#at least I have much better bookshelves now

[heartowan]

★ WINTER VISITOR : red hood x reader!

( cuss words ) ──────────────── ★

* im not from america so i have absolutely nooo idea how much is -20°c in fahrenheit im sorry 😭 *

You used to enjoy winter so much more when you were a kid. The snow, the warm clothes, the atmosphere, your mom's hot chocolate... everything was so perfect back then. Now, though, you didn't like it as much.

Not because you grew up to be an insufferable grump, but things weren't as easy. At 9, you didn't have to walk on snowy streets from campus to work to your house in a -20°C weather. Freezing your ass used to be fun when it was voluntary.

But, fortunately, the holidays were already coming, so you wouldn't have any more classes during these few weeks, and you'd also get a few breaks from your job at the bookstore. Finally, some rest.

That's what you thought when you approached your porch, pulling out the keys to open the door in a practiced movement, but you stopped when your eyes caught a glimpse of something red. Then you walked a little closer, and you were able to make out the shape of someone sitting down with their legs stretched, hand cluching their side, a weird helmet on their head and a little cropped brown jacket... what a weird combination.

You knew that helmet, though. You lived in his area, after all.

"Can I help you?" Anyone, literally, anyone, would advise you to not speak to him and simply go find some place else to crash for the night until he went away. The thing is, you wouldn't listen anyway.

He raised his head in your direction, the white eyes of that creepy/fucking weird helmet staring at you, sizing you up and probably judging the fact that you were wearing green tights and red shoes. But, hey, who even was he to judge your style choices?

"Actually, yeah." He said, and even with the modulator distorting his voice, you could hear the hoarsness and the faint tireness. "I'm fucked up over here, I'm not sure I can walk anymore."

You furrowed your eyebrows at that and reached for the phone in your pocket. Carefully, you crouched down beside him and turned on the torch to be able to see his wound better. "Let me see." You said, urging him to take his hand away.

He revealed the wound to you, and God, it was nasty. A bloody and very bumpy gash started from the left side of his abdomen to a little bit before the height of his shoulder blade. Absolutely disgusting. Whoever did that was probably trying to split him in half.

"Oh, my God." You mumbled, your eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah." He added, nodding his head in understanding to your shock. "Can you at least let me in to... I don't know? Clean it up? It just starts bleeding more if I walk, and I don't wanna get an infection."

What kind of stupid fucking little dumbo would let a stranger dressed like that into their house, especially in Gotham?

"Yeah, come on in." You said, your eyebrows furrowing even more at your own brainlessness. They were almost knitted together like a unibrow.

★...

He sat down on your couch like his body weighted tons, and you noticed how his wound did an odd ripple movement. It just got weirder.

"I have a first aid kit in my bathroom." You said, stripping off your coat and your jacket. "I'll go get it. Do you need anything else?" He just shook his head, and you quickly disappeared into the little hallway.

Red Hood used this moment to look around your house, trying to distract himself from the pain and dizziness. He took in how your walls weren't white, but some kind of eggshell color and there was a green wall too, that one covered in framed paintings, pictures and many posters, as well as some hanging plants.

There were just so many plants. Your couch was more comfortable than his bad, and you had a fluffy mat at the center of the living room, between the couch and your bookshelves, which were full of books he could barely recognize in the dim light.

Oh, yes, the lamps. You had little lamps everywhere and one big lamp beside the couch, but they were all warm and barely even illuminated a thing. They made the room very cozy, though.It was so homey, and it looked like you. If he saw you randomly on the street and for some reason he decided to guess what your house looked like from the inside, that would be it. Maybe not as many lamps, but still.

"Okay, I'm back." You walked out of the little hall in hurried steps, a little red box in your hands. You kneeled close to him on the couch. "Fuck, the lights." You mumbled, and he though your annoyed tone was funny, so he smiled a little under his helmet.

After switching on the big, white light, you kneeled again and gently moved the ripped fabric of his shirt away from the cut. He was staining your couch with blood, but you decided not to care at that moment. With some gauze and saline solution, you cleaned the whole thing up, the sides, and what you could reach of the insides, then, you sprayed some antiseptic on it.

"This is disgusting, but I don't think you'll need stitches." You murmured, not looking at him. Your eyes were focused on the wound. "At least not on the whole thing."

"I can manage." It was all he said.

"I'm gonna patch it up so it isn't exposed." He simply nodded at that, and you started covering the extension of the gash with the little pieces of gauze you had, and then, you secured them with some adhesive tape. "All done."

He stayed there for at least forty minutes, and you noticed how he seemed to have fallen asleep at some point. Maybe he was too tired. You didn't care, but you let him rest anyway.

When he woke up from his nap, you had changed outfits into something more comfortable than the jeans you wore before. A pair of gray sweatpants and a very soft brown hoodie on top of your black Iron Man t-shirt.

"You want some tea?" You offered, looking down at him as he seemed to access the situation — probably forgot what the hell had happened for a second.

"Yeah... yeah. What is it?" He mumbled, his distorted voice sounding groggy. You smiled faintly at that.

"It's peach and ginger." You said. "I like it."

You poured a small amount of it in a little mug you had. It was one of your favorites, with little leaves painted all over it.

"I put honey on it, tastes better." You handed him the mug. And then it hit you... how the hell was he gonna drink the tea with that weird ass helmet on? "How do you- oh."

He shut you up when he removed the helmet after one little click at the back of it.

"You wear a mask under your helmet?" You arched one eyebrow, and he chuckled at your reaction.

"It's for the effect." He said and took a sip of the tea. "Very sweet."

You took a moment to look at the exposed parts of his face. He had a few scars all over it, a sharp jaw and slightly plumpy lips, which were rosy from drinking the tea. He also had flushed cheeks, probably from the cold and a seemingly straight nose. You couldn't really tell the shape from that distance.

"Thanks for taking care of that... and for te tea. And for letting me nap on your couch." He said, looking up at you.

His voice sounded so melodic now without the modulator. It was just slightly raspy, not absurdly deep, but not even a little bit high, and just so much more easy on the ears than you'd ever expect Red Hood's voice to be.

"You're leaving?" You asked in a slightly exasperated tone that surprised both of you and put your own mug down. "You sure you're gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry." He shook his head, waving his hand as if to say it wasn't a big deal. You just shrugged at that.

He put his mug down, it was almost empty. So he liked the tea. With his helmet in hand and walking a little more stable than before, he offered you a small smile before stepping over to your door.

"Bye." He murmured. "Thanks again."

You stood there after he left, in your living room, with the big light on, staring at the door. What an unusual night. Your eyes drifted back to the blood stain on your couch, and you groaned internally at the fact that you were the one that was gonna have to clean that.

That only reinforced your belief that vigilantes only brought more and more trouble.

☆

[waugh-bao]

You probably like poetry?

Guilty as charged, I’m afraid.

[orcelito]

So I rearranged my bookshelf a bit for fitting trigun on my shelf...

Top shelf is still my persona shelf. It's way too established to change that. But I moved my assorted other fav manga volumes to the bottom shelf, leaving room for This...

It didn't Quite fit all the way, but it's close enough. This shelf is composed of my three top favorite mangas of all time, which are Also the only 3 series that I own in totality. Specifically bc theyre my favorites & I care enough about them to want to own them all lol

It's... really really nice to see them all in one place like this.

And of course. The trigun ❤️ completely worth the money I spent on them.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen act with their bookworm s/o

requested by my dearest 🍒 anon!

masterlist

seungcheol

just. buys you everything you want. bookmarks, books, book signing tickets, bookshelves, hell he'll even build you your own library to house your books if that's what you want. he'd buy u anything you want anyway tbh, but he knows how much you love reading so his gift-giving tendencies have shifted towards the side of fully letting you indulge in your hobbies. what can he say? he likes seeing you happy. 

jeonghan

sometimes he'll just sit there and watch you read bc he thinks that you're just really cute. likes to watch all the different facial expressions you make whilst you're reading through different passages, and laughs when you give horrified gasps whenever the characters make terrible choices. gets bored whilst listening to you explain the plot, but Loves when you explain the drama to him like you're teenage girls gossiping over the latest drama

joshua

doesn't know how you have the time or patience to just sit there reading words for hours, but he supports your hobby for sure. sometimes when you're feeling down, he'll take you to the nearest bookstore and buys every single book you so much as hint at having an interest in. buys you handbags that are big enough for books to fit inside so when you two go out with others, you can bring ur emotional support book for when things get too boring 🫡

junhui

goes “ooh what are u reading???” when he catches you holding a new book. you tell him the title and the genre, but as soon as you begin explaining the plot, his eyes are glazing over and he's already clocked out of the conversation. he tries his best to listen, he really does!!! but he supposes it just isn't for him :(( watches the movie adaptations w you if there is one tho and let's you rant about the deviations the directors made from the novel

hoshi

gets insanelyyyy jealous when you find a new fictional character to fixate and fawn over bc like, hello???? your boyfriend is literally right here????? why are you crying over some character that doesn't exist????? but then you argue that you put up with his tiger agenda so he can at least put up with this. doesn't like reading the books, but loves you explaining it aloud to him, hand gestures and all. he thinks it's really cute. 

wonwoo

entertains all your theories about the lore and character backstories of the novels you've been reading lately. you could look like that one guy in the corkboard meme with the red string and he'll just smile indulgently and ask you to tell him more. he's bought you about 70% of all the books you own, and he's not stopping any time soon. he'll stop when you run out of books to read, probably. and by the looks of it, that's not happening any time soon.

woozi

absolutely loves all those fantasy/ dystopian kinds of books the most. at first he was like “:// no thanks i have work” when you first asked him to read some books but now he likes reading them in his free time bc he gets to discuss lore with you in the evenings. likes watching the movie adaptations if they exist, bc then you both get to either applaud the accurate adaptation or complain loudly at the horrible inaccuracies that distort the plot beyond repair

minghao

forces you to take rest breaks every now and then when you're going on a whole reading binge bc it is Not good for your eyesight okay and he worries about you >:((( brews theeee best tea of all time for u and he'll sit down next to you in bed with his own book as you both read throughout the rest of the day. those are the best kinds of days, tbh. nothing gets better than sitting next to the person you love most and doing the thing you love most too

mingyu

he's the type to watch you with soppy eyes as you're reading your book beside him in bed. raises an eyebrow at you fondly when you finally finished, the “how was it?” clear in his eyes, and he just laughs delightedly when you simply explode with all the pent-up emotions as you rant to him about the ending and all the drama and tension that went on in the lead-up to it. loves that you're so passionate about your books. thinks it's super endearing. 

dokyeom

asks for book recs every. single. month. then adds them to his list before promptly forgetting about them and asks for recs again. thinks that everything you read sounds like theee most interesting thing in the world which is why he's always asking for the titles, but he's just always so busy you know?? he did somehow actually read ‘the song of achilles’ bc of your rec, however, and cried over it for 2 days straight

seungkwan

likes to have, like. a mini book club between the two of you where you both read the same book bc then he gets to fully understand your rants and also bc he actually gets kind of invested??? his favourite genres are those modern slice-of-life ones bc then he gets to trash talk with you about all the bad decisions the characters are making in their lives

vernon

you read books, he plays games. the both of you can sit together in complete silence and be utterly content, and the arrangement works for you both. (seungkwan thinks you guys are crazy for just being able to sit there with your respective hobbies and Not Talk.) he bought you a kindle for christmas which turned out to be the best present ever bc now you never go anywhere without it. you thank him for it at least 3 times a day. 

chan

thinks your love of books is one of your biggest charms. he met you on the train where he made the mistake of asking what book you were reading and ended up sitting through a 25 minute explanation and missing his stop, but it was okay bc he liked hearing you talk and ended the day with your number in his phone, so he counted it as a win. definitely a win in his opinion bc now he gets to listen to your book explanations as your boyfriend <3

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reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @kikohao @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @sea-moon-star @nonononranghaee @isabellah29 @mcu-incorrect @hrts4hanniehae @suraandsugar @pan-de-seungcheol @dokyeomkyeom @melodicrabbit @bananabubble

[4unnyr0se]

❥ librarian | chuuya nakahara

warnings: fem! reader, meet cute, chuuya is a flirt bc i said so, wined and dined, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, bedroom sex, hickeys, making out, hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, rough sex, whiny chuuya, corruption kink(?), reader does not know how to dress to save her life, sugar daddy(?) chuuya, unironic lip biting, chuuya is one hell of a chef, dirty talk, reader reads smut, semi-proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word court -> 4.7k

“Excuse me, could you keep your voice down, please? It’s a library…” was something that you said more often than you would like to admit. Sure, you only took the library job because of how insanely introverted you were, but that was neither here nor there. You thought that people would have more respect for a place that let you borrow as many books as you wanted, but nope. It was either filled with screaming children, teenagers kissing in the nonfiction section, or the elderly who didn’t know how to open their email accounts, bless them.

Other than the constant shushing (and the resulting glares you get from people you’ve shushed), the library job was nice. It was comforting, it had decent pay, and you got to keep some of the books that no one wanted to check out anymore. Hell, you even got hit on once or twice by freakishly tall men. Then again, all men were freakishly tall in your eyes. You fit the tiny librarian stereotype quite well, which your fellow librarians found to be adorable. 

Standing in the true crime section, your heeled feet stood on a step stool so you could better organize books about mafia activity in past decades. It wasn’t a very popular section by any means, mostly because the locals that frequented the library thought that true crime a was bit too niche. You didn’t mind really, it just meant that you got to be on the opposite side of the building and away from the screaming children. Often you wondered what it would be like to be a witness to a mafia hit, how the adrenaline pumping in your veins would make you feel. Lost in your train of thought, you neglected to notice that you were slowly slipping off of the step stool, the backings of your high heels teetering off the edge. It wasn’t a steep drop by any means but it would hurt pretty damn badly if you fell. 

Taking an ignorant step back, the back of your heel found nothing to land on. Yelping slightly, you spread your arms out and waved them back and forth in what was probably the world's weakest attempt at flying. “Oh shit-” you closed your eyes shut and braced for impact, hoping that you wouldn’t land on the sharp metal bookshelves behind you.

The impact never came. Instead, you felt a warm embrace of someone holding you. You opened up one eye carefully, your baby hairs covering your forehead. 

“Hey, you okay?” A deep and raspy voice snapped both of your eyes open, your gaze landing on a head of ginger hair. The man smirked at you and let you down, making sure you didn’t have any scratches by scanning your body up and down. Or maybe he was checking you out, who knows?

“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll be fine.” You nodded, dusting off your pants. No scuffs on the expensive fabric, thank God. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t hit my head, by the way. Not everyone would do that.”

The man crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, giving you a questioning look. “You must work with some real assholes then. In my line of work, ladies don’t get treated like crap. At least the ones who everyone respects.”

“Seriously? Damn, that seems like a really good job.” You smiled at him, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“Eh…it has some setbacks. I won’t get into it now, too much bullshit to unpack here.” He bit the inside of his cheek, holding out his hand for you to shake. It was gloved, he seemed like a gentleman. Or maybe he just really didn’t like getting dirt on his hands.

You smiled and eagerly took his hand, looking into his subtly blue eyes. They really complimented his ginger hair and pale complexion, hell, he even looked like the main character in a popular romance novel. 

“Chuuya Nakahara, at your service.” He smirked once more, letting go of your hand. He noticed that your hands were smaller than his own, in fact, you were actually smaller than he was. And that was rare, considering he was in close competition with most middle schoolers in the height category. “What’s your name? I wanna know the name of the women I saved from eating absolute shit.”

You giggled and told him your name, putting your hands in your pockets. Chuuya thought your giggle was sweet, like a song bird. It was a welcome sound in his life. After all, Chuuya was used to gunshots and screams instead of the giggling of a cute librarian with a name that fitted her oh so right. 

“You got a cute name, y’know. Hope you don’t mind me sayin’ that.” Chuuya placed his hands in his pockets as well, fiddling with the lintballs in the corners of the expensive fabric. 

The silent was quite awkward between the two of you. Chuuya, a secret mafia boss who’s experience with women was tainted with expensive red wine. And yourself, a librarian who was so introverted that the world could end and you’d jump for joy. 

And yet, something brought the two of you out of your own little worlds and into each others? Was it love, perhaps? Unlikely. Chuuya thought that love at first sight was for suckers, and you thought that love at first sight only existed in movies.

No, there was only unspoken desires between you both. Heart rates quickening, blushes forming on your faces. Chuuya’s mind was racing, his thoughts plagued by images of you. He just met you but god were you sexy. That fucking thrifted turtleneck sweater contrasted hard with your expensive designer jeans that were no doubt a Christmas gift from a wealthy relative. You had no idea how to dress and Chuuya thought that was the most precious thing. Were you really that innocent, locked away in your own little world? You probably had no idea that your sweater hugged the curves of your tits perfectly, that your pants showed off your thighs so expertly. God, it drove Chuuya wild.

What did your lips feel like, so plump and perfect? Where they untained, fresh as snow? Or were you just putting on an act, secretly a vixen behind that innocent and soft stare? Chuuya didn’t know, but he just had to find out. The redhead had only just met you but holy fuck, you were simply perfect. He had to get a taste, even if it was the last thing he did. 

“So what’s a pretty thing like you workin’ in a place like this? Do they pay you well or somethin’?” Chuuya asked, leaning against the metal shelving that held the American history collection.

You shook your head and sighed, placing a hand on your hip in frustration. “Unfortunately no, I could really use a raise.” You sighed, running a hand through your comically messy hair. “The only reason I can afford my apartment is that my parents left me quite a bit of money when I said I wanted to live on my own. I’m a lucky person, I guess.” You chuckled at the last bit, flashing Chuuya a smile that drove him crazy. He faked a cough to hide the obvious lump growing in his throat, a tinge of pink dusting his freckled face. 

“Yeah, you really are lucky.” He took a step foreward, placing his thumb on your chin, tilting your head up ever so slightly so his eyes met your own. “And you’re really fucking pretty.” He whispered, taking his hand off your chin. 

“O-oh, thank you.” You stammered, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked down at your feet. The Mary Jane’s you wore wree slightly scuffed, they always have been. It adds a bit of character, one could say. Chuuya smiled softly and adjusted his hat, taking a step back to give you space.

“Listen, I have work that I gotta get back to or else my boss will kill me. Can we meet up at your place after that. Y’know, only if ya want to. I’m no pusher.” He blushed at the last part, rubbing the back of his neck to avoid making direct eye contact with you. It was strange, Chuuya has always been smooth with the women he met in bars. So why were you making him so flustered? Maybe it was because unlike the girls he picked up before, you were innocent. Pure, like fresh snow. 

You were taken aback by his flirtations, though they weren’t unwelcome. You stopped fidgeting with your fingers for a moment, biting down on the plumpness of your lower lip.

“What, cat got your tongue or something?” Chuuya grinned, proud of himself for his little joke.

N-no, well not exactly.” You mumbled, sucking in a deep breath so you could look at the devilishly handsome man in front of you. “I’ve, God this is embarrassing, I haven’t been on a date since college.” Sighing, you stared at the bookshelf next to you. “It’s pathetic, I know. I get if you aren’t interested in me anymore.”

Chuuya frowned and took his hands out of his pockets, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t give a fuck if you’ve been on zero dates or a million of them. That doesn’t matter. I asked if you wanted me to come over so I can fuckin’ cook for you.”

“You can cook?”

“What kind of world are you living in? Of course I cook, what kind of man can’t cook?” Chuuya pinched his temple with his fingers, silently cursing all the worlds incompetent men that drove the standard to decency so low that it was practically in hell. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout at ya. Old habits.”

“Don’t worry about it, I deal with screaming children all day. You’re fine.” You smile, taking out your phone. “Here, put your number in and I’ll give you my address.”

Chuuya shook his head, a bead of sweat dripping from his brow. “Actually, um, my phone is broken right now. How about you just write it down for me, dollface?” He couldn’t risk putting your information into his phone, what if Mori was going through it? He could deem you a security risk and then only God knows what would happen. Chuuya wouldn’t risk it, he had to make sure you were okay with his…business before he did anything too personal like give you his contact information. 

“Oh, sure. I guess giving you my number is too personal, sorry.” You awkwardly chuckled, leading him to the main library desk. You ripped off a sticky note from the pad and wrote down your address in pretty cursive letters. Chuuya smiled to himself as he saw your handwriting, it was the cutest fucking thing. You were absolutely a librarian, no doubt about it.

