important sport festivals ever.)

“Your mama’s right though,” Suguru pats your shoulder to make you turn your face, a cracker hovering near your mouth as you cheerfully; obediently part your lips to be fed another.

“It isn’t a bad thing to be too careful.”

——

“So? How much?” His foot is tapping against the ground, his lips humming dismissively as he writes a couple more ‘0’s at the back of the already too large number with his unsharpened pencil. “It’s still not a lot, but you usually give in by now cause ya get so stressed at the amount.”

It was just an accidental throwaway, something that left your head on a whim through the mishandling of the craft scissors.

“Ah.” It nicks you, an open cut right upon your finger as you stare on, not quite fully registering the pain as you watch beads of red coalesce. It stings slightly, makes you flinch back when you finally register that this was supposed to hurt— And that you should not be debating which ones of your funky bandaids would look nice on it.

You know this. It was like that scene in the drama that plays just before the daily nighttime reports, just like that one scene when the main character gets a ‘life threatening, disfiguring’ injury upon their beautiful face— They’d say their one line as tragic music plays and the director cuts to an angle that made the ‘loss’ of their still very apparent beauty all the more dramatic.

“Now nobody will ever marry me!”

(You always wanted to say that, really. So dramatic, so flamboyant…)

Just that you said it with a lot less emotion, no tears, a lot less actorly and as a quiet whisper underneath your breath and solely for your own amusement.

You didn’t think that anyone would actually hear your silly little scene.

“I’d marry you.” His eyes are already meeting yours, the shine in his azure gaze something so clear, so much so that you aren’t unfamiliar with what you’re looking at as face off against full-on seriousness and feel an undeniable, unshaken will.

And that honestly gave you more questions than why they don’t try to disfigure the pretty actors enough for them to actually look like they had something actually terrible to them. Mama was right about drama quality going down these days.

(So what’s a little challenge to your ever all-knowing Satoru?)

“What if I had acid burn off all my skin and I become a zombie?” Your arms cross and press against yourself just in case, hugging and patting against skin that you hoped would stay on for a long, long time. It sounds painful to even imagine losing it.

“I’d get someone to reverse curse technique your skin back on.” He huffs as if you were stupid, his cheeks puffed up momentarily and his eyes glaring, as if annoyed at your question.

(How dare you try to question him?)

“What if I lost both my eyes and can’t see?” It’s honestly a real fear of yours. You quite like your eyes— Quite like being able to sit and quietly admire your friends, your Mama, the people around you… Especially when they think you aren’t looking.

“Duh. Whaddya think my technique’s called Six Eyes for? I can see more than enough for the both of us, dummy.”

(Makes sense. Satoru really is smart.)

“What if I wanted a lot, a lot, a lot of money and it’s more than you can afford?” Because… Do rich people ever run out of money? Maybe you’ve just been watching too many news reports about million, billion, trillionaires losing their fortunes after being outed for fraud.

(Maybe you have been watching too much television. At least you learned that you should ‘freeze your assets’. If your freezer can even hold all your savings, anyway.)

One blink. Maybe two. You see him think about it momentarily, a hand on his chin contemplating your words… Before he grins again, his brows quirked up in amusement and his voice dripping with the ego that he had always possessed.

“I’d laugh cause y’er too smart to think that would actually ever happen.” He even ends haughtily, all smug grin and crossed arms, narrowed eyes and simply radiating confidence that nobody would dare to trump.

“But if it’s money ya want, how much? I can probably give ya enough to make you be my friend forever.”

(He’s Gojo Satoru, after all. Who exactly did you think you were talking to?)

“Don’t ever let anyone buy you over to marry you.” Suguru holds both of your hands in his— Or was it more accurate to say that he gripped them tight; squeezed them with an affirmation paired with a look so serious? Regardless of it, he was so gentle, so soft. Your Suguru is always so lovely. “You deserve more than that.”

(“And definitely more than that greedy vacuum.”)

“Hey! Don’t listen to the guy with Weird Bangs! He looks shady for a good reason!”

“Don’t listen to the ugly snowman with no morals!”

——

Ieiri Shoko thinks she enjoys her elementary school life, no matter how rundown, not at all high class, near peasant-level her school looked and felt. No matter how childish she thinks the sailor uniform was, no matter how this new school’s cafeteria’s food tasted.

It was almost pitiful, makes her think that she had picked the wrong choice, given that this was her second public school and it was all still so… Plain.

The teachers are average. Painfully average. Skills, materials, passion— It was all very lacking, always left her expecting more. Wasn’t it odd? Wasn’t it off? That someone of her caliber, that her, an Ieiri, was attending a public middle school?

She wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for how almost the entirety of high-society Jujutsu families whispering about how a Gojo chose to attend public school.

Muttering under their breaths about how it was preposterous, about how inappropriate for someone of their social standings to be delegated to some no-name brand of a school. A school that was painfully ordinary, at that.

Perhaps that was the pushing point. The fact that Gojo Satoru’s actions got under their skin, pricked at their painfully boring thoughts and pierced through their closed-off mentality that Ieiri Shoko decided… That it sounded fun.

And that was all, really. She’s lucky her parents don’t care too much, lucky that she could ask for whatever and get it placed into her open palm with just a single request. Especially when that request was to transfer to the same elementary school as her once-almost-fiancé, Gojo Satoru.

(Who would deny it? Perhaps her parents even thought that she finally had an interest in the snowy-haired prodigy.

Ha. Not even in a million years.)

Of course, the plan was to just have a little look-see and tour this unfortunate looking place that the spoiled Gojo kid found so interesting.

She didn’t expect to find that she actually enjoyed her time here, not when she was actively swatting off the pesky flies that tried to bother her short little respite here.

Here. As in, the back of the classroom where she could read all the manga she could to her liking— Because who wouldn’t like this breathing space away from stuck-up tutors and high-strung educators who were needlessly strict?

She wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone. Not that she wanted to anyway, but it makes her feel better to at least think like she was actually trying.

…so what exactly was she doing here with you, the one directly connected to the boy she just couldn’t stand?

“And this is the playground! Satoru doesn’t like strangers here, but you don’t count cause he already knows you.” You’re… Touching her. Holding her hand like it was nothing as you pointed at the most obvious playground equipment anybody would know the names of.

It’s stupid.

“I like to c’mere a lot to think by myself.” You hum, settled comfortably on top of the slide as you lean back, your knees to your chest as you close your eyes and enjoy the summer breeze. “Especially nowadays when Satoru’s too busy with some stuff and Suguru’s got martial arts club.”

Weird. You’re weird. Don’t you know that both of them are very obviously cursed technique users? Does she have to spell it out for you? Why are they even—

“So I hope you don’t mind hanging out with me, Ieiri-san.” The sunlight catches in your eyes, your skin warmed by light rays that made you look like you were glittering under the setting sun’s orange glow. “I’m happy that you even want to talk to me.”

Yet, she thinks that it might not be so bad after-all, not when you’re sleeping on her lap, your head positioned on her thighs and her hand in your hair upon this familiar, very expensive wooden bench— That she got her maids to put pillows on.

(Just to outdo Gojo Satoru. Nothing else, really.)

“She looks comfortable.” Geto Suguru is sat close. Right by your other side as you continued to sleep, your breaths quiet and your eyes closed in such undisturbed serenity that it just felt wrong to wake you.

“That’s cause she is.”

“She could’ve slept on my shoulder.” It’s out as an almost huff, another flip of the page of the book he was reading as all of you sit together in serene peace.

“But she chose mine.” It satisfies her to know that she’s got the upper hand in this situation, that she has an advantage over the boy whose emotions she can never properly discern.

“It was just the angle, Ieiri.” Suguru huffs, eyes flippantly glaring at the words of the book he was meant to be reading— Before they met smug coffee-brown. “You don’t have to look that proud.”

“Sad that you weren’t the 1st pick?”

“You wish.”

Ieiri Shoko wouldn’t say that there was nothing between her and the other… Commoner. Wouldn’t say that she disliked or liked him just yet, for even she was confused on how a bond somehow ended up forming between them despite him, Geto Suguru not being up to par in terms of family standing or wealth.

(But with that cursed technique and natural talent for Jujutsu… No wonder he too took the Jujutsu society by storm, especially when it was discovered that the Gojo family had started training him.)

It was a solidarity formed simply by them being the sanest ones out of your little quadruple. Well, sane and actually cohesive when he was separated from the Gojo menace, anyway. Don’t get her wrong, you were cute, even had a good head on your shoulders— But you were far too easily swayed when it came to your friends.

It was almost scary how trusting you were of them.

“…if I ate it, I’ll really get better at using cursed energy…?” You’re staring at the green pepper clasped in between his chopsticks, hands subconsciously clasped over your mouth in protective defense as you watch the utensil hover near you.

And Geto Suguru was just far too practiced for you. A soft smile, his pretty purple eyes hidden behind upturned eyelids, head tilted so innocently to the side with his hair gently swishing along and exuding an air far too mellow for this situation.

“That’s right.”

