#because I was feeling like drawing a small hazel after seeing her plush

[kaorucup]

mini hazel

•w•

edit: hazel

[kyoomiii]

♡ Weight Insecurity [hcs]

-  ➣. . . ❝ can i request the weight insecurity with sugawara, nishinoya, kenma, and bokuto?  ❞

― requested by: @ anonie ​ ―

- ✎ characters ❝ sugawara, nishinoya, kenma, and bokuto ❞

- [ trigger warning(s): heavy mentions of insecurity ]

- ⚘ genre ❝ fluff, angst ❞

❝ i’m so sorry you had to wait so long anonie. but i hope you enjoy this~ 

๑•́ㅿ•̀๑)ﾉ also i may or may not have gone a little overboard on bokuto’s... 

oopsie ❞

-kyo ♡

The gentle breeze that flows through the warm spring air is delightful against your skin, Sugawara’s small hums to an unknown tune filling the space as the two of you walk hand and hand to the vending machine. 

Despite the relatively quiet atmosphere, you don’t feel the least bit uncomfortable, rather the opposite really. But, then again there was always something about Sugawara that was so welcoming and soft- even mere strangers couldn’t help but fall into his warmth.

Your gaze trails aimlessly, the thought dancing in your head as you listen to his hum. Quietly, your eyes begin to wander over his features almost absentmindedly.

It’s then you begin to truly realize- The boy is absolutely beautiful. Whether it be his smooth unblemished skin or the tiny little beauty mark that’s settled right next to his eye. His appearance is nothing short of a delicate beauty. 

The longer you stare, the more you come to realize just how unreal his beauty is, something so pure seemed to belong to nothing short of a prince from a fairy tale. And though it never bothered you in the first place, you find yourself growing anxious.

Anxious because while you know Sugawara is beyond breathtaking, as shown in his countless admirers from all grades. You’d never truly realized just how gorgeous he is- and though you put him above wanting someone solely based on their appearance, you feel as though he could definitely do better- and maybe one day he will.

And now, as you come to a stop, despite being far from close to the vending machine. The loud thundering of your heartbeat drums through your ears. 

You can only watch as a girl- perhaps a 2nd year, catches Sugawara’s attention. Cheeks flushed, and hands folded neatly in front of her. Her lips are moving, but you can’t seem to catch what she’s saying. She’s pretty, big doe eyes, small, and thin- a delicate beauty, just like him.

Drifting in your own thoughts, you don’t even seem to notice as she walks away, somewhat dejected, though seemingly not too upset. 

“y/n? Is something wrong?”

The sudden call of your name startles you, but you can’t say that you weren’t expecting it, after all his observation skills are one of the many things you love about him, and with that you know there is no use lying. 

“Koushi- am I pretty?”

Wide-eyed and jaw-dropped, he can’t help but stop his tracks, his eyes carefully watching as you observe the retreating girl. 

“Oh y/n...Of course, you are. What makes you think you aren’t?”

“...I-... Well. I just think you could find someone better… You know, someone who is prettier- I mean, I’m not exactly… As beautiful as you are. And I think you deserve someone who fits that. Someone breathtaking and… thin.”

Not once, throughout your entire ramble do you look at him. Your eyes seemingly glued to the direction in which the girl has left.

But even so, Sugawara cups your rounded cheeks in each of his hands. His movements are slow and calculated as he turns your attention back to him. 

Hazel eyes boring into your own, and suddenly you feel vulnerable. Stripped bare to your insecurities, as his eyes, search what seemed to be the deepest spaces of your mind.

And though you don’t take your eyes off him. You are caught completely surprised as he places a gentle kiss to your lips, his thumbs caressing the soft plump skin of your cheeks as he takes the air from your lungs before pulling away slowly, and carefully as if you were glass.

“You are beautiful just the way you are okay? I love you and only you, and no one can change that, because you are gorgeous both inside and out and I am so so so lucky to have found you.  So please y/n… Try not to put yourself down like that ever again. You are amazing, and I’ll make sure you see that every day of our lives.”

The sound of volleyballs hitting the hardwood flooring followed by the shouts of teenage boys seemed to be nothing more than background noise. Your mind too adrift to focus on the intense practice happening just before your eyes. 

Instead, you find yourself completely entranced by her. How someone could hold such an elegant beauty was something you felt you’d never be able to understand. Even in the almost suffocating heat of the gym, and the faint smell of sweat, she looked completely flawless- almost as if she were not of this world. 

You suppose you could understand just why Nishinoya was completely at her mercy. She was nothing short of perfection, a true beauty- whereas you felt as if you were nowhere close in comparison to her. 

And the sudden realization has a stream of worry trickling through your body. You knew she’d never shown interest in Nishinoya, but, even so, she didn’t need to. She had him wrapped around her fingers, whether she acknowledged it or not. 

You felt as if you were being paranoid, Kiyoko would never try to hurt you. And Nishinoya, the ever-loving goof who’d stolen your heart was no doubt in your mind faithful, he too would never do something like that. But, no matter how hard you tried to push it away, the small ache that maybe one day he would return to her, settled itself deep within your chest.

The feeling of hands around your waist startles you, shaking you from your thoughts. 