“So, see you at seven?” He asked, shoving the sticky note into his jacket pocket.

“Seven’s all right. What will you be making me?” You asked, beginning to type away at the library computer.

“It’s a surprise.” Chuuya winked at you, turning around and walking away. You blushed and resting your cheek on your hand. In your mind you were dancing in happiness, finally having landed a date. And such a good looking one at that. Who the hell cares if he’s short, he’s tall to you. Height doesn’t matter anyways.

Your shift ended and you practically skipped out of the library building, clutching onto the messenger bag that carried your erotic novels. The library didn’t carry anything erotic, you just disguisted the books with false covers about local history and lore. No one would be into that shit, so it was the perfect plan. The stories consisted of fantasy romances with sections that were so arousing that you couldn’t read it without thinking that you were committing some sort of sin. 

Stepping up the stairs to your apartment, you opened the door and shut it quickly as to not attract any unwanted pests. Mostly bugs, they’ve become a real problem. What would Chuuya think if he saw a bug in your apartment? Your mind was speeding, anxiety building up in your belly. This was your first date in a while, what if you fuck it up somehow? Or worse, what if it goes too well and he wanted to have his way with you. Chuuya was too handsome to refuse sure, but what about you? You couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex, let alone kissed somebody? Oh God, what if that turned him off and he never spoke to you again?

“Dammit, snap out of it!” You slapped yourself across the face, hissing slightly at the pain. Putting yourself together, you strode over to your bedroom and pulled out a dress from way back in your closet. It was a decent length dress with spaghetti straps, your fanciest piece of clothing. The rest of your wardrobe consisted of sweatpants, tank tops with cartoon characters on it, the occasional designer jean, and several thrifted sweaters that had absolutely been worn by a grandfather. 

The dress slipped onto you no problem, like a glove. You didn’t bother wearing any tights or stockings, the dress covered your legs up nicely. You decided to just leave your hair as it was, draped nicely around your shoulders. Light makeup here and there, if you could count mascara and lipgloss as makeup.

Exiting your bedroom, your hands dropped to their sids as you sat down on your living room sofa. There wasn’t anything good on the TV, and reading an erotic novel before Chuuya got there would have probably ruined the mood for you. Was getting ready too early a mistake? Maybe.

Your eyes watched the clock, your pupils going in circles as the second hand made its rotation over and over again until it was about 6:55PM. A knock was heard at your door, snapping you out of the cycle of clock-looking. 

Squealing quietly, you speed-walked over to your door. Taking a deep breath in, you opened the door and there Chuuya stood, holding a bag of groceries in one hand and a singular red rose in the other. “Hey there pretty girl, mind if I come in?”

“O-of course, Chuuya. Uh, sorry.” You stammered, shutting the door as he let himself inside. Chuuya stood in the foyer of your apartment for a moment, quickly noticiny the hundreds of books the lined the shelves. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised doll, shoulda known you’re a huge nerd.” He chuckled, handing you the rose. His outfit was not too different from that afternoon, only the hat and the jacket were missing.

“Thank you, it’s really pretty.” You blushed, placing the rose in a nearby empty vase. “So, um, what are you making me tonight? I’m starving.” You led him into the kitchen, helping him set down the groceries on the counter.

“Kobe beef,” Chuuya said nonchalantly, looking around the kitchen. “Where are your knives? Don’t see em anywhere.”

“In that drawer right there- did you saya kobe beef?” You gasped, taking a step back. “B-but that’s really expensive! This is just a first date y’know, I would have accepted take out!” You stammered, not used to the treatment. Did he really just buy kobe beef for you? How much does he get paid?

“Yeah, what about it? You a vegetarian or something?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow, opening the beef from its luxurious packaging and placing it on the simple wooden cutting board. 

“No, it’s just that…well kobe is really expensive and this is a first date! It’s not even at the nice restaurant or anything, it’s my fucking house!” You whisper-yelled at him, walking foreward so your face was inches away from your own. Your shyness was replaced with anxiety, anxiety that you really had no excuse to have.

Chuuya smiled and patted you on the head, rubbing on your hair with his gloved hand. “Don’t worry about that princess, just have a seat and let me cook for you, yeah?” He assured you, gesturing to your kitchen table. “And besides, you’re dressed up like a five course meal, so shouldn’t you be treated to one?” He smirked, finishing up the chopping of the beef. He figured out how to work your stove pretty quickly, placing the beef in a pan with a little bit of truffle oil. The stove roared to life as the beef began to quickly sizzle, a wonderful aroma that smelled like luxury filled your apartment.

You blushed at Chuuya’s comment, sitting yourself down in the chair. You watched him cook, his brows furrowed in concentration.

The beef was done cooking after a bit, being carefully plated with an array of incredibly looking vegetables. Chuuya sat across from you and took your hand in his own, kissing the back of yours tenderly.

“Bon appetit, princess.” He grinned at you, his eyes hiding a lust that was so extreme Asmodeous himself was jealous. He observed how you ate the beef so carefully, so tenderly. You savored each and every bite, sighing occasionally as the flavors hit your tongue over and over again. Chuuya bit his lip as he watched you eat, barely touching his own dinner. You looked absoltuely succulent in front of him, oblivious to how you were making him feel. Chuuya wanted to shove everything off the table and fuck you right then and there, but he decided to be a gentlemen about it. Dine you, maybe wine you, and only touch your pretty body if you wanted him too. 

You finished your meal quickly, frowning to yourself at Chuuya’s full plate. “Are you not hungry or something?” You asked, ignoring the bits of beef resting at the corner of your mouth. 

“I’m hungry for…something else.” Chuuya smirked, grabbing your dirty plate and placing it in the sink. He stepped over to you and took your hand, hoisting you up from your chair. Carefully, his arm wrapped around your waist so he could pull you in closer to his own form, his fingers running up and down your hip bone. “If you know what I mean.”

You blushed and slowly nodded your head, noticing how his perfect blue eyes seemed to have fireballs igniting within the azure pools. “I…I do. I just…I haven’t had sex in a while. Kind of goes hand-in-hand with the whole dating thing.” You awkwardly laughed to yourself, hoping a joke would lighten the tension.

“I could change that for you dollface, if you want me to.” Chuuya purred, tilting your chin up to his lips were just hovering above yours. “Just say the word sweetheart, and I’ll make you see stars.” He whispered, his hot breath touching your trembling lips.

You thought for a moment, your mouth still agape at Chuuya’s boldness. “...okay.” You breathed against his lips, mere centimeters away.

With your consent, Chuuya crashed his lips against yours. With one hand clutching ont your waist, the other cupped your face quite gently. His kiss was rough and passionate, groaning into your mouth at the sensation that he had so long been craving.

Your hands flew to grab onto his hair, tugging at the longer part. Chuuya moaned slightly at the sensation, squeezing the fabric of your dress. He pulled himself away slowly, choosing to instead attack the delicate flesh of your neck. His lips found your sweetspot and sucked harshly, your lips producing the cutest little moans which only made his cock harder. A bright purple hickey formed in no time at all, definitely going to last a few days. 

“You wear turtlenecks, right? Shouldn’t be a fuckin’ problem then.” He growled against your neck, trialing molten kissed down until he reached your collarbone, playfully licking it.

“M-maybe we should go to the bedroom? Comfier.” You managed to squeak out, softly moaning as Chuuya continued to nip and kiss at your collarbone. He pulled away, grumbling at the loss of contact.

“Good idea dollface, smart.” He lifted you up bridal style, chuckling as you squealed. “You’re so fuckin’ adorable baby, y’know that?” He asked, kicking open the door to your bedroom. He practically threw you onto the bed and pounced, pinning your wrists above your head quickly. Chuuya slammed his lips against yours once more, shoving his tongue down your throat as your teeth clashed for dominance. 

Taking a break from the onslaught of tongue-on-tongue, Chuuya gently stroked your face with his still-gloved hand. “Fucking good mouth you got, sweetheart.” He purred, shifting himself so he was looking at your hips. “Now tell me,” His hand reached to his mouth, peeling off his gloves with his teeth. “Do you want my fingers or my tongue first, princess?”

You gulped nervously, your face feeling like it was going to explode at any moment from how fucking horny you were for this man. Your legs were practically shaking under him, how was it possible that one man could make you feel euphoria without fucking you?

“B-both, please…” You whispered, not daring to look into his aflamed blue eyes that burned for you. Your aroused pooled in your belly, just waiting to be taken care of.

Chuuya nodded approvingly, lifting your dress up to reveal your panties that were soaked in your arousal. “Fuckin’ dirty girl, so perfect for me.” He whispered, hastily removing your panties and tossing them into some corner of your bedroom. He shivered at the sight of your glistening core, admiring how otherworldly it looked in the dim lights of your bedroom.

“Shit,” Chuuya groaned, gathering some of your slick on his fingertips before carefully inserting his index and middle finger inside of your sobbing cunt. He wasted no time in curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting them back and forth swiftly.

“Oh fuck, oh my God!” You cried out, throwing your head back even further into the soft pillows beneath you. Your legs wanted so badly to wrap around his hand, trapping him there for a while. 

“That’s it baby, scream for me. Fuckin’ scream for me princess.” He growled, his lips sucking on your clit roughly. His tongue lapped and sucked at your desperate folds, fingers pumping in and out of you like he was in a competition. He could feel your walls sucking him in, knowing your orgasm was close. 

“Fucking cum for me baby, lemem hear those pretty moans of yours!” Chuuya demanded, eating you out like a starved man.

“Oh fuck, Chuuya!” You screamed out his name as your orgasm finally hit, the knot in your belly becoming undone too fast for your own liking. You wish that moment could last forever instead of mere moments. 

Gasping and panting, you propped yourself up by your elbows to be greeted with a chuckling Chuuya, licking off your cum with his expert tongue. “You taste so much better than anything I’ve ever fucking had before princess.” He spoke, his voice low and sultry.

Chuuya briefly got off the bed to take off his pants and boxers, gasping as the air of your bedroom hit his throbbing cock. He relished in your shocked expression, your mouth left hanging wide open at the sight of him.

“What, never seen a big dick before?” He chuckled, getting on top of you once more. He lifted your legs up so they rested on his shoulders, giving him the most perfect angle to fuck you seneless. 

“Not in a while, no.” You retorted, offering Chuuya a smirk of your own. That one simple movement of your facial muscle was all it took for him to align his cock with your entrance, slamming it inside of you.

“That was so fucking hot babe, do it again.” He demanded, pounding himself into your core without giving you any time to adjust to his length or girth. His hands gripped the undersides of your thighs, occasionally smacking the subble skin.

“Ngh, h-holy fuck! Chuuya, shit! So fucking big, oh my fucking God!” You cried out, your hands making desperate motions to grab onto anything. Chuuya bent down, pushing you into a mating press so he could better hold your hand.

“Shit, fucking scream my name babygirl. Fuck, you’re squeezing on to me so damn tight!” He groaned into your ear, his balls snapping against your ass over and over again. Your cheeks were flushed, mouth gaping open. All that left your lips were wanton moans and cries of pleasure as Chuuya’s cock hit your G-spot over and over again, the pleasure once again pooling in your belly.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, I’m close! Chuuya, fuck!” You screamed, slamming your lips upwards onto his own. He happily accepted the kiss, biting down onto your lower lip as he felt your cunt contract around his soaked cock.

“Fuck, can you hold out just a little longer baby? Wan’ cum with you, yeah?” He whined against your lips, furiously meeting his hips with your own as the scent of sex and longing filled the bedroom. 

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” You cried into his ear, not sure how much longer you could stand to not fall into your orgasm.

He growled against your neck, his thrusts becoming staggered and desperate in a relentless tempo as Chuuya’s own orgasm approached him. “Shit, gonna fucking cum. Cum with me yeah, please fucking come with me!”

A silent scream left your lips as euphoria enveloped your body, wave after wave of ecstasy hitting you as your orgasm finally came. Your arousal squeezed and coated Chuuya’s cock, sending him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my God! Fuck…” He gapsed into your neck, his ministrations slowing down until they came to a complete stop. He collapsed onto you, lazily kissing your neck and the hickeys that covered it. 

You smiled, peeling the sweaty hairs away from your face as you embraced Chuuya in your arms. “That was…just like the books I read.” You chuckled, running your fingers through his mess of red hair. “Almost exactly like those books, actually.”

Chuuya looked up from your breast and raised an eyebrow, flipping you around so you were now embraced in his arms. “You read porn?”

You nodded, gesturing to your nightstand. “Yeah, I try to keep it a secret though. My coworkers would never let me live it down if they knew the truth.” You gave him a crooked smile, curling further into his chest. 

He nodded in understanding, kissing your forehead. “Well, we gotta do this again princess. Because that was…well it was fuckin’ amazing. Who knew the cute little librarian was so dirty?” He joked, poking your cheek teasingly.

“I literally just let you finish inside of me and you’re making jokes?”

“Hey, I’m allowed to be funny. I’m a fuckin’ sex god.”

You sighed and kissed his lips, feeling your eyes grow heavy with sleep. “Y’know, I don’t have work tomorrow if you wanted to stay the night…” You yawned, embracing the feeling of coziness and warmth.

Chuuya was a bit shocked by your words at first, smacking his lips together. He smiled down at you, ruffling up your nest of a hair that was no doubt caused by his body moving against yours for a good twenty minutes. “I’d really like that, princess.” He assured you, grabbing his phone from your nightstand to type something in. “Just lettin’ my boss know I’ll be late for my assignment tomorrow.”

“What if he gets mad at you?” You asked, your sleepy voice filled with just a pinch of concern. 

“Well, he can suck my dick for all I care. Although, I’d much rather have you do that.” He winked, throwing the covers above your sweaty forms. “So, are you going to get changed or are we sleeping in our date night clothes?”

“Mm, date night clothes. I don’t think I’ll be able to fucking walk after what you did to me.” You laughed, pulling Chuuya closer. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through the expensive shirt he wore. “Have sweet dreams, okay? And…pleae be here when I wake up tomorrow.” You whispered the last part before drifting off, the cutest little snore escaping from your parted lips.

Chuuya sighed and kissed the top of your head, admiring how innocent you looked in your slumber. “I promise beautiful, I’m not going anywhere.”

[frantic-fiction]

Reunions

(Pic: lovelybluebirdie) I cropped it a bit

Astarion x gn!reader, Astarion x reincarnated!Tav

Summary: A few months after reconnecting to your past life as Tav, a party is set to meet the rest of the group. You're nervous, worried about not living up to who you once were. Will you be enough?

This is a little part 2 of I'll Find My Way Back to You

Notes/ Warning: Pretty much just fluff. Reader is insecure. Astarion is a supportive partner. I kept all 6 origin characters alive because it's my story and I don't want to imagine any of them dead. Also, Halsin's here cause druids live to be like a thousand or whatever.

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

You're not panicking. Why would you be? It's not like you're meeting a group of people you've only met in dreams—a group of strangers you've painted for the better part of your existence- a family forged through hardship from a past life you're still trying to remember fully.

No, you're not panicking. You're not scared that the people who are so excited to see you will not like what they see. You're not terrified the family Astarion has helped you remember will look at you disappointed once they realize you are no longer the Tav they once knew. You're not worried at all. Not. One. Bit.

You spent the afternoon cleaning the house from top to bottom. It was sparkling, and your fingers ached from the hours of scrubbing you filled in the restless day with. No surface was left untouched. Bookshelves were dusted, baseboards were spotless, and even the top of the cupboards, where no one would ever see, were wiped down. The floors were swept and mopped three times now, but you keep finding spots you missed. Astarion even physically stopped you from scaling the roof to clean the chimney when you ran out of things to occupy yourself with.

There's a roast in the oven, potatoes, and veggies cooking alongside it, and a pie cooling on the counter. You wanted to cook more, but you were worried that not everyone would like blueberries or that someone had turned to a plant-based diet. Astarion quickly reminded you that they used to eat food out of dusty barrels and mildewed chests.

Currently, you stand in front of your floor-length mirror. Astarion is out on a quick hunt before the party arrives, leaving you to obsess over your thoughts of inadequacy. The majority of your closet littered the floor. You're scrutinizing a simple tunic and legging combo. Was it too simple? Should you wear something more eye-catching?

You're trying to remember what Tav would have worn. All you can recall is blood-stained armor and simple camp clothes. But this occasion garners something more. Fuck. Stripping off the current outfit, you replace it with an almost identical one and look at yourself in the mirror again. You weren't sure what you expected, maybe to magically love this pair of pants and old tunic. But in reality, you were just as frustrated and worried.

The clothes weren't the problem, you knew that, but it was easier to be pissed at a blouse than to accept that you were scared. You were frightened to face Astarion and Tav's friends. You have Tav's memories and feel an odd kinship with these people. But you weren't Tav, and you would never be them, at least not entirely.

You felt like an imposter to try and convince anyone otherwise. Tears of frustration and disappointment in yourself began to trail down your cheeks. How could a silly artist hold a candle to the kind and heroic savior of Baldur's Gate? You glared at yourself, wishing things could have been different.

You jump when you feel cold arms wrap around your torso and a warm kiss at the nape of your neck. Astarion loved to use his lack of reflection to sneak up on you. You, on the other hand, hated it. Still, you found yourself leaning back into his firm chest.

"Hello, my love,"

You try to stop the pathetic sniffle, but it's useless. Astarion turns you in his arms and cups your jaw. "Darling," is all he says because he knows. Of course, he knows.

That simple pet name causes the floodgates to open, and you crumple into Astarion's chest, nuzzling his neck. He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. Astarion lets you cry, knowing how nervous you've been for this meetup.

He rubs soft circles on the small of your back and peppers kisses to the crown of your head. "You can talk to me,"

"W-what if they don't li-like me?"

Astarion moves you both to the bed, skirting around the mess you made. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap to look you in the eyes better. "Why wouldn't they love you?" He prompts, not wanting to push you.

"Star, you know why. I'm not Tav," you hiccup, and you're positive the words you're speaking are incoherent. "I have their memories and some of their mannerisms and…and I'm also allergic to bees, but I'm not them. What if they hate me because I'm not Tav."

Astarion pecks your lips to halt your panicked words. He wipes the tears from your damp face. "No, you are not Tav, but they are part of you. They live in your art, laugh, and kind heart."

"But wha-"

"Let me finish, my love," Astarion smiles, brushing some hair behind your ear. "No one expects you to be Tav. We all love them deeply, but Tav's gone." He swallows hard, the words still hard to voice for him.

Astarion kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and continues to pepper kisses over your face, catching stray tears. "They just want to get to know the beautiful artist I fell in love with. Gale's big mouth might have let them know more about our history than I would have liked, but that doesn't change anything."

"And if they don't like the person you fell in love with?" You ask softly.

"Then fuck all of them. I love you, and if they don't love you as well, then they have no place in my life." His eyes pierce deep into yours, and there's no denying the truth of his words. You are overcome with a wave of love for your vampire and kiss him softly once more. "Now come, my love, by the smell, your roast is done."

"Shit!" You jump off his lap and rush out of the room, self-doubt pushed to the side.

*

The roast is fine if slightly burnt on the top. It looked juicy and smelled amazing. The vegetables are mush, but the potatoes are tender and seasoned well. It's not your best meal, but there's nothing you can do to fix it now. You left it on the counter to rest and found Astarion in the living room.

He was rehanging one of your paintings- the one you drew late last year after waking up in a cold sweat. It was a complete picture of the party standing on a dock overlooking the Grey Harbor just as the sun rose above the horizon. Astarion helps you fill in the gaps, telling you that this followed the fall of the Absolute.

"What are you doing?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the wall. You had hidden away most of your art, too embarrassed by the sheer number of canvases depicting the guest due here any minute.

Astarion finishes hanging the painting above the fireplace and turns to you. "I liked this one and thought I'd put it back."

Before you could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Your stomach instantly dropped, and your heart beat hard in your chest. As if sensing your rising anxiety, Astarion moved to your side, his large palm finding the small of your back.

He swiftly kisses your cheek. "One word and I'll throw them all out."

Astarion leaves you and walks to answer the door. Your palms are sweating, and you rub them down your thighs. You take a few deep breaths and pace the room. Not knowing what else to do, you idly fluff up the decorative pillows of the couch and stall.