(And Ieiri Shoko thinks that you’re kinda dumb, honestly. If being dumb in a good way existed, anyway.)

Maybe, only when the pinks and oranges in the clouds gather and start to hide the setting sun… That this thinks that this type of menial life wasn’t so bad afterall.

Ieiri Shoko thinks she really will enjoy her school life here, no matter how much the upper echelon of people will criticize her.

——

You’re 13 when you’re trying to sew the rip in your middle school uniform, the unfortunate tear a direct consequence of accidentally falling on your face and getting saved by a panicking classmate who was not at all very gentle with tugging at the collar of your poor sailor blouse to save you.

(Beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.)

It’s unfortunate, very much so as your eyes narrow and glare at the 3rd time you pricked yourself with a needle that didn’t want to agree with you.

(It’s definitely out to get you.)

The sound of jingling keys and the familiar way your door swings open thankfully saves your slightly mangled uniform from getting just that little bit more tattered.

The front door always creaks a little, always squeals a little too loud as you turn your head to meet familiar eyes that continue to smile regardless of fatigue, the sound of tumbling heels and a bag getting plopped onto the genkan’s old shoe cabinet.

“Mama, welcome back.”

Throughout the years, you don’t think you’ve ever been lonelier within your now slightly less empty home. You suppose it’s because when you’re older, you have to get newer stuff too. Just to match your age and the ever-changing times that the old people on TV are always complaining about.

There’s a new carpet, one softer than any of the ones you used to own. A new coffee table that didn’t shake every time your knee even grazes it wrong— And a new fancy coffee machine that Mama had been using a little too much.

(Courtesy of Geto-mama. She said it was to thank the both of you for being ‘such great neighbours’ and that ‘she hopes that you stay her neighbours forever’ with tears in her eyes.

Mama says it might be because Geto-mama’s rut was coming soon around that time.)

Mama even has a brand new, shiny job as an office lady. From a waitress running around an izakaya to a corporate worker who sat in an office chair all day.

You think it’s quite the Cinderella story in itself.

‘Never belittle your achievements, for a small step forward is still progress made!’

(You honestly liked her doing the waitressing one better. She came home at reasonable times, had some weekdays off and even brought extra food back.

Life was good when you could stuff yourself on the too many yakitori sticks she brought home.)

But everything comes to an end, you suppose. So you hope these aches Mama always gets in her shoulders do too as your hands knead into her back, little grunts escaping you as you really put your back into it.

“Ugh… How was— School today, sweetie?” Your mother sighs when you get another knot out, releasing her stiff shoulders when you press just right.

(An expected question. It was the 1st day of your new middle school after all.)

“I don’t like the uniform.” It’s slightly itchy, smells weird despite the wash in your slightly old washing machine and it wasn’t as cute as the ones you saw in all the animes you watched on TV. “It’s kinda uncomfortable.”

All because it was new. Oh, that and the unfortunate fact that your mother requested your skirt to be so long— Especially with the approaching summer soon to come, teasing stuffy, hot days and sweaty clothes.

(You don’t mind too much. Saya-chan says miniskirts are not in her top 3 favourite things to wear, after all.)

“Hmm…” She doesn’t give much of a reply, her back relaxing back into the couch and her shoulders stiffening a little more from her actions as you continue.

“The new medicine Dr. Homura gave me tastes funny too. It’s not as sweet as last time.”

You think for a little. Just a little, because this situation just requires too much of your careful attention.

“But I think it’s working okay. Suguru says I usually just smell like normal.”

“Suguru,” You tug on his sleeve, fingers having a death grip upon his uniform as you swallow. Nervously shifting your weight from a leg to the other as you hurriedly tug off the strap of your backpack, shifting your hair back as you reveal the side of your neck to him.

It only hits you now that you both were standing before the big gates of Gege Junior High, only hits you when your palms felt wet and uncomfortable, damp and nervous.

Because what if your medicine didn’t work and you somehow reveal the 1 thing Mama wanted you to keep under wraps?

“Check me again, please…” Your eyes feel like they’re going dry, pure anxiety coursing through you all at once.

Just to sate your worries.

“You shouldn’t ask just anyone to check like that,” There’s a hand on your shoulder to steady you, black strands of hair tickling your cheek as you subconsciously hold your breath.

You’re stiff when his nose grazes your neck, gently swiping against your skin as he leans in close, leans in near. His body feels so warm when there’s barely any distance between you, he smells of citrus, of lavender sprigs and soft vanilla.

“Okay?”

“Mm… Oh, and Satoru woke up late so he wasn’t even there for the opening ceremony.” He doesn’t really come to school anymore, so it was a pretty big deal when he showed up with a bedhead and bleary eyes behind a pair of sunglasses.

(And attracted a lot of attention.)

“Hmph…” He’s obviously tired, yawning with a lazy hand over his mouth as he leans on Suguru’s shoulder, a spot of drool making its way down his lip as fingers surreptitiously position themselves to flick at his forehead.

“Ow…” He barely even reacts even when Suguru hits, doesn’t even get up— And even purposely drops his body weight onto the poor boy’s sturdier form.

“Satoru— You idiot, wake up.” It’s hissed, annoyed. Yet lacking all the bite it was supposed to have as Geto simply lets the spoiled Gojo continue to do as he pleases… Albeit at his own detriment, given the eyes that were pinned onto the overtly close childhood friends.

“Serves ya right, ugly bangs…”

Middle school is gonna be okay, you think.

——

“(last name)-chan! I didn’t know you were so close with Geto-san!” You hear a dragging of a chair, only able to blink twice before there’s a lunch box clattering onto your desk. Hasty, unpracticed and rushed.

Taking you by surprise.

“Ah, huh?” You’re confused as you halt the search for the poor textbook that you were so sure you had packed last night after Suguru reminded you through the window.

(And that you were sure you hadn’t lent it to Satoru.)

But… How did she know?

“Hm? He came by yesterday to drop off something of yours, didn’t he? Even called you by your first name and everything.” You can hear the clatter of her chopsticks, the sounds of her plastic utensils getting unpacked. “You both must be quite close to be like that!”

“Or maybe… I’m wrong?” You see something diminish in her eyes, something akin to a sudden flicker of disinterest as her feet steady themselves as if they were about to leave.

“Uhm… No, I guess you’re right. We are friends,”You say it so matter-of-factly, so nonchalantly as your eyes zoom about near the collar of her uniform.

Ya- Yamo— No, it probably wasn’t that. Something different, something else. Luckily for you, these uniforms came with name tags.

“Mi— Jou-san?” Your eyes squint at the small tag, the bright blue contrasting against the navy of your uniforms, proof that you were all 1st years in junior high.

“Mhm!~ I didn’t expect anyone to be so close with those star students! Didya meet ‘em in elementary or something?”

‘Star students’. Classes were separated based on how well each individual did on the entrance exams. Divided in terms of academics, segregated based on performance.

Truly, this was the epitome of meritocracy, you think.

(But being 2 classes down from your friends does seem a little much, in your opinion.)

“Hello?~ Are ya there?” Her hand waves you back into focus, realization striking you when your eyes flicker from her name tag— To her brown eyes— Then to the whiteboard with the class schedule written down.

Your (still missing) textbook.

“You’re gonna go see them?” Her voice teeters on a tremor, a clear sparkle in her eyes and a vibration in her tone that you just can’t ignore.

“An opportunity to be nice doesn’t hurt anyone! Today, your lucky colour is blue to correct the amount of redness in today’s luck! Watch out for yourself, do good deeds and stay cautious!”

You suppose it doesn’t hurt if Suguru knows he has a fan.

——

It’s only the 5th day of the beginning of middle school life— And Gojo Satoru thinks he’s going to burst from irritation had it not been for the innocent look in your eye and the confused tilt of your head.

“Satoru? Are you okay?” A cold bar of pinkish-red ice cream appears in front of him, waving around and beckoning him to have a taste— As he just stares on with a frown.

“Maybe he’s constipated.” It’s uncommon for him to be this disinterested, this unhappy— Especially at the sight of sweet treats.

(And Geto Suguru already knows exactly what’s on his mind.)

“Do you not like the watermelon flavour after all?” You’re now despondent, shoulders slumping as you stare down at the ice cream you had gotten at the nearby convenience store after Satoru had slapped a ¥1000 bill in your hand, cheeks flushed red and claiming;

“Ya can get anything ya want.” He pushes his palm through his hair as he averts his gaze, shy, but so huffy and embarrassed as you smile at him in gratitude. “M’ sorry for not comin’ for so long.”

Gojo Satoru doesn’t mind. He shouldn’t have minded at all, really. You’re just trying out a new flavour of ice cream, right? Just trying to change it up a little and be more adventurous, aren’t you?

(Wrong. And he was pretty sure you’ve never even spared a glance at this brand of ice cream in your life, especially when he’s given you tons more of more expensive ones that you most definitely like better.)

And Gojo Satoru doesn’t mind that you’re suddenly interrogating him on ‘his type’. Doesn’t mind that you look at him with that cute curiosity in your eyes and a nod of your head as you— Don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re writing it all down in a notebook that was most definitely your ‘diary’.