A small smile graces your lips at the feeling of Nishinoya’s lips against the plush chubbiness of your cheek.

“Something on your mind?” 

Unsure of how to say it, you nod silently. Your lips pursing as your fingers find his own, fiddling with them as you search for how to voice your thoughts.

“Kiyoko-senpai… She’s pretty isn’t she?”

The silence that follows is quickly replaced with the thundering of your own heartbeat as you wait for his response. 

But after what seems like an eternity- which was really only a couple of seconds. You can slowly feel yourself being swallowed up by the floor. The walls begin to cave as you subconsciously shift, subtly trying to escape Nishinoya’s grasp.

“She is.”

You can feel them. The tears that gather in your eyes.

“But so are you.”

Turning to look back at Nishinoya, you are met with his signature grin- bright and warm as always, and his eyes- they shine like the sun as he gazes at you.

“Yuu…”

“I mean it y/n… Yes, Kiyoko is beautiful- But so are you. And I have eyes for only you. You mean so much to me, and it hurts to know that you don’t see it. I think you are really cute y/n. Don’t you dare think any less of yourself ever again!”

The tears that wet your cheeks are no longer of sadness as the widest smile you’ve ever had graces your features. It makes Nishinoya’s heart flutter more than he ever thought possible.

“You’re so sweet to me Yuu.”

“It’s what you deserve~”

The soft glow of Kenma’s t.v illuminated the otherwise dark room as the clicking of the controller in his hands followed by the sounds of the video game he was currently playing filled the relatively quiet space.

Your eyes trailed after the small avatar that scurried across the screen. Head leaning against Kenma’s shoulder as you nibbled on the small snack between your lips.

You thought it was silly really. To be jealous of a digital 2d character on a screen, but even so you can’t seem to help it. And the fact that Kenma spent most of his days glued to some sort of device, a pretty maiden with a body of a goddess displayed before his eyes seemed to only worsen that insecurity.

However, you could never find the heart to tell him that, knowing just how much his games meant to him, and to make him feel bad for something he probably didn’t even take notice of, or had the ability to control was unfair. So for his sake you would suck it up.

The gentle tug of your shirt sleeve catches your attention, drawing you from your thoughts. A small smile tugs at your lips as your eyes meet Kenma’s.

“Which outfit should I buy y/n?”

Your eyes trail back to the t.v, the character displayed shifting between two outfits of Kenma’s choice, both equally form fitting to highlight the character’s flawless curves.

You find your smile quickly turning into a frown, however one glance at Kenma has you trying to play it off as if you were merely thinking.

“What’s wrong?”

The sudden question startles you, but then again you should’ve known better than to hide from Kenma’s attentiveness. He could catch even the smallest changes of details in people, especially you- someone he has grown fond of.

That doesn’t stop you from trying though. Quickly putting on a smile and shaking your head.

“It’s nothing Kenma, just thinking I suppose.”

He doesn’t believe you, and he shows it in the form of a scrunched up nose and a small almost unnoticeable pout.

“You’re lying… But I guess if you don’t want to talk about it we don’t have to.”

A wave of guilt washes over your body, but, you can’t seem to find the words you want to say. Instead you curl your legs up to your chest, and to Kenma you look like an absolute ball of fluff as he continues with his game, choosing an outfit at random.

It’s not brought up again, not even as you feel yourself grow increasingly frustrated, nails digging into the plush skin of your thighs.

“-Kenma can I ask you something?”

Startled by the sudden noise, Kenma jumps slightly, looking over at you questioningly, not ignoring the way you stare almost longingly at the avatar on his screen.

“Would you find me more attractive if my body looked like that?”

He’s unsure of what to say, shifting nervously as silence engulfs you two. The only sound for a long while is the music track of the game. 

“Oh- I’m sorry… I’ve made you uncomfortable… I- Just forget I said anything.”

Shaking his head, he takes your hand in his own. A small shrug coming from his shoulders as his cheeks flush pink.

“I guess if you wanted to… But truth be told, I like you the way you are y/n. You’re beautiful.”

His words leave you speechless. A small flush matching his own coloring your cheeks.

“Thank you Kenma.”

There was no other way to describe Bokuto other than a pure ball of sunshine. Bright and welcoming with people flocking from all over just to bask in his warmth. And it didn’t hurt that he was quite the looker too. Truly someone special, and way out of your league in your opinion.

In moments like this you wonder how you got so lucky. With your head resting on Bokuto’s shoulder, your gaze directed out the window as he rambled on about something only he could make interesting as the two of you waited for class to begin. The sound of his voice calming, despite the energy that seeps from every word.

You don’t even notice the teacher enter the room. The only thing to catch your attention is the gentle nudge from Bokuto, and the wide grin you love so much before he heads to his assigned seat.

“Today we will be working in pairs.”

Before you had gotten with Bokuto, the announcement would have made you groan. But, one glance at him from across the room seems to make the assignment a little more bearable.

“-I’ll be choosing your partners today.”

And of course you should’ve known better, the feeling of dismay tugging at your lips in the form of a pout as the teacher lists off the pairs.

Disappointed, you can’t help but sigh, glancing over at Bokuto once more who sends you a small apologetic smile as he meets up with his partner. A girl you have come to recognize as someone who was admired by many for her appearance and sweet, sunny personality. 

