#ask-the-golden-goo

[pokege-ne-project]

>> Mood of the hour was sprites for some reason. I attempted to start with Earthbound-inspired sprites, but eventually reverted to original sprite work sjdigonsjk anyway

This Chill Goomy for @ask-the-golden-goo, suggested by @aro-pokeverse!

Diable for @divine--theatre, suggested by @ask-team-misfit!

Shauna for @ask-a-silvy, suggested by @book-of-legends!

Thank you all, hope y'all have a good weekend!

[crewel-intentions]

* @ask-the-golden-goo Slime Boi slid up to Crewel, enamoured by the tattoos shown.*

Slime Boi: Yo yo yo! How's it hanging? How's the vibe? I gotta say, those tattoos are a work of art! Like damn, they've got such a rad vibe to them that I just love! What's the dealio with them? I mean, I've always had the idea that a tattoo would be sick to have. What would you recommend for someone like me?

( @ask-the-golden-goo )

[ask-a-silvy]

[ previous ; @ask-the-golden-goo , @ask-valiant-victory ]

Shauna immediately grew concerned as she saw him begin to panic. She knelt before him with a clear look of worry, not understanding what was the matter.

Shauna: "Valiant...?"

She slowly raised a paw. Maybe she wanted to try and soothe him in some way, or write a message.

But it didn't matter. Whatever she was looking to do would be rendered moot as she felt it, and froze up with a shudder.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna, shown from the chest up in a frontal view. Her eyes are really wide in shock, and her ears are drooped down, almost flat against the sides of her head. Shauna's appearance is as described here. End ID ]

That "off" feeling from before was now much, much stronger. It overwhelmed her senses. She felt her throat go dry and squeeze shut.

She couldn't breathe right. She couldn't talk right. She couldn't think right.

From the perspective of the party-goers, she appeared to have dissociated, breaking down emotionally, seemingly out of nowhere.

Yet in her perspective...

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna considerably zoomed out to show her all alone in a large, endless space. Her outlines are rough, suggesting that this isn't real. End ID ]

Her world fell away.

She no longer saw faces. She no longer saw humans, or Pokemon.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna from behind, looking up at the many, many eyes gazing at her harshly. Her outlines are rough, suggesting that this isn't real. End ID ]

All that could be seen was her being watched by a faceless crowd. Being judged.

She felt small. Insignificant.

Vulnerable.

She didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be here.

This was how Valiant truly felt all along, wasn't it?

[ask-dawnanddusk]

* @ask-the-golden-goo Slime Boi slides up the Maksviah, giving off those chill vibes.*

Slime Boi: Yo yo, how's the vibe for this evening? Mine's pretty excellent so far. Solid A+ for me. You know, I've got children of my own. All grown up now but they were a riot to raise. The stuff we'd do together. So much fun. An absolute blast, you dig? How was raising children for you? Was it a cake walk or were there some bumps in the road?

"Ah, greetings! it is wonderful to hear that your time on this isle is calm and good. The 'vibe' as you call it for myself has also been quite pleasant."

"Certainly is is lovely to spend time with family, I am pleased to hear that you and yours are close with one another. As for myself, raising mine own little ones has always been a joy, as I adore them all very much. Raising children, I would never describe as easy, however it is a fulfilling experience indeed. Each have their own thoughts and beliefs, and in overcoming their flaws they have grown grand and great. I could not be prouder of them."

Turning her head slightly, she looked towards where Voxgatum and Vourison sat by the beach. Vox was currently trying to coax Vourison into the water, much to the rayquaza's chagrin. "As can clearly be seen, I am also here with a few of mine own little one's. Though nearly all are grown fully, they will always be little to me."

She then tilted her head to glance at Loraifon, who was currently stamping around the area excitedly, exploring all it had to offer, "Mine littlest especially is most excited to be visiting here again."

She paused for a second before continuing, her voice slightly sheepish. "Ah, forgive me, I have spoken for quite a bit of time. I would also be most interested in hearing of your own children, if you would like to share that is."

[ask-the-fogbound-serpent]

* @ask-the-golden-goo slides up to Vourison, chill vibes ever present.*

Slime Boi: Yo yo yo, how's it hanging? How are the vibes on this most excellent evening? Now, I've noticed you've got that dialga and palkia hybrid kid. I never thought I'd ever see someone like that before. Crazy. I dig it. Reminds me of my own kids. Then again, I've never seen a rayquaza like you before. Those patterns are most bodacious. Damn, absolutely fantastic. Your vibe is just immaculate. Like, were you born like that or did you go through some magical girl transformation or something?

Vourison was VERY awkward in the face of the goomy's (?) compliments, unused to the praise from anyone outside his family. "Thank you for the kind words. I was born like this, not transformed. I, and my siblings, get it from my mother, who you've already met." He pointed his snout at where Maksviah stood, still pinned by Voxgatum and unable to move much.

Speaking of the Lugia, Vox leaned forward and gave Slime Boi a big, tusked grin, "Oh my fancily-shaded friend, Vourison's power of understatement is really something to behold. But worry not! I'm here to tell you what really happened." He declared, much to Vourison's chagrin.

“Imagine, it’s the early days of a realms existence, and you’re a horrible stone. A cursed and beautiful one in fact! And so you do what cursed stones do and curse people until, eventually, they get sick of you, and ask one of the only formed gods for help."

"Except this god is also a little strange, so instead disposing of the rock in any normal way, she eats it. And while it’s a really good way to destroy the stone and everything it stands for, the curse was so powerful and so many lives were effected, that the energy wasn't completely destroyed, but transformed into something else. And so, from that energy, you get a new baby god!”

"It makes more sense with the knowledge that mother is a god of fire and forge." Vourison added. "Since she doesn't need to eat she will, on occasion, eat different ores to smelt in her stomach for later use. Surprisingly, I was not the only one born in this manner."

Vox continued speaking after his elder brother, waving a wing while still sitting atop the massive serpent, "Anyway, that's why we all look so different from what's considered 'standard' for our species. This also effected our typing too! Ya boy's Psychic/Water, no flying in sight, while Vourison's Fairy/Ghost. I mean, the typings don't matter that much, but it's still a fun quirk of our realm!"

[asktheisle]

* @ask-the-golden-goo Slime Boi saunters up to Oscar, chill smile ever present on his face.*

Slime Boi: Hey hey, how's this night treating you so far? Can I just say that I am loving these chill vibes? They are most excellent. Just truly something magical, you catch my drift? It's actually been a hot minute since I've spoken with a darkrai. Those folks tend to deal with nightmares and all and I just happen to miss talking to them. Ah, wrong place, wrong time, you know? Anyways, I was gonna ask about the history of this gathering and you seem like someone who'd have some ideas on that. Of course, if you don't know much, point me in the direction of knowledge but it feels like you do. Could be wrong though. I have been known to be wrong on occasion.

We're a rather rare kind compared to others, but that isn't the case here at least! This island became a refuge to us centuries ago, and has stood as such since the island resurfaced. Not just to our kind however, other legends and mythicals seek this island due to how well hidden it is from the general population. No one comes through unless they were allowed, essentially.

[The Darkrai grinned as his tattered tail swished idly.]

I remember a few festivities, when I was very young. That was a few centuries ago.

At a point in time before the island sank so long ago, there were many more families and island dwellers present. Tano sported a decently sized population of humans, similar to nearby Alola.

The Magi in those times would start here in Raiex, then make their way clockwise through the island across the pueblos in their path before ending here again. Things were similar-food and drink, celebratory atmosphere.

However each family had something specific they did to welcome the three spirits when they passed their territories.

Here in Raiex-as the humans were the brave and noble of the main families. They hosted battles and tournaments here to show their skill in the field. The humans would have several pokemon on their side, full team battles as the people themselves would spar against each other. A bit dangerous looking back, since they had to dodge the moves of their teammates, but it was very exciting to watch.

In Montex-directly south of us-they did similar. Except their contests consisted of flying through their craggy mountains and footraces in their plains. For the flying contests, they also had competitions for maneuvers and tricks.

In the southwest of Yuentex, they were the true origin of celebrations. They would sing and dance, tell stories, create masks, you name it! Out of anyone, they were probably the most fun to be around.

And finally in Veaxquex, the humans specialized in food. They would prepare a grand feast for the arrival of the Magi before they rounded around to continue on their journey.

It wasn't uncommon for those in other families to travel alongside the Magi to participate in all the festivities, I remember being able to do so once when I was very very young.

[The Darkrai had a bit of a wistful look on his face, chuckling.]

What a wonder it would be to return to that. But what we have now is just as fine! All that's really missing are the competitions, but otherwise it's a nice synthesis of all the families.

I'm sure these humans will come up with their own traditions, the more time passes.

(( @ask-the-golden-goo ))

[ask-a-silvy]

She blinked with disbelief. She certainly didn't expect that.

This was usually the point Pokemon became mad, or called her a nuisance, or told her to leave.

How come this Goomy was so chill? Was there something... more?

It would be another moment before she decided not to think about it too much.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna smiling with her eyes closed but with a strained expression, and holding the note in question. She's shown from the shins up and directly facing the viewer. Shauna's appearance is as described here. End ID ]

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna similar to the previous image. She's smiling with a ":3" face but with a great deal of unease, and holding the note in question. End ID ]

Shauna: [But what happened was, I invited him along. He said he doesn't get out very much, and I wanted to help.]

Shauna: [That, and having someone with you is always way more fun than being by yourself! So here we are.]

(Response to this: https://www.tumblr.com/ask-a-silvy/771894648963809280/ask-aeos-company-indigo-approaches-shauna-as )

Slime Boi: Girl, I didn't ask if the two of you were a couple. Not my vibe to assume. I asked how you ended up with him at this event. A Pokémon like you and a Pokémon like him are an unusual combo. Maybe you should take some deep breaths. Feel the chill vibes again. Decompress. You need help with that?

@ask-a-silvy

[askthehoenngods]

[ Reply to this and this ]

"Reminds me that I really ought to talk to them about that... anyway."

"I'm fine. I'll get my own food and whatnot. But you don't have me fooled~"

Cameo of Susano from @/askstormscall

- It seems as though this interaction has cheered Kyurem up some. -

[briggsmar-bantering]

* @ask-the-golden-goo Slime Boi slides up to Husk, curious.*

Slime Boi: Yoooo! I dig your vibe! It's absolutely rad! The whole hybrid thing? Whoa! Like, how did that happen? I didn't think legends could be hybrids, considering their nature and all. Like, I've met a lot of darkrais. All have vastly different vibes but you're definitely the most unique out of all of them! Most radical!

Despite the mask on his face obscuring his true emotions, the corvid-rai still expressed his admiration towards the little goomy's compliment. "Why thank you kindly. I don't get that very often, you're pretty cool yourself." However, as the conversation moved forward something seemed to disturb him greatly. Like he switched into a sort of 'deer in the headlights' mode.

"Ah... See about that. It's a long story, in fact it would take so long to tell you that you'd miss the whole party and that wouldn't be fun. I'm sure if my friend ever comes around one of these days he'll tell you all about it in a more susinct way than I'm capable of. [And without breaking down like a broken record...]

[aninipanin1]

WHO'S THE PRETTY GIRL?

The Blue Lock players were expecting a lot from the Neo-Egoist League, but what they did not expect was the fact that their manager would attract the eyes of their masters enough for them to ask them about her.

Notes: Reader is implied a female and is in her mid-20s (25 to 27, but whatever age works for you guys). The Blue Lock boys loves Reader platonically, almost like their older sister. The love interests are of course the Masters (except Loki)

LAVINHO

"Coach-! Ehh..?"

Bachira stopped in his tracks as he entered the door to the field. Unfortunately for him, Otoya and Kitsunezato followed suit and bumped into the boy.

"Ow man, what's wrong with you?"

Otoya, who got the brunt of it due to hitting his nose on Bachira's head, complained. Meanwhile, Kitsunezato just tilted his head as to why Bachira just stayed in his place.

"Bachira-san? What's wrong?"

Bachira then slowly tilted his head. His golden eyes looked at the scene in front of him where you, their manager, talked quite amicably with the Spanish Coach.

This was not much of a surprise to any of them, for you always tried your best to get involved in the boys' training to make sure they were improving while also having ample time to rest. You always reasoned how they were still in their teens and needed proper guidance with a proper and mature adult (since Ego can't really be trusted on that part), so you talking to the masters were no surprise.

What got Bachira, and in turn Otoya and Kitsunezato, raising eyebrows was the fact that for the first time in, like, forever since they met him, Lavinho was quiet. His mouth was zipped, zilched, as he just looked and listened to whatever you were saying.

Lavinho was a man very passionate in his craft, and there are many times where he would say his own input when it comes to the sport, with cheerful countenance too. But, at that moment, he was as quiet as a stone.

"The hell is up with him?"

Bachira asked quite curiously. Kitsunezato just shrugged while Otoya formed a small smirk, seeing how not only was Lavinho quiet in front of you, but the man was also a little too close to you. Adding to that, Lavinho's eyes were literally ogling you, which the white haired striker did not like.

Otoya was all too familiar when it came to flirting and the look of attraction, and man, was his coach making it quite obvious he found you, their manager, attractive.

"Oh lord, not this again."

Bachira turned to Otoya, completely oblivious.

"What?"

"Can't you guys see? Coach is making goo-goo eyes on our manager. He's too obvious, geez."

Kitsunezato only let out an "oh" of understanding. Meanwhile, it took Bachira a while to get what Otoya was saying, and by the time he realized, you were already gone from the field.

"WAIT- YOU MEAN-! NOOOOOO!!"

The two other players jumped at Bachira's sudden outburst, as the boy sprinted to where Lavinho was still stuck on his position, standing up, hands on the Football basket as if it was his only support.