(Trust him. He’s even straight up asked you to let him read it… Only for him to find logs about food, Saya-chan, anything you’ve been watching on TV recently—

And nothing juicy at all.)

“Do you think long or shorter hair is cuter, Suguru?”

The noiret’s eyes blink once before they flicker towards your own hair length, only staring for a few seconds before he was back to smiling.

“I think your length would be the most ideal.”

Hah. What a kiss-up.

(Not like he was any better.)

“Do you think twintails are cute, Satoru?” You poke at his cheek as he sits next to you, ads running on your old TV as you both await the continuation of the newest Pokemon episode.

“They’re ugly.” He huffs through a bite of chocolate, eyes turning towards you to offer you the bar as he sees your hands reach up to your own hair— And imitating said hairstyle.

“Really?” You turn to look at him with the proposed hairstyle, causing him to nearly choke as you close your eyes and think a little. “I always thought they were cute though.”

“T-They look fine, I guess.” But only on you.

“What’re ya even gathering all this useless info for anyway?” The watermelon popsicle is already in his mouth, red staining his tongue and teeth as he bites down on the cold treat— The artificial sweetness mixing strangely with the poison on his tongue. “Ya don’t think we like you enough?”

He doesn’t like this at all. Not one bit.

“No,” You begin once more as you hum, your ice cream sandwich half-eaten as you offer a bite to Suguru. “I’m learning trends.”

…what?

“Mhm.” You nod— Innocently.. “You know Mijou? The one you both met a few days ago?” The annoying one who couldn’t stop gawking, yeah, Satoru’s pretty sure he knows her, given how taken she was by him.

(“Shoko doesn’t like her.”

“That’s cause Shoko doesn’t really care about most people.”)

He remembers the way she tried to cut into every conversation, every word from you getting lapped up like a camel to water, remembers the way her smile was too tight, too forced— As if she desperately wanted to jam a puzzle piece into somewhere it just didn’t belong.

(He should be alarmed, should be annoyed. The energy this girl was radiating was sinister, was unfortunate. Yet, he knows she doesn’t even possess enough cursed energy to see cursed spirits.)

“She wants to know more about you guys too.” A nod to your testament as you lick up escaping drops of melting ice cream.

(It never hurt to know just a little more about someone.)

“I’m sure she’s nice, but,” Suguru cuts in, thankfully— With his tone of bluntness and so straight to the point. “I’d prefer knowing I’m hanging out with you and not someone else.”

(Did you really have to look surprised? They both knew you like the backs of their hands.)

“Oh.” Your eyes look to the ice creams and back to purple eyes. “Sorry, I just… Thought that you might like her a little more if you both knew some of her favourite things…”

(He’s pretty sure you’ve learned that from that talkshow you listen to every damn morning.)

“What’s got ya so interested in her till this point, anyway? Ya plannin’ to make friends with her or something?”

“…no, I don’t break my promises, Satoru.” No matter how childish and long ago they were. Yet, you blink at them as if something was wrong, as if you were distraught and confused. As if you don’t really get why they don’t understand yet.

“But cursed energy… Is made of negative emotions, right? And if they accumulate enough overtime, it can cause a cursed spirit to be born.”

“Yea. Y’er point?” Gojo Satoru is getting tired of this, and his mind begs, pleads with him to just tell you to stop trying to make them like friends such a desperate weirdo.

“(name).” Suguru cuts you off, realization peaking in his eyes as his mind catches on far too quickly for Gojo’s liking— He never fares well when it came to thinking about others, after all. “You’re not saying that you think—“

“She’s… Lonely.” There’s something flaring up in your eyes alongside your innate strength, a glow of power that Satoru’s never really seen before. “She says her parents are never really home and that she’s happy she gets the house to herself in the afternoons.”

“I-It just looks like it’s just been stewing for a really long time, since she says she gets reoccurring nightmares and night terrors. She doesn’t have enough cursed energy to see it, but—“ You take a breath in as you continue to ramble. “I could be wrong and it could just be something else… But I just have a feeling that she needs help…”

“That’s what being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is, isn’t it?”

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[heartfeltcherie]

I'm here for Alastor and Lucifer meeting a sinner who is in personality like Aurora 🥺

aurora is my favourite disney princess so this was so fun and exciting to write <33 (unless you didn’t mean that kind of concept then… completely disregard this lol)

☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •

lucifer;

it must have been one of his lucky days (which he counts a lot, since he doesn’t have many of them) when lucifer crossed paths with you. and he was sure the pupils in his eyes had taken the form of hearts because “oh my golly, you’re so beautiful.” and he doesn’t realize he’s said that out loud until he hears the most angelic giggle (which is odd, beings as you’re in hell) paired with a soft spoken voice. “oh, thank you. you’re too kind”

how you ended up in hell, let alone the pride ring, absolutely baffled him. you’re too sweet, and kind, and gentle to be down here amongst these other sinners who left their manners back in their past life.

upon meeting you, he wonders if he’s got a chance with you. your relationship flashes in his mind of him making you laugh with his terrible jokes and him showing you his entire collection of rubber ducks (he’s sure to go home and make a new one, inspired by you, of course).

he melts when he sees how good you are with razzle, dazzle, and keekee — he swears he’s never met someone so amazing with animals before. and the way you’re so kind to his daughter and her friends makes him think that he’s found the one… which is a lot, since he lost lilith so long ago.

he takes you back to his house and puts on a show for you both to watch (some old timey film that you suggested).

he tells you to make yourself comfortable and he feels his heart leap when you lay down and put your head on his lap.

“sorry, is this too much? i can move-”

“no! no, you’re perfect right there- uhm. you don’t need to move, i-it’s pretty cozy”

“hehe okay :)”

it doesn’t take long before lucifer realizes he’s the only one watching the film while you’re fast asleep in the comfort of his lap. he looks down at you all soft and chuckles to himself.

“yup. this is definitely a sign”

alastor;

he’s very… confused, when he first meets you. tilting his head with that same smile he usually has on his face, leaving everyone to wonder what he’s truly thinking… and it’s about you.

he feels it’s a mistake. a dumb mistake made by those things that have the audacity to call themselves “angels”. you’re too perfect, and good to be in a place like this. you deserve to be in a place filled with greenery and soft shades of pinks and lavenders, not in the fiery depths of hell.

you’re shy. and he takes notice of this right away, using it for his own personal advantage; enjoying the way you stumble over your words and nervously fidget with your hands as he asks you “cat got your tongue, my dear?”

“it’s not everyday you come face-to-face with a powerful overlord”

he doesn’t know what or how he feels about you, but there’s a feeling stirring down inside of him. something perhaps like… adoration? no, it couldn’t be. he never feels that way towards anyone.

but you’ve got this softness that surrounds your whole being that he can’t shake from his mind — you’ve even (accidentally, oops) called him handsome which caused his ears to twitch and a very loud record scratch that hurt poor husk’s ears.

“i’m well aware, my dear. but you’re kindness is appreciated”

everyone sees the way you both secretly look at each other (alastor denies it but he knows it’s true) and you can’t help but be nervous every time alastor is next to you, pinks cheeks and a fast beating heart that you’re sure he hears.

“i’ve noticed you get quite on the edge when i’m near you. pray tell why that is?”

“al, it’s… nothing”

“don’t worry, cher. you’re lucky i happen to like the sound of your beating heart. especially knowing that it’s mine. isn’t that right?”

taglist 🏷️ @crystal-rayn @drxgonspine

comments and reblogs are great appreciated!

[scarletemeraldpurple]

Kinktober Day 2: Marking

Agatha Harkness x Sapphic Reader

Wanda keeps flirting with you and Agatha needs to stake her claim. She doesn’t expect her methods to make you cum

Content notes: Lots and lots of biting, reader is called good girl, sweet girl, slut, pain slut, masochist. Reader cums from getting bit and nipple play. Use of magical restraints.

“I hate that she keeps flirting with you.” Agatha said.

“She’s like that with everyone. You know Wanda.” You assured. “And you know I’m yours.”

“I know. But maybe she needs a reminder.”

“What are you thinking?” You said, playfully tilting your head to the side.

Agatha smiled at you. “Well, that’ll be a good start.”

And soon you were pressed against the wall with Agatha pressing kisses to the side of your neck. They were sloppy and opened mouthed, but not quite what either of you were looking for, yet.

“Please Agatha.” You whined.

“Please what?” She murmured agains against your skin.

“Please Agatha, please leave a mark.”

“Good girl. But you know I’m not stopping at one right?”

“You better not.”

Agatha finally sunk her teeth into you and you practically squeaked. She held you firm, not letting you squirm away. Then she sucked hard on the spot until she was sure you’d have a deep purple spot that would stay for days.

Your thoughts started to go fuzzy. Your neck was such a sensitive spot and Agatha knew just how to mark you unravel.

“So pretty with my mark on you. I think the other side should match hm?”

“Yes ma’am” was all you could muster in response.