The sight of them together doesn't bother you much, however, the small ball that sits at the pit of your stomach can’t be helped as she smiles up at him with a grin that almost seemed to rival his own… You had to admit, they were cute together.

Sucking it up you decide to push the thought away as best as you can. However, it doesn’t seem to be as effective with the occasional glance in their direction. It was like watching two angels, pure and bright. 

Luckily, the end of the class as well as the school day, arrive faster than you had expected it. And with a new found energy you find yourself bounding over to Bokuto- who you find happily conversing with his partner, the topic having changed from school to general personal topics. 

And much to your dismay, it doesn’t take long to notice the hand on his bicep. Her small frame leaning in close to his, eyes shining as if hearing about his assignment for a different class were the most interesting she had ever heard in her lifetime. 

You watched with wide eyes, suddenly nervous to approach the pair that shone like the sun. 

So instead you wait, busying yourself with some other mundane tasks, because surely he’ll be done soon- Bokuto has always been social anyway, it would be rude to suddenly pull him away now, especially when he looks like he’s having a good time.

 But seconds quickly turn to minutes, and Bokuto has yet to pull himself from her grasp. And you find yourself growing tired. 

Timidly you walk up to Bokuto, hand gently tugging his blazer, which he seems to immediately understand.

“Ah- See you tomorrow r/g/n-chan.”

Bokuto takes your hand in his own, bidding the girl goodbye with a small wave as he practically drags you out of the classroom.

The walk home is quiet, much too quiet for Bokuto’s liking. The tension thick in the air as you walk a distance away from him rather than holding his hand like you normally do.

“y/n-chan? What’s wrong?”

Stopping in your tracks, you direct your gaze to the ground, pout present on your face as Bokuto reaches out to hold you soft jawline, turning your attention towards him.

“Do you like her?”

Shocked his brows furrow.

“Ehhh? What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know… She’s just so pretty and nice- You two looked like you were getting alone… And I figured it was only time for you to want someone… Like her.”

Bokuto frowns, his hands moving quickly to engulf your plump body.

“Don’t you ever say that… You’re beautiful too- if not more. I don’t care if she’s skinny- or whatever! I only have eyes for you, no one else… You’re so silly- to not see just how gorgeous you are…”

“Thank you for making me feel better. I love you Kou.”

“Of course y/n… I love you too- forever and ever.”

“That’s quite a long time.”

“I know, but that’s okay- I want to spend it with you, and no one else.”

[calpops]

wedding | c.h.

The day to say “I do” comes with blooming flowers and love surrounding you and Calum.

4k words

dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

<< >>

Early afternoon rays of sunlight set the botanical garden and Calum’s heart aglow. He has a view of the wedding arch decorated with your favorite flowers from his window. He sits with his hands in his lap and his eyes on the aisle that will bring you to him. His tux is already on, his best man lingering in his dressing room. Guests start to file into the garden, light oak chairs spread among the spaces between the flowers. A cobblestone path will be walked by the wedding court, and will have flower petals rained down on it; soft pink colliding with the cool gray stone. Calum expects nerves to course through him but he’s calm as the dream he’s envisioned starts to come to life around him. A smile starts to claim his face as he spots his parents taking a seat in the first row. There’s no sides for the guests, everyone is among each other. Calum’s family is your family and sides are meaningless when love is being celebrated.

“You ready?” Ashton asks, his hands dug into the pockets of his own tux, a nonchalant stance claiming him though Calum can see the excitement gleaming in his hazel eyes. He grins when Calum nods.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” Calum says, realizing how utterly true the statement is. He’s been ready for this day for months, years, since the day he met you. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Let’s get you out there,” Ashton suggests, noting that the time is ticking down and walks down the aisle are approaching much quicker than they realized.

Calum had gotten lost in the magic of the day. He was left to imagine what you might look like walking down the aisle. He had no glimpses of your dress. He didn’t know what flowers you would carry in your hands—you had chosen to keep that as a secret as well. Excitement makes his heart beat a little faster as he stands from the plush chair situated by the window. He gives himself a once over in a standing mirror by the door but realizes it doesn’t matter. All he wants to see is you. He pushes a hand through his hair and then pushes out the door. The hallway is quiet, your door at the other end stays firmly closed. He knows Mali is in with you, helping with your dress and makeup and hair. Fulfilling her much wanted maid of honor duties to the fullest. Ashton puts a hand on Calum’s back in support as he leads the way down the hall and towards the double doors that will lead to his future.

Calum stands there, takes in the crowd and the flowers and sunlight that glitter all around. His mother sees him through the doors, her eyes shine and she offers a small wave so as not to draw attention his way. His cue to head for the end of the aisle hasn’t come. Some guests still try to find their seats. He can’t seem to find your mother in the crowd and he feels himself tense, fingers curling into his palm and jaw clenching. Your parents presence—or absence—has been a point of contention and worry for you since they skipped out on a dinner after getting engaged.