"Pull yourself together." You mumbled under your breath. You hear the sounds of multiple footsteps, and you know they're all here.

Why did Astarion request for them to arrive all at once? You're still not sure. But you're suddenly very pissed at him for his decision. Having all of them looking upon you like an art exhibit terrifies you.

"My dear," Astarion pokes his head into the room, a warm smile adorning his sharp features. "Would you like to meet our guest?"

You swallowed hard and nodded. Putting on a brave smile, you rounded the couch and reached for Astarion's hand. Threading his fingers with yours, you curled around his arm like a lifeline.

Moving out into the foyer, you shyly look at the group before you. Gale, given the circumstances of your and Astarion's meeting, you had already met. He had relentlessly bothered Astarion until an introduction was made between you and the wizard. But you've only seen the others in the paintings you've made and the dreams you've seen.

Karlach bounced on her feet, Wyll smiling brightly behind her left shoulder. Haslin stood by the door, a beautifully sculpted wooden bear in his arms. Shadowheart stood beside him, her face passive but relaxed and almost pleased. Lae'zel was the farthest from the group, brooding in the corner, looking at you suspiciously. Still, she even loosened her tense shoulders and stepped forward upon your entry.

"Um, hi." You waved meekly, giving them your name, cringing when your voice cracked.

It's quiet for a moment too long, and you're a step away from fleeing when Karlach skips over to you.

"Can I hug you?!" She almost yells, shaking her fists excitedly.

"Karlach!" Astarion scolds. The Tiefling had, by the looks of it, broken a rule he had set for your comfort.

"Sorry, sorry." Karlach's smile fades, and she moves to retreat. Your heart clenches, and it's like your body moves on instinct. You detach from Astarion before you can think, and then your arms are around her waist. Her scalding heat seeps into your bones and listen to the cranks of her engine.

"Hi Karlach," you whispered into her torso. The wind squeezed from your body, and your feet were off the ground.

"It's nice to finally meet you! The letters fangs write didn't do you justice."

Quickly, the group connects like magnets. Wyll crowds in and hugs you from behind, pressing you closer to Karlach. Gale piles on after, then Halsin. Shadowheart nudges her way between the men and apologizes on behalf of everyone but gives you an equally tight squeeze. The group even wrangles Astarion and Lae'zel into this group hug.

These people are supposed to be strangers, but having them close, seeing this family you've watched through someone else's memories for most of your life right before you. It fills you with familiar warmth and affection and has tears of joy in your eyes. You might not be Tav, not entirely, but you still have a place in this little family.

"Um…excuse me, I can't breathe." You squeak out after a moment of suffocation, and the group is quick to disperse.

Wiping away the lingering dampness from your cheek, you take a moment to compose yourself, clearing your throat with a subtle grace. Your hand instinctively finds its way back, and Astarion swiftly recovers it, his touch reassuring. Soft circles dance on the back of your hand, a silent question lingering in his gaze, seeking affirmation that you're all right. You respond with a nod and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"Ah, well…" you chuckle with a hint of self-awareness. "I have a roast with everyone's names on it. And a blueberry pie; Astarion found a wild patch on one of his hunts."

"Thank the gods, I'm famished," Wyll sighs, his appetite evident as he sniffs the air dreamily. A nudged Karlach sets the communal movement toward the dining room in motion.

Astarion emerges with the wine, gracefully pouring glasses of red for everyone. Gale, the sole visitor to your home beforehand, takes charge of the table settings. With a flick of his fingers and a whispered incantation, plates and silverware align harmoniously. The stage set, the food emerges, and the night takes flight.

It feels like a cinematic scene picking up where it had once paused, a seamless continuation. Laughter weaves through the air, stories unfold, and even the occasional argument dissolves into a chorus of joyous laughter. Though new and fresh, the conversation flows as naturally as breathing. Strangers evolve into friends, and amidst the clinking of glasses, a familial bond begins to sprout. Tav was indeed fortunate to have these beautiful souls around.

As the night bids farewell and everyone departs, you find solace curled up against Astarion. His voice, a gentle undercurrent, softly reads from his newest book, and you gaze up, fixated on the beautiful man before you. A silent expression of gratitude graces your lips, an unspoken acknowledgment directed at Tav. Thanks for giving you a family and the love of your life.

Astarion's fingers scratch your scalp, tenderly coaxing your eyes closed. "What are you thinking about, little love?"

"Just how lucky I am."

"I would argue I'm the lucky one, but I suppose we can share," he smiles; he continues to read to you and massage your scalp until you're puddy against his body, sleep having all but consumed you. The night settles into a tranquil symphony, the warmth of shared love lingering in the serenity.

Okay I know it was a bit cheesy, but I needed so fluffy shit today. Anyway, tell me what you thought I love talking with y'all.

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna, marina-and-the-memes

[yallthemwitches]

Traditionalists

For Day 24 of @jilytoberfest 🎶Then I know everything is gonna be fine, Because you are mine🎶 -You Shine from Carrie - The Musical

“And what room is this?” James' face goes dreamy, tilting his head against the wood of the frame. “The baby’s room I reckon.” Lily turns fast on her heels. “Baby? Whose baby?” James blinks. “Ours.” He straightens up, getting a glint in his eye. “Oh wait, sorry—you want traditional order of events: engagement then marriage then house then baby. Did I get that correct?”

AO3 link Here

“SURPRISE!”

He uncovers her eyes. Lily stares at a small gated walkway that leads up to a modest looking cottage. A small billow of smoke wafts from the thatched chimney.

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s ours.” His smile is infectious, every part of his face alight with glee. 

Lily looks back at the house. The garden out front looks recently tilled, little sprouts of infant seedlings popping out from the wet earth. 

“You bought us a house?” Her mouth is set in an o formation, eyes darting to each window and wooden beam.

“Well not bought—mum and dad said we could have it if we were willing to fix it up a bit. It’s been in the family for ages as you can probably tell by the ‘Beedle and the Bard’ feel of it.”

He isn’t wrong to call it a place out of a fairytale. Even down to the front porch, there is a hint of domestication and whimsy that her cement brick of a family home back in Cokeworth could never achieve. 

“James, it's lovely but— we aren’t even engaged.”

She rips her eyes away from the building, turning to watch his brow furrow before something clicks in his brain and his lips curl into an impish smile.

“Didn’t peg you for such a traditionalist, Evans. Would it make you feel better if I got on one knee right now?”

Lily sputters, cheeks burning. He has been doing this more and more lately, suggesting the idea of marriage. Eventually she had to tell him to stop after the fourth or fifth time he would crouch down on one knee in front of her and linger here just long enough to make her heart soar before straightening back up with the excuse of an itchy ankle or dropping a quill. 

“That’s not what I’m saying. It's just—we just graduated and you have only just met mum and dad—I hardly think that they would accept me bunking with my boyfriend so soon.”

“‘Bunking’ is it?” He quips, “Sure hope then they don’t find out how much ‘bunking’ we did back at school.”

She gives him a pointed glare and he concedes, reaching out to give her chin a little squeeze. 

“At least come see it first before you completely shoot it down—I did a lot of work already but it needs a feminine touch before it will be perfect.”

He takes her hand and swings open the gate to lead her down the walk. Closer to the garden beds, she can see little wooden signs popping out from the dirt. In James’ unmistakable scrawl are written the words: Lavender, Rosemary, Vervain, Wolfsbane.

“So this is the garden—mum said it’s good luck to plant the first two but otherwise I figured you’d want a healthy supply of potions ingredients.”

He doesn’t let her linger, pulling her up onto the porch and pulling back the heavy set door. Inside, the main room is full of light from the large windows. Bookshelves are already lined with a mixture of muggle and wizarding titles—many of which look like duplicates of the ones she keeps at home. Between books are slanted photographs of times gone by: her and him mid embrace after his Quidditch Cup win; Lily and Remus sitting in the forest near the Potter Mansion, rat crawling on her head as a stag nuzzles at her neck, a dog’s tongue slides up the side of the camera; a muggle photo she took of Sirius and James in Paris, both in mid guffaw as they are flanked by cancan dancers.

Her eyes scan away to a glinting object in the corner. A brand new TV set sits on its stand with a betamax player at its feet. A copy of Harold and Maude sits atop.

“I always wanted a TV,” James chirps, noticing her staring at the muggle invention. 

“Is that right? You planning on becoming one of those blokes who would ignore their naked wife just to watch a match?”

James looks aghast. “Merlin no Lils! I’ll just shag you from behind so we both can watch–” 

She pretends to scoff in disgust and he grabs her around the belly, calloused fingers wiggling until she is in tears from laughing.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I even expected,” she says, now with a cramp in her stomach. 

“Might I remind you that you brought up the ‘naked wife’ bit–” He puts emphasis on the last word, squeezing her hand tighter. 

“You’re Impossible,” she mutters, taking his hand to yank him into what looks like the hallway. 

He has decorated the hall with posters and art that mirror their shared Heads’ office back at school: a various smattering of film titles mixed with art pieces. He takes the lead, opening the doors one by one and letting her peer in. The rooms are less put together than the main living space, but the idea is there: a guest room (“In case Remus needs a place—the laws around Werewolves have been strangling these past couple years”), a room with a work desk and various bits and bobs (“a shared laboratory if you will—”), and a master bedroom. 

At the very end of the hall, the final room opens up to a small but bright space that is completely bare save for a coat of pastel red on the walls. Lily walks in and turns around, cocking a brow at her boyfriend who leans in the doorframe.

“And what room is this?”

James' face goes dreamy, tilting his head against the wood of the frame.

“The baby’s room I reckon.”

Lily turns fast on her heels.

“Baby? Whose baby?”

James blinks. “Ours.” He straightens up, getting a glint in his eye.

“Oh wait, sorry—you want traditional order of events: engagement then marriage then house then baby. Did I get that correct?”

Lily turns back to the room. The sunlight pours onto the floor casting little phantoms of the leaves. 

“James—it's lovely. It really is…but what about—” her voice fractures. The house is everything she ever dreamed of—a real life with him, built and filled with the express intention of happiness. She’s only just learned of it and it’s already hard to let go. 

“We’ve committed to the Order. Will be at war and Merlin knows we might have to go into hiding if things go south. It’s a beautiful thought but we just can’t afford to dream like—”

“Rubbish.” He cuts her off, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “That’s what he wants us to do. We can’t just stop living because there’s a war out there.”

“Nothing is a sure thing anymore, James.”

James takes a step forward. Eyes bright and pleading. 

“We are a sure thing. And all of this,” he gestures around the room, “Can be too. We can’t let them take it away from us.”

She feels the tears rimming her eyes. She can picture it so well: James tinkering on a new invention in the side room, Remus and Sirius dropping by, touting a case of beer and wild stories that they will tell in great hyperbolic zeal, a baby—a beautiful little child whose hands are smaller than a snitch, gargling with peals of laughter as James lifts him up, up into the air and spins.

“Ok—yeah, alright.” She wipes her nose, giving a small hesitant chuckle to dispel the reservations that still harbor at the shores of her vision. “Let’s do it.”

James crosses the small distance between them, picking her up and spinning her until she lets out a laugh that feels oddly reminiscent of their imaginary child. He sets her down and pushes her into him, his hot breath on her head like a warming aura. 

“I love you,” she murmurs into him. “Let’s be a family.”

He kisses her head, his smile infecting her from the head down. “Woah, Evans. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says in mock reserve, “I mean, we aren’t even engaged yet.”

[praisethegabs]

UMBRELLA

pairing: leon kennedy x reader synopsis: he's your partner, and you both have one thing in common: finish the job. sadly, you weren't expecting a betrayal. warnings: smut, rough sex (yeah, those kinds of things), description of fights and injures, blood, and violence. MINORS, DNI! author's note: inspired by a edit i saw on tiktok (apparently it got deleted), and i needed to write something like that. word count: 5023k

you believe this is a game, and you might be right. but if you think you can play it better than me, think again.

The building was silent, dark, and cold.

You could see the Umbrella logo on the wall, but that place was abandoned for a very long time. There was furniture tossed around, blocking the way, armchairs, bookshelves, and a lot of dust, pieces of broken glass, and mold.

You couldn't tell exactly when that building was abandoned, but the marks made by the time indicated it had been years, and you knew that since the corporation's downfall, the aura of malevolence still clung to the abandoned structure like a ghostly presence. Probably was right before Raccoon City went to hell since the government blamed Umbrella Corporation for the disaster.

At least, you weren't in there alone.

They say he's America's finest agent, but for you, he's the finest agent in America. Everyone knows his name. Everyone calls him Agent Kennedy, but he likes it when you call him Leon. Just Leon.

He's been your partner for a very long time, and you both succeeded in a lot of missions together. To your superiors, no one is good as you two, which is why they always send you together. You dare to say is the chemistry between you two that always helps during these long missions, and you can deny it, you know you have feelings for him. Your guess is that he also knows it.

But there's only one thing that bothers you a little.

And this thing is the fact that you always feel like you don't know him completely. It's like Leon hides himself inside a shell, and no one can enter his private little world. No one knows a thing about him. His birth date? His favorite weather or his favorite drink? He's an enigma, and you hate him for that. He knows every aspect of your life, but you don't know about him, and this small thing makes you angry. Constantly.

At first, it bothered you knowing nothing about him, but now, after all these years together, you just don't care so much anymore. He's just your mysterious partner that you care about, despite the fact his unknown to you.

"This place is weird," you say to him, moving an armchair from your way, your flashlight indicating the right direction. "I mean, the Umbrella was so huge years ago and now... all that is left is dust and empty buildings"

"Perfect for a good trap, don't you think?" Leon lights you up with his flashlight, smirking at you.

"Yeah, it's pretty suspicious. I'm not sure that bioweapon is here, I mean, look at this place," you said, walking forward, reaching the door to enter the depths of the building.

"Are you afraid of the dark, sweetheart?" Leon teased you, getting closer so he can follow your pace. You can smell his cologne, the one you love so much.

But you couldn't give him an answer since you were too focused on your job to care about his jokes. And despite his jokes, even though he was there, you had a strange feeling in your chest, like something was wrong. All those years next to Leon, and you still had that strange feeling, and even after so many attempts to get rid of the feeling, you just made peace with it, giving up.

But then, you hear a loud noise coming from the inside of the building. The hall was dimly lit, and the air was thick with dust and an unsettling silence. Broken lab equipment and remnants of twisted experiments lay strewn across the floor, telling the haunting tale of the atrocities committed here in the past. As they ventured deeper, the tension grew thicker, and your grip on your pistol tightened.

"I have a bad feeling about this" you whisper, feeling your heart beating much faster inside your chest.

"Quoting Star Wars won't help" Leon muttered to you, but you knew he was just teasing you to make things better.

"Just shut up" you chuckle, following inside to search for any type of danger or any sign of the bioweapon.

As you both entered a large, dimly lit chamber, the sound of dripping water echoed eerily through the silence. The room was lined with rows of mysterious containment units, some of them still sealed shut, while others lay open and empty. You shone your flashlight on a nearby computer terminal, hoping to find any trace of the experiments that had taken place.

Leon came across a stack of faded documents, partially eaten by time and neglect. He picked one up, squinting to read the blacked-out text that remained. It hinted at bioengineering and viral research far beyond anything they had encountered before. Suddenly, a distant creak echoed through the chamber, and both of you instinctively turned your attention toward it. Your hearts raced as you exchanged glances, confirming that you were not alone. Whatever lay hidden within the darkness was now aware of your presence.

Carefully, you both advanced toward a concealed staircase, leading you underground to a maze of forgotten catacombs. The air grew colder, and a stale, damp smell pervaded the underground corridors. Illuminated by your flashlights, the walls revealed unsettling symbols and arcane diagrams, hinting at the occult experiments performed by the malevolent organization.

In the depths of the catacombs, you both stumbled upon an unexpected sight: a dimly lit laboratory that appeared to have been operational even after the corporation's apparent demise. Here, strange machines hummed faintly, and the green glow of biohazard containers cast an ominous aura on the scene.

"What the hell they were doing in here?" You glance at Leon, shocked by everything you both saw in there, although he didn't give you an answer.

The duo pressed onward, uncovering evidence of illegal human experimentation, genetic manipulation, and the development of bioweapons. The scale of Umbrella's atrocities was chilling, and the weight of responsibility to expose the truth bore heavily on your and Leon's shoulder. The moon could be seen from the windows, casting eerie shadows across the forgotten structure. Ivy and moss crept up the walls, nature reclaiming the once imposing fortress.

"Are you sure that bioweapon is here, Leon?" You asked, gripping your flashlight tightly.

"I know it's dangerous, but we need to find out what Umbrella was up to before they disappeared, and I'm sure our intel was right" Leon replied, his eyes scanning the place for any signs of trouble.

Together, you two pushed open the rusty metal doors, the hinges creaking like a haunting melody. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of decay and dampness. Broken glass crunched beneath your boots as you stepped into the abandoned lobby inside the lab, the remnants of a once bustling corporate hub. Your flashlight danced across the faded company logo on the wall.

"It's hard to believe this place was once responsible for such horrors." You whisper, looking around the place, searching for shreds of evidence or new clues.

"Yeah," Leon agreed, "but there might be something left behind that could help us locate the bioweapon"

As you advanced, you two discovered a vast laboratory section, much bigger than the first one. Countless empty test tubes and shattered vials littered the floor, reminders of the sinister experiments that once took place there. Again, a faint humming sound resonated through the halls. Leon and you exchanged glances, your hearts pounding in unison. Following the sound, you found yourselves in front of a sealed door.

"This must be where the main research was conducted," Leon whispered, touching the sealed door to see if he could open it.

"Do you think there's still something here?" You nodded, your nerves on edge as you speak.

"There's only one way to find out," Leon replied, producing a keycard he had acquired during your investigations.

With a beep, the door unlocked, revealing a dimly lit room filled with computers and lab equipment. Dust motes danced in the light as you two stepped inside, and the soft hum of machinery surrounded them.

"Let's split up," Leon suggested, "We can cover more ground that way. But stay in contact."

You agreed, and you both started examining the room. Leon tapped on the keyboard of an old computer, hoping it would give you some clue as to Umbrella's operations. Meanwhile, you sifted through old files, your eyes widening at the horrific experiments documented within. As you searched, the unsettling feeling that you were not alone grew stronger. Leon could sense the presence of something sinister lurking in the shadows. He turned his flashlight towards a dark corner and froze. A faint glimmer of red eyes stared back at him.

"Leon!" Your voice came through the radio, filled with urgency. "I found something you need to see."

Reluctantly tearing his eyes away, Leon rushed over to your location. You had found a hidden compartment, inside of which lay a collection of files marked "Top Secret."

"These could blow the lid off everything," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and determination. "With this kind of file, our government can at least know exactly what Umbrella was doing all this time... and that's not all"

Leon raised an eyebrow, getting closer to you so he could see what you had in your hands. He was curious. You could feel his breath on your neck, which made your body shiver instantly. You always felt something going insane inside you every time he got closer like this. And you hated yourself for not hiding it better.

"What else did you find?" Leon asks you, and you noticed that suddenly, he seemed disturbed and worried.

"There's another file. This one enlists all the double agents working for Umbrella," you said, opening the said file to have a better look at it.

Leon took the file from your hands, having a look himself. He looked at all the pages like he was trying to find something very important. You noticed his hands were shaking, and he was breathing heavily. You never saw him react like that, and your sixth sense screamed in your head something was wrong.

"Leon, is everything alright? You seem disturbed" you ask him, feeling your heart beating faster inside your chest, and you were starting to get nervous.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think we should go" he said, and his voice sounded dark as he closed the file and didn't return it to you.

"You can give me the file" Your voice sounded a little bit scared, but you tried your best to sound calm. Your hands, however, betrayed you.

"No, I can take it," Leon said, without looking at you and holding the file like it was his life in his hands. "Let's go"

But soon as he turned away from you, an instinct yelled at you, and without thinking twice, you took the file from him, standing away quickly. Leon turned to face you again, his eyes surprised and angry, trying to understand your insolence.

Leon Kennedy, the charismatic agent you had come to trust and rely on, stood before you. But there was something different about him now — his once warm gaze now seemed guarded, distant, and strangely calculating. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to his mission than he had let on.

"Please give me the file," Leon said, his voice steady but lacking the usual warmth.

"Why, Leon? What's going on?" you asked, your voice quivering with both fear and suspicion.