"What? Yo, Bachira-"

"NO! YOU CAN'T BE WITH HER, COACH! I WON'T ALLOW IT! YOU'RE NOT GONNA MAKE Y/N-SAN HAPPY! LEAVE HER ALONE!"

Lavinho was taken aback at the sudden frowning face of Bachira. He got what the boy was talking about as he pulled up a mischievous smirk.

"Hey, you don't know that, blondie. I can treat her well ya know?"

But Bachira was not having it. He loved you like a sister, and there was no way he would allow you to date someone who can not make you happy.

Otoya sighed and held the scruff of Bachira's sweater as the boy tried to struggle like a feral cat. Kitsunezato then spoke out.

"Didn't you just meet her, coach?"

"Yeah, but can't I appreciate a beauty? Especially one with brains like hers. Beautiful women are attractive, yes, but when they're smart and have their own original opinions, they become hotter in my eyes."

Otoya chuckled at that, Bachira became even more feral, like a child in Otoya's hold while Kitsunezato sighed at this.

"Sheesh, what did she even say to you?"

"I asked her about many things and suggestions in your guys' training, and well, her answers are very fun and interesting, to say the least. Do one of you have her number? I didn't get it from her earlier."

Bachira just shook his head violently, for he had your number and refused to give up your info to his coach.

CHRIS PRINCE

"Yo, Reo. Have you seen Prince?"

Reo turned to Chigiri, who had just entered the training field. It was yet another day of training in the English Stratum. Most of the players are scattered in the facility to do their own training from the regime given to them, leaving Reo, Nagi, and now, Chigiri alone in the field.

Nagi laid out on the grass of the field as him and Reo rested for a bit. The purple-haired player tried to recall where he had seen the English Master.

"Hmm, I remember him saying that he had a meeting with Ego along with the rest of the masters. Maybe he hasn't come back from it yet?"

"Really? Hmm, I guess I'll just wait for him here."

"Go on."

The three remained in the field, Nagi slowly snoring away in the grass as Reo and Chigiri watched a recording of their previous plays on a tablet. It was all quiet until the door to the training field opened, revealing Chris Prince, who probably just came from his meeting.

"Oh, good thing you guys are here! I actually wanted to ask you guys something!"

The blonde man grinned as he put his arm around Chigiri and Reo, one for each player as the two raised an eyebrow at him. They knew he was eccentric and a bit...touchy, but he never did this before. Reo then decided to speak.

Chris pulled out his phone, whistling innocently.

"What is it?"

"Do one of you know or have your manager's number?"

"Yes, we three have it. Why?" Chigiri responded, and that made the grin on the professional player's face widen.

"Great! Can you put it in my phone?"

Now that made the two blink as Chris threw his phone in Reo's hands where the phone app was already open. Reo grew a bit more suspicious of this.

"And why do you need Y/n-san's phone number? You two just met in the meeting, I'm sure of it."

The man shrugged, but it was obvious to the two that he was hiding something.

'Weird, I feel like I'm having deja vu...oh wait-'

Chigiri suddenly remembered one certain group of professionals asking him the same thing back in the second selection. The redhead's once curious expression turned into a bored and rather done expression. He then raised his arm and pulled a way from his master's hold.

"Nope, I already know what you want Y/n-san's number for."

"Oh, come on, Hyoma. Don't be like that! I'm not that bad-"

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, don't you have fangirls? I don't want Y/n-san to be with someone who'll be a hassle to be with."

Reo added, finally getting the implications. He wondered what the coach heard or saw from you for him to immediately ask them for your number. Reo always knew you were beautiful, kind, and responsible. That's why most, if not all, the players in the facility trusted and are quite attached to you, viewing you as some sort of maternal and comforting figure that Blue Lock can not provide alone.

But, he was interested in how you managed to reel in the attention of the second best striker in the world. And, so he did ask, and boy, did he, along with Chigiri who listened regretted. Chris just started to tell them about how not only were you a sight for sore eyes, but absolutely smart and egoistic in your own right even as a manager. About how, even if you had that side to you, when you were not talking about football, you were very kind, caring and very open.

Chigiri responded, his words made a hollow, almost bitter chuckle from the professional player's mouth.

"Yeah, Y/n-san is amazing, but you rave about her like it's your first time meeting a genuinely good person."

"When you are in the spotlight, most people you meet tend to have ulterior motives, and even, different personalities. It's attractive to see a woman both passionate about her craft yet still serious about her morals."

Reo sighed, agreeing to what his master said. But, he was a bit miffed that there was another guy they had to watch out for. He could not help but let out a sigh.

'Y/n-san, you attract the most troublesome guys around here.'

MARC SNUFFY

"Is it just me, or does he look quite distracted with Y/n-san?"

Niko innocently commented as he, Aryu, Barou, and Oliver, watched their master and manager talk from afar while doing their stretching. It has been a few days since the Neo-Egoist League commenced, and everyone in the facility became busier than ever.

You, being the manager, of course, were one of the busiest as you tried your best to take care of all the 5 stratums with only a little help from other staff members due to their own jobs. It was hard, but you always managed for the boys. So that is why you find yourself currently talking to the foreign coach, asking about the improvements of the Blue Lockers who are under his wing currently.

"Hah? So what? She's talking to him, so of course he'll listen."

Barou said in his usual rough tone, with a hint of confusion as to why Niko had to point that out. Oliver on the other hand, just smirked.

"Ah-ah, you don't understand, though, Your majesty. The look in our dear master striker's eyes is something you can only see in the eyes of someone feeling something to someone whom they are talking to."

"That was just confusing." Niko quipped.

"What are you even proposing?" Barou raised an eyebrow.

"What if, Snuffy-san, over there...likes her?" Oliver smirked. His claim immediately made Barou roll his eyes before walking away, not believing it. Niko and Aryu only tilted their heads in confusion, not seeing their master as someone who would fall in love or even have a trivial crush on someone he just met a few weeks ago.

"You probably hit your damn head, dumbass."

"I don't think he's like you, Aiku." Niko commented, making the defender mutter an "Oi," before moving on with the topic.

"It's just, I've been hearing gossips from the other stratums that the master's have been...a little too close to our manager these past few weeks. Who knows?"

"And praytell, where the hell did you hear this from?" Barou asked.

"From Otoya and Chigiri-"

"Not surprised. You three are quite the gossipers." Niko added.

"Very glam yet not at the same time."

"Well duh, of course. Have you not seen their coaches? Childish as hell. Ours ain't all like them." Barou rolled his eyes.

"You have a point. But hey, I said it here. If you all are wrong, you owe me."

They turned back to you and Snuffy and saw that you were already bidding your goodbye to the master coach, your phone between your ear, probably another one of your managerial and staffly responsibilities, they didn't know, but it was quite common to see you run about the halls of the facility.

Snuffy soon joined them, waiting for the rest of the players on the field since it was still quite early and training was to start in a few more minutes. The other four Blue Lockers only being there due to a plan they formulated and wanted to reenact before practice.

They see the coach looking quite happily down at his phone, seemingly satisfied with what he was seeing as he typed away on it. With the four players feeling quite curious as to why he had such...an abnormally happy grin, they approached Snuffy to ask, and suffice it to say, they were a little bit surprised with what he said next.

"It's nothing, I'm just happy Miss Y/n finally gave me her number, although it is under the guise of talking about you, Blue Lockers, and your training. It's still worth it."

"Y/n-san's number?" Niko asked to which the coach nodded.

"Yes, I wanted to get to know her more, is all. I wanted to ask some of you about her, but I reckoned it's better to get to know her myself and at the same time, get closer to her. It's like killing two birds with one stone."

"That is glamourously...logical." Aryu commented.

"What do you mean by get to know her more?" Niko asked.

"Hm? I meant in a more personal level. Oh, by the way, I heard most of you are quite close to her, especially you, Niko, since she always talks about you. Can you tell me what the things she likes are? I would prefer to know it now, just to be advanced."

The boys were taken aback by the question, their thoughts running wildly, but all of them were all thinking the same thing.

'I didn't know he could be that smooth when it comes to women...' The Blue Lockers sweatdropped in their minds.

NOEL NOA

"So, was no one planning to tell me that our master is dating Y/n-san?"

Yukimiya entered the canteen where the rest of the Blue Lockers under Bastard Munchen were having their dinner. As usual, it was quite loud with Raichi yelling nonsense at Gagamaru, while Isagi tried to pull him away. Kurona, Hiori, and Kiyora were the only ones quiet in their own seats, eating their food away.

Isagi raised an eyebrow, his hold on Raichi loosening as his eyes were focused on Yukimiya, or rather, the brunette's words.

"Huh? Y/n-san and Noel Noa dating? Where did you hear that from? I didn't know."

It was not just Isagi who got their attentione peaked. The rest of Blue Lock players also were quite curious as to how and why Yukimiya thought that the striker was dating you, their manager.

"I saw him asking her about a restaurant in Tokyo. It kinda sounds like they, or mostly Noa-san were planning a date."

"Huh? Now that I think about it, Noa-san has been quite close with Y/n-san lately." Hiori said, thinking back to the past weeks ever since the Neo-Egoist League started.

"Whatever it is, I think we shouldn't really get involved. Their personal and dating life is none of pur business anyways." Isagi sighed as he started to eat his own food. After all, most of them had a lot on their plates already too.

With training, the League, Blue Lock as a whole, and the upcoming U-20 World Cup, it was a little hard to find gaps or time to care about trivial things not concerning them.

But, that mindset immediately vanished after a few days later, when they saw Noel Noa, the best striker in the world, known for his stoicism and cold logic on and off the field. A man who can keep his cool and straightforward attitude any second of the day, seemingly panicking inwardly as his eyes scanned his phone.

Turns out, he did not get to save your number, the one you kindly punched in for him the past week (he pretended to get it for the sake of the Neo-Egoist League and the Blue Lock players of course), and well, since you were kind of an elusive figure most times of the day, having so many responsibilities, he did not know where else to communicate with you.

Sure, he can use the management system given to the masters to call for your assistance, but those are used in emergencies, and he did not want to disturb or scare you, thinking that something wrong happened when he just wanted to speak with you, in a more casual terms.

Nope, he was not illogical and irresponsible like that. So, instead, he finally let his pride down a bit and went to his players to ask something that shocked most of them.

"Can I get your manager's number?"

Nothing was heard except Raichi spitting out water from his water bottle on the grass the training field provided. Isagi, who was the one Noa asked, just blinked at his master's question or, rather, request due to the tone of his voice.

"Um, sure. I can put it in for you, Noa-san."

The albino man only nodded his head and gave the boy his phone. Isagi, meanwhile, was taken quite a back, his expression one of disbelief and resignation.

'Well, Its not like this is the first time someone asked us for Y/n-san's number anyways.'

Compared to Isagi, the rest of the Bastard Munchen players were less calm about it. Raichi's mouth, along with Kurona's were still wide. Yukimiya was blinking, eyes wide in disbelief as if he was hallucinating, and Hiori who had literal spirals for his eyes, the situation making him feel quite dizzy.

"I never knew, he can be like...this."

"Me neither." Hiori responded to the shocked claim Yukimiya said, not used to the master of the German team acting like this.

"Well, I mean, are we even surprised? This feels like the World 5 incident all over again." Kiyora, who just arrived, sat with them, remembering the ending of the 2nd selection where they met and faced international players, and needless to say, most of them were not even hiding the fact they found you attractive and wanted your details.

"Right, right, I forgot about that." Kurona muttered. But, Yukimiya just ended things with a shrug, watching Isagi give the coach his phone before running off to join the rest of them.

"Well, it is a shock. But, its not like we can do anything about it. Y/n-san is just like that, she attracts the most...um, diverse people to her. Probably, the reason why she also has a lot of fans worldwide."

The rest nodded, returning to their training, knowing deep down that, no matter how much they wanted to fight off the men who were interested in you, it cannot be helped when their manager was just someone like you, and they would never ever change you for the world.

After all, you are the elder sister figure they did not know they needed in this asylum-like facility and no professional football player who is attracted to you, can change that.

BONUS!

"Hmm, I think with the power of Y/n-chan alone, we can convince the rest of the World 5 players before to come again-" Anri tried to recommend only to be given a heavy glare by Ego, who found the idea less than appealing.

"No, these four are enough of a headache to be around her. I don't need Blue Lock TV turning into a dating show."

"..."

"I know you're jealous, but-"

"Just do your work, Anri-chan. That way, we can get this thing over with."

With that, the woman shrugged and left the room, heading off to find you to hopefully ask for your help in other work around the facility.

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Y/n: Hello, I am the manager of Blue Lock-

The Masters and the World 5: Already off to buy the ring, prepare our future house, adopting 6 cats and planning our retirement days and building our coffins together. Anything else we're forgetting?

Blue Lockers: Yes. The fact that you literally just met her?

The Masters and the World 5: ...

The Masters and the World 5: I fail to see the problem with that-

This is based off of that small headcannon I posted a few months ago (i think?) And well, this took me a while to post but I finally finished it lol. By the way, this Y/n is different from the other manager Y/n from my previous post. That Y/n is a minor (15, 16 or 17, depending on you, reader) and her lpve interests are the minor characters. While this Y/n is an adult and here love interests are the adult players and characters. Like I said, when I say Masters and World 5 in this, I only mean the adult ones, not Loki. Loki is the love interest of Minor Manager Y/n sooo yeah! Hope you enjoy!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[reveuse-de-minuit-writer]

Flimsy Excuses (Caleb x MC)

Caleb is home for the summer, and the tension between him and MC is unbearable. When MC catches him having sex with another girl, things spiral out of control.

NSFW (18+). Jealous and possessive Caleb. Mutual Pining. Denial of feelings. Accidental Voyeurism. Rough sex. Loss of virginity. Squirting. Overstimulation. Multiple Orgasms. Mutual Masturbation. Explicit and gratuitous smut.