“Oh, there you are,” Mali’s voice sounds from behind them as the groom and best man watch the crowd. “Here,” Mali mumbles as she strides forward and adjusts Calum’s tie one last time though he was nearly certain it was fine to begin with. He wouldn’t begrudge her a sisterly affection on his wedding day. “You’re both perfect. I can’t wait to see your face when you see the dress.”

“I know it’ll be perfect,” Calum states as if matter of fact, because in his mind it will be. It’s you and that’s as close to perfect as perfect can get. “He’s here, isn’t he?” Calum asks, knowing Mali will understand he’s referring to your father who you very timidly asked to walk you down the aisle. It had taken a lot for you to work up the courage and faith to do so. Mali shakes her head, eyes darting to the floor, away from Calum’s gaze as if she cannot meet his eyes.

“They both didn’t show?” Calum asks, noting that his inability to find your mom in the crowd wasn’t just a fluke. Mali nods and skirts her gaze over to the door Calum knows you’re behind.

“Maybe you want to talk?” She suggests. “But don’t go in, you can’t see the dress yet.”

Calum nods and makes for the door. He knocks and tells you that it’s him, says to not open the door but he’s here and after he hears one small whimper through the door it’s almost enough to throw tradition to the wind.

“They’re not coming,” you say and Calum hears all of that courage and faith shatter in the three words. “I have no one to walk me down the aisle.”

Calum hears footsteps among heartbreak and while he struggles for words he turns to find Ashton and Luke at his back.

“What’s going on? It’s almost time,” Luke asks and points to his wrist that doesn’t have a watch on it.

“Parents didn’t show,” Ashton fills him in quickly and Calum only manages to hear the rest of the conversation in clipped words as he tries to soothe you through the door. If Mali didn’t linger with fire in her eyes he would have opened the door and taken you in his arms.

“No one to walk down the aisle with?” Luke asks and scoffs. “I’ll do it,” he offers and his voice is so sure it’s not a question but a solution. He nudges Calum to get him aware.

“Sweetheart, Luke’s gonna walk you down the aisle, is that okay?” He asks through the door, wishing it didn’t need to come to this but thankful that his friends truly are family to him and to you.

“Yeah,” you say and the pain in your voice recedes with the one syllable. “That would be good.”

Luke smiles kindly at Calum and pats him on the back. “It’s gonna be okay,” he promises and with the turning events Calum knows that’s true. In any case, marrying you will be perfect, no matter who shows or who doesn’t. The only two that matter are you and him and if at the end of the aisle you stand together then everything else doesn’t matter.

“Thank you,” Calum says, voice thick with emotion as he blinks back tears and turns back to the door that stands closed. “I’ll see you out there sweetheart,” he says through the wood and smiles when you respond in kind. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you say back and Calum eases when he hears the difference in your tone. It was heartbroken but love helps to heal the wound your parents opened.

“Are you ready?” Mali asks, repeating Ashton’s earlier question as she guides him back toward the double door as Luke disappears into your room.

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation.

The music starts, Calum’s time to walk down the aisle comes and goes in a blur. His walk doesn’t matter in his mind. Even Mali and Ashton—with Duke in a bow tie in Ashton’s arms—paired up as best man and maid of honor walking toward him goes past in a haze. Roy—in place of Luke—and one of your friends comes next. Then Michael and one of your cousins. The wedding court stands around him. The flower girl walks the aisle next, spilling your favorite pink petals to the ground. And then you emerge into his sight. Stood at the open double doors with a veil over your face and a dress that takes his breath away clinging to your body.

Your bouquet is nearly identical to the first one he ever gave you and his smile is met with glossy eyes he wishes he wouldn’t have to blink so he might never lose sight of you. The pianist plays your song and you walk down the aisle with your arm linked with Luke’s. Calum’s heart races as you approach, he sways towards you as if the world is bringing you together. Luke gives you away with a prideful smirk and kiss on the cheek to accentuate how honored he is and Calum lifts your veil. Your eyes match the gloss and shine of his as your gazes meet. Your hands find each other’s and squeeze at the same time. Words blur past him, the only words he can focus on are the vows he’s written and the promises he wants to make. He doesn’t let go of your hands as the ceremony continues. His eyes don’t stray from you though he can feel hundreds on him. He brightens when you smile, it’s shy and small and reserved solely for him. He wants to take you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings right there.

The time for vows comes.

Calum remembers the night he found you guarding crumpled pieces of paper with doubts in your eyes. Not doubts about marrying him, doubts that your words weren’t good enough and wouldn’t stand up at the wedding. He had eased your nerves, talked to you, had you tell him how you feel about him without the daunting prospect of a crowd and judgement. It was just you and him, sat on the bed, that was the entire world in that moment. Now, standing at your wedding, with a tux and a dress and a crowd of loved ones everything bleeds away but each other. Your worlds are the same. Calum has you in his sights and you have him in yours and the rest doesn’t matter. You say your vows first and the words are reminiscent of the night all doubts vanished.

“You’re my one and only,” you begin with, voice as sincere as he’s ever heard it. There’s a tremble in your words but it isn’t filled with fear. It’s an emotion that he feels rattling around his chest. It’s love and and it’s overpowering and inescapable. You continue, make promises that Calum knows you will keep. Vows that are certain. “I will love you forever.”