Leon stepped closer, his piercing eyes fixated on you, and you felt like a defenseless prey looking straight into your hunter.

"It's not what you think. This information is sensitive, and I can't risk it falling into the wrong hands," he said, getting closer as you tried to step back, keeping distance from him.

"Sensitive? What could be so sensitive that you can't trust me, your partner, with it?" You couldn't ignore the knot of doubt tightening in your stomach.

Your question seemed to agitate Leon, and for a moment, a flicker of frustration crossed his face. He took a deep breath, composing himself before speaking.

"It's not about trust, sweetheart. But this goes beyond our mission. Lives are at stake, and I can't let anything jeopardize that." Leon said firmly, his eyes locked on yours, analyzing every move you made.

You felt your heart sank. You had always admired Leon's dedication to his duty, but this seemed different. It was as if he was hiding something from you, something much darker than you could have ever imagined. You couldn't shake off the thought that Leon might not be the hero you had perceived him to be.

"Leon, we're a team. We face these dangers together," you implored, taking a step closer to him.

His eyes softened for a moment, but the resolve quickly returned. Your heart was beating so faster inside your chest that you were certain you would have it ripping your skin apart. You wanted to run, but you knew he would catch you.

"I know we are, but sometimes, in this line of work, there are things that one must carry alone. You don't need the burden of this knowledge." Leon said, his voice more cold and dark than before, his eyes scanning you and a slight smirk appearing on his lips. His words only fueled your suspicion further.

"Burden? Or the truth? I deserve to know, Leon. We both deserve to know what we're up against." You yelled at him, now completely scared.

Leon hesitated, torn between revealing more or maintaining the secrecy. You saw the battle within him, and that made you even more determined to uncover the truth, whatever it was. You remembered the countless times you both had saved each other's lives, trusting one another with your very existence.

"Leon, if you won't tell me the truth, then I'll find it myself," you declared, your voice unwavering as you took a step back, clutching the file tightly in your hand.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the hallway startled you both. Leon's eyes darted towards the door, and without another word, he lunged forward and snatched the file from your grasp.

"Leon, what's going on?" You demanded, your heart pounding faster, your hands shaking with fear.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I can't risk you getting involved any further." He hesitated for a moment, looking at you with a mix of remorse and determination.

Before you could react, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, feeling betrayed and confused. Your mind raced, trying to process everything that had just happened. You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was deeply wrong. The doubts that had been lingering in the shadows now emerged with full force, and you knew that if you wanted to uncover the truth, you had to act fast. You went right after him, willing to take the truth out.

You took your knife out, and then, smoothly and quickly, you tripped his legs, which sent him crashing to the ground with a loud thud. You then leaped over him, holding the knife hard against his neck, the sharp blade gently tearing through his skin in a thin, shallow slash.

"I want the truth, Leon" you demanded again, pressing your knife deeper on his neck, using your knees to block his hands. "Or I swear to God, one of us won't see the sunlight"

"You're making things way more difficult than they should be" Leon replied, looking angry right before he switched places with you, leaving you under him. "We don't have to do this"

And unexpectedly, you hit him precisely, allowing yourself to be free from his grip. You stood up, grabbed your knife, and prepared to duel him.

"Then let's get clean. I won't let you go without telling me the truth" you said, noticing he also took his knife, you both in your positions, ready to fight.

"When I finish, remember that you chose this," he said, his voice more cold and dark as he prepared to fight with you.

Without another word, Leon and you lunged forward, knives glinting in the low light. The dance of blades began, the sound of steel clashing filling the room as you both tested each other's defenses and reflexes. Your movements were fluid, almost like a choreographed routine, but this was no ordinary dance – it was a deadly game of skill and strategy.

You struck first, your knife slicing through the air with precision. Leon deflected your attack with ease, stepping back to assess your next move. You came at him again, this time with a flurry of rapid strikes, but Leon parried each one, displaying his years of training and experience. Your connection was extraordinary. Your moves were perfectly timed, and it seemed as though you both could anticipate each other's intentions before you even made a move. It was a testament to the hours spent training together, forging a bond that transcended words.

The room echoed with the clashing of metal, and sweat began to bead on your brows. You were both pushing your limits, seeking to better yourselves and each other in this intense battle of skill and willpower. Your footwork was agile, and you utilized your speed to keep Leon on his toes. You feinted to the left and then lunged at his right side, but he was ready for you, sidestepping the attack and countering with a swift strike of his own. The tip of his knife grazed your shoulder, leaving a small, superficial cut.

You didn't flinch; instead, a determined glint flashed in your eyes. You intensified your efforts, your movements becoming more unpredictable and aggressive. Leon welcomed the challenge, his mind sharpened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Your breaths became audible, the rhythm of your heartbeats in sync with the dance you two performed.

A momentary distraction proved costly for Leon. As he glanced over your shoulder, you seized the opportunity, delivering a swift kick to his side, sending him stumbling backward. You capitalized on his momentary weakness, pressing the advantage and slashing your knife toward his exposed flank. Leon barely managed to twist away, but the blade still grazed his side, drawing a thin line of blood. The pain fuelled his determination, and he came back with renewed intensity. His strikes became more aggressive, forcing you to fall back and focus on your defense.

The clash of steel echoed through the night, a harmonious symphony of combat. You both moved with a fluidity that spoke of countless hours of practice, each moves an extension of your very being. But despite your efforts, neither seemed to gain the upper hand.

Time seemed to blur as you two fought, the minutes felt like seconds, and the seconds like an eternity. Both Leon and you were growing weary, the strain of the duel taking its toll. Sweat still dripped from your brows, and both of your breaths were labored, but neither was willing to yield. Then, in a moment of exhaustion, your concentration slipped ever so slightly. Leon seized the opportunity, redirecting your blade and disarming you with a swift, well-placed strike. Your knife flew from your hand, landing several feet away.

For a brief moment, the room fell silent, the only sound of the heavy panting of the combatants. Leon stood victorious, his knife pointed at you, who lowered your hands, breathing heavily but not willing to give up yet. A smile tugged at the corner of Leon's lips, a mix of relief and pride in his accomplishment.

"Well fought," he said, his voice slightly breathless, his eyes still locked on yours.

"Go ahead, kill me," you said to him, your eyes already tearing up, your forehead dripping sweat.

"I can't," he said, lowering his knife, catching his breath again, and for the first time, you could notice he was telling the truth.

The adrenaline inside you made your heart beat faster. But deep down, you knew it wasn't just the adrenaline. It was your feelings for him too, dominating your mind like poison, controlling every move of yours. Leon remained silent, his eyes still focused and locked on yours, and even though you both were tired, you knew he was sharing the same as you.

"What are you waiting for, Leon?" you asked him, accepting it was your end. You would die without knowing the truth, although you were starting to figure it out. "Fucking finish me"

But then, he surprised you with an urgent kiss, picking you up, holding your thighs, and pressing you hard against the wall, his tongue tasting every part of your face and your neck. You tangled your legs around his neck, your fingernails leaving scratches on his back, making him moan between your shared kisses.

Then, he put you down on a table, removing everything that was above, not caring about the noise or the mess or even the dirt. He used his belt to tie you down, removing your jeans and your underwear before he did the same. His fingers reached your pussy and he smiled largely, satisfied with his effect on you.

"I know you wanted me, ever since the day we met," he said, touching your clit and circling very slowly. "But that's okay, honey... I've always wanted to fuck you too"

"Shit, Leon..." You moan for him, biting your lip as you feel his touch. You were about to close your legs, but he stopped you from doing so.

"Don't you dare close your legs, sweetheart. I won't be gentle with you" he said, using the tip of his cock to tease you, rubbing it on your pussy, making you moan.

He gagged you with your underwear and smiled even more, looking at how desperate you were. You were so wet that he didn't have any trouble penetrating you, going deeper and slowly, his finger still circling your clit.

"Is this how you imagined me fucking you, honey?" he provoked you, starting to fuck you harder and you nodded, unable to answer. "Shit, you're so good... so tight, just for me"

He moans as he goes deeper into you, his fingers circling your clit, following the moves of his hips against yours. You moan, even muffled by your underwear in your mouth. He forces you to watch what he's doing to you, his hand holding your tied hands, making sure you're not going to move.

"You're so fucking beautiful" he moans again, looking at you, seeing your desperate body beg for him, which makes him smile largely. "Oh, God..."

Then, he takes off the underwear from your mouth and makes you sit down on your knees on the floor, putting his cock in your mouth, almost reaching your throat, making you suck him. He holds your head, making you taste him deeper, and when he removed himself out of your mouth, you gasped. Your eyes were tearing up, but he didn't care, he kept forcing you to suck him, and he knew you were enjoying it.

"Come on, sweetheart" he moans again, holding your head as he watches you suck him deep. "Shit, you're so good, baby"

You felt his precum on your mouth, and when he got closer to cum, he started to masturbate and force you to look at him while he did that. He started to moan again, still holding your head tight, until he released himself, and his cum when all over your face, his moans louder. His breath was heavier, and you saw his body trembling with the sudden release of pleasure. And to you, it was the most beautiful image you had of him, the type of Greek sculpture made by the Gods.

But if you thought he was done with you, well, you were wrong.

He lifted you again, pulling you back on the desk, spreading your legs wide open to lick you, tasting you on his tongue. The contact he made was so intense that the moan escaped through your lips like a sweet melody. Your tied hands reached his hair, and when he felt your touch, he glanced at you, a mean smile appearing on his lips.

"No, no, darling," he said, moving your hands away from his hair, that devilish smile still on his lips.

Leon hold your hands, and then, he returned his mouth to your pussy, licking it like a starved animal eating his prey. You started to moan, this warm feeling growing inside you, dominating your entire being. You lost yourself in the waves of pleasure, feeling them crashing over you like a tsunami of raw emotion. Your breathing grew heavier, each breath a desperate attempt to hold on to reality amidst the overwhelming ecstasy.

"Leon," you finally gasped, your voice barely a whisper. "I can't hold on much longer."

He met your gaze, his eyes filled with desire and passion, his pleasure entwined with yours, as he kept licking you, getting his mouth filled with your lubrication.

"Let go, honey," he encouraged his voice husky with desire. "I'm here with you."

With a final surge of intensity, you finally surrendered to the tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your body quivered and shook, waves of delight coursing through your veins like liquid fire. In that euphoric moment, you were weightless, suspended in an infinite sea of rapture. Your body trembled with ecstasy as you let out a cry that echoed through the room, and then, you felt your body relaxed, and a sense of serenity washed over you. You opened your eyes, and the intensity of your gaze met Leon's.

For a moment, you could find words to express your thoughts. You remained in silence, watching the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. You couldn't think about anything else besides what happened. Your body was sensitive, still shivering, and you could still feel the pleasure. Until you saw him getting dressed again.

"I know you had a crush on me," he says out of nowhere, attaining your attention again. "And that is okay, this feeling is mutual"

"How long have you known that?" you ask him, sitting on the desk and putting your clothes back on again.

"Ever since we met. I wasn't kidding" he said, putting his gear back on, glancing at you while he spoke.

And when he turned around, you took the opportunity to look at the file about the double agents. And when you saw his name in there, everything started to fall apart. Everything made sense to you. Leon Scott Kennedy, the agent you fell in love with and trusted with your life, was working for the Umbrella Corporation. His eyes met yours, and there was nothing he could say.

"You work for them?" was the only thing you could ask him, feeling betrayed.

Leon sighed heavily, and instantly, his eyes changed. It was cold, dark, and empty of emotions. There was a macabre smile on his lips as he started to walk towards you.

"I told you before... you shouldn't have looked at it" he said, and then everything went black.

Your head was spinning around, and your left temple was aching, and you knew it was like someone hit you hard in the head. Besides this, your wrists were hurting too, and when you finally opened your eyes, you looked up and saw yourself suspended in the air, your hands tied by chains. You tried to free yourself, but it was very tight, and there was nothing you could do.

Suddenly, you heard a noise, and you felt your body falling to the ground, with a loud thud. Every part of you was hurting, and you felt your bones were burning. You started to cry when you saw Leon approaching you. His gaze is almost diabolical, like he was an animal with his helpless prey.

It was like he could take all the air from your lungs and leave you to die, and probably he would do that without hesitation. The sad part? You wouldn't mind. You felt so betrayed that at the moment, nothing else matters.

You were laying down on the floor, your eyes tearing up and your body aching in pain, and all he did was stare at you with those devilish, cold, and handsome blue eyes that you always loved. And while your body remembered that you were bleeding, your mind was racing, all your thoughts were focused on only one question: why?

"It hurts when we face the truth, isn't it?" he asks you, kneeling next to you, his hand resting on his knee as he holds his gun.

"I fucking hate you" Your voice sounds sharper and angrier, but you can't even stop looking at him.

"Funny. This isn't what I heard five hours ago" he smirks, trying to break your control, his hand reaching for your open wound, poking it and making you scream. "Yeah, that's better"

"You fucking asshole" your voice cracked a little as you sob in pain, your body twitching, trying to escape from him. "Why would you do that? You tricked me"

"Tricked you?" he laughs, his voice sounding colder than ever as he keeps looking at your miserable condition. "C'mon... I'm just doing my job, honey"

You spit on his face, your tears already falling down your cheeks. He smiled again, cleaning himself from your saliva before he grabbed you by your neck, his grip tight.

"I'll give you three options, honey. Chose one of them very carefully" Leon said, his eyes locked on yours, his dark smile getting bigger as he forced you to look at him. "One, you'll return with me, and you won't say a word about that damn file and let me do my job..."

You felt his cold gun reaching your face. He gently rubbed it on your face.

"Two, you'll work with me and help me get what I want" he whispers, his voice still cold, but a little bit caring, his eyes shining with the possibilities.

"What's the third option?" you ask him, your voice failing a little due to his tight grip on your neck. He smiled again, biting his lower lip before saying something.

"Your third option is death" he revealed calmly, like he did that before. You cried a little more, but he didn't care. "And I'll make it very slowly and painfully. So, darling, what's your choice?"

[gojo-mochi]

hey hey! could I request for the kinktober event vampire!mihawk or demon!crocodile? also, can you put some smut and some extra spices? Like maybe mihawk getting completly adicted on readers blood? tx dear, hope ya have a good day!!

CW: Fem!reader with dress. Blood drinking (ofc), Mention of weed usage, cockwarming, fingering, p/v cowgirl position, Mihawk calls you a bitch once, overstimulation. Vampire powers. Hints of Yandere!Mihawk. 

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! Hope you enjoy it! From my kinktober event! 

Word Count: 3.7k 

You decided that you had enough of the sweaty dancing bodies on the first floor of the mansion. Bumping and pushing your way into the crowd, almost elbowing a guy in the stomach for not getting the hint that you did not want him to grind on you. Sweat dripped down your cheek as you eventually made it to the stairwell. Exploring the second floor only to find that most of the room was already occupied from the noises you were hearing. Sounds like most of them were having a good time as well. Sighing, you took your weary leg up another flight of stairs, up to the third floor of the mansion.

Finding this floor to be relatively empty, only a couple of stoners laze around the hallway or some of the open rooms you peeked in. The heavy smoke wafting through the air was enough for you to be feeling woozy, stumbling your way further down the floor and finding an empty hallway leading to a grand set of double doors. You push on it and shuffle your way in, taking in a deep breath of clean air. Enjoying how you could breathe easily without coughing your lungs out now. You rub your eyes as you take a clear look at the room you were in, lines of shelves filled with various books enter your vision.

Of course, the weird old creepy mansion has a grand library in it. It was eerily quiet in the library, you half-expected some old decrepit librarian lady to come and shush you as you shut the door behind you, the hinges creaking loudly. A sign that no one has used this place in a long while, if the small coating of dust bunnies on the bookshelves weren’t evidence enough. Still, it was better than the other hallway, a little bit of dust never hurt anyone anyway. You decided to stay here for a while, eyeing the titles of books as you walk further into the library.

“Science, History, Math too? Was the owner a teacher or something?” You ponder your thoughts out loud as you read some of the titles that caught your eye. “The Adventure of the long-nosed Liar, 101 ways to scam someone, How to Cook Oden, Finding the One Piece in your life….”  None of these really interested you, your eyes were so focused on scanning the Shelves that you didn’t realize that there was someone else in the library with you. Someone who has been watching you the entire time, from the moment you stepped into the library, his piercing golden eyes were trained on you. 

Mihawk would usually just use his power to convince anyone who finds the library to leave immediately, he wasn't about to let anyone ruin his safe haven. Annoyed that he got tricked by a certain red-haired- drunk into even coming to this party. However, when you came in, he was taken aback by your mouth-watering scent. So he stayed back, carefully watching your every move like a hawk. You were dressed as a murder victim or that’s what he believed at least, a white collared dress splatter in fake blood. He knew it was fake from the awful chemical smell that was coming from it. It was a simple costume for someone who also didn’t really want to attend this party either. 

Mihawk licks his lips as he thought about painting your dress with real blood instead, covering that awful synthetic smell with your sweet honeyed aroma instead. The fake blood was too lightly colored anyway, real blood would be a nice richer color, like the color of his favorite bottle of wine. These thoughts swirl in his head as he continues to observe your actions, scrunching up his nose as you come across some vampire themed novels. How ironic he thought silently, seeing you picked a book called “Marked by the Vampire '', raising an eyebrow in curiosity when your heartbeat quickens a bit when you skimmed through the book.

The book you just picked up just so happened to be a raunchy and steamy romance novel, one of those that the ladies in book clubs will absolutely fawn and gossip over for days. You landed on a page right in the middle of a sex scene. The poor innocent village girl who was taken captive by the dark and broody vampire was now being pinned underneath him, your eyes glued to the pages as you read on; “His fangs grazed her neck, not yet puncturing in, just a light tease. His hands groped down on her body, feeling her terrified nerves with every single moment he made. She gasps out as one of his hands roam under her dress, pulling it up and-”

“You seem quite captivated by this book, it must be an interesting read.” A rich and mysterious voice spoke out from behind you. You drop the book instantly, turning back to come face to face with a tall dark-haired stranger. He was dressed like some sort of slutty vampire? If you had to take a guess, that is, considering that he was wearing a high-collared dark cape, a brimmed feather hat, and those fancy high-waisted pants. But no shirt, so you were free to ogle at his extremely toned abs and his also very muscular arms when he bends down to pick up the fallen book.

Muscles and ogling aside, how long has he been here for anyway? Were you just too absorbed into reading to notice someone come in? The door’s hinges should have alerted you with how loud they creaked earlier. Or was he in here the whole time and you just never noticed? It gave you a dreadful feeling in the pits of your stomach. You were alone, far away from the rest of the party, with a stranger who looked like he could pick you up by the throat with one hand. You nervously start to shift away a bit from him, only for him to stop you with one glance down of his golden eyes. 

His calloused hands held the book open, right on the page where you left it. “Planning on leaving so soon? It looked like you were enjoying this book, apologize if I startled you.” His eyes switched back to the book and its pages, you could see the small movement of his pupils as he browsed over the text. “Very interesting read, I can see why you were so engrossed in it.” His facial expression was neutral but his tone gave away his thoughts on it, it had a teasing lilt to it and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. 

You chuckled out shakily, shrugging your shoulders back in reply. “I just didn’t notice you came in here that’s all. Or were you here before me? Anyway, I was just bored and the book looked like it was fun but that doesnt mean I was that into it!” A delicate blush rushes up to your face as you try to defend yourself, being caught reading something smutty and enjoying it by a handsome guy. Mihawk’s eyes narrowed upon seeing your blush, he could practically hear the rush of blood in your veins at this point. He chuckles out himself, “No need to be ashamed now, my dear. Everyone has needs, don’t they? I know I certainly do. Ah, How about this then? Since we both don’t seem to be fond of the party, why don't we find something fun to do here.” 

You noticed that he didn’t answer your questions but your mind was getting fuzzier by the minute, was the weed hitting out this late or something. Mihawk took a couple of steps towards you, his free cupping your cheek gently, running a thumb over your skin. “We can even recreate some of the scenes in this book, if you so like, my dear.” His eyes seemed to bore right into your soul, your body froze up, but your skin felt like it was gonna melt from how fast it was heating up. Mihawk throws the book behind him, leaning his head down to your neck. 