“You’re such a little masochist. Sometimes I wonder if you could cum from my bites. Maybe we should try hm?” Agatha said. She left a few firm kisses with her lips before sinking in once again.

“Fuck.” You moaned and whimpered as she sunk into you more and more, pushing you just to your limit.

“There’s no hiding these is there baby?”

You shook your head.

Agatha smiled. “You already look like mine, but I bet you’d like every inch of you to look like mine hm?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good girl” She said, guiding you to the bedroom.

She stripped off your shirt to reveal your bare back and chest.

“Y’know what, I’d better get you to the bed. I know how weak in the knees my bites get you.”

She led you by the wrist and laid you down. Magical binds keeping your hands trapped to your sides. Your legs were spread apart a bit and held down by the ankles.

Agatha straddled you. “Such a helpless little thing. And all mine to play with.”

She moved to start kissing your collar bone. You squeaked as she bit the same spot. She repeated the process on the other side. She couldn’t bite you as hard here, but the noises you were making were still delicious.

She moved to your chest. Sinking into the fleshiest part, steadily applying more pressure until you were moaning and squirming. She soothed the area with her tongue and moved to take a nipple into her mouth.

“Feels so good ma’am, love being yours.” You said breathlessly.

Agatha popped up, “such a little pain slut. I love claiming every inch of you baby.”

She left a handful of marks across both sides of your chest of varying sizes and intensity. You were throbbing between your legs from what her mouth was doing to you.

Agatha moved down to your stomach, which she knew was especially sensitive to her bites. You drew in sharp breaths and gasps as Agatha had her fun. She trailed her hand between your legs and felt your arousal.

“Such a needy little thing. Nobody else gets you worked up like this, do they?” Agatha asked.

“No ma’am, only you.”

“Good girl.”

Finally she was between your thighs. She undid your wrists.

“Be a good girl and play with your nipples for me.” She instructed.

You pinched and pulled and rubbed while she sank her teeth hard into your inner thigh. Unexpectedly, and orgasm washed over you. Agatha watched in awe as your hips bucked against nothing and as you whimpered and moaned for her.

She let you recover and undid the rest of her magic.

“Y’know hon, I was mostly kidding earlier.”

“I can’t help what you do to me.”

“I suppose you can’t. Oh you look so pretty already, sweet girl.” Agatha said as she admired how thr bruises were blooming all over you.

“Not that you aren’t always stunning, but right now, you are so undeniably mine.” She said, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your forehead.

“All yours, always.” You said sleepily.

[mavrintarou]

[Daddies in December] Namikaze Minato

I am on a roll! Lol. Not Haikyuu but... you have to admit, Minato is quite a daddy. Not how I would have liked to write my first story on Minato - it is dark (well, I consider his behavior dark).

Warning: manipulating Minato, explicit pregancy smut. If you're new, this is my third day writing a Daddies in December - check out Akaashi and Sakusa in my masterlist :)

.

For the last ten minutes, Minato observed Y/n sleeping peacefully, even after a night of lovemaking in the early hours. His fingers gently caressed her cheek, and he smiled whenever her brows furrowed, drawing her closer to his comforting arms.  

He tightens his arms around her, molding her body into his as he rests his chin on the crown of her head.

Y/n let out a soft sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist.

I’m never going to let you go, he thought to himself.

He will live with the sins of breeding her to keep her by his side. That was the only way he was sure he could tie her to him for life. He knew Y/n was loyal and dreamed of a family. Who would be best to make that happen? Him. She did not realize it yet, but he was the best thing she had and he was the only thing she needed. Together, they will raise their child and live happily.

He kept track of her monthly cycle, timing her fertile days and the day she ovulated to ensure an almost guaranteed pregnancy. He then monitored her symptoms, kept a close on her, and continued to shower her with affection.

When he would feel her hesitate or feel her feelings and affection change, he would reel her back in.

Who was there for her when the pipes in her apartment building burst? Him.

Who was there for her when a stranger tried to rob her? Him.

“Stay close to me, Y/n. I’ll protect you. Only I can protect you.” He cooed, calming her down.

A month and a half goes by and Minato continued to pay close attention to her body, seeing if his cum had taken place but Y/n showed no signs of being pregnant.

He wasted no time fucking her at any chance he got. He punctured all the condoms he purchased with a needle, even a few times just in case.

Minato was becoming possessive by the day and all that was on his mind was Y/n.

He had accidentally slipped, scaring her.

“You’re supposed to be mine!” he shouted, angry that Y/n could not understand why he wouldn’t allow her to go out with her colleagues. He quickly tried to apologize, turn the tables that he was just insecure because he didn’t trust her male colleagues to not make a move on her.

He could see it in her eyes as she tried to play it off that it wasn’t a big deal but he knew Y/n, he knew she was plotting to run.

Run from him.

And he wasn’t going to allow it.

But this one time, he did. He knew he would get her back soon enough.

He let her go for a week, it killed him. Minato kept a close eye on her, hired someone to keep a tab on her every move and to keep her safe.

Until the day came…

He smiled as he opened the door, seeing a complete mess Y/n. “Come here, baby.” He opened his arms and she crashed into him, finding peace in him.

The words she said to him over the phone repeated over in his head, “I’m pregnant, Minato… what do we do?”

“We’re going to get married,” he responded with a firm yet gentle tone. “I am committed to doing the honorable thing – marrying you and ensuring that you and our child bear my last name.” She opened her mouth to protest when he pressed a finger to her lips, “it is the right thing to do for our child, we must think about them now, not us.” Knowing he was right, he pulled her into his arms, “leave everything to me. Everything will be alright. You just worry about staying healthy for our baby.”

He moved Y/n into his condo, remodeling his place to accommodate a child.

“Everything I do is for you and baby,” Minato whispered, tilting her chin and pressing his lips to hers. He smiled when she kissed him back, hungrily.

Y/n mumbled something and wiggled in his arms, trying to put space between them.

“What?” he asked.

“Too hot…” she repeated, still half asleep. “Too hot…”

Minato clicked his tongue and loosened his hold on her as she rolled around in his arms, away from him. She kicked the comforters, exposing her naked body.

His morning wood had been aching and he has been putting it off.

Scooting closer, he spooned her. His hand reached around and between her legs, a satisfied smile on his face as he felt how wet she was considering he had wiped her down.

“Y/n,” he cooed, slipping a finger into her heat.

“No – no more…” she tried to push his hand away, yet her thighs closed in.

“I need you,” he whispered, lifting her leg to slide his cock in between her thighs. Her soft whimper was all he needed to know that she was giving in to him. “I need you, badly… please?”

She looked over her shoulders, “be… gentle…”

Pressing a kiss to her naked shoulder, “promise.” He shift her half on her front side and moved behind on top of her. Bending her leg, he guide his cock into her wet pussy.

He could never have enough of her.

He rocked slowly, reminding himself to be gentle.

Minato reach to massage her tit, before spreading his palm against her belly.

When he first met her, he knew she was his. She was already beautiful to his eyes but with the glow of her pregnancy, Minato vowed he was going to keep that glow in her.

If that meant he would keep putting a baby in her, he would. She glowed so beautifully.

“Mina…” she reached for his arm, “f – faster…”

“You said you gentle…” he teased, snapping his hips. He lift her leg, hooking it over his shoulder.

“Gentle and fast…”

“And deeper?”

“And deeper.”

Minato nipped her ankle, and gripped her thigh, holding it in place as he rocked deeper into her. His thumb found her swollen clit and began rubbing.

“No – no… I’ll cum…”

“That’s the whole point,” he chuckled, he too was close to cumming. Y/n tensed and twisted her body, cumming on his cock as he fasten his hips until he ejaculated.

He pressed a kiss to her ankle, the fresh teeth mark before setting her leg down. Leaning over he pressed a kiss to her lips, “good morning.”

. . .

E/n: This man... nothing edited, just whipping these at the moment.

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[amitiel-truth]

River Maiden Pt. 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,

(A/N: Do you ever wonder what's the meaning of the colors you see? 🙃)

*Not Proofread, sorry*

🔞Sexual innuendos🔞

Telemachus holds (Y/N) close, his arms encircling her protectively, as they lay together in a comfortable silence. He runs his fingers gently through her hair, his touch tender and soothing, relishing in the feeling of her body pressed against his. He wishes they could stay like this forever, in this moment of intimacy and peace, shielded from the world and all its troubles.

"I just realized, It's too early to sleep, and it's too early to couple when you brought me here" (Y/N) points out, low and behold, Telemachus's window shows that it's only the afternoon.

Telemachus chuckles at her realization, his gaze flickering to the window to see that, indeed, the sun is still high in the sky.

"You're right," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "I suppose I was a little too eager to bring you here, wasn't I?"

"I was just dressed by your mother and you can barely keep it to yourself~" (Y/N) teases, stroking his chest.

"Hey, cut me some slack," he protests half-heartedly. "You're absolutely breathtaking, I couldn't help myself. You can't blame me for being a bit impatient when I have such a nymph in my bed."