Your vows end with a statement that is as known as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Your promises aren’t just words but glimpses into the future that you both want. Family. Calum clears his throat when everyone turns to look at him; his time to make his own promises among him. His shoulders square and his heart skips a beat or two but it’s nothing in the grand scheme of the way his heart has always felt for you. He sees you, takes in your image as his words swirl through his mind. You had been calm and collected aside from the tremble in your voice, but that only spoke of love to Calum. He hopes his own words will carry with such certainty and grace, that he can make you feel the same as you’ve made him feel.

“Sweetheart,” he begins, his term of endearment for you so innate that it’s the first and only thing his mind can think of when he looks at you. You’re his sweetheart, there’s nothing else in the world that can encompass you as a whole more in his mind. “I vow to be the man you want and need each day, to better myself for you and us and all of the things we want in the future. For our family,” Calum starts his vows, unthinking, only seeing you and letting the words of his heart shine through.

He pauses, wants to commit the moment to his memory. The smile on your face that touches shining eyes, the feel of your hand with his ring on your finger pressed against his. The colors in your bouquet and the flowers that spill from the arch behind you. The sun that isn’t as radiant as you but brings you to a glow. Calum revels in all of it, in you and the moment that is fast approaching, an ‘I do’ already wanting to spring from his lips though his vows are only half spoken. He hears the quiet of the crowd and laughs when Duke lets out a small bark still in Ashton’s arms. He takes it as a prompt to continue. Takes your giggle past his ears and into his heart, lets the joyous sound guide him back into the moment.

“I promise,” he starts again with a softness in his tone that only you can put there. He makes more promises, he tells you all he vows and all he wants from the future. But those are arbitrary when it comes to what his heart really and truly wants. He finishes with a simple but most important desire and promise. “I just want you, always, forever.”

Rings are presented and prompting to say those two magical words come as you slide silver bands on each other’s ring fingers.

“I do,” Calum promises.

“I do,” you promise.

No one needs to prompt Calum to take you into his arms, to kiss you like it’s the first and last time your lips will meet. The silver band on his finger is foreign but comfortable and it’s cool against your skin as his hand comes up to cup your jaw. Calum wishes he could pause this moment, that he could live here—with flowers around you, you in his arms, and the words ‘I do’ still lingering in the warm air—forever, or at least, for a while longer. You break away from the kiss but grant him another small one when he chases your lips. You both laugh into the small moment. The crowd of your closest friends and family gives a small cheer but it’s drowned out by hearts beating in time with each other, by whispered words that sound a lot like continued vows as you take each other’s hands again and walk down the aisle together. Towards the wide double doors, back into the building that you got ready for your future in. Towards all of the promises that have been made.

***

The reception is held not far from flowers and vows and kisses that seal promises. You found a venue just a short walk and even shorter drive away from the botanical garden. An old and charming barn with high ceilings, flowers scattered from the entrance to the very back wall and lights strung up all around bring the party to life as guests file in. Calum has found a moment alone with you before going inside. It’s your party but for a selfish moment all you both want is to be alone.

“How’re you?” Calum asks, deftly sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear. You ditched your veil somewhere in between the botanical garden and the barn but your dress still hangs beautifully off of you, though Calum is anxious to have another peek at the slip dress beneath once night settles and a hotel suite bids you privacy.

“Happy,” you respond without any further thought. “Married,” you say, lifting your hand where your engagement ring now rests to your wedding band. Calum smiles as he takes your hand. “And happy.”

He kisses your hand. “Good. Me too,” he says and lets your hand fall but entwines your fingers and leads you into the party past the shade of a huge weeping willow.

Music already plays inside the barn, people are dancing but turn to see you make your entrance. They watch silently, adoringly, when the time for your first dance as a married couple comes. It’s reminiscent of twirling in the bedroom to a playlist of songs curated for your love. The crowd fades away as Calum pulls you close, lyrics of love and soft melodies accompanying you around the dance floor. You rest your head against Calum’s chest, hear and feel his heartbeat and wish that you could stay right there forever. Until you inch away to catch a glimpse of dark brown eyes drowning in the sight of you.

“I know it’s our party and all,” you say and watch as Calum grins as if knowing what you’ll say next, “but I almost want to leave already. I can’t wait to get you alone.”

Calum laughs, the sound harmonious against the sounds of your song and the happiness of the crowd around you. “We’ll be off on our honeymoon soon enough, sweetheart. Two weeks all to ourselves.”

He spins you, grabs a giggle from you and pulls you back to him. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you remind, wary but trusting him with all of the details. Your only concern is your suitcase. You’ve snuck peeks of Calum packing it for you and the contents that made it from dresser to luggage have done nothing to quell your curiosity. Bathing suits, sweaters and long pants, shorts and sun hats. You’re not sure where you’re going but so long as it’s with him you know it will be worthwhile.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Calum says with a nonchalant shrug.

“Are you sure we can’t leave yet?” You ask one more time, willing and wishing to have that solace with him.

“Not yet,” he whispers. “Soon.”