Full tags on AO3 here: x

There’s a note in the kitchen with an envelope. Gran’s gone away on a girl’s trip for the weekend. She’s left a list of emergency numbers and cash for groceries and gas. I leave both the note and the envelope as they are, so that Caleb will see them when he gets home. As the oldest and the man of the house, he’d always taken it upon himself to take care of me. He’d know what to do with the money and info more than I would. 

The thought of him now makes the sleepy warmth in my body burn hotter. He’d texted me while I was napping that he’d gone out with his friends for an impromptu game of basketball, and that he might go out with them to the bar afterwards. He’d even sent me a photo of him in the gym locker room, eyes bright and smile wide, before he headed out to the court. 

I wonder what my brother would do if he knew how that photo made me feel. How it made me react. The want, the need, was immediate. He sent me photos of him when he was gone all of the time. When I asked him about it in the past, he said that it’s his way of including me, of making it feel like I’m there with him, even when he can’t bring me. His reasoning is so sickeningly sweet that it turns my insides to goo, even though the pictures make my heart race for another reason entirely. 

I’m weak. I open up my phone to look at the photo again, and have to restrain the sigh that beckons to escape my throat. His hair is mussed just so, his thick, muscular arms are on full display in the white tank top he wears, and the silver glint of the necklace I gave him sits just between his full pecs. He’s so solid, so big, so powerful. Just the sight of him makes me want to burrow myself into his arms until I can fuse myself into him, into one being, so that we never have to be apart again. The ache for him is almost unbearable. 

I breathe deep and set my phone down. His location under his contact name shows he’s still out, so I have time to collect myself before he comes back home. I close my eyes and will the frantic beating of my heart to slow. 

The summer air drifts in through the open patio door, and the last glimmers of golden hour stretch out across the room, casting everything in warm sunlight. It was warm, too warm, despite the AC blasting throughout the house. I grab a sparkling water from the fridge and pop it open, chugging down a few swigs of it to relieve some of the heat. The burn in my throat feels good, and I wipe the condensation beading along the sides of the can across the skin of my neck and collarbone. 

Maybe I’ll go for a swim. Maybe that will help cool me down and distract me from my thoughts. Maybe the burn of the exercise will do me some good. With that in mind, I return to my room and change. My hands drift across the various suits in the drawer as I try to think about which one I want to wear. I see something red at the bottom, and my hands twitch, before digging it out. 

I’ve only worn it once.

The scraps of red that made up the bikini were scandalous. The triangle tops were tiny, barely covering even covering my areolae. The bottoms were a high-cut thong that left nothing to the imagination. Tara had drooled when I bought it, insisting that I had to wear it to the pool party. I wanted something that would give me attention, and this was certainly it. I threw on one of Caleb’s old shirts as a coverup overtop and left with Tara.

When we arrived together at the party, the house was packed. The music was loud, and the bass vibrated the walls. Every hallway and room was densely filled with people, to the point where we had to hold hands to not lose each other. We navigated our way to the kitchen first, eyeing the island filled with booze as we tried to figure out what we wanted to drink first. The shots of vodka we split back at my place swam languidly in my system already, warming me from the inside out. We grabbed our cocktails from one of the guys playing bartender, and headed to the backyard. 

The house and pool were large. It was raised on the side of a hill, overlooking the valley below. It was breathtaking. The music was louder out here, as was the laughter and conversation all around us. Tara dragged me over to the grass in front of the DJ that had been turned into a makeshift dance floor, and pulled me into her. We drank our cocktails and danced, uncaring of the strangers eyes feasting on us, and created our own little bubble of fun. 

Two guys appeared next to us and chatted with us while we danced. They offered to grab us more drinks, and Tara and I continued to twist and grind on one another. The heat of the day, the alcohol, and the dancing was enough to make me sweat like crazy, and I eyed the pool with longing. 

“Wanna go for a swim?” I asked her. 

She eyed the pool with me and enthusiastically nodded her head. We walked over to some chairs that were unoccupied on the fringes of the yard and put our stuff down. Right as I was about to strip, Tara’s voice was a cold sobering crash of thunder over me.

“Oh shit, is that Caleb? You didn’t tell me he was going to be here too.” 

I whip my head around and anxiety grips my throat as I scan the sea of partygoers with fresh eyes. It takes me seconds to find him, and my heart drops into my stomach. I don’t know how I didn’t notice him earlier. 

He lounges with his friends in a group around a fire, all passing around a joint. He’s shirtless, and the sculpted form of his muscles are on full display for every girl at the party to see. He’s relaxed, his legs splayed wide, and his broad shoulders spread across the back of his chair. He’s a picture perfect image of at-ease masculinity. The sight of him makes my blood race, and heat throbs through my core in an instant. 

The heat is doused almost immediately as a beautiful girl in a bright blue bikini walks up to him with a beer, and strokes flirtatiously along his shoulder. I expect him to push her away the way that he always does with women when he’s around me, but instead he smiles up at her, and takes the beer. 

Jealousy storms inside of me, a thick, ugly, turbulent thing that decimates every feeling of warmth and contentment in its path. Sickness roils in my stomach, and I want to drown myself in the pool. I know I have no right to react this way. It’s so wrong. But I can’t help it. I want to burn the girl alive with the force of my glare. I want to make him burn too, since he can’t burn with me. 

“Well, looks like he’s preoccupied. No wonder he hasn’t noticed you’re here yet. I think that’s Madison Bailey, she’s in the Deespace Pilot Program too. She’s really good.” Tara continues, oblivious to the storm raging inside of me. 

Madison. Caleb’s never mentioned her before. Despite all of the people he’s told me about in his program, she’s never come up before. He would tell me if he was seeing someone, right? He wouldn’t hide it from me, would he? Doubt festers inside of me like a poison, corroding every organ and cell inside of my body. 

I watch, helpless to look away, as the two of them talk. She leans in close to him where he sits, and places a hand on the back of his chair. He laughs at something that she says, and shifts slightly in his seat. 

I hate him. I hate her. I hate them both. 

“Do you wanna go say hi?” Tara asks. Her face falls a bit as she looks over at me, and I force myself to smile. It feels unnatural, like it pulls at my skin like a mask, but I maintain it as best as I can. 

“Nah, let’s leave him be. Wanna go swim now?” I ask. 

Tara nods, and the suspicion in her eyes clears away. As I pull at the hem of Caleb’s shirt I can’t help but feel ridiculous. My eyes drift towards them again, and the ugly jealousy inside of me compares us. We’re nothing alike. She’s tall and lean, with full breasts, and long blonde hair that shines with health. My own body is curvier, with wider hips and fuller thighs. While it’s given me a great ass, my own tits look like road bumps in comparison to hers. 

Is that what he likes? Does he prefer a woman with larger breasts? Does he prefer someone with a more model-like build to my own curvy one? Does he like the lightness of her hair? Insecurity eats away at me, and even though I’d felt confident in my bikini before, I’m now almost afraid to reveal it. What would I do if he saw me, so exposed, so on display for him, and he didn’t like it? How could I live with myself after that?

But no, I needed to stop. Caleb clearly wasn’t thinking about me right now, so I needed to stop thinking of him. Who cares what he thinks of me in my bikini? I’m just his little sister, right?

I tug his shirt off over my head, and let it fall in a pile on the table. I can feel the eyes of the men around me appraising my body, and it builds up my confidence somewhat. I resolutely refuse to look at Caleb as I saunter over to the other side of the pool, directly across from him, and take a deep breath, before diving in. 

The water crashes over me, soothing the fever from my skin, and washing away my doubts. I revel in the cool weightlessness for a moment before breaking the surface for air. I hear the splash behind me as Tara jumps in, and turn around, waiting for her to join me. I tread water, purposefully turning my back to where Caleb and his friends sit. I can’t obsess over him if I can’t see him. At least, that’s what I tell myself. 

We swim for a while. The two guys from earlier join us with more drinks in the pool, and we chat and lounge around with them. Tara is more interested in entertaining them than I am. Twilight dances over the horizon, and I sip at my drink, letting the buzz flow like liquid ambrosia through my body. I drift alone to the edge of the pool, taking in the view. 

Two arms come around me, caging me in to the side of the pool. My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, I wonder if it’s Caleb. If he’s finally come in after me. But when I turn my head to look at who is behind me, I see the face of the guy from earlier. He tries to flirt with me some more, but I make up an excuse to need to use the restroom, and escape from his arms. 

There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s handsome, tall, friendly, and seems respectful once I set up the boundary. 

But he’s not him. He’s not Caleb. 

I make my way to the other side of the pool and grab ahold of the ladder to pull myself out. 

It’s only when I’m halfway out that I realize where I am. As I lift myself out of the water, Caleb is right there sitting in front of me. 

He’s noticed me now. 

And he looks furious. 

Before I’m on stable ground, he’s out of his chair and stalking towards me. Fear grips ahold of me, and I’m irrationally struck with the need to run. I pivot, uncaring of the fact that I’m dripping wet, and make my way into the house. I dodge through the crowd, hoping that he’ll lose sight of me as I all but run away from him. I turn down various hallways, until the crowd starts to thin. The third hallway I fly down is empty, and that’s when I feel the iron grip tighten around my wrist. 

In moments, I’m spun around and pinned to the wall. Caleb’s body towers over me, with his other hand clenched in a tight fist against the wall near my head. His violet eyes are dark with anger, and his cheeks and ears burn red. His powerful body is tight with tension, and my body burns with desire and fear equally. The heat of him is so sudden and so intense that it makes my heart race. He’s so scary when he wants to be. 

The glare he sears me with sends my pulse skyrocketing, and my core throbs with an everlasting, aching need. His violet eyes run down the length of my body, and I can’t breathe as they skim down my breasts, my stomach, and my thighs. His gaze is like a physical touch, and I yearn to lean into it, to feel it for real. 

I need to diffuse the tension before it boils me alive. “Hi Caleb. I didn’t know you would be here,” I begin breathlessly. 

“I thought you said you were seeing Tara,” he accuses, “Funny. I didn’t know this was her house.” 

He damn well knows it’s not. I hated when he played the overprotective parental card. I didn’t lie to him, I knew I would be seeing Tara, I just omitted that I would be seeing her at a pool party. I knew he would be annoying about it. 

But it’s not like he’s innocent either. 

“And you said you were hanging out with the guys,” I spit back, “so which ‘guys’ are you seeing today, the one in the blue bikini?” 

His eye twitches, and a dark shadow passes over him. Our lies simmer in the tension that thickens the air between us. A smirk tugs at his lips and he leans down until our faces are only inches apart. 

“Watching me closely, were you?” He asks softly. His voice is deceptive, as smooth as honey over the bitterness of his mockery. 

My cheeks burn with embarrassment as he calls me out. His smirk deepens, before he leans in closer, his mouth just barely grazing against the skin of my cheek, before resting just beside my ear. My entire body vibrates with the need to lean into him, to touch, to feel every solid inch of him pressed tight into every dripping inch of me. I bite my lip, and the pain clears my head as I stand my ground. 

“It’s okay, pip-squeak. I was watching you too. I was watching as every man in the party watched you prance around oblivious and drunk and naked.” 

My brows furrow in confusion, even as I shiver at the depth of his voice.“I’m not naked!”

His grip on my wrist tightens to the point of pain, and he leans back until our faces are inches apart. His violet eyes sweep a path from my face down the length of my body, before glaring back at me. “Then tell me, pip-squeak, what the fuck are you wearing?”

I spare a glance down at myself, and see the sodden red scraps of fabric that make up my swimsuit. My nipples are dangerously close to being exposed, and the hard peaks strain at the thin fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. Water drips down between my breasts. The sight is undeniably erotic. When I glance back at him, his eyes are narrowed to furious slits. I’ve never seen him this tense or this angry before.

“A bikini?” I answer him breathlessly. 

His scoff is cold and incredulous. “Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days? Where did you get it from, huh, an adult shop?” 

My cheeks burn with embarrassment, even as my core throbs under his furious scrutiny. 

“I got it online, you dick,” I spit back, “not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh it is absolutely my business,” he says, leaning down until his mouth is right at my ear again. I can feel the heat of his breath, and I shiver as goosebumps prickle my skin. “It is always my business when my little sister is running around looking like she’s ripe to be fucked,” he continues with a sneer. 

The air between us is thin. The heat of him so close to me, but not touching any part of me other than my wrist, is unbearable. The ends of his hair tickle the heat of my cheek, and I want to lean into him like a cat. Even as his overprotectiveness drives me crazy, even as his words light an anger up inside of me, because he has no right to talk to me that way, my body yearns for him. 

“Stop it, Caleb. Now let me go, I wanna go back to the party.” I say, pushing at the firm muscles of his chest. 

But he’s an immovable object in my path, snarling his fury down upon me. His skin is molten, and his chest heaves as he breathes heavily under my touch. 

“Oh no, the only place you’re going is home.” He says with finality, “Where’s your stuff? I’ll get it for you.”

My heart drops. “What the fuck, Caleb? No, I’m not going home yet. You can’t make me.” 

He whirls around and pins me with a glare that could melt steel. “Oh I very much can and will make you. Do not test me right now, pip-squeak. Now answer me. Where. Is. Your. Stuff?” 

Our glare is a stalemate, before I finally sigh. There’s no point in arguing with him when he’s like this. I mumble where I put my stuff next to Tara’s and he turns to leave. 

“Can I at least say goodbye to Tara?” I ask him, my voice small and defeated. 

He turns his head over his shoulder, and with a flick of his wrist, gravity seems to push down harder around me, warping through the air until I’m pinned to the wall again. 

“You’re not going anywhere until I get back. You will not look at or even speak to anyone else but me. If you so much as move even an inch, I’ll make you regret it,” he promises.