"You really convince that I'm not human, aren't you? When will you accept that I'm simply (Y/N)?" (Y/N) asked teasingly.

"I can help it, My Nymph, you're too pretty simply be human" Telemachus compliments, caressing her cheek.

"You flatter me too much~" (Y/N) swoons, laying her head on his chest

"...what shall we do now?"

Telemachus hums thoughtfully as he considers her question, his fingers idly tracing patterns on her back.

"Well, we could stay here and continue to bask in each other's embrace," he suggests, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "Or we could venture out into the garden for a walk, or go down to the beach and feel the sand between our toes. Or..."

He tilts her chin up so that she's looking at him, a sly smile on his lips as his eyes glimmer with mischief.

He leans down, his mouth near her ear, and lowers his voice to a whisper

"Or, we could stay here and I could have my way with you again~"

"You ravenous beast!" (Y/N) scolded, throwing a pillow at his face.

"You're still inside me, you know, keeping your seed trapped" (Y/N) points out, slapping his chest.

Telemachus laughs and catches the pillow as it hits him in the face. He grins down at her, not at all shamed or remorseful for his words.

"Can you blame me?” he responds, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at her.

“How can I resist when I have such a delectable and willing nymph in my bed? And yes, I'm well aware that I'm still inside you, keeping my seed inside you. It's a very pleasant feeling" He leans down, nipping her ear.

"We barely even met and you're already planning on it to take aren't you?" Telemachus chuckles at her words, his lips curving into a sly smile. He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at her with an unabashed eagerness.

"Is it that obvious?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. "Can you blame me? You're far too beautiful and enticing to resist. I've never met anyone quite like you, and I can't help but want to make you mine, completely and utterly."

"By getting me pregnant on the second day? You work fast, don't you my Prince~." (Y/N) points out with a teasing smile.

Telemachus grins at her response, his eyes glimmering with desire and mischief.

"And what if that is my intention?” he counters, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

“Is that such a bad thing? To make you mine, to have you carry my child, to bind you to me forever and always?"

"I don't mind if it's you" (Y/N) answers, pecking his lips.

Telemachus's heart races and his breath catches in his chest at her simple yet honest response. He reaches out and cups her face in his hand, his thumb gently stroking her cheek as he looks down at her with a mixture of desire and tenderness.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with emotion. "To know that you would willingly give yourself to me, to bear my child..."

"Now don't get too ahead of ourselves now, I want to get to know this place as well as get to know your Mother, the poor woman had enough heart attacks from the both of us" (Y/N) calms him down, placing a finger on his lips.

Telemachus laughs, amused and slightly chagrined by her words. He knows she's right, that they should slow down a bit and take some time to get acquainted with his home and his family.

"You're right, you're right," he concedes, although reluctantly. "I suppose we should take a break and satisfy your curiosity about my home and family."

"And most importantly" (Y/N) cups his cheek.

"I wish to get to know you more"

Telemachus's expression softens at her words, his heart swelling with affection for her. The realization that she's not just interested in him physically, but also wants to get to know him on a deeper level, means the world to him.

"You have no idea how much that means to me" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to get to know you too, every aspect of you. Your hopes, your dreams, your fears, your quirks..."

"I'm glad you didn't fall in love with me for just my body" (Y/N) teases, grinning at him.

Telemachus laughs and rolls his eyes, amused by her jest. He gently pinches her side, chuckling at her little squeak of protest.

"Oh, don't worry, I did fall in love with your body," he teases back, his eyes roaming over her form with a possessive, appreciative gaze. "But it's not the only thing I love about you. You're so much more than that. You're smart, and strong, and witty, and so damn stubborn...and that body as well." Telemachus jokes.

"You insatiable man." (Y/N) scold him a little, slapping his bare chest.

Telemachus laughs, unrepentant as he catches her hand in his, holding it against his chest. He brings her hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles as repentance.

"Guilty as charged," he responds with a wicked grin. "But can you blame me? With such a beautiful, captivating woman in my bed, how else am I supposed to act?"

"You mean by the river" (Y/N) reminded, making Telemachus remember their very first time at the river two days ago.

"Ah yes, the river," he says, a smile tugging at his lips. "How could I forget? That was certainly a... memorable experience. But the bed is much preferable, I must say."

"What? The river wasn't preferable to you?" (Y/N) asked teasingly.

Telemachus snorts, shaking his head in amusement at her teasing. He leans down, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

"Don't get me wrong, it was a very enjoyable experience," he says, his voice laced with a hint of mock-offense. "But the bed is far more comfortable, and far more private. And I, for one, enjoy being able to take my time and fully enjoy your body without having to worry about someone stumbling upon us."

"With how much you were pounding me by the river side like a rabid beast I highly doubt you'd care about anyone stumbling upon us" (Y/N) teases, tracing a finger on his chest.

"Fair point, fair point," he admits, his eyes sparkling with humor and desire as he gazes down at her. "Once I had you in my arms, I doubt anything could have stopped me. I was quite... feral, wasn't I?"

"But you're my feral beast, no one else~" (Y/N) reiterated, pecking his lips.

"Damn right, I'm your feral beast," he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. "And you're my beautiful nymph, mine and mine only. I won't let anyone else have you, ever."

"Alright, calm down, you feral beast of the night, let's go take a bath" (Y/N) calms him down, standing up, albeit with a bit of a struggle, before pulling him to his washroom.

Telemachus laughs, amused by her banter, and allows her to pull him up and lead him into the washroom. He follows behind her eagerly, his gaze roaming over her bare form without an ounce of shame. As soon as they enter the washroom, he wraps his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss against the nape of her neck.

"Let me help you, my love," Telemachus whispers in her ear, his voice a low rumble as (Y/N) began cleaning herself, lifting a pail of water.

"Carry this for me then" (Y/N) requested, handing him a pail of water.

Telemachus takes the pail from her "Anything for you," he replies with a small smile, holding the pail firmly in his hands. "What do you want me to do with it?"

"Wash yourself" (Y/N) said with a teasing smile, scrubbing her arm.

Telemachus raises an eyebrow, his expression filled with mock-indignation. "You're just going to make me wash myself while you stand there all sudsy and temptingly delicious?" he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful accusation.

"Yes" (Y/N) answers blankly, rinsing herself.

Telemachus grumbles under his breath, but he can't help the small smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches her rinsing herself. He sets the pail down and grabs the ladle, scooping up some water to wash himself.

"You're a cruel woman, you know that?" he says, his tone half-joking, half-serious as he scrubs his body.

"You may be my feral beast but I prefer you to be clean" (Y/N) commented, pecking his lips with an innocent kiss.

"You make a valid point," he concedes, smiling down at her. "I suppose I don't mind being a clean feral beast, as long as it pleases you."

"Your Mother would too, poor woman, the shenanigans you pulled as a child" (Y/N) points out, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Ugh, don't remind me," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. "I was quite the troublemaker as a child, I'll admit it. My poor mother had her hands full with me. I'm lucky she still loves me, despite all the chaos I caused."

"Every Mother does" (Y/N) states, as she began drying herself in one of Telemachus' towels.

Telemachus watches as she dries herself, his gaze roaming over her body appreciatively. He reaches out, taking the towel from her and running it gently over her skin, helping to dry her off. He can't help but run his hands over her smooth flesh, wanting to touch and feel every inch of her.

"You're right," he says, his voice is low and rough with desire. "My mother is a saint for putting up with me all these years."

(Y/N) chuckles at his actions over her. "You're awfully doting, is this the Prince's aftercare?" (Y/N) asked teasingly.

Telemachus laughs and rolls his eyes, not denying the suggestion. He continues running the towel over her body, his touch slow and deliberate.

"Perhaps," he responds, a hint of a smirk on his face. "Is there anything wrong with a Prince wanting to take care of his beloved nymph after some... vigorous activities?"

"His Nymph would say...he should do it more often~" (Y/N) teases, pecking his lips.

Telemachus chuckles and grins. He tosses the towel aside and pulls her closer against him

"Is that so?" he murmurs, his voice low and sultry as he presses kisses against her neck and shoulder. "You want me to pamper you more often, do you?"

"Well I am to sire your children, after all so...better start somewhere~" (Y/N) teases, stroking his chest.

Telemachus laughs again, the sound deep and rich as he pulls her even closer against him, his body pressing against hers. "You're incorrigible, you know that?" he murmurs, his fingers tracing a path down her spine.

"You can't even resist the opportunity to tease me and rile me up, even when I'm trying to be a proper Prince and take care of you. It's positively maddening."

"Ah ah ah, calm yourself down, My Prince~" (Y/N) teases, splashing water to his face.

Telemachus sputters as the water splashes him in the face, caught completely off guard by the unexpected attack. He blinks, shaking his head to clear the water from his eyes, then glares playfully down at (Y/N).

"You little minx." he growls, his words laced with mock-irritation. "You just can't help yourself, can you? Always finding new ways to tease and rile me up, even when I'm trying to behave myself."