Soon comes after more dancing and laughing and time spent with all those wishing you well on the marriage. Soon brings you to a car ready to take you to a hotel and in your mind you map out how far it is from the airport though you’re not even sure that you’ll be flying for your honeymoon. Soon enough you’re stumbling through an oak door and into moonlight that dances across the room from floor to ceiling windows. Calum’s hands are deft and gliding around your waist to the hooks at the back of your dress, lips dragging along soft skin on your neck to your collarbones. A happy but weary exhaustion pulls you to the bed where you both crash into the plush blankets and pillows. Your dress is half off and the buttons on his shirt are half undone.

He’s highlighted by the moon, the curve of his jaw demure and strong. Shadows cut across his face, eyelashes cutting into his cheekbones. You shift and he accommodates you as you climb into his lap, his hands on your waist as the straps of your dress dip and you bite your lip.

“We’re married,” you say, a reminder between the two of you, a declaration and a moment of disbelief clinging in the air.

“Was it everything you wanted?” Calum asks with pride gleaming in his eyes.

“You are,” you respond without flinching, lean down for a kiss that begs for more but you sigh against his lips and pull away.

“Something on your mind?” He asks, noting the slight distance and the far off look in your eyes. He worries it’s about your parents and their absence. He knows you appreciate Luke walking you down the aisle but doesn’t know if it compares to having your father be the one to give you away. He wants to pull you close again, to quell any aches that may have come from the afternoon but he gives you space to think and collect yourself.

You take a deep breath, not wanting to ruin the moment with the thoughts that came and claimed you with just one look at Calum. “You remember when my parents bailed and you promised that you’re my family?” You ask, broaching the topic timidly though you’re not scared, not really, but apprehension sits with you in any case. Calum nods and it helps to ease you and your thoughts. He fears it is about their absence. Hopes it didn’t ruin the wedding. “And you said that someday we’d make a family of our own?” He nods again, nerves sparking within him, and you’re sure he’s caught on to what you’re desperately trying to get out. “I don’t want to wait. I can. But I don’t want to.”

Calum doesn’t flinch or react in any way. It takes a moment for him to process your words. It’s a curveball to what he thought you were going to say. He was nearly certain you would need to get out some sorrows about your parents missing your wedding. But instead of tear filled eyes and small cries he stares back into eyes that are envisioning the future and hears words that paint those same pictures in his mind. He licks his lips and you feel his hands press against your hips just a touch tighter than before. “Are you sure? Is it the right time?”

Calum can’t say he hasn’t thought about starting a family with you. It’s been in his mind more often than not as of late. Especially as the wedding swirled around and implanted idyllic thoughts of the future in his mind. But, the band makes time skewed, takes him away from you and all of your plans. There will be another album and tour soon enough. He needs to know that it’s okay.

“It’ll never be perfect timing,” you rationalize. “Your job will always be your job and hectic. There will always be another album or tour. I know we just got married but we’ve been living together for so long. Nothing but the rings on our fingers will really change because of it. I don’t really know what the right timing would entail but I know that I’m ready and I want this, if you do.”

“I do.”

“You do?” You ask, trying not to brighten too much or bulldoze over his words, to give him time to think and not sway his decision with your joy. “I promise I can wai—“

He cuts you off with a kiss, his hands guiding you back to him to cut off any notion of wasting another moment. “I don’t want to wait,” he mumbles against your lips, his mind made up and certainty making your joy and happiness bloom to it’s fullest in your chest. He pulls away for a moment to continue the conversation that needs to be had. It’s a serious subject and rash decisions and lust filled gazes can’t cut it short. “You’re right. There might never be a ‘right’ time. But we’re ready. We have a home and love and there’s nothing more in that world I could want than you and a mini you.”

“Two?” You ask and remind—your discussion on the couch about having kids prompting the number two from your lips.

Calum smiles and laughs and nods. “At least two,” he corrects. “So they can always have a friend, right?” He asks and gives you a small squeeze.

“Yes,” you reply and dip back down to claim his lips in another kiss.

Moonlight plays against the walls as you spend a night in bliss. Your dress and his tux get discarded to the floor, the feeling of each other is visceral, the sounds of hearts racing and breaths trying to catch up, of your names called into the night and satisfied sighs echo around the room. You settle in at his side as the moon fades and the sun takes its place. You grin against his shoulder, press a kiss to his skin and get caught up in movement when he turns over to face you. You gaze up at him, seeing nothing but the rest of your lives in his morning glowy eyes.

“G’morning, husband,” you mumble around a smile.

Calum grins and laughs and pulls you even closer to him. “We have a honeymoon to get to,” he says though he makes no move to do so. You don’t move except to kiss him slowly, sweetly.

You’ll get there, eventually, you have the rest of forever together.

<< >>

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[artsoupsoupart]

A Hicsqueak Ficlet: As Dew Settles

Summary: A lazy, loving morning between lovers. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521469 

Pippa’s favorite way to wake up is to the soft sounds of morning birds welcoming the sun, which is barely peeking up behind the horizon, wrapped in the arms of her love, nose pressed against tangled tresses that smell of lavender and cedarwood. Hazel eyes blink open, a wall of dark hair obscures her sight, but she can still make out the early beginnings of the day. She’s overly warm but perfectly comfortable. She had fallen asleep with Hecate’s back against her front and they seem to have stayed that way through the night. The little puffs of air against the crook of her arm are a sweet comfort to the slightly sweaty press of her hand to smooth skin. When her hand had made its way under Hecate’s sleep shirt, she did not know.