As he walks away, he lifts his evol, but his threat restrains me all the same. The buzz from earlier is all but evaporated, and emotions overwhelm me now that he’s gone. The heat and the shame and the anger are all a frenzy inside of me. He didn’t deny that he was talking to the girl earlier. Did that mean that she was someone special to him? The thought stabs shards of ice into my heart, and tears sting my eyes. I sniffle and try to hold them back. He’ll be so annoying about it if he sees me cry. 

It seems like not even a full minute has gone by before he’s back in front of me. His violet eyes sweep down the length of my body again as he stalks towards me, and my core throbs pitifully, despite the betrayal in my heart. He holds the shirt out for me, but I glare up at him in stubborn refusal. 

“Oh, you wanna play dress up? Okay, fine.” He smirks in the face of my defiance. 

He uses his evol to yank my hands up above my head. He slides the shirt over me until it settles completely over me. He doesn’t bother to hide his satisfaction once I’m covered up, and he smirks as he looks at the shirt. His hand plays with the hem, his fingertips skating against the skin of my upper thigh. His hand is so close to where I need him most, so close to uncovering just how ruined I am for him. 

He leans in close to me again, as though magnetized to my body in the same way that I am to his. His other hand comes to rest on the small of my back, fisting the fabric of his shirt lightly in his large grasp. 

“Pip-squeak, is this my shirt?” He asks in a low, teasing voice full of dark promise. 

 I shiver at his tone, and there’s no way he doesn’t feel it with his hold over me. His eyes flicker across my face, taking in every minute expression, obsessively calculating and watching me. I all but blossom under his attention. The heat between us is unbearable and my eyes flutter as his thumb traces an idle pattern right along the sensitive skin of my upper thigh. 

I’m lost in his eyes, in his touch, in his heat. My brain is scrambled and focused only on the scant distance between us. If only he would lean in. If only he would ease some of the desperation that I’ve always felt for him. 

He’s merciless though. He sees how lost I am in the fog, and he leans in. His breath lands on my lips, and my spine arches beneath his hand. He gasps, and I feel his exhale wash over me. His scent, warm and rich and achingly familiar, saturates my nose, and I want to inhale him forever. I want to bury my head in his neck and lick and bite and mark him as mine. 

The pressure of his hands on my thigh robs me of all thought, and they tremble as his grip abandons my shirt entirely, to span across the back of my thigh. His hand is so large and so hot that it spans across the entire side and back of it. I’m engulfed by him. I want him to pull it up and fit himself between my thighs where he belongs.

“Caleb,” I sigh, unable to help myself. 

He groans and his chest heaves as he struggles to breathe deep. His fingers twitch against my thigh, and his hand on my back grips the fabric of the shirt tighter. “I asked you a question, pip-squeak,” he mutters low, a breath away from my lips, “did you wear my shirt here?” 

“Yes,” I whisper against his lips. 

His answering groan is a broken, needy sound that I’ll play on repeat in my mind for the rest of my life. His grip hardens until it’s all but bruising, and his chest heaves with his uneven breaths. 

“Good girl,” he purrs. 

It’s my turn to sigh, as his praises washes over me like an electric current. Every nerve in my body tingles with pleasure and warmth and yearns for more, for everything he can give me. I melt in his arms. 

The heat and hunger inside of me is mirrored in his violet eyes, and for just a moment there is no doubt, there is no fear, there is only the instinctual primal knowledge that he feels exactly the way that I do. 

But he pulls away. 

In a blink of an eye, that look is gone, and the warmth there is instead as familiar to me as the sound of my own name. The tension dissipates like smoke in the wind, and I return to my own body feeling empty and hollow. 

Of course I’m wrong. He’ll never understand how I feel. He’ll never feel the same way about me. After all, I’m just his little sister. 

“Come on, pip-squeak, let’s get you home.”

The memory plays on repeat in my head as I slide on the bikini and make my way down to the pool. It’s technically the second one, as the original mysteriously went missing from my closet days after the party. I purchased it again out of spite, knowing that Caleb had something to do with it, but I never had the guts to wear it again. 

The pool is heated, but it still is cool enough to chill my overheated skin. My head is lost in the heat of the memory, and if I close my eyes I can hear the sounds of the party going on all around me. I can feel the way Caleb crowded into me afterwards, how his eyes looked so angry and so hungry at the same time. It wasn’t the first moment we’ve shared like that, but it always leaves me confused and wanting. It will be an eternal mystery without an answer to understand what’s going on in his mind when he acts like that. 

I swim laps in the pool, pushing myself to at least get a good workout in, if my mind is determined to fixate on him. I imagine how he must look with his friends right now at the court. Is his hair clumped and dripping with sweat? Is he still wearing his tank, the white material clinging to his broad shoulders and made transparent with the slickness of his body? Or did he abandon it entirely, showing off his physique and my necklace for the world to see. 

I can imagine how his muscles twist and bunch as he moves around the court. If I were there watching, I know he would turn to look at me and wink before shooting. When the ball would inevitably sink in the basket he would mouth to me that his win was for me. 

My arousal is unbearable at this point. Dusk falls over the pool, and I pause, gasping for breath, as I will my body to calm down. I know the slick between my thighs is wet from more than just the pool, but I can’t bear to do anything about it just yet. I don’t know when Caleb will be home, and I can’t imagine what he would do if he found me fucking myself in the pool. The thought makes my cheeks burn and my nipples tingle. 

After a deep sigh, I groan as I pull myself out of the pool. My muscles burn from the exertion, and my legs feel like jelly. I wrap myself in the towel and give myself a few minutes to collect my breath. By the time I enter the house, the sky is a darkened blanket of stars, and the illumination of the kitchen stretches across the grass. 

As I make my way to my room, there’s a sound that makes me freeze. I pause mid-step, and my breath rushes out of my lungs at once. 

It was a moan. A high-pitched one. My ears strain as I will my heart to stop its quick beating so I can hear it again. Did I hallucinate it? Did I will my deepest fears into coming true? Again, a moan echoes throughout the house, this time longer and whinier. It’s followed by a masculine reprimand. I can’t hear what he says, but his tone is angry. I’m so startled that I drop the towel on the stairs.

Caleb’s home. And he’s not alone. 

The hurt that stabs into my heart is overwhelming. It’s like I can feel as it disintegrates piece by piece, the cracks fissuring out into nothing until it resembles a husk of something that can never be repaired. I feel adrift in my own body. Unmoored. My feet walk me in a trance towards the door to his room, and I don’t know if it’s better or worse that it’s left partially open. 

I can’t even pretend I don’t feel a wave of self-loathing as I peer through the opening in the door to look inside. 

Caleb is on the bed, some woman collapsed and all but prone underneath him. His naked back is rigid with tension, and his hips furiously pound into her. I can see his profile, see his thick, long cock as it batters into the girl’s cunt. She whines again, her pleasure obvious as she fists tightly into the sheets below. 

Caleb’s face twists in fury. And his hand comes down hard on her ass. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Caleb growls. His voice is dark, monstrous, and if it weren’t for the fact that I saw the words coming from his mouth, I wouldn’t have believed it was him at all, “I don’t want to fucking hear you,” he snarls, “make one more fucking noise and I’ll gag you. Nod if you understand.” 

I hear a needy, breathless whine, and she nods her head. Caleb hisses before the vicious smacking of skin on skin fills the air as he fucks her again. 

I can’t breathe. I shouldn’t be watching this. But my feet are frozen to the spot. The drops of pool water dripping down my skin no longer leave me chilled, but the subtle sensation sets me on fire. 

I know the feelings I harbor for him are wrong. But in all of the ways I’ve imagined him fucking before, I didn’t know he could be this cold, this dominant. I always imagined him as a passionate lover, as someone who gave and gave and gave until the point where he was so wound up he had to take. I imagined he would whisper sweet words and praise in my ear while filling me up slowly, tenderly, forcing me to feel every slow inch of his cock. 

But I was wrong. Caleb’s hands grip hard on the girl’s hips, and his pounding thrusts are brutal. They rock the bed with their ferocity, and I can see his skin glisten with sweat from his exertion. The girl tries to turn her head around to look at him, and he fists her hair and pushes her face back down into the comforter. 

“I don’t want to look at you. I don’t want to see your face. I just want to see your ass.” He pants. 

He’s so cold, so detached, it leaves me breathless. But the sight of him being so dominant, of him being so ruthless in his pursuit of pleasure, makes my cunt flutter, aching and empty around nothing. 

I never imagined him to be so rough, and now I can’t imagine him any other way. I imagine it’s me instead of her that he’s fucking so ruthlessly. I imagine the battering of his thick cock, long and hard enough to hit my cervix over and over again, uncaring of how much pain or pleasure I feel as long as he gets to fill me again and again. 

“S-slow d-down. It-it’s too—” the girl moans through broken breaths. 

“No,” he growls, and if anything, fucks her even harder. 

The girl wails, and his hand comes down hard on her ass again. It leaves a bright red imprint that stands out against her pale skin. 

“Please!” She whines. 

Caleb growls in frustration and grabs the girl by the throat. He pauses his fucking, while deep inside of her, but his body is anything but relaxed. 

“If you want me to stop, then say your safe word,” he demands, “otherwise I don’t wanna hear you speak again. Do I make myself clear?” 

The girl’s face is wet with sweat and tears, but she keeps her mouth shut. Caleb once again pins her down by the throat and begins to roughly fuck her in earnest. This time, when he throws her down, he’s angled more towards me. I can do nothing more than watch, transfixed, as his abs flex and roll as his hips smoothly thrust back and forth. His head falls back, and his neck is stretched, slick with sweat, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he groans with pleasure. 

Despite the betrayal in my heart, I’ve never been more aroused in my life. My thighs are all but soaked from the arousal that trickles down from my weeping cunt. In a daze, my hand trails down my stomach and grazes gently along the outside of my folds through the fabric. The slight touch is enough to make me gasp and my eyes flutter. But just as quickly as they close, I open them again to keep watching Caleb. 

I pull the bikini bottoms to the side, and swipe a finger through the slick heat of my cunt. It’s obscene, the amount of moisture that coats my hand immediately. It drools out of me, with stray drops puddling on the floor. I insert two fingers almost immediately and try to match the pace of his thrusts. It’s intense, almost too much, and yet it’s so severely not enough. The feeling of fullness, even if it’s only partial, is bliss after aching for him for hours. I can’t help the sigh that escapes me, and my other hand grips tight on the doorframe for support. 

“Oh fuck,” Caleb groans, his pleasure mounting higher. The sound makes me flutter against my fingers, and I hold back my whine in response. I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood, as I fuck myself to the sound of his cock driving back and forth. When I glance back at him, his eyes are closed in pleasure, and his neck and chest are stained deep red. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he moans. His hips stutter as he drives hard into her over and over again. I match his pace, and within seconds I feel like I’m on the edge with him. “Mmm, fuck just like that. Take my cock, just like that. Fuck, I’m cumming, y/n,” he groans. 

It’s the sound of my name moaned breathlessly between his lips that sets me off like dynamite. My orgasm is intense, wracking every sense in my body until I’m shaking and sputtering for breath. The puddle on the floor is large now, from the force of my need for him. My spine tingles all the way down to my toes, and a high lifts my body to the heavens. 

He moaned my name. 

He may have been fucking her, but he moaned for me. 

The knowledge chases away some of the bitterness in my chest. It prolongs the tremors that crash over me again and again. 

I watch with bleary eyes as Caleb slips out of her and peels off the condom. The girl whines, obviously not finished yet, but Caleb just glares down at her. A flash of anger and disgust wash over his face, and it sends a chill down my spine. I almost don’t recognize him.

“C’mon, Caleb, make me cum. I’m so close,” the girl gasps. 

He pulls back from her and ties the condom into a knot before throwing it in the trash by his bed. “Do it yourself,” he says coldly. 

The girl flips over and looks at him. “Don’t be like that,” she says, shocked. 

He just raises a brow at her while he catches his breath and leans back against the headboard. “Don’t be like what? You’re just a hole to fill. Now that I’ve used you, I’m done.” He states coldly. 

The girl glares at him before getting off of the bed. “You are such a fucking asshole. I never should have fucking come here. Don’t ever talk to me or call me again.” She says as she furiously finds her clothes and puts them back on. 

Caleb just rolls his eyes in the face of her anger. “I wasn’t planning on it anyway,” he just says, rubbing salt in the wound. 

The girl lets out a huff of frustration while Caleb rolls off the bed. I take in the sight of him completely unhindered, and despite being soft now, he’s still a magnificent sight to see. He reaches for the discarded boxers on the floor and slips them on easily. 

I should leave now. With my heart pounding, I all but run towards the bathroom and turn on the shower. Not even seconds later, I hear as two pairs of footsteps walk past, one angry and one lazy. I hold my breath, not even daring to breathe, until I hear the door slam shut. 

I exhale and close my eyes, before stripping my bikini off. I hop in the shower and rinse off my hands, before rubbing them over my face. I’m shaking, I realize belatedly. My skin feels like it’s stretched too thin over my muscles, and the blood that races in my veins is near a boiling point. I don’t even know where to begin to decipher how I feel. 

The sight of his orgasm with my name on his lips plays like a record in my head, and I can’t feel anything except for the heat that refuses to dissipate from my body. I’ve never felt a need like this before. It’s all-consuming, chasing away every other stray thought from my mind. 

He thought of me as he came. It was my name he called out. Did he wish she were me? Is that how he wanted to fuck me? The thought makes my legs shake and I have to brace myself against the slick tile wall of the shower. I’ve never even thought of having sex that rough before. 

To be fair, since I was still a virgin, I had no basis of comparison, but I didn’t think it was possible to be like that. Was Caleb kinky? Did he want the whips and chains? Did he want me to call him ‘sir’ and let him fuck me into submission? The thought makes my pulse pound and my core clench. Did I want that too? 