(Y/N) laughs at his proclaim "Since when have you ever behaved yourself?" She points out, as she begins to wear the shimmering midnight blue chiton Queen Penelope gifted her.

Telemachus watches as she puts on the shimmering blue chiton fabric, his eyes raking over her body appreciatively. He can't help but admire how the material looks against her skin, the way it drapes over her curves... He groans, his gaze darkening with desire as he tries to hold himself back from pouncing on her.

"I do behave myself... occasionally," he says, his voice a low grumble as he tries to keep his hands to himself. "But you make it so damn difficult."

"Well behave yourself then, because I want that tour, and get to know your mother more" (Y/N) points out, crossing her arms, waiting for her Prince to dress himself up.

Telemachus sighs dramatically, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from her. He picks up a towel and dries himself off quickly, struggling to rein in his desire and focus on her request. Once he's decently dry, he quickly dresses himself, trying to ignore the way his body is still thrumming with desire for her.

"Fine, fine," he grumbles, although there's no real annoyance in his voice. "I'll behave myself and show you around the palace. But after that... you're all mine, Nymph."

"No no, Your Mother's planning on giving me a few lessons on etiquette, I'm afraid you'll have to wait, My Prince~" (Y/N) reveals once more with a smile.

"You're going to make me wait, are you?" he asks, his voice laced with exaggerated disappointment. "You're truly a cruel woman, my Nymp. Leaving me all teased up and eager, and then telling me I have to wait to have you. It's torture, pure torture."

(Y/N) laughs as they began walking out of his room with Telemachus leading the way.

"Is it really that torturous when you just had your way with me earlier?" (Y/N) asked, tilting her head.

"When you put it that way... no, it's not that torturous, I suppose," he grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. "But still, I can't help but want you every second of the day. It's like a damn maddening itch I can't scratch."

"Keep it to yourself for now, My beloved, and on with the tour, please?" (Y/N) pats his cheek, holding his arm.

"As you wish, my beautiful Nymph," he says, with a small sigh. "Now, let me show you my humble home."

Telemachus leads her through the palace, showing off the various rooms and areas, while sharing stories and anecdotes about his adolescence and time growing up here.

Eventually, they come to the grand Hall, its high ceilings and pillars a testament to the palace's opulence.

"And this," he says, gesturing to the room with a flourish, "Is where the legendary Suitors will be making fools of themselves for the foreseeable future."

"Suitors? Who are they,exactly?" (Y/N) asked, tilting her head.

Telemachus' expression darkened, his jaw clenching slightly. He didn't really want to think or talk about the Suitors, but he figured he shouldn't have expected to avoid the topic forever.

"They're a group of pompous, self-important assholes who've been camped out in my home for the last thirteen years," he mutters, his voice low and filled with anger and disgust. "They're here, supposedly, to compete for my Mother's hand in marriage and the throne. But truthfully, they're just a bunch of arrogant assholes getting drunk and making fools of themselves every night."

"They just don't want to leave your Mother alone, don't they?" (Y/N) asked in a somber tone.

"That's an understatement," Telemachus grumbles darkly.

"They're parasites, sucking the life and joy from my home and my family. They show up under the pretenses of wanting to marry my Mother and become king, but the truth is they're just a bunch of spoiled, selfish brats who want the power and prestige that comes with the throne." His grip on her arm tightens for a moment, his anger and frustration palpable.

(Y/N) caresses his arm, trying to calm him down.

Telemachus lets out a deep sigh, some of the tension draining from his body as she caresses his arm. He gazes down at her, his expression softening as he looks at her comforting gesture.

"Sorry," he mutters, his voice quiet and contrite. "I hate talking about the Suitors. They just disgust me. And I've had to deal with them for so long that it's hard not to let it rile me up."

"It's understandable, you've dealt with them ever since you were a child" (Y/N) said with a smile.

"Yes, far too long," he mumbles, scowling as he gazes at the empty Hall. "They're such obnoxious fools. All they do is sit around, stuffing their faces and drinking my family's wine. They care more about the luxurious lifestyle and power they think they'll obtain than they do about anything actually important."

"If only your Father were here" (Y/N) sadly muses, holding his arm.

Telemachus nods in agreement, his expression solemn. He stares out at the empty ballroom, his thoughts turning to his long-absent father.

"If only," he mutters, his voice heavy with a mix of sadness, anger, and longing. "But he's been gone for so long now. Mother still holds out hope that he'll return someday, but I... I've given up on that dream, honestly."

"It's okay to feel that way, My love" (Y/N) reassures with a sad smile.

"Thank you," he says quietly, his voice soft and sincere. "It's not easy to give up on the idea of a lost parent, but it's been so long now that I've resigned myself to the fact that he's gone and won't be coming back. It hurts, but life must go on. And I have you now, so I suppose it's not all bad."

"Is that why you've been training so hard?" Egeria asked, fussing over him.

"Yes, that's part of it," he says, his voice quiet. "The absence of my father... it's always weighed heavily on me. I've trained hard to become stronger, to prove that I can stand on my own. It's a way to push through the pain and not let it bring me down."

(Y/N) looks at him in shock, stunned, before smiling fondly at him, pulling him into a hug

"I couldn't believe I could even fall harder for you, Telemachus" (Y/N) admits, blush dusting across her cheeks

Telemachus melts into her embrace, her words and the feeling of her body against his instantly soothing his troubled emotions. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, relishing the way her hair feels against his skin. He wraps his arms around her in return, hugging her tightly against him.

"You're so sweet, my nymph," he mumbles against her skin, his voice low and affectionate. "You have no idea how much hearing you say that means to me."

"When will you ever drop that Nymph theory?" (Y/N) asked while still hugging him.

"Probably never. I prefer to keep thinking of you as a nymph," He replies, his voice a low, playful rumble. "It suits you, you know. A beautiful, exotic river nymph... it fits you perfectly."

"You and your nicknames~" (Y/N) rolls her eyes, before pecking his lips.

"What can I say? I like giving you nicknames," he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate. "And you're just so lovely, it's hard to stop myself from coming up with new ones for you. My beautiful nymph, my sweet (Y/N)... the list goes on."

"Ok, ok, you Love Bug, I still need to be taught under your Mother, I bet you have a lot of Royal duties or training to attend to" (Y/N) points out, smiling fondly at him.

"Ugh, why do you have to be so sensible?" he grumbles, giving her a mock-glare. "But you're right. I hate it, but I do have things I need to do. Training and other royal duties. Ugh."

"Well, you do wish to be strong and responsible, correct?" (Y/N) asked, tilting her head.

Telemachus sighs, knowing she's right once again. Yes, he does want to be strong and responsible, even if it wasn't always easy. He nods, his pout softening into a resigned expression.

"Yes, I do," he replies, his voice resigned. "And I suppose that means letting you go so you can go have your etiquette lessons with my Mother. Begrudgingly letting you go, that is."

"Don't worry my Beloved, we'll see each other later" (Y/N) smiles, pecking his lips once more, as he began guiding her to his Mother's Quarters.

"I know, I know," he mutters, pouting slightly. "But it still doesn't make it easier to let you go. I'll miss you while you're off learning how to be all proper and poised. I much prefer you being a wild nymph, if I'm being honest."

"But if I were to stand next to you one day, It'll only embarrass not only you, but all of Ithaca, correct?" (Y/N) asked, making Telemachus shocked at how dedicated she is to him, to the point of changing herself for him.

Telemachus stops in his tracks, completely taken aback by her words. He stares at her. He can't believe that she would be so willing to change herself for him, to become more "proper" simply because she wants to stand beside him one day.

"(Y/N)..." he says slowly, his voice full of awe and emotion. "You... you really would do that? For me?"

"I'd do anything for you, Telemachus" (Y/N) stated, a smile on her lips.

Without saying a word, he steps forward and pulls her into a tight, almost desperate embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he mumbles against her skin, his voice thick with emotion. "You're so sweet, so wonderful... you're everything I could ever want, everything I could ever need. I'm the luckiest man alive to have found you, My Nymph. Gods, I love you so much it's almost painful."

"Telemachus, you deserve me, You big heart won me over on day one" (Y/N) reassures, patting his back as he began tearing up.

Telemachus buries his face even further into her neck "I don't deserve you, (Y/N)" he mutters, his voice filled with a mixture of love, self-deprecation, and a hint of insecurity. "You're too perfect, too wonderful. I'm just... me. How could the gods have blessed me with you?"

"Will you please stop being lovey dovey in front of my door? As much as I like seeing such a sight, I'd like it not as frequent as possible" Queen Penelope suddenly opens her door, making the two love birds leap out of their embrace

Telemachus looks like a mixture of flustered and embarrassed, his face turning slightly red. "Ah... Mother," he says sheepishly, trying to compose himself as best as he can. "We... uh... we were just...We were just coming to see you so I could drop (Y/N) off." he explains, trying to act casual even though his heart is still racing.

Penelope glances at the two of them, a slight smirk on her lips as she takes in their flustered states. She can see the affection between them, and it warms her heart, if not also slightly amuses her.