His hand on your cheek, forcibly tilting your head back so he could have more access to your pretty little neck. He wasn’t planning on drinking anyone's blood at this party, thinking that no one’s who would go to a party like this would have blood worth drinking. But you prove him wrong, still he wasn’t one to keep a victim or drain them completely. He finds it bothersome to have someone around all the time and getting rid of a body was equally bothersome as well. He would just do his standard routine of mind control and taking some blood and leave you somewhere else on the floor.

Erasing your memories of him and having you believe that you just got blacked out drunk. Clean, simple and cut, no need for anything fancy or extra work. Simple… that what he thought this was going to be, until he finally got a taste of your blood. His fangs sink in so easily, like slicing into a cake, the first savor of your sweet crimson nectar on his tongue had Mihawk moaning shamelessly. Sinking his fangs in even deeper than he usually does. His tongue flicked rapidly to lap up every single drop. 

Mihawk then lets go of you with another debauched groan coming from his throat. Your blood dripped down the side of his face and chin. The spell on your mind gradually loses its powers, your eyes blink reality back into existence slowly. Mihawk was wiping away your blood with a handkerchief when your mind snapped back together, you stumbled backwards and fell ungracefully on your ass. Scrambling away from your attacker, holding the two bleeding holes in your neck with a shaky hand. 

Mihawk was in shock, he never lost control like this before, but you… you were different from all the others he ever drank from. Comparing their blood to yours would be like comparing pig swill to a bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Grand Cru 1945. He couldn't let you get away so easily, but he wasn't going to resort to savagery. No, he had other ways to get you to submit, it should be easy, after all, he could smell your arousal leaking down on your panties…

He finished wiping away at his face, pocketing his handkerchief away and bending down on one knee and reaching out a hand to you. “Apologies once more, my dear. This has never happened… happened to me before.” It sounded like he was apologizing for cumming too early, not for freaking biting your neck! You glare at the hand he was offering to you, but you still stopped your escape plan for now. “I don’t know if a simple apology is gonna cut it for trying to kill me, you know.” You hiss out at him, swatting away his hand when it comes closer like a cat. 

Mihawk’s eyes widened by a fraction for a small second. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, my dear. I just wanted a taste but it seems that your blood was far more appetizing than I thought. Still, I would never kill you.” ‘You’re far too special for that.. And I have other things in mind for you…’ Mihawk levels his facial expression to look more docile, reaching out his hand once again. “I propose a deal, you let me drink some of your blood and I’ll make this night into an unforgettable experience for you.” He even gave you a small smile at the end, the slight quirk of his lips was enough to make you clench your thighs together.

Damn him and his handsome face…”What do you mean by ‘unforgettable experience’ exactly?” This time as Mihawk’s hand comes towards you, you decide to take it, his other hand swooping down to the small of your back to help lift you back up to your feet. He angles his head a bit towards you as he answers; “You know, my dear. I can tell how wet you got from earlier. My senses tell me that you crave in a different way. I can help take care of that for you, in simple exchange. A treat for a treat, shall we say? No tricks here.” 

His smooth sultry travels to your ear all the way down to your core. Could you really trust a stranger, lest alone a Vampire, to keep his word? You’re weren’t exactly sure but you when are you ever going to get the chance to fuck a vampire? You could just blame your poor choices on the copious amount of second-hand weed you inhaled on this floor. You licked your lips, looking back up at the vampire. “Could I at least get your name first?” You asked shyly, feeling more anxious and embarrassed that he could tell how aroused you were by him. 

Mihawk dips his head down to scrape his fangs over the pulse point of your neck. “Call me Mihawk, and you, my dear?” His hands grope at your sides, making you squeak out your name quietly. Mihawk runs his fangs over your neck once more, whispering your name over the bare skin. Then he pulls away from you, his pupils blown wide and lightly grabbing at your wrist as he leads you further in the library to a small corner with a couch in it. 

He sits down on it first, spreading his thigh out wide as he tugs on your wrist to make you come in between them. His hands back on your side as he purrs out; “I should warm up my meal first, right?” “You know, I really don't appreciate being called tha-ohhHah!” Your complaints got whisked away as Mihawk’s fingers went under your dress and palmed at your panties. His fingers pressing down heavily on the wet spot in the middle. 

His fingers pulled your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cold air and his strangely cold fingers as well. As he runs his fingers over your slick folds, your arousal drips down on his hand. He plunges in his digits into you, easily finding that spot that made your knees buckle. Your own hands grab onto Mihwak’s shoulder for balance, as he starts to find a good pace in and out of your pussy. The squelching noises echoed loudly in the eerily quiet library, your cries bouncing off the walls and back to you. “Mmff-fuc-fuck!” Mihwak kept going at an unrelenting pace, bullying your cute pussy, his wrist slapping sharply against your clit, your slick completely covering his hand at this point but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, as you try to focus your bleary eyes on his face, he was wearing a deadpan expression, his face unchanging even as your moans and knees get weaker and weaker when you start reaching your peak. 

Your fingers clawing deep into his shoulders, the coil in your stomach finally snapping and you gush out on his hand, soaking his sleeves even. “Mm-uwaahhh…ahh-ah?! Mi-Mihawk! Wait-please-ahhH-fuck!” Your body bends over, throwing your arms around Mihawk’s neck and shoulders and squeezing tight as your knees lose all of its strength. Mihawk kept on bullying your abused pussy with his fingers even through your orgasm, going at a faster pace than before. A second orgasm was already building up, Mihawk’s other hand holding you up from behind so you wouldn't fully fall over. 

“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” A colorful string of curses escapes your mouth as Mihawk forces another orgasm from you. This time Mihawk lets you collapse onto his lap, his non-stained hand massaging your back as you calm down. He softly put your thighs over his so you were spread open on his lap. His golden eyes scans your face as he unbuckles his pants and free his thick cock, rubbing the tip on your leaking folds, tilting his head in question. “Ready?” His low timbre voice was even, giving away no indication of how feral he felt inside. 

You pout at his tone, huffing out a whine; “Can you at least pretend to like this?” You murmured, hands coming up to cup his face, thumb tracing over his smooth skin, no sign of aging or wrinkles anywhere to be seen. Mihawk’s self composure almost breaks at your tender touch, he was trying his best not to give away his inner thoughts. On how he absolutely wanted to ruin you, corrupt you, take you away from the outside world and lock you in his castle with him forever. But he couldn’t risk scaring you off, he wasn’t one for the chase, he preferred to keep things neat and tidy. 

He breathes out, almost sounding annoyed, making you cringe inside. Your hands began to pull away only for Mihawk to grab them and put them back on his face. “Forgive me, my dear, I am just not used to…” He trails off, his eyes looking away from you and for a split second you could see the raging emotions he was hiding underneath. Feeling a bit bolder now that you know the kind of effect you had on him, you take action and lower your hips down, sinking his cock in you. Your previous orgasm made it easy for the first half of the stretch but he was far more lengthy than you thought. 

Mihawk groans out, feeling your tight walls squeeze him, it was like heaven on earth to him, your pulsing heat shook him to his core. Seeing you struggle to take him fully, he gets even more riled up, watching your cute scrunched up face and pussy swallowing up half of his cock. Your hushed pleas for help, as you continue to struggle. He places his lips back on the bite mark he made, pressing open mouth kisses on the wound, as his hand strokes at your swollen clit, the other one on your hip gently guiding you down. “I-I don’t think it's going to fit.” You whine, jutting your bottom lips as your pussy gets stretched out even more. 

“Don’t worry, my dear, it will fit.” ‘You were made for me after all…’ Everything about you drove Mihawk crazy and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of this foreign feeling. He just thought that your blood was the only thing special about you, but he was wrong. You sink down slowly, taking in every inch of Mihawk, his thick throbbing vein dragging along your warm walls. As you finally bottom out on his cock, Mihawk sinks in his fangs, letting out a feral moan, almost to the point of whimpering. 

He greedily gulped down your crimson saccharine nectar, you tried to alleviate the pain by moving your hips but Mihawk stopped you. His thumb was still lazily rubbing small patterns on your clit so you weren’t completely without pleasure. He lets go of your neck only so he could speak, his voice raspy and laced with heavy desire. “Don’t move too much, just sit here and let me take my fill, and th-then I’ll give you everything, my dear.” You wanted to protest but you felt you would be punished badly if you disobeyed so you stayed as still as you could. With Mihawk’s cock buried deep inside of you, his thumb only gives you enough pleasure to distract you from the stinging pain of having your blood sucked from you. 

Mihawk slowed down his feeding, opting to lap sweetly at the blood, enjoying your small squirms and needy pants. He wanted to savor your taste, drinking too quickly would ruin his meal. He already made up his mind that he was going to kidnap you but that doesn't mean he couldn't have his fun with you right now. So it was, Mihawk kept you on his lap for what felt like hours, nipping at your neck when you tried to move too much or whine too loudly for his liking. Your mind starts blanking at some point, perhaps due to the bloodlost or from the constant edging, you had enough and didn't care about the punishment right now. 

You rutted your hips forward, hands clawing at Mihawk’s open chest pitifully. Mihawk would punish you like normal, but after drinking so much of your blood, he was drunk on it. Giving your neck one last long lick and pressing his bloodied lips on yours, into a searing hot kiss. “Can’t fucking wait anymore, can you?” He thrusts up his hips, ramming his cock straight into your cervix. Bouncing his thighs in a ruthless rhythm, his hands pressing down on your hips so you felt every inch of his length in you, with no room to wiggle or move out. 

“Panting like a fucking bitch in heat, haahh..” Mihawk grunted out, spreading out one hand to rub at your clit. “Is this what you wanted huh? Plap Plap…Plap! He stutters his hips once letting his cock almost slip out, only to slam it back in forcefully once more. Your eyes roll backwards, a whole new galaxy of stars appears in your vision. Your stomach tightens and snaps, releasing and gushing all over Mihawk’s thighs and lap. He presses his forehead against yours, running the bridge of his nose over yours for a bit. 

A hand off your hip and now running through your hair, calming you down, and honestly he needed to calm down as well before his own coil would snap, his cock still sitting heavily in your core. His thighs trembling with need and desire but Mihawk was determined not to cum just yet; “Hmmmm.. Was that good enough for you? Going to finally be good now?” He sighs out, his voice quivers just a bit, if you were more clear-headed you would have caught that but you just loll your head down on his shoulder as your hole clenches and unclench on his cock, trying to adjust once more.

He softly pats your head, bringing up his other hand and summoning a book to his hand. He settles back on the couch, bringing you with and secretly making sure you’re comfortable. “Now behave while I read alright? If you interrupt me again, your next punishment will be much harsher…”

[stargazedwinchester]

Protect | Sam

A small one to get me back into writing, will be doing one for Dean also! <3

Summary: You attempt to comfort Sam from his most recent break up.

Prompt: "If she threatens you in any way you tell me, okay?" @promptsbytaurie

If anyone is interested, I have a taglist here! So if you want to be notified any time I post, pls send in a form so I can update it! Been away for a little bit so I’m gonna update it soon if anyone else has applied their interest :)

(Guys pls let me do a part 2 to this pls pls I beg)

Taglist: @girlsforpjm @rowenalovee @amythedoctor

Word count: 1,069

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

The ambience in the bunker is quieter than usual. Usually there’s some weird genre of music playing loud enough so you can hear from 4 rooms away or someone furiously tapping away on a keyboard.

Walking down toward the lobby, it’s dead quiet. Assuming no one’s home, you take a gander at the books on the bookshelves, multiple books about monster lore and latin history, demonic possession and even some without a name. They’re worn down from the use they got from when the Men of Letters were around. Without letting either of the Winchesters know about it, you managed to sneak your own normal book collection in there. What they don’t know can’t hurt them, right? Sam especially would go nuts.

Picking out a light blue book with an intricate flower design running around it, the bolder, darker letters stand out in contrast. You scan the pages before taking a seat in the armchair in the corner of the library. The floor lamp next to you is dim, setting the mood perfectly for a quick comforting read.

A cough breaks you out of your gaze, unknowing that anyone was even inside. You peer round the corner and notice a huge man with long, unruly hair. His head sits in the palm of his hand, his long legs spread out underneath the table.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper to yourself and make yourself known. “Sam?”

He grumbles, barely turning his body around to acknowledge you. “Yeah?” He clears his throat, his voice croaky and weak. You pad your way over to him and stand above him, examining the empty whiskey bottle and a glass that has remnants. His personal phone is left unlocked, a few texts sent to someone but haven’t gone through. You skim read.

7:04AM

Can we please talk?

8:15AM

Please message me, IDK what I did wrong

17:16PM

Sam, leave me alone. I’m done talking with

you. I will block your number

18:08PM

Sorry

MSG NOT SENT. TRY AGAIN

“How are you feeling?” You question, speaking carefully as he has obviously had a few drinks. You pull out a chair and sit beside him, his head remaining in his hands. You stare at him intently, hoping for a good answer. He takes a deep breath and sighs shakily. He rubs his face and he glances at you quickly. His eyes dark, and the tip of his nose crimson. He wipes his nose and takes another swig, too quick for you to even stop him. “What do you think?” He huffs, trying to show a smile but failing. You look down at the floor, unsure of what to say. He reaches over and locks his phone, then rubs his eyes with his fingers. “I don’t know what to do,” He starts, his voice wobbling. You reach for the nape of his neck and gently caress his hair, “What did I do wrong?” He starts, tears forming in his eyes as he looks at you once more, then breaking contact. “It’s okay, Sammy. Let it out.” You say, stroking his hair as he sits back, looking up at the ceiling.

“I look so weak,” He laughs, trying to collect himself. You sigh quietly. “You’re not. If it hurts you, it hurts you. It’s normal to be sad.” You say, trying to make him feel at least a little bit better. He reaches for his glass again and you place your palm over the top of it. “I think you’ve had enough of this as well,” You slide the glass across the table away from Sam. “Listen. Things like this come and go, you’re more than capable to find someone way better than her. I understand it hurts right now but in a couple of weeks time you’ll feel so much better for relying on yourself and the people that love you than the people that don’t. You’re going to be fine, Sam. Trust me.” You give the speech like your life depends on it, but seeing your close friend so heartbroken made you feel like it’s your duty to ensure he hears exactly what he needs to hear. He looks at you with shining eyes, the red in them makes the hazel pop more than usual. His nose still red and cheeks flushed, his usually neat hair is tussled. “I just loved her so much,” He sighs, straightening himself out. “But she wasn’t for me. We were so different.” He explains, his eyes scanning your face. “How so?” You ask, trying not to intrude.

“Well, I’d want to go places with her to eat, drink, whatever and she’d hate it. She’d never want to spend time with me or show me off. I guess she just wanted to use me, I think that’s the thing that hurts the most,” He admits, shedding new light on his now past relationship with this woman… something that felt like rage and sadness for him built up inside of your chest, and he carries on. “When things wouldn’t go her way, she’d get angry with me. So angry,” He pauses, “She’d threaten things but never actually go through with it, thankfully. I could never say anything because I was scared of her reaction or if she’d leave me for standing up for myself.” He finishes, a tear falling down his cheek and nothing stops you from wiping it away. Keeping your hand gently on his face, you stare into his eyes as he does yours.

“If she threatens you in any way you tell me, okay?” You say, keeping your tone calm and collected, but Sam smirks at the fire that glows within yourself, a passion for protecting the ones you love, or maybe it’s more than that.

“Okay. I will.” He smiles for the first time since this whole interaction started. You slowly start to stand up, shuffling yourself out of the chair. You remove your hand from Sams’ face, but then he unexpectedly takes your hand as you try to turn away, pulling you back. You look at him with concern, and his helpless gaze stares up at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” He says, pursing his lips. “Honestly, it’s what I needed. So, thank you.”

“I’d do anything for you, Winchester.” You say, quickly grooming his hair so its somewhat neater. Glancing into his eyes one last time, he shows you a fragile smile.

A delicate smile is still a smile.

[momodita]

snapshots. [—hirako shinji]

TAGS / WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, comfort,       reader does not like aizen (lmao), light angst WC: 1,000 NOTE: shinji u are everything to me...

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

“Somethin’ interesting up there?”

It is not an insignificant thing for another division’s captain to invite another squad’s subordinate to their quarters. But Shinji was never one for convention and has even less love for etiquette.

“Say, don’t you think it’s time to change out the tatami?” you ask instead of acknowledging his question.

Your back is to him, crouched in a corner of the room—staring at the ceiling. He was penning some kind of letter to Hiyori up until a couple minutes ago, humming to himself every few brush strokes; probably imagining her reactions to the stupid jokes he’s undoubtedly including.

“The time to spring clean has long since passed, ya know,” he drawls. Your head bends. Index finger scratching at a frayed edge, coaxing out the light click and snap of it. Loud in the oppressive quiet of midnight.

“When was the last time these were replaced?” you ask. “They're all discolored and patchy. And look—it’s coming apart.” You flick up a broken thread.

“Don’t pull it apart!” Shinji’s protest falls on deaf ears.

“I bet there’s a bunch of dirt trapped under here, too. I’ve never seen you clean it once.”

“Aizen probably had it done when he was captain.” Shinji waves a hand.

Your lips purse. You pierce a fingernail into the woven mat, testing its durability. There’s no doubt Aizen Sousuke had indeed done some upkeep of this room. You’d once walked by while looking for Hinamori and had taken it upon yourself to peek in—just to see.

Aizen was out working, of course. But his presence was unmistakable in the neatly arranged bookshelves, the futon he kept plump and folded, the desk, the tea set. All of it so neat. Sterile. It was like Shinji had never even lived there at all.

“Well, now you can get it replaced to celebrate your reinstatement,” you say, trying to sound casual around the plucking snap of another ripping thread. “They get musty during the summer.”

“Are ya sayin’ I stink?” he lilts. “There’s better things for us to do than fuss over the floors.” He tosses a crumpled piece of paper at you. It bounces off your shoulder. “And stop wreckin’ the tatami—I really will have to get them replaced.”

“Captain Kuchiki has someone do his—I hear they’re good. Efficient. He probably wouldn’t mind passing their name along—y’could have it done in like, three days tops.”

A pause. Then, Shinji sighs. His footsteps are soft and rhythmic as he crosses the room to slide the shoji doors open. A chill crawls inside. You shiver as it caresses up your uniform.

The Seireitei is at its best under moonlight, when the barracks are quiet and the only chatter is from the cicadas.

But Shinji, at least, is suited for its warm afternoons, when the sun is at its highest and it brings out the color of his hair.

(This insight strikes a familiar memory you keep of him: decades ago, before his disappearance, you would catch him under cloudless summer skies, lounging on the roofs. Perched for friendly, passing small talk; or perhaps to strike one of Hiyori’s many easy nerves. He’d tilt his head to talk to you and the light would catch that sheet of hair, illuminating it into golden strands.

And you, caught by the tempting shape of his profile, would always be coaxed to join. Sitting less than a sword’s length apart, he’d no idea of the longing brewing in your chest—so potent it knocked against each of your ribs.

When you spoke, you wondered if he saw it pouring out of your mouth in vapors like you did; if he was keen enough to spot the lift of your cheeks as you smiled away from him.)

“Something’s on yer mind,” he says, taking a seat beside you. “Don’t even think of hidin’ it from me, either. Got it?”

Much has changed since his disappearance. Not all of it good. You weigh the truth against a white lie. Then settle for something in between.

“Nothing really,” you mumble, drawing your arms across your chest. An absence of birdsong makes you that much more aware of your breath. “Just thinking ahead.”

“Will I have to replace them for the New Year, too?” he jests, leaning back on his hands.

The nostalgia of his posturing and banter stirs an acute yearning in your chest. Dry air stings your sinuses. Moistens your eyes. You think of life in Seireitei before everything. Before rising the ranks. Before Shinji cut his hair. Before Aizen Sousuke.

Before Aizen, you and Shinji would enjoy tea together. Or talk. Or admire the gardens. Before Aizen, you’d stare and stare at Shinji to take your fill of him—to memorize the ugly scrunch of his face as he squinted and the tiny lines by his eyes when he laughed.

“I want every trace of him gone,” you whisper finally, face buried. “I don’t want even a single piece of him left behind. I don’t want to remember him wearing your haori, or sleeping on the same futon, or using your brushes.” The brushes you gifted Shinji to celebrate his promotion. “It makes me sick just thinking about it.” From the specks of dirt to the air in that room, Aizen lingers everywhere he shouldn’t.