Every fantasy I had of Caleb kissing me tenderly as he made love to me seems foolishly naive in retrospect. I always knew there was a darkness inside of him, but I had no idea he would unleash it like that. Did I like it? Was I okay with it? 

My thoughts continue to spiral out of control. The only thing I know is that my desire for Caleb is a constant. No matter how he wants me, I will want him in turn. Whether that means rough and degrading or soft and tender, I’ll take any shade of him as long as it means having him to myself. 

And he called out my name. 

A sudden bang on the bathroom door makes me yelp, and I flinch beneath the spray. “Pip-squeak, hurry up,” Caleb calls from the other side, “I gotta take a leak.” 

My heart is caught in my throat and my breath stops. There’s another bathroom down the hall. I know he knows that. So why is he here bothering me? 

“Fuck off,” I shout back. 

I force myself to sound normal, to sound like I didn’t fuck myself to him railing a random girl into next Tuesday. I hear the muffled sound of a growl before he bangs again on the door. 

“I’m coming in, don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” he shouts. 

He barges into the bathroom, and makes a beeline for the toilet. 

“Caleb, what the fuck?” I shout at him, covering myself up despite the fact that the curtain that separates us is completely opaque. 

He groans in exaggerated pleasure and I hear the sound of his piss hitting the water. I’m so shocked, so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened in the last thirty minutes, that I can’t even react. What the fuck is he doing? What is he playing at? 

I hear the stream taper off, before the soft closing of the lid. At least he has the decency not to flush while I’m in the shower. 

“Pip-squeak,” comes his voice from the other side of the curtain. He sounds unrecognizable, his voice husky and deep. I’ve never heard him say my nickname like that before. It makes my pulse pound and my pussy drool, and it’s all I can do to keep myself upright against the tile. 

“Y-yeah?” I ask him belatedly. My voice is small and breathy in the bathroom. It echoes back to me and makes me cringe from how needy I sound. 

“Where did you get this?” He asks. 

My brow furrows and I struggle to think about what he could be referring to. Swallowing the tattered shreds of my dignity, I pull back the curtain just enough to peek around and see what he’s referring to. 

He’s so close. Too close. All at once I’m hyperaware of how naked and vulnerable I am in front of him. He stands there, all power and menace, naked except for his boxers, with the bottoms of my bikini dangling from his fingertips. My face flushes scarlet, as I see him holding them. 

They must be saturated with my arousal by now, and he must mistake the wetness for pool water. He stares down hard at the fabric, a tension vibrating in his muscles that I’ve never seen before. Not even moments ago when he was balls deep in some random woman. 

“What do you mean?” I ask him breathily. 

He rubs the fabric between his fingers, and makes a point of gliding his thumb through the gusset, collecting the slick on his hands. My mortification is enough to make me wince as I see him rub it back and forth on his fingers. I want to tell him what he’s doing so he can at least be informed, but speaking those words aloud makes me want to die. 

“I thought I confiscated this bikini from you,” he says coldly, before finally turning to look at me. His expression is hard and restrained. Like he’s on the brink of something terrifying and out of control. “Did you take these from me?” 

I can’t even point out the absurdity of his question with how intensely he’s glaring at me. Did that mean he kept it? I thought he just threw them out. Does he still have my original bikini now? Why?

“I bought a new one,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. 

His hand clenches tight, and his muscles twitch. He laughs to himself, but the sound is humorless and cold. 

“You always enjoyed testing me, didn’t you, pip-squeak,” he says, before glancing back at the bikini bottoms in his hand. He makes a point of gliding his hands more intentionally through the remains of my arousal before bringing up his hand between us. My slick shins on his thick fingers, and my brain short-circuits. 

He knows. 

I don’t know how he does, but it becomes immediately clear that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows that he’s feeling my arousal on his fingertips. He knows. 

“You never knew when to stop, did you?” he asks, his voice accusatory and deep. His violet eyes lock onto mine, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth. He breathes deep, filling his lungs with the scent of my musk, and his eyes flutter closed. He pauses, breathing it in for several moments, and his massive chest heaves with the force of his inhale. 

I can’t speak. I can’t think. Like the moments before, I’m frozen, unable to do anything more than watch. The arousal I tried to subdue before roars to an inferno at the sight of him reveling in the scent of my musk coating his fingers. I must have died. I must have drowned in the pool and this is all some kind of delirious fever dream one sees before their death. There’s no other rational explanation for why Caleb is doing any of this. 

“I have to wonder, is this my penance? My punishment? That you got to watch me, but I’ve never been able to watch you?”

My uneven breath is his only answer. I grip the curtain tight in my grip and can do nothing more than stand there with heat radiating between my thighs. 

“Do you want to?” I ask him. The question is out of my mouth before I can process it. It hangs in the tension of the humid air between us, thick with unspoken need and anticipation. 

Caleb freezes, and his eyes flutter open. The darkness, the hunger, the yearning in his purple eyes is a palpable touch on my soul. I tremble with the intensity in his stare, and watch as he guides his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. He moans at the taste, and works at each digit with a lascivious diligence. His eyes remain fixed on me, giving me no mercy but to allow him the sight of watching me watch him taste me.

“Do you really want to cross that line?” He asks in a low, dark voice, “because if you do, I’ll want to do a lot more than just watch.” 

My heart flutters like a hummingbird in my chest, and I feel a wild, animalistic need overtake me. I feel like I’m watching an out of body experience as my hand tugs at the shower curtain and pulls it back, baring my body for his viewing pleasure. Caleb’s eyes dip immediately, and his chest heaves as he gasps for breath. 

He looks ruined just from looking at me. His eyes survey every inch of skin that has never been seen by him before. His gaze is covetous, molten, and scorches me from the inside out. I thought I would feel self-conscious if I were ever naked before him. I imagined he would make me feel shy and insecure. 

But all I feel now is power. The way he looks at me is like a sinner looking up at his god. His gaze is worshipful, devoted, and full of a need that echoes inside the very depths of my being. I like being naked in front of him, I realize, if he can make me feel this desired from just a look alone. 

“Are you sure?” He asks again, and his voice cracks. The sound is so endearing that my heart swells and surges, stitching itself over the ruptures he caused so recently. I hold my hand out to him, beckoning him to join me in the shower. 

He strips in a daze, stepping out of his boxers with his eyes unblinkingly fixed on my body. As he steps towards me, the heat between us climbs to an unbearable level. He takes my hand tenderly, the skin of his palm gliding delicately against mine, before his larger hand engulfs mine entirely. 

He reaches out for me with his other hand, but I step back. Immediately, he freezes, and a look of confusion and alarm breaks him out of his trance. 

“I don’t want you to touch me after you just fucked someone else.” I say sternly over the pelting sound of the shower. 

He swallows thickly, and his violet eyes fill with guilt and regret. “She meant nothing to me,” he says earnestly. I believe him, after seeing the way that he treated her. “If I had known that I could have had you instead, I never would have looked elsewhere. You’re the only person I’ve ever truly wanted.” 

The hand he holds he brings up to his forehead and leans into my touch. He closes his eyes and breathes deep, the weight of his guilt crushing down on his broad shoulders. He is every bit the sinner come to repent and beg for forgiveness. 

“Why did you take another woman?” I ask him, my voice trembling despite myself. 

He sighs, and the sound is choked, like he’s breathing around a lump in his throat. His grip on my hand grows tighter, and he presses it deeper into his face. 

“You have no idea how much being in the same house as you, being around you again, drives me crazy. There isn’t a single thought I have that doesn’t involve you. That doesn’t involve all of the things I want to do to you,” he confesses, nuzzling into the palm he holds captive, before pressing a kiss to the skin, “Every smile, every sigh, every touch, every breath you take, and I’m a slave to this need, this obsession. It burns inside of me. And I needed a release. An outlet. Because I couldn’t have you.”

His eyes fix on mine, and the weight of his hunger settles deep into the marrow of my bones. Obsession. That’s what he called it. I can see it in the darkness that shadows his eyes, in the need that coils tight between his muscles and tissue. It beckons to something inside of me, a mirrored desire and fixation, coaxes it to the surface at the slightest tremble of his lips. 

“But you’ve always had me,” I whisper. 

Caleb groans, and he nuzzles further into my touch, kissing my palm before sucking the skin into his mouth. His chest heaves as he gasps for breath, its the same unevenness in my own. 

“Tell me what to do. Tell me how to make it up to you. I’ll do anything, as long as you tell me that I haven’t ruined this chance,” he begs. His other hand tentatively reaches out towards me, and when he sees that I don’t back away this time, he tenderly cradles my face in his palm. 

The air between us stretches and thins as he leans down closer to me. His lips are mere inches away, and his eyes study mine closely. The sensation of power rushes through me again, as I realize that I hold the weight of his heart firmly in my hand. I know that I can break him with a word, that I can shatter his heart as coldly and as cruelly as he shattered mine. 

I lean into his palm and stare up at him. I brace myself, prepare myself for the worst, but I have to know before any of this continues. “Tell me everything you did to her.” 

He answers immediately. “I kissed her neck, used my hands to warm her up, and then fucked her until I came.” 

“You didn’t kiss her?” 

“No.”

“Did you put your fingers inside of her?” 

“No, I just rubbed her clit.”

“Did you think of me?” 

“Yes, always.”

“I want you to do to me exactly what you did to her,” I demand, “I want to feel what she felt.”

But Caleb freezes. His eyes flicker back and forth between mine, searching for something in the depths. 

“No, I can’t,” he whispers brokenly. 

“Why not?” I ask him.

“Because I would never treat you the way I treated her. I can’t. You don’t deserve that.”

“But she did?”

“She isn’t you.”

His answer makes the breath catch in my throat. His thumb strokes idly along my cheekbone, wiping away at the stray drops that collect on my face. His expression is so full of adoration and need that it scrambles my ability to think. My heart races at its implications. 

“Then I want you to do to me what you would have, if she was me,” I say quietly. 

Caleb’s eyes close and he lets out a broken moan. His other hand drops mine and wraps around my waist, pulling my body tightly into his. The sudden feeling of his slick skin pressed tightly into me makes my brain short-circuit. His cock is rigid and twitches between the tight press of my belly. The knowledge that it’s Caleb’s cock that rests against my skin nearly sends me into a frenzy. I’m overwhelmed by him, every sense taken over by need and desire and yearning that I’ve felt since the day that I could first form memories. 

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” He moans in my ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and sucking gently. The feeling of his mouth on my skin sends me into overdrive, and I cling to his shoulders for support. My spine arches into him, pressing our bodies even tighter together, and he groans, rutting his hips into me as his cock twitches eagerly. 

Everything in me screams to give in, to finally surrender. But my hand on his shoulder pushes back, and he gently responds, unlatching his mouth from my ear to peer down at me curiously. 

“Not yet,” I say, “Not while you still smell like her. Clean yourself off first.” 

He immediately reaches for the soap behind me. He pours a liberal amount of shower gel into his hands before working it all over his body with a mechanical precision. He’s rough with himself, swiping over his body with firm, indelicate gestures. I take the bottle from him and squeeze some out into my palm. He freezes as he cleans himself, instead focused on me as I begin to rub the soap into my skin. 

In contrast to him, I take my time with myself. I run the soap along my shoulders and arms, tracing each inch of skin slowly before running my hands back up. I spread it over my breasts, rubbing it into my nipples with slight rolls and pinches, before cupping the full weight of my breasts in my hands. Caleb’s heated gaze is glassy with his lust, and his hand idly strokes down his chiseled abdomen to palm at his erection. 

The sight of his soapy fist wrapped around the thick length of his cock makes my breath stutter and my core clench. I can’t look away from the veins of his lower abdomen, and my eyes track them as they lead down the thick veins of his cock. It looks large, even in his hand, and the thought of taking it inside of me makes me feel apprehensive. 

“I like the way you’re looking at me. So brazen. You like looking at my cock, pip-squeak?” He asks with a throaty groan. 

A flush spreads down from my cheeks to my tits, and his eyes trace along the length of it with greed. He licks his lips and his smirk deepens. All I can do is nod, while my eyes fix on his hand clenching and pumping at his length. He groans, and I see his cock twitch, and my mouth floods with the thought of feeling that twitch against my tongue. 

“Keep going, baby, I want you to be nice and clean for me,” he commands. 

Somewhere along the way, somehow, the power dynamic switched, and I find myself helpless to his demand. My hands follow his instruction, continuing to spread the soap down my abdomen and to my legs. I raised my foot on the edge of the tub and work the soap into my calves, massaging the muscle as I work my way higher. Caleb groans as I part my legs, but his eyes follow my hands as they work. 

When every inch of my body is clean, I finally trail my hands towards my messy cunt. I swipe my hands through the thick slick of my arousal, and I lean back against the tile to hold myself up. Caleb bites his lip, and grips the base of his cock with an iron fist. The head of it is deep red, and shines with a mixture of water and pre-cum. 

“Let me see what you were doing to yourself earlier. Let me see how you made a mess of yourself on the floor,” he demands. 

I whine as mortification flushes my cheeks. Is that how he knew? Did he see the puddle of arousal I made? How did he know it was me? But despite my shame, I follow his command. I part my labia, exposing my hole to his gaze and slowly slide a finger inside myself. 

The stretch makes me sigh, and I push it in as deep as I can before pumping slowly. Caleb moans, his hand still gripping tight as he stares at my hand disappearing into my cunt. 

“Add another finger, baby,” he requests. 

I do as he says and add another finger, and the feeling of fullness makes me clench down hard on my fingers. 

“Mmm that’s it,” Caleb hums, “Did you fuck yourself so gently earlier?” 

I shake my head, distrusting of my voice. 

“Then show me how you fucked yourself. Show me how you made yourself cum.” 