"Ah yes, I see that," she says, her voice laced with slight amusement. "Well, you've arrived just in time. Come, my dear (Y/N), let us start your lessons."

"Coming" (Y/N) answers, walking to Penelope's door, smiling at Telemachus before disappearing into his Mother's door.

Telemachus watches as Egeria follows his Mother inside, closing the door behind them. Telemachus stands there for a moment longer, still processing everything that just happened. Then, with a mix of eagerness and impatience, he heads off to his own training.

(Y/N) looks around Penelope's quarters, before setting her gaze to a weaving mechanism she never saw before.

"What is that?" (Y/N) asked, curious.

Penelope looks at the weaving mechanism that (Y/N) is looking at, a smile on her face. She walks over to it and runs her hand over the smooth wood, clearly proud of it.

"This, my dear (Y/N), is a loom. It's a tool used for weaving fabric and creating cloth," she explains, her voice filled with warmth and wisdom. "It's been used for generations, a symbol of tradition and craftsmanship."

"What are you making?" (Y/N) asked, looking at the cloth she's making.

"It's beautiful"

Penelope glances down at the cloth she's weaving and smiles.

"Thank you," she says, a hint of sadness in her voice. "This is a burial shroud. It's for Laertes, Telemachus's grandfather. But I suppose you could say I'm... taking my time with it." (Y/N) tilted her head in confusion

Penelope sees the confused expression on (Y/N)'s face, and she chuckles softly. She takes a seat on a nearby chair and gestures for (Y/N) to sit as well.

"You see, my dear, I've been using this shroud as an excuse to not select one of the suitors," she explains. "I tell them I won't chose one until I finish it, but the truth is, I have no intention of ever finishing it. Especially now that Telemachus is courting you."

(Y/N) blushes a bit, before understanding the reason.

"...I see where Telemachus gets his cunning from" (Y/N) states with a smile.

Penelope grins, pleased that (Y/N) understood her meaning.

"Ah, yes, Telemachus is a bit more clever than he lets on," she replies, her voice affectionate. "And it seems he takes after me more than his father in some ways."

She chuckles softly and pats (Y/N)'s hand. Her expression then turns a bit more serious.

"But my dear, there is something I need to discuss with you.

As I'm sure Telemachus has told you, the situation on Ithaca has grown... tense. These suitors, they grow more impatient and unruly with each passing day. I fear that they may resort to drastic measures soon, if we don't find a way to placate them."

"Then...what can I do to help?" (Y/N) asked, looking at the Queen, worried.

Penelope smiles, appreciating (Y/N)'s willingness to help.

"My dear, I must admit, I'm impressed by your dedication to Telemachus and to helping Ithaca," she says, her voice full of admiration. "But for now, the best thing you can do is be there for Telemachus. Support him, encourage him. He needs it, more than he lets on, You're good for him, my dear. You give him strength."

"I will, I promise" (Y/N) smiles, nodding at Penelope.

Penelope nods in approval, satisfied with (Y/N)'s determination.

"Good."

She stands up, gesturing for (Y/N) to do the same.

"Now, let us get started with your lessons. We have much to cover, and I have a feeling you'll be a quick learner."

Over the next few hours, Penelope instructs (Y/N) in the ways of etiquette and grace, teaching her how to walk, speak, and comport herself with elegance.

She demonstrates proper table manners, move with a certain regalness, and emphasizes the importance of being poised and unflappable under pressure.

There are moments of laughter and struggle, but (Y/N) proves to be a quick learner as Penelope had predicted. Despite her naturally carefree and unassuming demeanor, she absorbs the lessons with a focus and determination that is both admirable and impressive.

As the lesson continues, Penelope finds herself marveling at (Y/N)'s progress and adaptability.

"You know, (Y/N), I must say, you're picking up these lessons quite quickly," she observes with a hint of curiosity. "Perhaps... perhaps a bit too quickly."

"Oh, Thank you, My Aunt taught me a lot of things, she's quite a graceful and intelligent woman" (Y/N) explains with a fond smile

Penelope nods, her curiosity piqued even more. There's something about the way (Y/N) mentions her Aunt that leaves her unsatisfied with that simple answer. In that brief mention, she can tell that there's much more to her story.

"Your Aunt, you say..." she muses, her voice trailing off. "...she must be quite a remarkable woman."

"Very much so, She's one of the few people I know at the side of my Family" (Y/N) answers with a smile.

Penelope observes (Y/N) quietly for a moment longer, noting the slight change in her expression. There's a hint of sadness and resentment underlying her words that speaks volumes.

"I see," she says gently. "It seems you and your family... don't get along well."

"I've only met a few of them, but I'm still not close to many of them because of my Father's tendencies" (Y/N) explains with a sad smile.

"Ah... I understand that all too well, my dear," she says quietly, her voice soft with empathy. "Family can be... complicated, to put it mildly."

"But I swear! I don't wish to complicate anything for Telemachus, I wish for a happy family as well, Mother" (Y/N) reassures Penelope, worried she might see (Y/N)'s past unfit for Telemachus.

"Of course, my dear, I know you have nothing but good intentions," she reassures her. "And I can see your devotion to Telemachus. It's quite plain, for all to see."

She pauses, considering her next words.

"But my concern is not just about Telemachus. It's about you, as well."

She steps closer and takes (Y/N)'s hand in hers. Her gaze is serious but caring.

"You come from a complicated family, This can be a heavy burden to bear. But more than that..."

She lets out a sigh, carefully choosing her words.

"It's the secret you're hiding from him, dearest. That... troubles me."

(Y/N) flinches, she knew it, she knew she couldn't hide it from a mother, as she closes her eyes, holding Penelope's hand firmly.

"I'm not sure if I have the strength to tell him yet, Mother" (Y/N) frowns.

Penelope squeezes (Y/N)'s hand, her touch firm yet gentle. She nods, understanding the struggle (Y/N) is facing.

"I understand, my dear. I know it's not easy. But... the secret you're holding, it's bound to come to light eventually. And the longer you wait, the harder it will be to share it, You can't keep it hidden forever."

"Ok, but...I wish to tell you first, to see if you'd still give your blessing for us...to me" (Y/N) said with a frown.

Penelope's eyes widen, surprised by (Y/N)'s request. She considers it for a moment, her expression serious but open-minded.

"Very well, my dear. If you wish to share your secret with me first, then I shall listen. But remember, I cannot give my blessing based on my opinion alone. Telemachus must know the truth as well."

"Ok...here it goes" (Y/N) takes a deep breath, looking directly at Penelope

"I'm... Poseidon's daughter"

Penelope's eyes widen even further, the revelation catching her off guard. She knew (Y/N) was hiding something, but this... this was beyond anything she could've imagined.

She takes a moment to collect her thoughts before responding, her voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"Poseidon... the God of the Seas. You're his daughter?"

(Y/N) frowns, nodding at her, before removing her arm bracelet, showing it more closely to Penelope

"And my Mother...was Medusa, before she was turned into a monster" (Y/N) added with a frown

The arm bracelet have sea snakes designed on them.

As (Y/N) reveals her heritage and shows her arm bracelet, Penelope's mind races trying to process the revelation. She had heard the tales of Medusa, of course, but to meet her child, (Y/N)... it was a different experience altogether.

Her gaze is fixed on the arm bracelet, adorned with sea snakes, a clear symbol of (Y/N) divine lineage. Penelope's expression is a mix of surprise and fascination.

"Poseidon... and Medusa," she whispers, the name carrying a heavy weight.

She looks back at (Y/N), her eyes filled with a mixture of awe and concern.

"This is... quite the revelation, my dear. The offspring of a god and a cursed mortal..."

She can't hide the hint of disbelief in her voice, but she tries to remain open-minded, considering the weight of (Y/N)'s revelation.

"How do you feel about all this, (Y/N)? About your parentage, and everything that it entails?"

"Huh? Are you...not disgruntled by me? Curse me out because I might bring misfortune to your family?" (Y/N) asked in shock.

Penelope's expression softens at (Y/N)'s question, her heart touched by the young woman's worries. "My dear, I could never curse you out because of your parentage. You cannot choose the blood in your veins. Just as Telemachus cannot. We are all shaped by circumstances beyond our control."

She takes a step closer, gently placing her hand on (Y/N)'s cheek. "No, I'm not disgruntled, my dear. I'm merely... shocked and trying to understand. But more than anything, I'm curious."

"If I may ask... what is it like? Growing up as the child of a god? To have Poseidon as your father, and Medusa as your mother?"

She gazes at (Y/N) intently, her curiosity getting the better of her, but not enough to override her compassion.

"Confusing" (Y/N) answers with a frown.

"Poseidon would rather focus on punishing those disrespecting him, and Medusa is still recovering from..." (Y/N) frowns, hugging herself.

Penelope nods, listening intently to (Y/N)'s response. It seemed that even the gods were not immune to family troubles. She could tell that (Y/N) was struggling to come to terms with her unique situation.

"I see," she says gently, her voice laced with empathy. "That must be very difficult, to have a father who is both powerful and absent, and a mother who is recovering from such a traumatic and tragic past."