Shinji’s gaze is a heavy entity. You feel it on your shoulders—his quips withheld as he considers your words.

“I never took ya for the sentimental type.”

You huff an agitated noise. “It’s revenge. Don’t confuse them. ”

“Revenge for me?” Shinji asks, sounding infuriatingly gleeful.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff, nape prickling—caught. “Revenge for deceiving everyone.” Shinji merely hums. “You had your chance—Hinamori-chan deserves a turn to throttle him.” To that, Shinji doesn’t respond. But what is there to say? The wretched ghosts of your past bend to no one.

“Idiot,” he chides, achingly soft, “there’s nothin’ to worry about.”

(The tatami is replaced by the following week.)

[ineffablesuffering]

There Must Be an Angel (Aziraphale x reader)

I'd like to thank @avocado-writing for the inspo for this fic. They recommended I add this song to my 80s playlist (because I totally forgot this song existed) and this fic was born! I think this is classed as a songfic? I'm not too sure, anyway enjoy! <3

Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader

Warnings: unorganised bookshelves

Word count: 948 (short and sweet, might write a part 2?)

Masterlist

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

“Aziraphale?” you called as you walked through the door of the bookshop, the familiar comforting scent of dust, tea and incense filled your nostrils.

“Ah, Y/N! I was wondering when you would get here,” he said appearing from the back room. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, embracing you.

You gladly returned his embrace “I’m good thank you, how are you?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” he smiled “Shall we get started?”

You had agreed to help Aziraphale organise his books after Jim/Gabriel (you never were sure what to call him) had attempted to sort them in his own unique way. It had been driving him up the wall as he could never find what he was looking for. You were more than happy to help out a friend in need, besides, you enjoyed his company. You nodded and let him show you where he wanted you to start.

“It’s been so frustrating trying to find anything since,” he stopped and sighed “I’m not even going to mention it because it just annoys me. If you want to start here with whatever this is, I’ll start over there,” he pointed to a bookshelf on the other side of the room.

“Sure!” you said cheerfully, “you don’t mind if I listen to some music while I work, do you? Helps me concentrate.”

“Not at all my dear,” he said with a smile, “whatever helps you.” He gave your shoulder a pat before walking off to where he would be working.

You smiled at him as he walked off, pulling your headphones out of your bag and connecting them to your phone. You selected a playlist and got started. The shelves were a disaster zone but at least they were all of the same genre otherwise it would have taken all day to fix whatever was going on. You began by gently taking off all the books from the shelves and placing them on a table nearby before deciding that it would be best to alphabetise by author. Getting stuck in, you bopped along to the music playing on your headphones, singing quietly to yourself every so often. The time passed rather quickly and soon you were on to a new section.

You decided to take the section next to the one where you had started and repeated the process. Taking books of the shelf, placing them on a table and reorganising them. You changed your playlist to an 80’s one and continued to sing along quietly. The smooth sounds of Eurythmics played through your ears. You smiled and continued to work. “I walk into an empty room, and suddenly my heart goes boom, it’s an orchestra of angels and they’re playing with my heart,” you sang.

Aziraphale stopped in the middle of putting a book back on the shelf a few aisles away. He could hear you singing softly to yourself almost as if you didn’t think anyone could hear you. You weren’t singing loudly but it was definitely loud enough for him to hear. He tilted his head slightly, not recognising the song but the fact that you were singing about angels definitely caught his attention. He peaked out from the bookshelf that he was organising and walked around to where you were working.

“I must be hallucinating watching angels celebrating,” you continued to sing.

He stopped when he reached you and stood and watched as you continued to sing softly, not noticing he was standing there. He watched with a soft smile on his lips, you seemed so content organising and singing. You continued to place book by book back on the shelf in an organised manner and he just watched. You started to sing what he assumed to be a different song.

“I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing, I have no choice, I hear your voice feels like flying,” you sang.

Aziraphale leans slightly against the bookshelf just watching you. His eyes danced across your figure as you worked, he felt like he could watch you all day. You turned around ready to start on a new set of shelves and jump at the sight of Aziraphale watching you.

“Jesus Christ!” you said, getting a fright “I didn’t hear you come up behind me, is everything okay?” you laughed taking off your headphones.

Aziraphale chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard you singing, you’ve got a lovely voice.”

You blushed and bashfully dropped your gaze to the ground. You hadn’t realised that you were singing loud enough for him to hear you. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Aziraphale stepped closer to you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him.

“There’s no need to be shy my dear,” he smiles moving his hand from your chin to brush a finger across your cheek, almost appreciating the blush. “It was quite beautiful. Almost angelic.” You stood there, gaping at him. You didn’t know what to say or how to react. “What were you singing darling?” he asked softly, snapping you out of your trance.

“Oh! Um what song?” you asked

“The last two just there.”

“Ah, so that was There Must Be an Angel and then the second one was called Like a Prayer.”  

“Hmm, I see,” he started “fitting do you not think?” Again, you were at a loss for words. What is going on? You thought to yourself. Aziraphale smiled at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tea?” he asked. You didn’t say a word as you found yourself staring at him as he walked away.

[madaqueue]

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 12

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, fluff. 18+, MDNI

word count: 1.3k

a/n: we're in the home stretch y'all aaaAAH

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A week has passed since you and Yuji told each other your true feelings. Things aren't the same, but you wouldn’t want them to be.

You’ve seen him practically every day since then, whether he’s bringing you lunch between classes or spending the night with each other, you feel like you can finally breathe again when he is with you.

“You know,” he says one night while you’re watching TV in his dorm, “eventually you’re gonna have to tell Fushiguro why you kissed him.” He takes a bite of the cereal sitting in his lap.

“Shit, I can’t believe I forgot to do that. I was honestly so caught up with spending time with you I just didn’t think about it,” you respond truthfully.

“Aww, someone got distracted by me?” he teases, leaning his head over onto your shoulder and looking up at you. You push him off with a chuckle. “Hey now, don’t spill my cereal, I only have one set of sheets here and I’m not about to ruin these,” he laughs, that permanent grin spread across his face.

–

The next morning, you figure it’s time to have that conversation with Megumi. You’ll be seeing him in class today, which at least makes the transition a bit easier. Since you and Yuji made up, you've started coming back out of your shell again and allowing your smile to appear more, which Megumi has noticed but hasn’t verbally acknowledged.

When the lecture concludes, you turn to him before packing your things up.

“Hey, are you free right now? I wanted to talk to you about something,” you say, a soft smile on your face.

“Sure,” he responds, “I found a new cafe if you’d want to try that?” After weeks of barely hearing your voice and never seeing you outside of class, your request makes his heart flutter.

“Actually, I would kind of prefer one we’ve already been to before if that’s alright with you?”

“Of course,” he says, a grin now forming on his face. Seeing you smile is enough to light up the room, and he’s just happy to have you back.

–

Megumi sits at a booth as you walk over holding two drinks in your hand. By now you know his order by heart (it does help that it’s just black coffee) and you place the two mugs down in the middle of the table. You’re back where it all started, in the first coffee shop you two ever went together. The high ceilings, bookshelves lining the walls, and warm light feels like coming home.

You take your seat across from him, thinking about just how long it’s been since you were in his presence like this. Seeing him seated across from you, fluffy black hair and all-black clothes, the familiar warm scent of his cologne, you can feel your body relax a tenseness you didn’t know it still held.

Taking a small sip of your latte, your eyes move up to meet his. “How’s your sister?” you ask.

You can tell by the way he opens his mouth and closes it again, his lips curving up into a smile as he pauses, that this was not how he expected you to start this conversation. “She’s good,” he says, a soft grin on his face. “Her surgery finally got rescheduled for later this month, so hopefully things just keep getting better from there.”

“I’m glad to hear it” you respond, your voice genuine. “I was thinking about her, and you, when we weren’t really talking as much, so I just wanted to check how things were going."

His eyes soften as he looks at you. You really do care about him. “Thanks,” he breathes.

A comfortable silence falls between you for a moment as you both slowly drink your coffees.

“So,” Megumi begins, placing an elbow on the table and his chin in his open palm, “what did you want to talk to me about?”

Your body tenses slightly, knowing this is about to be difficult.

Taking in a deep breath, you open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off before you can get anything out. “Is this about when you kissed me?” he asks, a smirk forming on his lips as he cocks his head to the side.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, breaking eye contact to look down at the table. You didn’t expect him to bring it up so easily, and with such…confidence?

“I figured,” he chuckles. “You know, I might not be the smartest guy here, but don’t forget I know you pretty well.” He pauses, taking another sip of his coffee. “My rough timeline was: you see Yuji at the party, you kiss me, you and Yuji fight, you make up, and now we’re here, right?”

Bringing your eyes back up, you scan his face, trying to identify what emotion he’s feeling as he walks you through exactly what happened over the past few weeks. You expect him to feel angry, betrayed, embarrassed, yet all you seem to find is…amusement?

“Mhm,” you nod, “that’s basically everything.”

His smile widens. “See, I told you I know you. If I’m being honest though, I did cheat a little bit - I could hear Yuji listening to sad music very loudly through the door for a while until it stopped about a week ago, so I figured you two made up.”

“And you’re not mad at me?” you ask, trying to hide how much your voice waivers.

“Of course not,” he chuckles. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I see you strictly as a friend. I love hanging out with you and doing all the stuff we do together, but I never felt like I needed more than that. When you kissed me…” he trails off, reaching his free hand up to the back of his hair, “I figured you were just going through some stuff, and it sounds like I was right.”

You exhale, finally feeling the lingering stress about this conversation leaving your body. Your shoulders relax into the seat behind you and you close your eyes for a minute. “Thank you, Megumi,” you finally respond. “I’m really glad to have a friend like you.” A smile rests on your lips.

Turning back towards him, you open your eyes and reach your hand out to his shoulder. Just like the first time you met, he leans his cheek against the back of your hand as he stares at you from across the table, eyes soft. “Any time,” he whispers.

–

Things are…easy, again. You and Yuji’s friends - now your friends - hang out every weekend, going to some party or just playing board games on the floor of one of their dorm rooms. You grow to love Toge, the sweet white-haired boy who brought you drinks at the first party you went to with Megumi and who you learn helped Yuji smuggle in the red wine that ruined one of your dresses. You get to see Maki and Nobara together, watching how Nobara shamelessly plants herself in Maki’s lap whenever she gets a chance or pretends to steal her glasses before gently placing them back on her face with a kiss. You and Megumi still hang out all the time, too, and you even started going farther and farther off campus to search for new cafes to try. Every morning feels like a gift, in part because you get to wake up next to the warmth of your favorite person.

One night after you and Yuji return to your dorm after karaoke with your friends - at which, Nobara did an incredible rendition of Somebody To Love - the two of you are cuddling in your bed when he pulls away for a moment.

He props himself up on an elbow to look at you, his eyelids low as he traces along your hips with his fingers. He’s in nothing but his sweatpants, you in a loose t-shirt and pajama shorts. “You know…” he says, a grin tugging at the corners of his face, the one that he knows you always melt for, “there’s still one thing we didn’t get to practice.”

“Oh yeah?” you tease with a chuckle. “And what’s that?”

His eyes never leave yours, and you notice them darken slightly as he opens his mouth to speak. His voice comes out low, raspy. “I want to fuck you.”

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[slaymitchabernathy]

Hiding & Seeking

“Stop,” she giggles, letting him know she wants nothing more than for him to keep going.

She can feel Coriolanus smile against the delicate skin of her neck, still peppering kisses up and down the column of her throat.

She knows he won’t leave any bruises. Not where others can see at least.

He likes to leave bruises in other places. Her breasts, her ass, right above her cunt.

“All for me,” he’d always drawl.

“All for you,” she’d always whisper.

Right now she’s all his and he’s all hers. Coriolanus gets busy during the week, he’s trying to do a million things at once and that means he can’t always spend time with her.

But Soarynn doesn’t mind. She just sits and waits patiently for him to come see her. Like a doll.

His grip on her waist tightens as she shifts on his lap, “Do you wanna play a game doll?”

Soarynn perks up at the mention of a game. Even though she’ll lose. She always loses to him. She’s horrible at cards, board games are always far too complicated and she despises social games like spin the bottle.

It’s a good thing Coriolanus suggests her favorite game.

“Let’s play hide and seek.”

Soarynn tilts her head, allowing him better access to her neck while she ponders how long she’ll have to hide. Sometimes Coriolanus can be sweet, and he’ll give her five minutes. Sometimes he can be mean, and he’ll give her ten seconds.

“I’ll give you one minute,” he says, as if reading her mind.

Soarynn nods, whimpering when he sucks a little hard than normal, “And I can hide anywhere?”

His hands squeezed her waist so hard she knows there will be bruises, “Anywhere,” he agrees.

It’s only a matter of seconds before he’s pushing her off his lap and she’s bounding down the hallway. Coriolanus has a rather large penthouse and Soarynn’s spent so much time here that she knows all the best hiding spots.

But that means he does too.

Sometimes he’ll stay in whatever room she left him in and wait a full minute. Other times he follows behind her. It’s a chase with him. Always has been, always will be.

It was a chase when he first set eyes on her. She was already his, she just didn’t know it yet. It was a chase to get her to go on a date with him, then another, then another. It wasn’t much of a chase to get her to be his girlfriend. Coriolanus has never had to try too hard with anything he sets his mind to.

Soarynn looks over her shoulder and her heart rate picks up when she locks eyes with her boyfriend. He’s following her, at a casual stroll. A stalk. He’s got that smirk he’s so well known for, his head tilted in amusement as he watches her run down the hallways of his ancestral home.

“Run and hide babydoll,” he croons.

Soarynn takes a right down a smaller hallway, this one leads to a variety of guest rooms and a small parlor.

She goes for the parlor.

There’s an empty fireplace in between two large, heavy mahogany bookshelves. And several arm chairs and a sofa. This room hasn’t been touched in years.

Soarynn hides in the fireplace.

It’s not dirty, she doubts it’s ever been used before. She can hear the telltale click of his shiny leather shoes, slowly making their way down the hallway.

She cranes her neck and watches his shoes disappear into one of the guest rooms. Her heart is beating so fast, like she’s his prey.

Soarynn lets out a small whimper after a few minutes have passed. She can’t hear him anymore which to some might seem like a good thing, but not to her. It means he’s figured it out.

Coriolanus Snow is a quiet and calculated man, carefully choosing when to weigh in on certain things and the same goes for when they play this silly little game.

It means he’s waiting. Waiting for her to make the first move. The first fatal move. He’s waiting for her to mess up. She always does. Always.

Eventually her back begins to hurt from the crouched down position she’s in, and her neck hurts and her feet hurt and she’s going to need to find a new hiding place.

If she can make it back to his bedroom, then she wins. That’s always been the rule with him, if she can slip through his claws and make it back to safety, she wins.

But she’s never won.

Maybe this is my chance, she thinks, slowly crawling out from her hiding spot.

Soarynn's quiet as she tiptoes across the room and sticks her head into the hallway. She looks to the left. No Coriolanus. She looks to the right. No Coriolanus.

She knows she doesn't have much time, that he's probably still in one of the guest rooms searching for her and she wastes no time in quietly padding down the hallway, her feet nearly slipping on the marble floor.

Soarynn's head is on a swivel as she makes her way down the main hallway to his bedroom where she just might win. She's so close she can taste it. The doors are still open. Even better.

A bright smile spread across her face as she reached the doors. Then it drops.

He's sitting on the bed.

His legs are spread, his hands pressed into the mattress as he leisurely looks her up and down as if he has all the time in the world. And he's got that smirk on his face when he sees how surprised she is. How scared she is.

Soarynn doesn't know what to do for a moment. She's frozen. Run, she thinks. She turns on her heel but his commanding voice stops her.

"Don't."

With her head hung low she slowly walks into his bedroom, towards where he's sitting before getting down on her knees in front of him.

Where she belongs.

His large hand comes down and pinches her chin, tilting her head up to look at him, "You did so well this time doll," he says with false sympathy dripping in his voice. His lips curl up further, "Too bad I'm always one step ahead of you hmm?"

If there was a way to describe Coriolanus and Soarynn's relationship, it would be just that. He's always been one step ahead of her.

"I really tried this time," she whispered, her eyes pleading as she looked into his piercing blue ones. Maybe she could get out of this, her punishment.

That's why she despises games. Because there's always a catch with Coriolanus, and if he catches you, then there's always a punishment not far behind.

He nods, "Of course you did," his thumb rubs her bottom lip and she opens her mouth without question, allowing his thumb to slip into her mouth, prying it open like a music box.

Coriolanus loves it when she sings for him.

"But my little doll isn't very smart, is she? Can't get too far without me finding you huh?"

His words hurt, cut through her like glass, pierce her skin like thorns on a rose bush. He's right. She's never been smart, she's always been so naive, so trusting with everyone. Including him. That's why it's so good he found her. At least that's what he tells her.

"No," she whispers, "I'm not very smart."

Coriolanus grunts in approval, his eyes flitting down to his pants where she can see how hard he already is for her. Soarynn thinks he gets off on these little games he likes to play with her. It's foreplay.

It's a mindfuck.

"Are you gonna be good for me and let me use my perfect little doll?"

"Yes."

He's pulling his pants down with haste, freeing his cock from his boxers all while she watches, motionless on her knees. It's not like she isn't used to this. Since they started dating he's always been so...forceful. He likes to make her take it. Watch her cry from overstimulation. Listen to her as she begs him to stop.

Her jaw goes slack the second he grabs his cock, she knows how this goes, how good dolls prepare their mouths for fucking.

Coriolanus is a big man. Everything about him is big. His hands, his teeth, his frame, his cock. It stretches Soarynn's lips as he slowly pushes it into her mouth, his other hand fisting her hair, holding her in place.

Soarynn squeezes her eyes shut as he slowly slides in, preparing for him to hit the back of her throat like he always does before he brutally fucks her throat for all it's worth.

"Open those pretty little eyes for me," he says in a sing-song voice.

Soarynn looks up at him and he slowly rises from the bed, looming over her as his cock sits heavy on her tongue. Her throat is going to be sore tomorrow morning.

It''s alright though, he''ll make her some tea. It's a good thing she has him to take care of her.

Coriolanus wastes no time in thrusting his cock in and out of her throat, listening to her gag as she tries to take his full length. It's a rather difficult task where Soarynn's concerned. Her mouth is small and his cock is big in length and girth. He's quite literally a mouthful and he knows it. Is proud of it. Loves to tease her about it. It's probably his favorite thing to do, teasing her comes so naturally to him. He can do it about anything. Her height, how small she is compared to him, how weak she is compared to him. How she can't live without his fingers in her puffy cunt, how needy she gets, how she can turn into a dog in heat after kissing for too long.

He's right though

"You always take me so well," he grits out, his thrusts becoming faster, his grip on her hair getting tighter. He's close, but that doesn't always mean he'll stop. And all Soarynn can do is sit there and take it.

She looks up at him, tears falling from her eyes, her mascara running down her pretty cheeks. He likes her best like this, pathetic and powerless. She likes it too. Sometimes.

She gags when the tip of his cock presses against the back of her throat, staying there as he finally tips over the edge. Soarynn digs her nails into the skin of her thighs while she tries not to move, tries not to pull herself off of him. She manages for about ten more seconds while his cum shoots down her throat. But then it hurts and he's not moving. Soarynn feels herself gag, then cough but he stays put.

Soarynn lets out a muffled scream, something you could barely hear with his cock shoved down her throat but he hears it. Finally, he lets go and Soarynn sinks to the floor, coughing and hacking, trying to suck in as much air as possible.

Tears fall onto the cold marble floor as she lies there, trying to collect herself. Dolls don't cry after all.

"It's too much," she croaks, looking up at him.

Coriolanus tilts his head as he watches his girlfriend struggle on the floor. He should be helping her, comforting her. "Get on the bed."

Soarynn glances at the bed, her bottom lip trembling before she resigns herself to another night of endless fucking. It's not too terrible, at the beginning at least. The end is where she's sobbing because she swears he's going to rip her apart.

And he sure tries.

He takes her from behind tonight, slipping right into her cunt without as little as prepping her. Why should he when she's always ready for him? Like a good doll should be.

Soarynn moans into the mattress as he pounds into her, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of her every single time. He never fails to make her cum, to make her cry and quake with pleasure.