I increase the speed of my hand, mimicking the fast, hard thrusts of his cock earlier. The pace is relentless, and my muscles tighten as I push myself rapidly towards the edge. I whine into the air, and the sound buzzes in my ears as my orgasm creeps closer and closer and closer. The weight of his eyes on me, on the heat and greed in his gaze, does more for me than my own hands, and I’m on the brink before I know it. 

“Caleb, I’m gonna cum,” I moan. 

His eyes flutter shut and he moans, before his hand pumps hard on his cock. “Cum for me, pip-squeak. I got you. Let me see you.”

It’s like my body waited for his permission before it crests over me. The orgasm seizes my muscles tight, and I throw my head back against the wall. My cries are loud and echo in the bathroom, mixing with the obscene sounds of my hands fucking into my cunt. Caleb moans, and I open my eyes in time to watch as he spills into the tub, his cock twitching furiously as he pumps himself to the point of overstimulation. I watch the creamy white of his spend swirl down the drain with a tinge of disappointment that I don’t understand. 

Our panting breaths are loud, and for a moment we both just look at each other, as if neither of us can really believe what’s happened. Caleb recovers first, and stalks forward, crowding me into the wall. He reaches behind me and turns off the water. His face hovers close to mine, and despite the waves of my orgasm receding, the hunger in his eyes sets me on fire. 

“That was the last orgasm you’ll ever have without me, pip-squeak.” He vows. 

He slams his lips into mine with all the weight of his pent up need, and I melt in his arms. His lips devour mine as he plunders mine with a passion that takes my breath away. He grabs ahold of my thighs and pulls me up and into his arms. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist and my hands grab at his hair, bringing his head closer into me. He groans into the kiss, and begins to walk us towards my room. 

He tastes like everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Like apples and musk, and freedom and home. His cock is still half-hard as it nestles against my core, and I rock my hips experimentally against him. His hands on my hips are bruising, and he groans into the kiss, ripping his mouth away with a punishing nip at my bottom lip. 

“Behave,” he growls. 

The reprimand sends shivers down my spine, and he smirks as he feels it. 

“Does my little sister like being told what to do? I can feel how wet that just made you,” he groans. 

“Don’t call me that,” I pout. I nip at the skin along his jaw in retaliation, and his fingers twitch. 

“What do you want me to call you then?” He asks in a husky voice.

“Yours. Call me anything of yours. Except for that.” I say into his skin. My mouth continues its exploration of his neck, and I lick along the path of water that trails down from his hair. 

He groans and nods. “I can do that. Do you like it when I call you baby?” 

I nod as I continue to lick and suck at his neck. His skin reddens beneath my touch, and the sight of the marks does something feral inside of me. 

He presses me back into the bed and climbs over me. He settles between my parted thighs with a teasing rock of his hips, and his cock glides slowly over my clit. My hips jump at the stimulation, and I moan, my nails digging into the strong muscles of his biceps. 

“Anything else you wanna tell me before we continue?” He asks. 

I wrack my brain to think of anything that he could do that I wouldn’t like, but I draw a blank. As long as Caleb is the one doing it to me, I am open to trying anything. 

There is a massive elephant in the room that I need to address though. The thought of bringing it up makes a sudden wave of anxiety settle over me, and I bury my face in the crook of his neck again. Caleb senses the change in me, and pushes my wet hair back from my face, and strokes along the skin of my shoulders. His touch is soothing and familiar in a way that helps make it easier to open up to him. 

“I’ve never done it before,” I whisper into his skin. 

Caleb freezes above me, and a shudder wracks through his body. He breathes in deep, his heart racing against my palm that hovers against his chest. 

“Did,” Caleb begins, before swallowing hard and trying again, “did you wait for me?” 

His voice is so tender, so full of emotion, that I feel the hot prick of tears sting my eyes. I squeeze them shut and cling even tighter to him, trying to swallow past the emotion that threatens to drown me. I nod. 

It’s like I can feel the shift in his body, as he exhales deep into me. His touch, while gentle before, is downright covetous now. He presses a kiss into my hair, and clings to me tight, as though it will calm the trembling in his body too. 

“What have you done?” He asks softly. 

“I’ve only ever kissed. Everything else is, um, something I’ve done to myself.” I confess. 

He groans, and I feel his cock twitch from half-hard to erect. I can feel as it lengthens and hardens against the slippery folds of my cunt, and Caleb absently rocks his hips gently back and forth, barely hinting at the stimulation his cock promises. 

“Have you only ever used your fingers?” He asks me. 

I shake my head no. “I have a toy.” 

“How big is it?” He asks, “I want to know how much I’ll need to prep you.”

My cheeks burn, and I can’t move my face from his neck to have this conversation face to face. “It’s smaller than you, but I already broke my hymen the first time I used it.” 

He moans into my ear, and the feeling of his breath is hot and warm against my skin. Still a seed of doubt lingers in me. 

“Is that okay?” I ask him, my voice small. 

“Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be?” He asks, genuine confusion in his voice. 

I can only shrug. “I thought you would want to do it yourself. Are you…disappointed that you can’t?” 

His idle strokes along my skin find my wrists, and he loosens my tight grip on him enough to pull back. One of his hands finds my chin and lifts my face up to look at him. 

“Nothing you can do will ever be a disappointment to me. The fact that you saved yourself from me,” he trails off, at a complete loss for words. His eyes glimmer with an unnamed emotion, before his resolve seems to hit him at once, “I will spend the rest of our lives letting you know every single second of every single day how much that means to me. How much you mean to me. And then I’ll do it all again in the next lifetime after that. And then the next one after that. And then the next one—“

“Okay, okay I get it,” I giggle, my eyes wet with emotion. He smirks at my reaction, before his face gets serious again. His eyes are imploring as he looks down at me, his hand cradling the side of my face. 

“Do you?” He asks gently. 

And I know what he means without words. The tears in my eyes spill over, and he catches each one with his thumbs, wiping them away tenderly. I nod, and smile past the lump in my throat. “Yes, I do.” I gasp. 

He kisses me again, and this time it’s tender. While the passion is still there, it’s shifted. No longer frenzied, but instead worshipful, devoted. His tongue traces along the swell of my lips as though committing their shape to memory with its touch. His hands cradle my head, fingers tangling in the damp strands of my hair as he holds me in place to receive his kiss. 

My hands skate along his skin in kind, tracing along the path of his shoulders in the way that I’ve always longed to. They map out every bump and smooth expanse of his skin in the same desperate need to commit his body to memory. 

His mouth descends from mine to make a path down my throat. His large hands sweep tenderly down my arms, his touch just light enough to raise goosebumps along my skin as I shiver with the need for more. He seems to delight in my sensitivity, as I feel him smile into my throat, before his mouth dedicates itself back to marking me up as I did to him. 

Despite having orgasmed so recently, my blood runs hot, and my core aches with need. Every teasing breath and every light touch only makes me yearn for more. I wonder if his tenderness is because he’s afraid of handling me any rougher. Does he see my virginity as a need to treat me like glass? What if I want more?

“Caleb,” I moan, “stop teasing.”

He bites down gently on my pulse, before he soothes the mark with his tongue. “Don’t rush me. I’ve had over ten years to imagine how I would savor you for the first time. Let me indulge myself a bit.” 

I can’t really argue against such a sweet response like that, but Caleb does take the hint and progress things along. His mouth descends to my breasts, and he tenderly kisses my left nipple, while rolling and caressing my right. The feeling of his mouth on my body is more than I can bear, and I sigh, my back arching into his touch. He pulls back with a messy pop, and his violet eyes are glassy with lust. 

“Hi,” he whispers to my nipple. 

I peer down at him and giggle at his absurdity. “Did you just greet my boob?”

Caleb looks up at me and winks before capturing the bud in his teeth and gently pulling. The soft pinch of pain, makes me whine, and Caleb studies my reaction greedily. 

“They’re so perfect they deserve a proper introduction. After all, we’re going to be very acquainted with one another,” he grins into my skin. 

I roll my eyes, but he captures my nipple again, and bites harder. The pain is sharper, and sends tingles down straight to my core, and my hips rock into him automatically. He hums against my skin, and sucks and soothes at the tight bud in return. With every swipe of his tongue and twist of his fingers, the ache between my thighs grows worse. My hips rock and surge against him, and the tip of his cock glides along the folds of my cunt just enough to provide a hint of stimulation, but not enough to give me what I want. 

I huff, and buck my hips up properly, rocking my cunt hard against the tip of his cock. Caleb moans around my nipple, and bites hard in retaliation, while his hips flex and rock into me. 

He leans up and his lips are swollen and red, slicked with his saliva. The slight makes my pulse pound, and my cunt flutters against his thick length. He grinds his hips more purposefully into me, intentionally dragging out the sensation of his cock sliding against my clit. I keen into the air, my fists twisting tight into the sheets, while my hips raise and chase after the sensation. 

“So fucking greedy. So desperate. You always were so impatient.” He groans, before sliding further down. 

I moan at the loss of his cock against my clit, and he chuckles deep and dark. He uses his hands to pry my legs even farther apart, practically pressing my knees into the mattress. He toys with my flexibility experimentally, before hoisting my legs over his shoulders. Caleb turns his head and presses kisses down the skin of my knees up to my thighs, taking his time to enjoy every tremor and tremble his mouth elicits from its touch. I’m practically shaking by the time he turns to repeat his gentle seduction along my other leg. 

“Caleb, please!” I whine into the air, my hand threading into the soft locks of his hair. He hums and flashes a wicked grin at me, his purple eyes narrowed in mischief. 

“Well since you asked so nicely,” he purrs. 

He trails his nose along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, before hovering just next to my weeping cunt. His eyes drink it in, and he inhales deep, his nostrils flaring as he savors my scent. He groans and his hips twitch against the mattress. His hand releases his grip on my thigh to gently stroke between my folds, spreading my labia apart so he can see every inch of me. 

“It weeps so pretty for me,” he marvels in awe, as his fingers swipe through the thick layer of my arousal. It weeps from my core, staining a puddle into my sheets. The feeling of his fingers, knowing that Caleb is doing this to me, has my heart racing and my cunt flutters in anticipation. He groans at the sight, as more slick dribbles out, and catches it with his tongue. 

Caleb eats me out like a starved man. His tongue is relentless, spearing over every millimeter of my cunt, collecting every drop of arousal that spills out of me. My head is thrown back, and my spine arches, and my grip on his hair tightens. He moans as I pull at his hair, and the vibrations on my cunt make me shriek. He enters my hole with his tongue, fucking me with it, while his thumb traces circles over my clit. 

My hips buck wildly, and he uses the rest of his hand to push down on my abdomen, holding me in place. His other arm wraps around my thigh, holding me open so he can continue to feast on my cunt. The sensations overwhelm me, and I’m reduced to putty in his hands. He’s always been so intuitive with me, always known exactly what to do and how to do it. His knowledge translates perfectly into playing my body like an instrument he’s studied for years. 

It takes mere minutes for me to be on the edge again. My cries of pleasure are loud in the room, interrupted only by the lewd sucking noises he makes with his mouth and occasional groans of pleasure. His thumb moves faster over my clit, combined with the feeling of his tongue stretching me out and filling me over and over again, and my body seizes. 

“Caleb, I’m gonna—“ I shout. I can’t even finish warning him, before he groans into my pussy, and sends me over the edge. The pleasure that crashes into me is transformative. My ears ring, and my lungs stop, and I swear my heart stops beating, as every nerve and every cell in my body is reduced to pleasurable sensation by his hands and tongue. 

He rides out the orgasm by swapping his mouth and hands. His tongue seeks out my clit and sucks it hard into his mouth, as he swiftly plunges two fingers deep inside of me. They’re so thick, and so much longer than my own, and he rocks them in and out relentlessly. My cries are continuous, and my hips buck against his other hand that pins me down. The stimulation is too much, but it’s not enough. I can feel him expertly pushing me towards another peak. 

My cries are guttural, as he crooks his fingers inside of me, finding that spot that I could never reach on my own, and fucks me over and over and over again. 

“Caleb!” I scream, as I crest another powerful orgasm. He detaches his mouth from my cunt and instead keeps pistoning his hand inside of me, his glazed purple eyes watching me closely as I fall apart for him. 

“So fucking pretty when you come for me,” he groans, while keeping his hand pressing down hard on my abdomen. 

The sensations flood me, and I feel a pressure building inside of me that I can’t explain. The release is endless, and gushes out of me, spraying all over his hands and face. Caleb’s eyes flutter and he groans as I squirt over him. It’s only after my hands tug at his wrists that he finally gives my overstimulated cunt a break, and I lay there gasping for breath. 

Caleb looks all but drunk as he pants heavily over me, as though he just experienced an orgasm with me. He watches me for a moment before grasping my chin firmly with his hand and crashing his mouth into mine. I can taste myself on his tongue, and the knowledge that it’s me, that it’s my arousal, that saturates his tastebuds fills me with a heady kind of power. I suck on his tongue, desperate for more of it, and he groans into me, his hips grinding against my thigh as he responds to my eager passion. 

“You’ve been holding out on me, pip-squeak,” he slurrs against my lips, “didn’t know you were a squirter.” His hands rub and soothe my thighs that have yet to cease trembling. 

“I didn’t know either,” I breathe into his mouth. 

He smirks against my lips. “I’m honored to be the first.” 

He kisses me lazily, giving me more time to calm myself before pushing me to move forward. My body is languid and lazy from the aftershocks of my pleasure, but my hands roam his skin, greedy for more. My hand trails down along his shoulder to his chest, and follows the trail of my necklace down his pecs. 

I’ve always admired the strength of his body, and his dedication to keeping fit. His muscles are carved from stone, and the heat of him is solid and strong beneath my palm. It’s at odds with the frantic pace of the his heart beating furiously in his chest. As dominant as he may be, he’s still just as effected by me as I am by him. The thought makes my heart soar.