"It's why I was mostly left to Hera, she took me in as her student, I learned a lot from her, until I decided I wanted to live on my own in the forest" (Y/N) tells her, reminiscing her peaceful stay.

*Penelope raises an eyebrow at the mention of Hera. She knew the queen of the gods was known for her jealousy and wrath, but she also knew of Hera's softer side, one that not many were privileged to see.*

"Hera, you say? It's quite unexpected to hear that Queen of the Gods took an interest in your upbringing. That's a mighty high figure indeed." She frowns slightly, a bit puzzled.

"But... why did you choose to live in solitude in the forest? If Hera was taking care of you, why not stay with her?"

"Hera still has her plights, I don't wish to intrude on it, she already has her plate full enough with Zeus" (Y/N) explains

Penelope nods, understanding (Y/N) reasoning. The tumultuous relationship between Hera and Zeus was a tale known to all. She could see how (Y/N) didn't want to add to Hera's troubles.

"I see. So, you chose solitude in the forest to give Hera peace and not burden her further." She purses her lips, considering her next words carefully. "But... that's a lonely life for such a young woman, my dear."

"It may not seem ideal but, It's what I preferred, well...before I met your Son" (Y/N) answers, blushing a bit.

Penelope smiles at (Y/N), a gentle, motherly smile. She could see how much (Y/N) cared for Telemachus in her blush. It was sweet, and it endeared her to her even more. But she was not so simple that she would forget the revelation of (Y/N)'s heritage so easily.

"And Telemachus..." she muses, her voice softer now. "what is he to you, my dear?"

(Y/N) blushes even more, pursing her lips "...He's my everything"

Penelope smiles, her heart warmed by (Y/N) declaration. The love and devotion in her voice were undeniable. She places a hand on (Y/N) shoulder, her touch gentle yet firm "That's a strong statement, my dear. And a weighty one."

She pauses, her gaze serious yet caring. "Do you understand what it means, to be someone's 'everything'?"

Penelope studies (Y/N) reaction closely, her eyes searching for any hint of doubt or uncertainty.

"To be everything to Telemachus, means you will be responsible for his happiness, his support, his love, his companion... His trust. Are you truly prepared to take on such a burden, my dear?"

"Yes, More than anything" (Y/N) answers, nodding.

Penelope smiles warmly at (Y/N) fervent response. It was clear that she was sincere, and her determination was admirable. But still... Penelope had to be sure.

"You understand that Telemachus has his own troubles, his own responsibilities. He has the weight of ruling Ithaca on his shoulders. Can you handle the stress and strain that comes with being the wife of a king?"

"I may not know it, but I'll endure, I wish to learn everything, change myself until one day, I know I'm in the position to stand next to him" (Y/N) answers with conviction.

Penelope's heart swells with pride and admiration for (Y/N). Her determination and love for Telemachus was a sight to behold. And her willingness to learn and grow, it showed maturity far beyond her years.

She takes (Y/N) hands in hers, her touch gentle yet firm. "My dear, you show a wisdom and courage not often seen. I admire your devotion, but also your humility. It'll serve you well in life, and in your relationship with Telemachus."

(Y/N) looks at her in shock, before smiling brightly at her "Thank you, Mother"

Penelope returns the smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. Motherly instincts taking over, she reaches forward and gently pulls (Y/N) into a hug, just like she would with Telemachus.

"You're welcome, my dear. I can see now that your devotion to Telemachus is genuine, and your character is steadfast. He's a lucky man..."

"No, I'm lucky because of him" (Y/N) reiterated, leaning back to face Penelope.

"You raised him quite well, Mother, I wish I could also learn that from you"

Penelope chuckles, her motherly pride evident. She was always happy to see her son be acknowledged for his virtues.

"You're too kind, my dear. I did what I could, but Telemachus is his own person. He made his own choices, including spending time with you."

"And as for learning from me, well, I'll be more than happy to help you. After all, a good wife should know a few things."

"Thank you" (Y/N) whispers, hugging her once more.

Penelope hugs her warmly in return, her arms wrapping around (Y/N) in a motherly embrace. For a brief moment, she sees not a young woman from a unique heritage, but as a daughter in need of guidance and support.

She lets the hug last a few moments more, knowing that (Y/N) probably hadn't had this kind of comfort in a long time.

"(Y/N), I have one request, also tell this to Telemachus, wake up early in the morning and come to me, I'll help you dress up, we'll meet up at the Main Hall, I have an announcement to make" Penelope requested

"Yes, I understand" (Y/N) answers, nodding.

Next Morning

Penelope greets them both in the Main Hall, looking as regal and poised as ever. (Y/N) and Telemachus enter together, Telemachus still looking groggy from the early wake-up. But they both clean up quite well and look presentable for the occasion, if a bit tired.

The Suitors quickly take notice of the Maiden next to Telemachus, but she doesn't even pay them a glance.

"Good Morning, Mother" (Y/N) smiles at her.

"Good morning, my dear" she responds to her with a voice soft yet firm.

"I imagine you are both wondering what's the purpose of this early gathering. I shall not waste your time then, and get straight to the point."

The suitors file in, their eyes hopeful and expectant as they take their places. They can feel the air of anticipation, believing that Penelope is finally going to declare which one of them she will marry.

"Suitors," she begins, her gaze sweeping the room to encompass all the men present, "I have called you here today to make an announcement, but not the sort you may expect."

"Today, I have come to a decision," she continues, her voice gaining a slight hint of determination, "For Telemachus's future..." Penelope turns her gaze to Telemachus, who straightens up as he realizes the spotlight is now on him.

Penelope turns back to face the suitors, her voice still steady and authoritative. "Indeed, I have come to a decision with regards to Telemachus, and who he will marry."

The room is even more quiet now. The suitors stare at Penelope, bewildered and eager to know who Telemachus was going to marry. Telemachus himself glances at Egeria, as if looking for reassurance.

Penelope takes a small breath, and straightens up. "I have determined, that Telemachus will marry-" She pauses for a moment, letting the suspense build for a few seconds. Then she continues softly "-is (Y/N)."

"Did you know this?" Telemachus asked in shock, looking at his bride to be

"No...no I didn't but..." (Y/N) smiled bashfully, fixing her hair as she looked at him. "It's a pleasant surprise" she smiled softly at him, as he smiled back at her.

The suitors grumble amongst themselves, their faces a mix of irritation and disappointment. Some of them had been holding out hope even after all this time, and were clearly not happy with the decision. But they all grudgingly accept that there's nothing they can do. They bow their heads in acceptance, though a few send resentful glances toward Telemachus and (Y/N).

But they did notice...(Y/N) is a very beautiful girl.

As the suitors look at Egeria, it's clear that their annoyance softens somewhat as they take in her beauty.

One of the suitors, a stocky man named Antonius, looks (Y/N) up and down, an appreciative look in his eyes. scheming.

Antonius steps forward, addressing Penelope. "Your Majesty," he says, his voice smooth and charming. "If I may say so, Telemachus has chosen well. This (Y/N) is lovely and graceful."

Penelope smiles politely, but her eyes are sharp and observant. She doesn't miss the way Antonius is eyeing (Y/N) with interest. But she simply responds, her voice neutral. "Yes, (Y/N) is indeed a beauty. Telemachus is fortunate to have her."

Antonius bows his head, then turns his attention back to (Y/N). He steps closer, his eyes raking appreciatively over her form. Telemachus, seeing this, bristles slightly, a possessive glint in his eyes.

Antonius grins at (Y/N), clearly enjoying the fact that he's riling Telemachus up. He makes a show of admiring her, walking around them, making sure to ogle at her most intimate parts, his eyes practically undressing her.

(Y/N) only looks at him uncomfortably, hiding behind Telemachus with a tight frown.

Antonius continues to ogle (Y/N) without any shame. Telemachus clenches his jaw, his jealousy and protectiveness growing stronger by the second. He takes a step forward to defend (Y/N), but Penelope swiftly holds up a hand to stop him.

"Antonius," Penelope says, her voice mild yet commanding. "Do not forget that Telemachus and (Y/N) are betrothed. It's highly inappropriate for you to be admiring her in such a…bold manner."

Antonius shrugs, unbothered by Penelope's reprimand. He gives (Y/N) one last lingering look before moving away, a sly grin playing on his lips. Telemachus glares at him, his fists clenched, but Penelope's hand on his arm holds him back.

Penelope turns to Telemachus, her voice low and gentle. "Let it be, my son," she murmurs. "Antonius only wants to provoke a reaction from you. Don't give him the satisfaction."*

Telemachus huffs, glaring at Antinous's retreating back. But he knows his mother is right, so he takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. He glances over at (Y/N), who is looking a bit rattled by Antonius's attention.

(Y/N) simply holds his arm, shaking a bit.

Seeing (Y/N)'s unease, Telemachus immediately wraps a protective arm around her. He pulls her closer to his side, as if shielding her from Antonius's leering gaze.

(A/N: I love do me some lore bombs)