In the beginning, he'd been so sweet, so slow and patient. Caring. He'd been her first, and the look in his eyes as he slowly slid into her for the first time should've been a warning about how possessive Coriolanus Snow could be. He'd actually been proud when they finished and he found where she'd bled onto his white sheets. He smirked as he swiped a finger between her legs, finding it sticky with cum when he pulled it away, "Now you're covered in me and I'm covered in you," he'd said.

His hand on the back of her head pulls her back to the present where her walls are already tightening, "Is my doll already gonna cum for me? Gonna be my good little fuckdoll and cum all over my cock?"

Soarynn moaned in response, her hips meeting his with every thrust, "Yes! Yes, please, please let me cum, please, please," she cries, so close to her orgasm. But she won't cum until he tells her to do so.

Because she's a good doll.

He chuckles in her ear, "Ready to be filled up? To be stuck on my cock the entire night? I know you love it Soarynn, love being my little sex doll I can do anything with."

Soarynn's eyes roll to the back of her head when she feels his other hand on her clit. It's like he's trying to get her to cum. He's toying with her.

"Please," she gasps, "please, I love it, love being your doll."

She knows he likes it more than she does. Having control. Making her take load after load when he finishes inside of her and he always finishes inside of her. Loves bending her in all sorts of positions, trying to see which one will make her break. Loves bouncing her up and down, seeing how glassy her eyes get while her head lolls back and forth. So dumb with it already.

He sucks on her neck, it's going to bruise. "Cum for me doll, show me what you're good for. Tell me what good fuckdolls do."

Soarynn moans when she reaches her peak, her walls fluttering around his cock as her vision goes white. "They...they do what you tell them to," she gasps, knowing that if she doesn't answer him then it'll be an even longer, more painful night.

He grunts as he spills himself inside of her. The first one of the night she knows. "Your cunt was made for me Soarynn, it's perfect for my cock. No one else will ever fill you up the way I do. Understand?"

Soarynn nods because what else is there to do?

Arguing never works. He knows where to hit to make it hurt, what to say to make it sting. "Fucking stupid slut, good for nothing whore, so easy to dumb down, not a thought behind those eyes."

Those are the words that echo in her mind when she runs away from him. Hides from him. Breaks down and cries.

But then she always comes back to him. Seeks him out. Let him wipe away the years, kiss the bruises, bandage the cuts. That's how their relationship works best.

Hiding & Seeking.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[propertyoftoru]

Something in the Air | L.F

wc: 4.5k

pairing: Lee Felix X Fem!Reader

warnings: smut MDNI, sex pollen AU, felix goes to a witchy apothecary and finds himself in a predicament, Switch!Felix, Switch!Reader, Felix has somewhat of a dom drop, thigh slapping, lots of teasing, felix is kind of a pervert, creampie/mentions of breeding, unprotected sex, tiny bit of choking, dumbification, lots of praise (giving and receiving), just pure filth (i’m sure i missed some stuff)

A/N: This is not proofread. I was so fuckin tired but i really wanted to finish this so i hope you enjoy :>

Lee Felix is a fucking idiot. At Least that's what he repeatedly tells himself as he paces around his apartment. A frustrated groan falling from his lips as he made another lap around his couch, tugging on the ends of his hair painfully. 

He should have known better really, not to trust that shady shop in some desolate corner of town. But he really wanted to get you something special for your birthday and you had a penchant for the more peculiar things. So he asked around and a friend of a friend told him about this witchy apothecary, known for its jewelry and other trinkets. He was so sure he would find something there that would suit you, so when the woman who ran the shop left him unattended while she ran out back he didn't think twice before looking around. He wandered against his better judgment and ended up in some back room that he most definitely should not have entered in hindsight. 

The walls were lined with bookshelves overflowing with hundreds of books, some barely holding together by their bindings and others seemingly brand new. His eyes then fell to the glass cases holding items that he wasn't quite able to identify. Finally he spotted it, certainly out of the ordinary, the leaves being a strange purple color with red veins. But the flowers are what caught his eye, the delicate white with swirls of lilac and pink. He was certain you would adore them, despite not really being a flower person he knew you would appreciate their peculiarness. He had to be sure they smelled as pretty as they looked before he bothered asking the kind woman how much they cost. So when he carefully opened the glass and leaned in to inhale deeply, he was almost startled by how potent the scent really was. It was like his hand had a mind of its own as he reached out to touch the petals, noticing the purple powder that was now dusting his fingers. Felix jerked away when the woman spoke from behind him shaking her head with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Oh sugar, you're in for a long night.” 

His head was spinning as you continued to speak “Binnie made me workout with him...” He could practically picture you pouting with your arms crossed over your chest. “He’s being so mean Lixie! Tell him to let me leave so I can come over and stuff my face full of your sweets.” Normally Felix would’ve chuckled at that but the idea of you being around him right now sent him into a goddamn spiral. The metaphorical alarms were blaring in Felix’s head telling him that under absolutely no circumstances could he let you come over. 

Felix had already been fighting his natural urges to cuddle the ever living hell out of you every time he saw you for months now, and that was putting things lightly. He would never admit outloud the amount of times he’s fisted his cock to the cute selfies you would send him. He would certainly rather die than ever admitting to stealing your panties when hanging out at your apartment, just to rush home and fuck into them until he was a drooling and whimpering mess.

In his current state there was no doubt in his mind that he would get on his knees and beg for you to use him. He wouldn't be able to stop himself from telling you just how obsessed he was with you.  So when he spoke again he was sure he had a masochistic streak but he just needed to see you.

“Tell Changbin I need you for something. It's important.” If you replied he didn’t hear it because he quickly hung up and flung his phone onto the counter with a loud clatter. 

He made quick work of stripping his clothing off as he rushed to his bathroom, turning on the shower to a freezing temperature. He prayed to any god that would listen that his body temperature would go down, but as his eyes landed on his painful erection he knew that his prayers would go unanswered. He reached out a timid hand to gently drag his fingertips along his shaft, his other hand flying out to stabilize himself against the wall. His throat tightened and warmth bloomed across his chest and down his abdomen at the small touch. He hesitantly wrapped his hand around himself, squeezing harshly and slowly moving up and down. He nearly sobbed at the speed his orgasam approached, his thighs trembling, eyes clenched tight, as he came all over his fist and the shower floor. When he realized his erection showed no signs of going away he did sob. He quickly washed up avoiding touching his sensitive cock as much as he could before throwing on the loosest sweats he owned. 

Fast forward to now as he continued to pace around his living room awaiting your arrival. He wasn't even sure you were actually coming or not having not looked at his phone since he hung up on you. Part of him hoped that you would just go back to your apartment and question his odd behavior the next time you hung out. But a much larger part of him desperately hoped you would come, because even your presence would soothe him if not the tiniest bit. 

A rhythmic knocking on his front door signaled your arrival, he recognized the knocking pattern to be the one that only you ever used. As he made his way to his door he swiftly reached down to tuck himself under the waistband of his pants, quietly whimpering at the pressure but anything was better than the obvious tent it presented. As he swung the door open you immediately took notice of his disheveled appearance. The splotches of red across his chest and collarbones, his hair sticking up in different directions seemingly from being pulled on, and his bottom lip red and swollen from being chewed on. Your eyebrows shot up as you took in the sight of him your mouth hanging open slightly.

“Uh… is this a bad time?” You fought the urge to peek over his shoulder to check for who might’ve turned him into the pretty mess in front of you. “If you have someone over I can just come over tomorrow.” His eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he reached up to his forehead to swipe away the sweat coating his skin. Your eyes dropped to the way the fabric of his thin tank top swayed, exposing his sides when he moved. But your attention was quickly drawn to his nipples poking through the fabric and the way his chest seemed to heave with every breath he took. 

“No, there's nobody here.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously “I was just… My air conditioning broke! It's just really hot in here!” He laughed nervously before moving aside gesturing for you to come in. You took note of the fact that the temperature was completely normal and that you could hear the faint hum of his air conditioner but you chose not to mention it. 

“Are you sure everything is okay Lixie?” Your back was to him so you missed the way his eyes squeezed shut at the nickname. He pulled in a quick breath before faking a smile when you turned to face him. “Yep! Everythings totally fine!” 

You hesitated a bit but gave him a nod before making your way into his living room, plopping down on his couch. “Hey, do you mind if I take a quick shower before we do anything? I’m still all gross from the torture that Binnie calls a workout.” Felix’s head felt like it was gonna explode at the thought of you showering in the very same shower that he just jerked off in not even 20 minutes ago. Still he nodded and offered you a pair of his clothes to change into once you were finished. 

Once he heard the water turn on he bit down on his knuckle harshly, his mind going wild at the idea of you naked on the other side of the wall. He started his pacing again as he fought the urge to touch himself, his cock still painfully throbbing against his hip. He decided to change into basketball shorts, his sweatpants suddenly way too hot for him to be wearing.

As he made his way down the hall he noticed the bathroom door cracked open, the heat and the steam from your hot shower making its way through the opening. Felix’s poor heart felt like it was going to stop as he stared at the door. Did you just accidentally not close it all the way? How did you not notice it wasn’t closed? And why didn't you lock the door behind you? He didn’t even realize he had moved forward until his hand made contact with the handle of the door, about to nudge it open. He quickly jerked his hand back and internally scolded himself for being such a pervert. But in his moment of weakness the thought of just a tiny peek didn't seem so horrible.You would never find out right? He just needed a little glimpse, just something to help him get through the intense jerking off he was planning on doing once you left. So when he reached his hand out and carefully nudged the door open he certainly didn't expect to see you standing under the water staring back at him with an evil smirk plastered on your lips. He yelped and began to stumble over his words trying to offer you something between an apology and an explanation. But much to your amusement the entire time he was rambling his eyes were greedily raking over your naked body.

You smiled to yourself as you thought that your bold action of leaving the door cracked open just might have paid off. When you noticed Felix was so out of it upon your arrival you tried to get a closer look at him as you walked past him. The subtle bulge near his hip gave him away and you hoped that if you played your cards just right maybe tonight would finally be the night that your friendship blossomed into something more. 

“You forgot to tell me where the towels are Lixie” you reached to turn off the water before making your way to stand directly in front of him. You could almost see his brain malfunctioning as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. He quickly bent down and grabbed a towel out of his cabinet before practically shoving it into your hands. 

You gave him a soft smile before saying thank you and beginning to dry off like normal but when you looked back you saw Felix still standing there like he was glued to that spot. Whatever kind of internal war was happening inside his brain you quickly interrupted by reaching out and touching his cheek.  

“Maybe I could thank you properly?” He opened his mouth to reply but quickly shut it before nodding eagerly.

“Words baby…” You stroked your thumb over his bottom lip and tugged it down gently before releasing it. “I need words” Felix swore he must've fallen and hit his head because there's no way that this was real. But when you said his name with a gentle yet stern tone he realized that this was real and this was happening and he was just standing there like an idiot. 

“Yes p-please” Felix couldn't bring himself to care how pathetic he sounded and thankfully it only seemed to spur you on further. 

A smile stretched its way across your lips as you raked your fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging his head back harshly. “Let me show you just how thankful I am Lixie” You mumbled against this throat as you ghosted kisses across the skin there. You heard him choke back a strained whimper as you nipped gently at the spot behind his ear. As you pulled away to scold him for holding back the loud gasp followed by a needy high pitched whine at your absence told you it wouldn't take much more for him to completely fall apart. 

You continued your kisses down his neck and across his collarbones, being sure to pull back every so often to gently blow over the wet areas. Felix’s knees felt like they were going to give out any second and with the way his head was spinning he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't going to faint. You felt him cautiously take your hips in his hands and hold onto them for dear life, and he hoped you wouldn't be upset with him for touching you without permission. 

“B-Bedroom… please.. I-” He cut himself off with another gasp as you pressed against his bulge with your palm, a faux sympathetic look taking over your features. “You can wait just a little longer, can't you baby?” You continued to lightly squeeze him through his sweats as you kissed across his chest. “ Wanna keep playing with you some more.” You kitten licked his nipple before taking it in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it, nibbling on it gently. The sounds leaving Felix were pure sin, a mixture of your name with high pitched whines and low groans.

“So pathetic Lixie… I’ve hardly touched you and your a fucking mess for me” You giggled at the way his moans only seemed to increase at your taunting.

When you applied more pressure to his aching cock along with the work of your busy mouth on his nipples his poor body just couldn't take it any more. His knees buckled and his brain turned to mush as you pushed him backwards to pin his hips between you and the bathroom counter. You helped lift him up onto the counter as he wrapped his arms around your neck and he pouted down at you. Tears were pooling in his eyes and his lips were swollen and glossy from him chewing on them.

“Pleasepleaseplease…” Felix’s hips started to roll against you as you held on to him tightly, allowing him to relieve some of the pressure that had been building between his thighs. A deep groan ripped from his throat as you began sucking marks into his chest while he continued to grind into you. You could feel the wetness of his precum seeping through the fabric of his pants and you let out an appreciative hum as you looked down to see the dark patch. “Feel good baby?” He nodded against the crook of your neck where he was drooling and nibbling at the skin gently. “Mhm…want more.. please touch me more”  

“Such a good boy lixie hmm? So polite for me” You slipped your hand under the elastic of his pants, taking him in your hand and feeling him throb against your palm. “Good boys deserve to be rewarded.” Felix was practically sobbing into your neck now, the feeling of you finally touching his cock overwhelming him instantly. As you began to twist your wrist gently and brush your thumb over his slit his cries only got louder mixed with babbles about how good you made him feel and him begging you not to stop. Somewhere in the mix of his rambling you heard him choke out that he was close so you sped up just enough along with your lips mouthing at his neck to send him flying over the edge. His thighs trembled as he came in his sweatpants and he was gasping for air as you continued to stroke him into oversensitivity. His hands shot out to gently nudge your hand away “t-too much p-please… I just need a s-second” so you continue to place gentle kisses along his throat and across his chest as you let him come down from his high, being sure to whisper sweet praises about how good he did for you. 

When he finally pulled away you noticed how dark his eyes were, pupils still blown and suddenly that innocent and needy glint was replaced with something else entirely. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like squirming so you looked down to try and avoid it but your jaw dropped when you saw him still straining against his pants. 

“How are you still hard?” You asked in slight disbelief but mostly just pure shock. Felix didn't respond but instead slid off of the counter, walking you backwards until you were the one pressed up against the wall. His pointer finger slid under your chin tipping your head up until you met his eyes again.

“Listen to me sweetheart” He paused to slide his palms under your thighs and lift you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I don't know why the hell my cock wont calm the fuck down but..” He began to walk you both towards his bedroom where he all but tossed you onto his mattress. “You're gonna be a good girl and take everything I give you until it does yeah?”

He made quick work of ripping his clothes off, his angry red cock slapping against his stomach, before he was crawling over you. You nodded eagerly attempting to reach your hands out to wrap around his shoulders but he was quick to grab them and pin them back to the mattress. He leaned down and brought his lips next to your ear “Don’t you think you were greedy enough earlier? You had your chance to touch all you wanted and you chose to be a fucking tease instead.” The way he snarled the words harshly had you attempting to clench your thighs together but his own thigh lodged between yours, just barely brushing against your cunt.

“Don't worry kitty I'll make sure to fuck you until youre sobbing and begging me to stop just like you had me.” The rapid switch in dynamics left your head buzzing and your heart pounding with excitement. You whined and bucked your hips forward trying to reach his thigh, desperate for any kind of friction or touch. Despite how much you teased him earlier you desperately wanted him inside of you, to be as close as possible to him. 

When you continued to whine and squirm underneath him he raised an eyebrow at you. “You had so much to say earlier and now youre so quiet…Cat got your tongue kitty?” His condescending chuckle pulled another whine from you. “Please Lixie… n-no more teasing just want you to ruin me.” You were slurring your words, practically drunk on lust, on top of the way your eyes were hooded and your lips were poking out in a pout Felix had no choice but to fold. He would take his time to dom you properly another day but right now you're both just as desperate for this to happen.  

As he brought his hand down to your soaking cunt he kept his eyes locked on yours mumbling “Gonna take care of you pretty girl” and “gotta get you nice and ready for my cock yeah?” He began dragging his middle finger through your folds gathering some of the wetness and bringing it up to your clit. You couldn't help but buck your hips at the sensation even with his other hand pressing down on your abdomen to hold you in place. Your whines got louder as he began to circle your hole with his finger. You were about to complain when he finally pushed it in immediately curling upwards and searching for the spot that would make you see stars. He started out slow and teasing but eventually sped up after adding a second finger. Starting to scissor them and rocking them upwards, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit, the combination quickly bringing you close. 

“Feels so good lixie” you tried bucking your hips again to get even more friction and you earned a harsh slap to your inner thigh. The stinging sensation mixed with the pleasure his fingers were bringing you tipped you over the edge as you creamed around his fingers. Your high pitched moans and grunts drove Felix crazy as you sucked his fingers deeper into your cunt. 

“Such a greedy little pussy baby” he finally pulled his fingers out to suck your them clean before leaning down to attach his lips to yours. It was the first time you had kissed since this all began and it made your head spin in a completely different way. You could taste yourself on his tongue and lips and that made you whimper into his mouth. He dropped his hand in between your bodies and guided his cock to your drenched cunt. He slid it back and forth between your folds a few times to coat himself in your wetness before lining himself up. He captured your lips in another delicate kiss as he sheathed himself inside of you in one swift thrust. Capturing every gasp and moan that attempted to leave your mouth with his lips, drinking in each one hungrily. The contrast of his soft lips kissing you gently and his rough hips snapping into you forcefully making your headspin. 

“Take my cock so well baby. Fuck.” He was mumbling into your neck now telling you how pretty you were and how good you were being for him. All you could do was sit there and take what he gave you, your mouth hanging open with drool slipping past your lips, too fucked out to even care. 

“Gonna fucking ruin you.” He slapped your thigh again.

“Fuck you so good that you’ll never even think about anyone else ever again.” His hand was sliding to wrap around your throat now, applying just enough pressure on the sides to make your head feel fuzzy. 

“Gonna breed this cute little cunt until it's stuffed full of my cum.” His pace increasing but not losing the force behind each thrust. 

“So fucking good letting me use you like this. But you love this don't you? Taking my cock like it's what you were meant to do.” More kisses, some on your lips while some were just around your mouth and scattered across your cheeks. You just hummed in response loving the affection and praise you were getting.

The combination of his filthy mouth, with his powerful thrusts, and his gentle kisses quickly had the knot in your stomach forming again and you could feel your legs begin to tremble against his sides. 

“Wrap your legs around me baby… that's it…fuck… just like that.” With your legs wrapped around his waist he was hitting even deeper inside of you and your cunt seemed impossibly tighter.

You so badly wanted to wrap your arms around his waist and sink your nails into the skin of his back but you tightly gripped the sheets under you trying to ground yourself. “Want you to cum around me, pretty girl. Can you do that for me hm? Cum around my cock like a good girl?” His voice was strained and his arms were trembling next to your head as his third orgasam of the night began its approach. You nodded and whined hoping he would give you the tiny bit of friction on your clit you needed to reach your high. Like he could read your mind his hand made its way between your bodies and began to rub gentle circles into your clit. Your orgasam twice as intense as the first one violently washed over you. You squeezed your eyes shut as you spasmed around his length that was still pounding into you. 

The sounds of your wetness and your squeals of oversensitivity filled the room and Felix found himself following shortly after you as you continued to milk his cock. He allowed himself to collapse on top of you after he emptied himself into you, careful to position his weight so it wouldn't hurt you.

His cock was still hard but his brain felt like mush and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. He noticed the way your hands remained by your sides and he suddenly felt more desperate for your touch than ever before. 

“Baby?” He whimpered against your chest. You hummed in reply too fucked out to even attempt to talk.

“Want you to hold me please…Miss your touch already.” The way he asked so timidly had your hands flying to his hair and back, one hand scratching gently at his back and the other ranking through his sweaty locks. 

“Did so good lixie.” He hummed happily at the contact and your words, nuzzling into you further. “Took such good care of me” 

You both just laid there for a while soaking in each other's presence and attempting to gather more energy to help Felix deal with his problem. Tomorrow you would talk about where this left you two but for tonight you would help Felix get this out of his system and Felix would enjoy every ounce of attention he got from you.