My hand trails down further, following the ridges of his defined abdomen. He gasps at the light touch, and his muscles twitch in response to my gentle exploration. I can tell he wants more, but he restrains himself, allowing me to go at my own pace. My hand continues to dip lower, idly stroking along the veins that run down his adonis belt, before wrapping around the base of his cock. 

The touch of my hand around him, makes him hiss, and I feel him twitch against my palm. I’ve never held a cock before. I don’t know how to make him feel as good as he did to me. But I want to learn. I want to repay the favor. 

With a glance at his face to gauge his reaction, I slowly glide my hand down the length of him from root to tip, slowly tightening my hold around him. He squeezes his eyes tight, and the hand he has supporting himself on the bed tightens into a ball. His other hand wraps around mine, and tightens my grip considerably, until I’m squeezing him in my fist. 

Caleb groans and his whole body shivers as he guides my hand over him, showing me how to pleasure him. After a few strokes, he lets go, and I continue to pump him as he demonstrated. He hisses in pleasure, and his breath is heavy and uneven as he leans into me. 

“Just like that. Doing so good for me, baby. Fucking perfect, like I knew you’d be.” He mutters before capturing my lips in another kiss. 

I experimentally pick up the pace, while swiping my thumb along the slit at the end, smearing his pre-cum down his length. His abs twitch, and he groans into my mouth, before pulling my hand away entirely. 

“Of course you’re a natural. Gonna make me cum if you keep that up.” He growls before devouring my mouth in a breathless kiss. 

When he pulls away, my body is hot and needy, and I think if I have to wait any longer to properly feel him inside of me I’m going to lose my mind. 

“Do you still want it, pip-squeak?” He asks against my lips. “We don’t have to today. We’ve got all the time in the world. I don’t wanna push you.” 

While I’m touched that he’s willing to hold himself back for me, I’m more focused on the obsessive need building inside of me that only he can take away. I grab ahold of his hair and jerk his head down to look at me. He hisses in pain and glares down at me, but waits for me to speak. 

“Caleb, fuck me right now. That’s an order.” I demand.  

His body ripples in pleasure as his pupils blow wide. He captures my lips in another kiss, before pulling back. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers cheekily. 

He pulls at my legs until my knees are pressed to my chest, and guides his cock towards my entrance. He holds my gaze as he slowly pushes in, feeding me his cock inch by inch. He’s big. So much bigger than my toy or his hands. But I’m so wet that the stretch is only a dull aching pinch. He fills me about halfway before rocking gently back, and I can’t help but glance down at his length. It shines with my arousal, and I whimper with the need to feel him inside me again immediately. Caleb’s hand gently grasps my chin and guides my face back to looking at him as he pushes into me again. 

“Eyes on me,” he demands.

This time he goes deeper, and the pressure builds until I have to grip him tight. It’s an ache that only expands until finally he stills, all of him inside of me. The stretch is almost more than I can take, but Caleb stays put, allowing me to slowly get used to feeling him inside of me. His shoulders tremble, and his eyes flutter shut before fixing on me again. 

“So fucking good. Feel perfect around me. Like I knew you would. Your cunt is made for me. Only me. Only I will ever fill this pussy up,” he mumbles as his mouth grazes across my neck, nipping and sucking at the skin around my collarbone. 

His possession makes me flutter, and he groans, nipping at my skin harder. 

“You like it when I tell you that you’re mine? You like it when I tell you that my cock is made to fill you up? That it will never feel empty ever again, because I will always be there to make it full?” He continues his filthy promises against my skin. 

I whine as my cunt flutters tighter around him, and the sharp edge of pain slowly begins to ebb away. His hand trails down to slowly circle my clit, and the stimulation makes me gasp, and I dig my nails into his shoulders.

He rocks his hips experimentally, before pulling about halfway out, before slowly gliding in again. Sparks dance inside of my body as he moves, and the waves of pleasure quickly overtake the pain. He captures my mouth, and moans as his hips slowly start to pick up the pace in earnest. 

With each thrust, the pain dulls to a whisper, and I feel that need for more clawing its way down my spine. He maintains his maddeningly gentle pace, and I think back to how hard, how viciously he fucked the other girl earlier, and my cunt clamps down tight in jealousy. He groans, and thrusts harder, before catching himself and slowing down again. 

“Harder,” I pant into his mouth, “please fuck me harder.” 

His hands tighten on my body, but he pulls back to study my face all the same. “Are you sure?” 

“Please, Caleb. Please fuck me harder, I’ll be so good for you, please, please, please,” I beg. 

It’s like a cord snaps inside of him at the sound of my begging, and his touch becomes iron. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming his hips hard into mine, and I wail out my pleasure into the room. The sound of it is obscene, and only makes me wilder for him. 

“You want me to fuck you hard, is that it?” He asks, while his thrusts become deep and bruising. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” I shout, my eyes rolling back in pleasure as he finally gives me what I’ve been wanting. 

His hips snap viscously back and forth, thrusting his cock deep into me over and over again. His cock bullies into my walls deliciously, and stretches me out until I can’t think, I can’t even speak, because all I am is reduced to how he feels inside of me. 

“Was trying to be nice,” Caleb growls, “but my dirty girl wants to be fucked good and hard, is that right?” 

“Yes, please, Caleb!” I scream. 

He moans and grabs at my legs and throws them together over his shoulder, bending me solidly in half, so he can continue to pound deep into me. The angle makes me grip him even tighter, and I can feel the stretch even deeper. My hands fly out, fisting in the sheets, and it’s all I can do to hang on and take his furious pounding. 

He rises up on his knees, and the sight of him, sweaty and towering over me, flushed from the exertion of fucking me, drives me to the edge. I can tell from the wild look in his glassy purple eyes that he’s close behind me. 

As if he can read my thoughts, his eyes narrow down on me like a predator, and his fucking becomes all but savage. “You gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Are you gonna cum all over my cock?”

I moan at the sinful words and stutter for air. I can feel his cock throb inside of me, and I spasm as I try to find a hold on the sheets beneath me. His thrusts are frenzied and ruthless, and it takes only a few more before I’m coming for him. His cock is relentless, dragging out the pleasure of my orgasm as my cunt spasms around him. I wail my pleasure loud into the room, and scream his name as I cum. 

“That’s it baby. Feel so fucking good. Gonna make me cum. Where do you want it?” He asks, his words half drunk as he fucks me to oblivion and back. I gather what little strength I have left in my arms and pull him down onto me. His weight smothers me, and our skin is slick with our sweat.

“Inside, please,” I whine. 

He moans and his thrusts become erratic. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and bites down while his hips rutting mindlessly as he comes. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside of me, and his hot cum filling me up brings me to a soft peak, and I clench around him, milking his cock dry. His moans and heavy breaths fill my ear, and I pull him to collapse completely on top of me. His heavy weight is grounding, and makes me feel even more connected to him as we gather our breaths. 

Finally, he rolls off of me with a huff, and pulls me with him so that I’m burrowed in his arms. He grips me tight, and his hands stroke idly along my skin, uncaring of the sweat that covers it. As our bodies cool down, he pulls back and cups my face in his hand. The look in his eyes is heavy and fills me with an emotion I can’t name. He kisses me softly, sweetly, pouring everything he feels into it. I grab tight onto his wrists and kiss him back, hoping that he can feel my response as clearly. 

“Can we do this forever?” He asks me softly. 

I turn my head and kiss the palm that cups my cheek. “Forever and ever.” 

His smile is soft and sleepy, but still filled with his trademark mischief. “And forever after that?” 

I let out a sleepy laugh and burrow tighter into his chest. The feeling of rightness, of being home, has never been stronger. “And forever after that.”

[zaahvi]

he's blighted. he's evil. he's 8 feet tall and made from magical blue goo. he's a manifestation of tyranny. he has big droopy elf ears and pretty golden eyes. he thinks his dragon shrunk in the wash. he has killed, by my count, 66 titans. he doesn't feel stress. he doesn't ask questions. he's the first elf guy ever made. he breaks out from the cringe jail he slept in for several thousands of years and immediately becomes obsessed with and down bad for the idiot loser that accidentally freed him. he puts his scribe in a blight cyst in italy. he has erased entire emotions from existence. he uses a glamour to look pretty. he transed his archdemon's gender. he loves and supports his tentacle monster sister and her horrors. he attempts to cheer her up by suggesting she give his dragon extra mouths. he goes batshit insane after she dies and rains fire on an island so hard it turns to glass. he is, canonically, packing. he may or may not be wearing a wig. creative director john epler can't stop talking about how vain he is. his gaze softened when he looked at rook. he wants them so bad even ghilan'nain calls him out on it. he forgot how to speak in the hallelujah cadence. he cucked solas. he sucks.

the man of all time. to me

[huntfeld]

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Vi x Reader

Summary: Vi and her family spend their first Christmas with the reader’s, finding warmth, laughter, and a sense of belonging in each other’s company.

———

The house buzzed with holiday energy. Twinkling lights adorned the tree, the fireplace cast a golden glow, and the smell of cinnamon and pine filled the air. Laughter and the sound of cookie decorating echoed from the kitchen while Jinx darted around the living room, a whirlwind of energy.

“This place is so shiny,” Jinx said, her wide, Shimmer-pink eyes darting to every ornament on the tree. “You’ve got, like, fifty tiny explosions hanging here. I love it!”

Isha, sitting cross-legged by the window with a steaming mug of cocoa, let out a soft hum of approval. She gave a small nod, her lips quirking into a faint smile as she traced the rim of her mug with a finger.

“They’re not explosions, Jinx,” Vi said with a smirk, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “They’re just lights.” She tilted her head toward Isha. “Right?”

Isha rolled her eyes playfully and gave Vi a thumbs-up, the corner of her mouth twitching in quiet amusement.

Jinx wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was too busy stealing a candy cane from the counter. “Bet I could turn this into a rocket launcher,” she mused, twirling it between her fingers.

“Please don’t,” you said, laughing as you caught her eye. “My mom just fixed the kitchen wall last week.”

“Fine, fine,” Jinx relented, plopping onto the couch and sprawling across it dramatically. “But only because it’s Christmas.”

Vi crossed the room to stand beside you, slipping her hand into yours. She leaned down, her voice soft enough that only you could hear. “Your family’s great. They’re treating us like we’ve been here forever.”

You smiled, lacing your fingers through hers. “That’s because you belong here.”

Her grip tightened ever so slightly, her thumb brushing over yours. “I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere before.”

“Well, now you do,” you said softly, leaning your head on her shoulder.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. Vi shifted slightly, turning to look down at you with a playful grin.

“You know,” she said, “there’s one thing missing from this whole ‘belonging’ thing.”

“And what’s that?” you asked with a smirk, knowing full well what she meant.

Without another word, Vi cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you—soft at first, then deeper, her lips warm and steady against yours.

“Oh, gross!” Jinx’s voice cut through the moment like a firecracker. “Get a room, you two!”

Vi pulled back just enough to glare at her sister, her cheeks flushed pink. “You could’ve just… looked away, Jinx.”

“Uh, no way!” Jinx retorted, throwing a blanket over her head like a makeshift cloak. “You two were practically oozing mushy love goo all over the couch!” She peeked out from under the blanket with a devilish grin. “And Vi, you’re blushing. That’s weird. Stop that.”

“I’m not blushing!” Vi shot back, her voice raising an octave.

“You totally are!” Jinx sang, tossing a pillow in Vi’s direction. “Look at her! Little Miss Tough Girl caught red-handed!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, and Vi groaned dramatically, burying her face against your shoulder. “I swear, she was easier to deal with when she was trying to blow things up.”

“You love me!” Jinx called, her voice muffled from beneath her blanket.

“Unfortunately!” Vi shouted back, but her lips quirked into a small smile as she turned her attention back to you. “Where were we?”

“Right about here,” you said, tugging her in for another kiss.

Your mom peeked in from the kitchen, her hands dusted with flour. “Vi! Jinx! Isha! Come grab cookies before the kids get to them!”

Jinx sprang up immediately, her pink eyes glowing faintly as she snatched a cookie with exaggerated speed. “I like her,” she said, pointing at your mom with a cookie in hand.

Your mom laughed, ruffling Jinx’s hair affectionately. “I like you too, sweetie.”

Isha followed with a curious tilt of her head. She took a cookie and held it up with a questioning look as if asking, Is this homemade?

Your mom nodded enthusiastically, and Isha’s expression brightened. She gave a little approving hum before taking a bite, her eyes crinkling at the corners in delight.

Vi leaned closer to you as the others mingled. “You sure we’re not too much for your family?”

“Are you kidding?” you whispered back, smiling as you watched your dad teach Isha how to play a board game, while Jinx entertained your cousins with wild stories. “You all fit perfectly.”

Later, as the house settled into a calmer rhythm, Vi pulled you aside into a quieter corner. The glow of the Christmas tree painted soft highlights on her face as she wrapped her arms around you.

“You really mean it? About us belonging here?” she asked, her voice low and hesitant.

You reached up to cup her cheek, your thumb tracing the faint scar along her cheekbone. “Of course I mean it, Vi. My family loves you. And I…” You paused, your voice catching slightly before continuing. “I love you.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to process the words. Then, with a soft smile, she leaned in, pressing her forehead to yours. “I love you too,” she whispered. “More than I can even explain.”

The two of you stayed like that, the world fading away until it was just you, her, and the soft twinkle of lights.

As the night wound down and snow began to fall outside, the house grew quieter. Jinx was curled up on the couch under a blanket, her pink eyes half-lidded as the energy of the day finally caught up with her. Isha sat nearby, flipping through a book she’d found on your family’s shelf, occasionally nodding in approval at something she read.

Vi sat with you in front of the fire, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both watched the embers dance. She tilted her head to rest against yours, her fingers lazily tracing circles on your arm.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice a low rumble, “this might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“Just wait,” you teased lightly. “You haven’t even opened your present yet.”

She chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “You’ve already given me the best gift, babe.” She kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering as if to seal the moment. “You’ve given me a home.”

For the first time in years, Vi—and her unconventional family—felt like they had truly found their place.

[ask-a-silvy]

(@ask-aeos-company) Indigo approaches Shauna. As he smiles and waves as a greeting, he makes a lil bit curious look. He draws her and Valiant's heads with an equal sign near them and put a question mark.

He is curious, are they, perhaps, a partners like Essie? Not necessarily in love, of course.

[ @ask-aeos-company ]

Shauna perked up as Indigo approached. She looked to his drawing, then at him; it took her a moment to realize it was a drawing of them.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna cheerfully sticking out her tongue with her eyes closed and holding the note in question. She's shown from the shins up and directly facing the viewer. Shauna's appearance is as described here. End ID ]

She looked again at the doodle in the sand.

She stared and stared... it would be another moment before it hit her.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna similar to the previous image. She's frowning slightly, looking somewhat wary and holding the note in question. End ID ]

Her eyes went wide. Her cheeks grew hot, and red. She already found the idea extremely overwhelming, and Indigo hadn't even confirmed if that's what he actually meant.

She whimpered a little. It was too soon.

She barely knew Valiant. She was still attached to the one she could not be with anymore.

ask-the-royal-absol asked: *The golden goomy slinkies up to Shauna, an eyebrow raised. His goofy grin ever present.* ???: Hey hey hey, what's good on this fine night? How are the vibes? Hope you're having a rad time. I know I certainly am. I need to check out the drinks. See what's being made, you know? Dunno if you've had any from the bar. Seems like they've got a most bodacious mix. I've got a little something to ask. That Pokémon you're hanging with. It sure is an interesting one. Definitely has some...vibes going on. What's his deal? And how did you two end up coming here together?

[ @ask-the-golden-goo ]

Her ears drooped. There was that word again. Together.

But they weren't together like that. They weren't... right?

Is that really how this looked to everyone else?

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna similar to the previous image. She's smiling with her eyes closed but with a strained expression, and holding the note in question. End ID ]

Shauna: [He's just quiet. Really. Just get to know him, and you'll see.]

She wasn't betraying them. She's not.

That's not what this was.

She and Valiant were just-

The sound of popping glass made her wince. It snapped her out of her train of thought, on one hand.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna similar to the previous image. She's gaping with fear. End ID ]

On the other hand, she'd soon see what really happened. She gasped, mortified.

The Goomy's pointy and stylish shades were thoroughly cracked; no doubt a result of her powers running amok again.

The pieces stayed together, miraculously.

Until they didn't, and gravity took over. The shards sprinkled to the ground.

Ask Hints have been updated.

[storiesfromafan]

Don't Do It - Mattheo Riddle x Reader

A/N: Just a under 1000 word one-shot 😊 And trying to break writers block, haha.

Prompt/s: Write a scene in a library where the characters must whisper or stay silent.

And,

“Dont do it” “But...”

Late afternoon, an hour since classes ended for the day. The library was reasonably busy, due to various groups of students at the tables studying for the next days tests in different classes. It was mostly silent, minus the soft whispers of the students to each other.

Sitting at one of those tables, your boyfriend at your side, you were the only two to have their own table. Which irked a fair amount of students, so every so often you would get dirty looks. Yet neither you or Mattheo cared. Not now, not ever.

You were currently reading over a book for potions. Your boyfriend at your side, chair close to yours. His arm was slung over the back of your chair, his hand playing with the ends of your hair which cascaded down your back. Every now and then Mattheo would lean in, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Making you smile or giggle. That also got some unkind looks from the other females in the room. As your dear boyfriend was one of the few sort after boys of Slytherin and Hogwarts.

While you weren’t really high up on the list of girls the boys wanted to snog. Though that never bothered you. You weren’t ugly or anything, you were quiet pretty. It’s just boys tended to go for the prettier, and sometimes easier girls. And you might ask why Mattheo chose you. You didn't fuss over him, or make goo-goo eyes at him. Sure, you thought he was cute, even had a small crush on him. But you kept a level head. And Mattheo liked that, as well as the challenge of getting you.

After he got you it just got better and better. Mattheo never got tired of you. If anything, he just liked you more, even loved you. And after getting to know the real Mattheo, you began to love him back. Separate, you were smart while he was a troublemaker. Together, you were yin and yang. You managed Mattheo's wild side, while he brought out the fire in you.

This looked to be one of those moments. For your boyfriend's attention wasn't on you so much any more, rather he was shooting daggers at the Golden Trio. To be fair they had been looking at you both, sour looks upon their faces. Not to mention whispering to themselves while looking to you both.

It was starting to get to you too, but you had more patience then Mattheo. You just knew he was itching to say something, or hex them. The way his hand on your back twitched told you his restraint was wavering. When he drew his hand from you, and hands hid under the table before you both, he had made his decision.

“Don't do it" you whispered, eyes still on the book before you.

“But...” he whispered back.

“I said, don't do it" you repeated, turning the page casually.

“It's just one small hex, love" Mattheo tried to reason.

You sighed, “one small hex will lead to detention, love" you mocked. “You can’t afford another detention. Or else no Quidditch for you".

Mattheo sat there silently. No doubt weighing up his options, hex and detention or play Quidditch. With a soft groan Mattheo pouted, slouching down in his chair. You looked at him from the corner of your eye. You found his childishness amusing. He wanted to hex those three so badly. But Quidditch was his escape.

Closing the book, you leant back in your chair with a small stretch. Shooting a dark look to the Golden Trio, you turned to face your boyfriend. Who had gone back to glaring at the three. You leant into him and placed a kiss to his cheek, before moving your lips to his ear.

“It's alright, love. You can get your payback on the Quidditch field" you whispered sweetly in his ear. “Wouldn't it be just dreadful if Potter was knocked out by a bludger, or hit with a Quaffle".

You moved back just enough to watch the dark smirk cross Mattheo's sinful lips. “Yes, love, just dreadful”. He then turned to place a linger kiss to your own cheek, making you laugh a little too loudly.

[theladyheroine]

🥞 Pancakes 🥞

Movie! Shadow x Platonic! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Cozy, Silly

Word Count: 1,503 words

⚠️ Warning: None, except little embarrassment

Summary: Hi guys! I got excited about my last Shadow fic so I wrote another one! The songs I used are this one & this one btw, but this fic is more casual than the previous one so it’s much shorter too. Inspired by when my Mom recently caught me dancing (lol).

I want to spend my life 

With a girl like you!

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba,

Faint words filtered through Shadow’s ears as his eyelids fluttered open. It took him a while to fully realize he was awake, but thankfully he didn’t feel too heavy. He rested for a minute before sitting up and scooting over to the bedside. 

It wasn’t very bright, surprisingly. He saw the blinds had been left open and the dark gray sky filtered over the room. Raindrops scattered across glass, making a rhythmic noise, but it felt nice. 

Till that time has come, 

That we might live as one!

Can I dance with you?

Perking up at the cool words, he shuffled his way towards the door and into the hallway. The sound grew louder before Shadow realized it was music playing, and a buttery smell accompanied it. 

Most of the lights were off since it wasn’t exactly dark out, but only one or two yellow lights shone above the kitchen stove. With you moving and swaying there in a very strange manner. Shadow would hardly call it dancing: you were just bobbing up and down, tossing your head and holding a spatula to your face. If he didn’t know you prior he would’ve thought you looked foolish. But you were his friend now, he wasn’t about to judge. 

Girl, why should it be 

That you don't notice me?

“Can I dance with you?— OhmygoshShadow!!"

You yelped loudly as you quickly jolted back, surprised— and embarrassed— to find Shadow standing behind you. Your spatula knocked into a bowl of pancake batter, sending a blob of beige-white goo down to the floor. 

“Ohshoot-sorry! I didn’t see you there bud!” 

“No, I should’ve said something.” 

You rushed to grab a paper towel and swipe the batter off your tiles, but Shadow beat you to it. 

“Nah, it’s all good! I should’ve been paying attention.” You chuckled and grabbed another one, soaking it under the sink then cleaned any excess mush. 

“Is that The Troggs playing?” Shadow asked, tossing the mess into the trash can. 

You quickly lowered the stove temperature and nodded, “Yup! They’re awesome huh! I love their songs.” 

You were about to scoop up some more batter, then paused for a minute. 

“Wait—You know The Troggs?!” You exclaimed, swinging your face back around. 

“Mmhmm,” Shadow nodded. “I’ve heard only one song, until now.”

You gave a mental “huh” before going back to your pancakes. Even hedgehogs had good taste in music. Who knew?

It had been a full month now since Shadow started living with you, and even without teleportation, he still had ways of surprising you.  

You were home all day since it was the weekend, but Shadow had spent most of his time in his room. He usually did; if you weren’t up and about neither was he. In a way, he was like your own little shadow. You never pressed what he did alone, but judging by his expression, he had just woken up from a nap. 

“What are you doing?” Shadow peered over the counter, quills twitching with curiosity.

“Just makin’ some pancakes. They’re a little crispy though.” 

You slid a slightly burnt piece onto a plate. The pretty golden circles stood in a short stack and gave off an amazing smell. You could see Shadow lean closer as his red eyes grew bigger. 

“They’re…pancakes?” He stated his words as if asking a question, but to himself. Which made you curious. 

“Yep! I know it’s weird having breakfast for lunch, but I wanted to make something different this time.” 

“Uh huh.” He drawled. “They smell nice.”

His brows scrunched up and down, spreading more confusion across his face as Shadow watched the pan sizzle. Pancakes seemed like such an alien concept to him, ironically. 

“Shadow?” You asked. “Have you ever had a pancake before?” 

He paused again, but shook his head. “No. Are they any good?”

“Uh–yes!! They’re delicious!” 

To say you were surprised was an understatement: how could he not know about pancakes? 

Until the realization hit you that he probably hasn’t even seen pancakes before. You didn’t know where Shadow came from, and have avoided mentioning it in the past. Even after you became friends. In all that time spent together, you hardly knew a thing about him. And he still seemed reluctant to share. 

Movement shook you from your daze as Shadow picked up your spatula, poking the goo in the bowl like a little kid. His story would have to wait for another day. Your top priority: showing him the best brunch ever. 

Life could be a dream! Life could be a dream!

Do do do do, SH-Boom!

Your phone quickly changed its tune as The Chords started playing. It couldn’t have picked a more perfect song. 

“Why don’t you give this a try Shadow!” You scooted the pan closer to him, turning off the heat and switching it to the other side. 

“Me?” He fumbled with the spatula. 

“Yea, why not! Don’t worry I’ll help you.” You gave a cheeky grin, “Besides, it’ll be fun to learn. Right?”

Shadow opened his mouth to reply, but shut it quickly. You had always made meals for him, or either helped him make them. Even when you were gone there’d always be something from the previous night, or wrapped up in plastic. 

But you had a point, he couldn’t rely on you for everything. Especially now. If he was going to stay, he’d have to start pulling his weight around. 

“Alright,” He tugged back his gloves and set himself behind the stove. “I’m ready.”

You poured a cup of batter into the pan. For such a serious character, he looked so adorable.

You two waited for a few minutes before you set your hand on his arm, helping him flip the pancake to the other side. It shifted a little, making tiny splatters, but the color was perfect. For the second one you let him do it himself, and it looked far better than the first.

Life could be a dream! SH-Boom!

If I could take you to a paradise up above,

SH-Boom! And tell me darling, 

“I’m the only one that you love!” You shimmied back and forth to the music as Shadow continued to pour and flip the batter. 

For a first timer he was doing incredibly well! Fast even; his pancakes came out looking far better than yours! To which Shadow claimed could only come natural to him. You shot a surprised look, but you were happy seeing him loosen up. After a little while, Shadow even joined in your silly dance moves. His shoes tapped along to the beat, and you could see his body bouncing as he mouthed the lyrics. You tried giving him a little bump of encouragement, til he stopped and looked at you strangely. 

“Wow!” You coughed, “You’re really getting the hang of this bud.” 

Shadow rolled his eyes but he kept smiling. “Thanks. This is..easier than I expected.” 

After a short while, you two had a full stack of pancakes. You quickly shut off the stove and tossed the bowl into the sink. Maneuvering the food to the countertop, you pulled out two little plates. You were about to grab the butter, but Shadow beat you once again. 

“Can I do it?” The container looked so small in his big hands. 

You nodded and found a plastic knife in the drawers. Leaving Shadow to butter the pancakes while you looked for the syrup. 

You came back from the pantry with a tall bottle in your hands, and to say Shadow was amazed was a clear understatement. The light in his eyes when the dark syrup trickled down the edible tower was enough to brighten any room. 

You two settled at the table, plates in hand. Meals were typically had together nowadays, but each time it felt different somehow. Shadow had come a long way, going from a worrisome little thing to a happy hedgehog! And you couldn’t be prouder.

“‘Kay bud, dig in!” You pushed your fork into the food and Shadow did the same, cutting it into bite sized pieces. 

Everything seemed normal, until after a few bites Shadow stopped. He just sat there, chewing, but his expression quickly changed. It wasn't confusion, more like—a blank expression? 

“Shadow?” You said through your food. “You doin’ okay there?”

Oh how you hoped he didn’t grab the burnt one.

In an instant, Shadow took a larger piece and shoved it in his mouth. He only half chewed before doing the same thing. He did this three more times and it took him about a minute to finish half the plate. 

Syrup coated his mouth, and he swallowed hard before speaking. “You were right. Pancakes are the superior choice.” 

That was all he said before stuffing his face again. 

“Yea-I-erm—yea! Well, I’m glad you like them!” 

You rushed over to sink and grabbed a cup of water. Thinking next time, you should just make eggs instead.

❣️—THE END—❣️