Pippa always wakes before Hecate. During the school year, she woke to get them breakfast. No matter if they were at Cackle’s or Pentangle’s, the two would eat together and then, if it wasn’t the weekend and they had indulged in being together on a school night, they would part ways with a hug and kiss that lasted longer that they should allow, still unwillingly to part for any period of time even after so many years. In the winter, she’d wake to light a fire, knowing how much the brunette detested the chill of the season which is only emphasized by the drafts of the castles. Though, when they went on winter breaks, Pippa still liked the heat of the fire at their holiday home.

It’s where they are now, with one week left of their summer vacation. The summer wind cools the room through the open windows. They both preferred when the sweet scent of wildflowers by the small home filtered inside. The night chill will eventually fade into a mild heat and they’ll be forced to part to prevent their impending sweat from making their cuddling uncomfortable. For now, though, Pippa relishes in their closeness, would draw her girlfriend closer to her if it didn’t threaten to wake her from her peaceful sleep. She wishes she were turned the other way, that they were face-to-face so she could gaze upon features she’s loved since they were children.

The tails of sleep cling to Pippa and just as she thinks she’ll close her eyes and return to dream land she feels Hecate’s breath stutter slightly as she wakes. The brunette presses her cheek to Pippa’s bicep and mutters something about it being too early, and the blonde just knows she’s fighting off wakefulness. Pippa finally shifts, brings Hecate closer as she places a kiss to her cheek. Hecate smiles that sleepy smile that melts her heart. It’s one that’s so at peace with the world and she’s sure she’s the only one who gets to see it.

“Good morning, darling,” she whispers into the air, receiving a hum in return. Hecate turns in her arms, still riddled with sleep, and presses her face into the crook of Pippa’s neck. She kisses it once, twice, and then three times before settling again. “Is that what today is going to be, Hiccup? Have a lazy day?”

The brunette hums again, “I like that idea.”

Pippa pulls back so that their eye to eye, heart almost bursting in her chest. “I love the way you look in the morning light.”

The words fall from her lips before she even registers that she thought them. Sharp cheeks tinge scarlet and Hecate attempts to look away, to break the gaze not because she doesn’t believe Pippa’s words but instead because she knows they’re true and it’s a lot to handle even after years of being together. Pippa catches her chin and hopes she pours all the love she can muster into her eyes. The brunette knows not what to say so she presses her lips softly to Pippa’s, a mere sleepy caress of lips that’s somehow just as filled with love as any other.  

With a clearing of her throat, Hecate whispers in the millimeter of space between them, “A look from you is oxygen.”

Pippa gasps. Hecate has always been quiet poetic in the words she chooses, has always taken the time to scour that beautiful mind of hers to find just the right thing to say. Pippa knows it’s something that bothers her, that she can’t just speak off the top of her head, but Pippa loves it. Loves that the brunette is methodical in everything she does. She loves her and wastes no time telling her with her own words and her own kisses and her own body cuddling closer to Hecate.

It takes another twenty minutes for the couple to extract themselves from the bed. Breakfast is light and relatively quiet. Normally they would eat across from each other, however, this morning Hecate feels a bit more affectionate than usual and chooses the chair next to Pippa’s, her hand securely placed low on the inside on her thigh. While there’s a certain heat there that always accompanies Hecate’s touch, there are fluttering butterflies in the pit of Pippa’s stomach that have her blushing and leaning her head against a relatively sharp shoulder.

With their meal finished and dishes washed, Pippa suggest that their lazy day officially begin with a warm bubble bath. She’s grateful for once that the oval, free-standing bathtub is in front of a large window looking out to the meadow of flowers. She opens it as she draws the bath, Hecate close behind her retrieving their preferred bath cocktail and plush towels.

As they have many, many times before, Hecate and Pippa undress each other, letting silk and satin drop to the floor and reveal smooth skin interrupted with infrequent scars of a life lived. They touch and caress and pet until Hecate finally turns the blonde and motions for her to get in the tub. She takes her rightful place between her legs and settles back to front.

Their words are whispered and comfortably lagged. They talk of plans for the rest of the week and jokingly entertain the idea of permanently moving in together though it would be absolutely implausible. However, two witches can dream, can’t them?

And as the couple escapes the cooling water and as the dew settles on luscious green grass, the couple dresses in their most casual, lazy day clothes. Pippa in a sophisticated pair of sweatpants and one of Hecate’s shirts and Hecate in an olive sundress that floats around her ankles. They settle into their lazy day, cuddled up on the couch, content and completely at ease.

[soranihimawari]

the truth is...

“Kindness is free. Love is free,” I said triumphantly raising the bottle of sake in the air.  Today was one I didn’t see coming at all. As fate would have it, running into my high school crush was not particularly high on my to-do list when I left the cafe I worked in earlier in the afternoon. I was hired on as one of the patisseries which specialized in parfaits and seasonal tarts during my last year in culinary school. Tonight, I was drunk on celebrating this latest turn of events.