[judyprincess]

Too Pink For me- Logan Howlett + 18

03: First Canva

Hello, my little readers! Just a heads up that for those who have already read Chapter 1, it now includes an illustration where I've shown the real design of Rosellina so you can have a better idea. As an illustrator, I'll be creating illustrations for each chapter, or at least most of them, featuring the most important scenes.

Kisses, Judy. ✨️

ilustratation of the first chapter: Ororo (storm) and Rosellina, frst meet:

________________________________________

Logan's strange behavior lingered in Rosellina's thoughts for a while.

What a peculiar man, she thought as she followed Ororo, keeping her in sight through the corridors.

Even so, Logan's roughness toward her wasn't enough to dampen her curiosity. She gazed around the mansion in awe, her eyes gleaming as they explored every corner, anticipating the spaces ahead thanks to her keen vision. She could hear laughter and teachers giving lessons as she passed by a classroom. Many walls were bare, and she couldn't resist the urge to imagine them filled with color, though the mansion held its own charm in its old, stately architecture.

Nervously, she fidgeted with her hands and occasionally smoothed her dress, as if trying to fix some crease or imperfection. Ororo glanced back over her shoulder, smiling at her reactions.

"Relax," Ororo said softly, her voice warm with reassurance. "Aside from Logan, I can promise you everyone will like you."

"Thank you, it's just... I've never lived with so many people before, or been around this much company," Rosellina replied quickly, flashing a small, embarrassed smile as she quickened her pace to walk beside Ororo.

Ororo felt a pang of sympathy, a dull ache forming a knot in her throat. She had seen so much over the years-most mutants who grew up alone were shunned, filled with so much anger, so much pain, that it often turned them away from kindness.

But Rosellina was different. She had grown up in a place where people adored her, yet still, she was alone. Why did she seem so happy? Ororo wondered. She was so full of color.

"This is the professor's office. He's eager to meet you," Ororo said with a smile as she opened the door.

Ororo pushed what seemed like a part of the wall, revealing a large, spacious office adorned with bookshelves and ancient artifacts. In the center stood a grand polished wooden desk, and behind it sat the man Rosellina had been told about-the head of the school, Charles Xavier.

"Buongiorno, Rosellina."

Rosellina blinked in surprise, realizing his lips hadn't moved. No, that greeting had come from inside her head.

"Buongiorno, signore. Are you... in my mind?"

She responded through her thoughts, confused, and Charles couldn't help but let out a small, amused smile.

"I believe you've just discovered my ability," he replied, and Rosellina's surprise quickly turned into a wide, excited smile.

She had known about other mutants, but seeing someone with such incredible abilities was astonishing.

"That's amazing, signore," she laughed softly, her excitement shining through. It was written all over her face, the joy of discovering the powers of others. Strangely enough, it made her feel at home.

"Well, I don't think mine could be better than yours," Charles remarked, entering the subject of abilities.

"Your father told me you possess great talents, capable of captivating even the most skeptical person," he said, stepping closer to Rosellina, echoing what her father had said about her. "Not to mention your remarkable beauty," he added kindly, meeting Rosellina's gaze.

Rosellina didn't fully express herself-not out loud, at least. But her heart was so treacherous, so talkative and nervous, sending those hopeful thoughts and desires straight to her mind.

Does he really think that? Does my father truly think that about me?

Rosellina thought, a small, betraying glimmer of emotion appearing in her eyes.

Charles couldn't help but feel a surge of sympathy. He let out a soft chuckle, charmed by her reactions. He could see everything going on in her mind, and he had never sensed a mind quite like hers-constantly walking along a path of flowers. Her thoughts were so beautiful, her desires so sincere. There was no anger, no pain, nothing negative to be found within her. At least, not while the persistent sunlight kept the storm at bay, a storm that never seemed to come.

"Would you allow your emotions to show me what I'm sensing in your mind?"

The older man asked gently. Rosellina nodded and made a graceful bow.

"It would be my pleasure."

Charles found himself drawn to her eyes, those bright emeralds that seemed to grow more intense the deeper he gazed into them. Before he realized it, they were no longer in the office-they were standing in a field of flowers. Charles looked around, feeling the breeze, the warmth of the sun. Even his mind was conjuring the scents that filled the air. In all his years of encountering mutants, he had never seen anything like this. He was amazed. Of all the mental powers he had witnessed, this was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful and exotic.

A delighted smile spread across his face as he turned to Rosellina, who stood before him, smiling softly. He nodded several times.

"You have truly remarkable eyes. I can see why your father speaks so proudly of you."

He didn't hesitate to let his words drift toward her on the wind, and Rosellina smiled proudly, nodding in return. His words filled her with such joy that Charles could see a glow in her hair, as it seemed to deepen into a more vibrant pastel pink.

Outside the illusion, Ororo leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smiling as she watched Charles, lost in the beautiful vision Rosellina was showing him.

Rosellina felt the urge to cry, but out of happiness. Ordinary people didn't know about her powers, only her talent for painting. Hearing such kind, warm words, as comforting as the sun in her beloved homeland, and knowing that her father spoke of her so fondly despite their distance, filled her heart.

She had never thought her father didn't love her-quite the opposite. Despite her loneliness, there had never been room in her small heart for negative feelings toward the man whose presence was so often absent. His letters were always so brief, containing only the necessary information. But to know that he truly thought of her, cared for her, and spoke of her so genuinely beyond his written words, was deeply comforting. Rosellina looked up slightly, trying to stop the tears from betraying her joyful eyes. The illusion broke with that movement.

"Don't cry, my dear," Charles said with an understanding tone. "There will be better moments worthy of those happy tears," he assured her. "We will take good care of you."

The Italian girl turned to him respectfully and nodded.

"I believe your words..." she said softly.

Rosellina took her time explaining her abilities to Charles, or at least what she knew about them so far. Charles made small notes and deductions as he listened. She did her best to give him demonstrations of what her eyes could do, though some abilities she mentioned weren't always under her control. These were the most important to Charles, as Rosellina, being a mutant who directly affected the mind, needed to understand the full extent of her powers and learn to control them responsibly as soon as possible.

In the end, it was agreed that Rosellina would take lessons with Charles, sometimes alongside Jean, who was still learning to master her own abilities.

"Rosellina," he called.

"Yes, signore?"

"You have extensive knowledge of languages, art, and history thanks to your photographic memory," he began, introducing his proposal. "Since you'll be taking some classes with me a few days a week, I would like to offer you the opportunity to teach the younger students. I believe no one is more qualified in the arts than you," he finished, presenting his offer fully.

"Huh? You want me to teach at the school?"

Rosellina wasn't opposed to the idea but was clearly surprised by the suggestion. Charles nodded slightly, confirming her question.

"Not only can you teach them with words, but you have the ability to show them far beyond what they can imagine," Charles continued, giving her more confidence. "I'm sure the children would love your classes."

Rosellina felt a small wave of excitement. Art was what she was most passionate about, out of everything she had learned from her books. The idea of teaching it to the younger students filled her with a sense of joy.

"Well, I suppose... I could try," she said timidly, fidgeting with her hands.

"You'll do great," Ororo chimed in, offering even more encouragement.

Feeling a bit more confident, Rosellina nodded and looked at Charles.

"I'll do it," she said with a more assured smile.

Charles nodded, pleased that she had accepted without any hesitation.

"After this weekend, you can start at your own pace. Ororo will introduce you to the other teachers and help you with your schedule," he said, glancing toward Ororo, who nodded in agreement.

Rosellina listened carefully, and just as Ororo was about to mention the tour of the facilities, Charles interrupted her, seemingly anticipating her kind offer.

"Logan will show you around tomorrow. I believe you've already met."

Charles remarked calmly, looking at his papers, fully aware of Ororo's glances from behind Rosellina. The weather mutant was silently mulling over all the potential issues with this unexpected choice of host for the Italian, hoping Charles might read her mind.

But it seemed Charles had chosen to block out any psychic interference-or perhaps he was simply ignoring her entirely.

"I think that-"

"I'll also ask him to show you the mansion's attic. I'd like you to have that space in case you ever want to work on your paintings in peace."

Charles interrupted Ororo again, as though he weren't hearing her mental complaints about the situation.

"I don't want to be a bother..." Rosellina murmured with a nervous laugh, recalling her recent encounter with Logan.

Of course, she wasn't going to tell Charles what had happened-perhaps he already knew. She wasn't sure. But she wasn't going to be the one to refuse the offer either. She didn't have any real issue with Logan; she found him more curious than anything else.

"Nonsense, he'll be delighted," Charles assured her, resting his chin in his hands and looking at her with a warm smile.

Ororo raised an eyebrow at Charles's comment, struggling to keep her thoughts about his statement to herself.

On the other hand, Rosellina, somewhere in his words, could almost swear there was a hint of mischief. She mentally shook her head; this man seemed like nothing but a kind soul to everyone.

"Well, if Logan is willing..." Rosellina said, not wanting to contradict Charles any further.

He knows him better than I do, right?

She thought to herself, not wanting to dwell too much on something that was probably just a misunderstanding.

"Great, I'm glad we all agree on this," Charles said, nodding in approval.

"Professor-"

Charles cut Ororo off before she could even voice her complaints, as if he had anticipated her every move.

"I've asked Rogue to take you to your room, as it's next to hers on the second floor," he added, completely ignoring Ororo's look of disbelief. "I believe you've already met her; if not, she's delightful, and you'll get along well."

Ororo stared at Charles, looking like she was about to explode. She knew very well who was on the other side of Rogue's room.

"Rogue?"

Rosellina tried to recall if Rogue was the girl with the striking silver streaks from the entrance.

"She's waiting for you by the stairs, don't take too long. I'm sure you're very tired from your trip, you should go rest and eat something," Charles suggested cheerfully, motioning with his hand for her to leave the room and meet the other girl.

Rosellina blinked several times before nodding her head gratefully.

"Yes, of course. I think I could use some sleep," she said, still sounding nervous. The situation felt strange and curious to her. Yet her innocent heart only led her to believe she was overthinking it and that the man was simply being kind and charitable. Besides, she would be lying if she said she wasn't already feeling sleepy after her long flight from Italy, where she hadn't slept a wink.

"Thank you so much for your kindness," she added before turning and giving Ororo a friendly wave as she left.

Ororo didn't even have time to say anything before Rosellina had already exited the room.

"Were you saying something, Storm?" Charles asked as if the woman hadn't been trying to interrupt for the past 10 minutes.

Ororo looked at him in disbelief.

"Is your telepathy failing you, Professor?"

"I think it's working just fine, if you ask me," he replied disinterestedly, returning his focus to his papers.

Ororo could almost feel the mockery from where she stood.

"Professor, normally I don't question your decisions, but I'm not sure you made the right choice. I could've done the tour, or Hank," she expressed, placing one hand on her hip in frustration over the choice of candidate for the simple task.

"Are you worried about Logan's behavior at the entrance?" Charles mentioned, to which Ororo raised both eyebrows indignantly.

"Oh, so you do know what happened. All the more reason for me to object," Ororo said, not holding back her feelings.

"You're worrying too much, Storm. You're bringing the storm faster than you should," Charles dismissed the matter lightly.

"Professor, Logan doesn't like Rosellina. Not even the charm of the girl had any effect on him. They're from completely different worlds," Ororo expressed her concerns.

"Besides, you know very well that this is the kind of thing Logan hates doing the most. He'll only have more reasons not to like Rosellina. Knowing him, he'll refuse and say Scott should do it, claiming it's not his job."

She concluded, laying out everything that could go wrong, while Charles simply continued looking at his papers, unfazed. After a moment, he set the papers aside and looked at Ororo, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh, believe me, he'll agree. One way or another."

Ororo looked confused.

"Besides, Logan needs a little color and joy in his life. All he ever thinks about is war and the blood of the past. Maybe Rosellina will finally bring him some good cheer."

"Allow me to doubt that," Ororo murmured under her breath, turning her head away and shaking it.

Unaware of the conversation, Rosellina met Rogue at the stairs just as Charles had indicated.

"You must be Rogue," Rosellina said with a kind smile.

Rogue didn't hesitate to return the smile with equal warmth.

"Yes. Sorry for not introducing myself earlier, I see Storm was eager to get you to the professor," she said, a little embarrassed for not having mentioned her name sooner. "Shall we go up?"

"Of course."

Rosellina noticed that her luggage was no longer there, remembering that Jean had mentioned earlier that everything would be arranged in her room. Without further delay, Rosellina followed Rogue upstairs.

"Storm...did you mean Ororo?"

Rosellina asked, curious after hearing a nickname for the woman she had initially known as Ororo.

"Oh, yes. Right, you wouldn't know." Rogue chuckled at the small situation. "Mutants tend to give each other nicknames, usually when we become part of the X-Men, it's like... you know, superhero aliases."

Both of them laughed as Rogue gestured dramatically when saying "superhero."

"Got it," Rosellina said, now understanding the reasoning behind the nickname. It made sense-during the flight to America, Ororo and Jean had talked about their abilities. To Rosellina, Ororo's ability to control weather seemed unique. It wouldn't surprise her if she was one of the most powerful mutants in the school.

"Even I go by the name Rogue," the girl with the white streaks mentioned, glancing at her.

"I see... Does that mean I should too?"

"Oh no, not at all. It's completely up to you. Not everyone has to have one," Rogue quickly intervened to avoid any pressure on the Italian. "Besides, if I had a name as beautiful as yours, I wouldn't hide it. It sounds like a princess's name."

Rogue openly complimented Rosellina, and she felt the blush rise to her cheeks. Rosellina was used to hearing people murmur about her, always from afar, under gazes filled with admiration but fearful of being overheard by the subject of their admiration. People always showed her a respect she hadn't asked for, as if they felt unworthy of saying such words openly without her permission. This custom, shaped by an old-fashioned and distant village, likely made her more susceptible to such unexpected, open, and sincere compliments.

Deep down, though, they filled her heart, but her cautious and shy nature kept her humble in front of those who praised her. After all, she wasn't someone worthy of such words that could easily inflate a person's ego, or was she?

It was something she would always debate with herself.

"What is your name?" Rosellina asked, wanting to know the real name behind her companion. "Your real name."

Rogue hesitated, sighing slightly. But Rosellina gave her a sense of trust that she couldn't quite explain, as if she wanted to tell her everything. In the end, she relented.

"Anna Marie D'Ancanto," she finally said.

Rosellina's lips stretched into a smile, and her eyes sparkled slightly.

"You say mine sounds like a princess, but yours sounds like a countess from my beloved Europe in its younger years."

For the first time, Rogue felt that her name was beautiful. She smiled, looking at the ground as they continued walking toward the rooms.

"You're very kind, Rosellina," she said later, glancing at her with eyes full of gratitude. "And I like your Italian accent, it's refreshing."

Rosellina laughed at the compliment.

"Well, I think... Italian speaking habits are hard to shake."

"Do you do the gesture when you talk?"

Rosellina turned, confused.

"Gesture?"

Rogue suppressed a laugh, biting her lips, unsure if it was appropriate or rude to ask, but her curiosity got the better of her.

"You know, the gesture." Rogue brought her fingertips together and moved her wrist up and down, mimicking the famous Italian hand gesture.

Rosellina's eyes widened in realization, and she couldn't help but burst into a sweet laugh. She hadn't known that the gesture was so famous on the other side of the planet. It was a pretty common gesture when someone saw something slightly odd and wanted to question the person about it. But it was actually a very versatile gesture.

"Oh, you mean la pigna," Rosellina tried to stop laughing. "It has a history, believe it or not-it's said to come from ancient Greece."

She explained, maybe because, to most people, it was a rather amusing gesture to watch.

"We don't use it for everything..." she said, not really noticing her hands while speaking. "I think."

Rogue was dying to one day see that gesture naturally come out of Rosellina-it seemed like European culture was deeply ingrained in her.

"Did I do something wrong this morning?... It seems like Logan hates me," Rosellina blurted out after a while, once they reached the door of the room. She didn't want to dwell on the matter, but after all, Ororo had told her not to take it personally. Still, she'd never had an encounter like that before.

Rogue held back a smile, as if she had been waiting for this topic.

"I don't really think he hates you; it's possibly the opposite-you're very beautiful. Even he must have noticed," she explained, trying to avoid a misunderstanding.

"Do you think so?" Rosellina responded, not entirely convinced.

"Normally, Logan is like a caged lion in the mansion; he can't sit still. He tends to get grumpy easily, but don't worry. You just caught him at a bad time," Rogue encouraged Rosellina not to avoid her interactions with Logan. Rosellina nodded at her words-maybe it was just as Rogue said. After all, she seemed to know him well.

"Are you two close?"

"You could say so. I promise he's not a bad guy," Rogue assured.

They were just about to finish their conversation when they heard footsteps and saw Logan approaching his room, which was to the left of Rogue's and across from Rosellina's. Rosellina fidgeted with her hands.

I don't think he's still mad at me.

She thought as the man stopped, looking at both of them before specifically addressing Rogue.

"I don't want any slumber parties, Rogue. My hearing is very sensitive," Logan said, seeing them in the hallway.

"Logan, Rosellina's room is this one. The professor said it'd be fine if she stays next to mine," Rogue replied with an innocent smile, as if she herself hadn't asked Charles if Rosellina could take the empty room across from hers.

"What?"

Logan looked baffled by the revelation.

"Is this a joke?"

"No."

A heavy silence followed before Logan glanced at Rosellina with that stern look again.

"I'm no trouble. I'm very quiet, I promise I won't disturb you," Rosellina assured in a second attempt to be kind.

Maybe they had just started off on the wrong foot.

"Of all the rooms in the damn mansion..." Logan muttered under his breath.

Rosellina blinked several times. What was his problem?

"Don't be so grumpy, Logan," Rogue teased, lightly punching his arm with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"Too much pink for me," Logan grumbled before turning around. "I need a beer," he muttered to himself as he walked away. He didn't even give Rosellina or Rogue a chance to say anything else before disappearing again.

"What were you saying?" Rosellina asked with a sigh of mild frustration, referencing Rogue's earlier claim that Logan didn't hate her.

"Well, I must say I don't understand that attitude," Rogue admitted, confused by Logan's dislike of Rosellina, though she found the situation amusing. She had never seen anyone put Logan in such a bad mood with so few words. The only one with that natural talent was Scott.

"Anyway, don't worry about that now-you look tired," Rogue suggested, encouraging her to head into her room and rest.

"I have so many more questions, but the professor said you needed sleep, so I'll give you your space," she added, signaling a farewell that would last until the next day when they'd see each other again.

Rosellina smiled widely and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, thank you so much for everything, Rogue."

Rosellina always emphasized the "R" in Rogue's name, something that Rogue found endearing. Her unique accent brought Rogue joy whenever she said her name. For Rogue, it was undoubtedly the beginning of a friendship.

"I barely did anything, no need to thank me. We'll see each other tomorrow and talk more," Rogue assured.

Rosellina nodded again, clearly happy.

"Yes, we'll see each other tomorrow."

Rogue smiled and waved goodbye. Rosellina stood in the hallway for a moment before entering the room. She looked around-it was the kind of room you'd expect in a mansion, spacious and lovely, with a rustic feel from the wooden decor. She smiled to herself as she closed the door behind her, leaning her back against it. Thinking about everything that had happened in the last 48 hours, she sighed deeply, finally allowing herself to give in to the nerves, excitement, and passion that she had been holding inside since she knew she'd be coming to this place.

Everything felt so natural. She felt so many new emotions, but... they were wonderful. They made her feel even more alive. She never imagined she'd tell someone she'd see them the next day just to continue chatting and getting to know each other better. That kind of thought had never crossed the mind of someone so solitary in her own world.

As captivating as Van Gogh's starry night, as warm as Monet's rising sun, as mysterious yet thrilling as any work of El Bosco. Could her heart, which had been shielded in its own solitude, wrapped in its own illusions and longing for something like this, handle all the emotions of something that seemed so eagerly awaited, without her ever realizing it?

It felt... so good. So alive. It brought color.

________________________________________

The longing didn't exist under so much illusion. Perhaps because it was never achieved.

Can someone who has lived with nothing from the start, without realizing they needed it, truly long for something?

For those who believe they have everything, without the sins brushing the limits of their emotions, they don't see what they lack.

When something they never thought they would long for or need enters their life... mischievous greed sneaks in through the doorway.

Will you be able to live once it's gone?