“Of course,” my company teases me right as he raises my hand to his lips. he lets go of my hand with a cheshire cat like grin. “How could I ever forget that. C’mon, let’s get some food in you before you suffer the worse hangover in your life. I know a great place not too far from here.”

I took another swig of the sake bottle before I nodded.

“Lead the way Atsumu-san.”

I swore those hazel eyes never looked so inviting as they did at that point in my life. I recalled my coworkers’ conversation earlier in the middle of our shift:

“Say, y/n-san,“ the interning barista, Haruna, began.

“Hmm?” I hummed my response. “What’s up Haru-chan?”

“I was, well we were all wondering about something,” she said.

I picked up a towel to dry another cappuccino mug beside her. The other members of our cafe were within earshot when their senior intern asked her question.

“How come your boyfriend only comes in after we leave? When are you gonna introduce us?”

“Boyfriend? Haruna, I hate to break to you, but I don’t have one.”

“No, you do,” she begins to state her case. Haruna nervously twiddled her thumbs while our other coworker, Senna, approached us. “Tell her Senna-senpai.”

“We didn’t want to say anything, but there’s this hot blond guy who looks eerily similar to Miya Atsumu, y’know. From the MSBY Black Jackals? Anyways, he stops in here every once in a while right at closing time when it’s Erina’s turn to lock up the cafe. And apparently there was one day he asked me if you worked here,” Senna confesses. “You went to Inarizaki too, right?”

“Yeah, so?” I asked. My small smile was caught by both of them before I picked up the next mug to dry.

“You should of seen the relief on his face when Senna told him that you did and now he hasn’t stopped coming by on random mornings, but you’re never here when he comes by,” Haruna says with a dreamy sigh.

“Listen,” I said. I placed the second mug upside down on the drying rack and folded the drying towel before continuing. “The next time that blonde pretty boy walks in here is the day I will need to buy a bottle of really strong orange flavored sake to get through any sort of time with him.”

“You liked him didn’t you?” Haruna giggled.

“I do not.” Oh fuck, they’re both going to pick up on that slip, I thought.

“You’re blushing really hard now, Senpai,” Senna teased. “You still find him really hot don’t you?”

***

A couple of days go by without Miya stopping by the cafe. I had reminded my fellow cafe employees the MSBY team had a few away practice matches while promoting a newly signed member of their team. Even with this knowledge, their collective curiosity got the better of them inquiring about my relationship, or lack thereof, with the good looking setter. 

It wasn’t until two weeks later Miya Atsumu stopped in for his usual. Apparently there were perks of his frequent visits one of them being on his social media account pages tagging our cafe location with the quote “she always makes the best parfaits”. Business actually had been steady since then. After all, it helps when your three coworkers all had conversed with him once or twice before.

One Saturday around four forty-five in the afternoon, I was in the middle of setting my fudge in a star mold when Erina, Haruna, and Senna texted me to come out of the kitchen saying that there was a regular who had a question about the menu. Judging by the messages I received, I rolled my eyes. 

“Unbelievable,” I muttered before patting my hands on the apron; I had a coy smile on my face when I opened Haruna’s photo message. Damn Atsumu, you still are as handsome as ever. I pushed through the swinging kitchen door walking toward where my former classmate was standing on the opposite side of the display counter.

“Miya-kun?” my voice maintained its curious tone.

The blonde professional athlete stood in the middle of the cafe reading the menu wearing a casual sponsored street attire that included a hoodie with his team’s logo stitched on (along with a pair of cotton jersey shorts and running shoes). Compared to me being dressed in a humbling combination of tapered royal blue jeans and a sunflower yellow blouse paired with nonslip ebony ballet flats, the setter looked like he was in athleisure campaign.

“Hey there dollface. Long time no see.”

I folded my arms over my chest when he sat down in front of the short counter space near the espresso maker. I was skeptical of his presence here, but my brain kicked into fight or flight mode ever since I heard him poke fun at the odd shaped friendship chocolates I left for him on his desk when we were fifteen (to be fair, it was my second attempt at making sea salt chocolates at home, but apparently, the Miya twins were going through their high school jerk phase). I watched Atsumu from afar trash them without even tasting one in favor of his fangirls’ fancier box saying something about how he had to avoid excess sweets for a week because of some stupid bet he had going on with his twin.

Does he need to know he was the reason why I wanted to perfect my sweet making skills? No. Absolutely not. Because if he did, that ego of his would skyrocket and I’m actually ok with not letting that bit of info reach his ears. Damn it Miya, why are you still as good looking as I remembered you being? The fuck was I thinking when I was fifteen...Gods do I need a drink. I thought.

“What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off training or at practice or something?”

“Nope. I got the day off and thought I should come by to see what’s the newest parfait my favorite old classmate made for me.”

“Bold of you to assume it’s for you, ‘Tsumu.”

Me saying his nickname caused him to raise an eyebrow at me before he closed his eyes and I watched his lips draw back into a wider smile.

“Erina, Haruno, mind staying behind to help Senna clean and lock up tonight? It seems the owner of this cafe and I have dinner plans.”

“You’re not their boss Miya, so you can’t tell them what to do.” I pushed my finger against his shoulder which caused a chortle to come from him. I turned around to face my coworkers with an amused stare.

“Erina, Haruno, mind helping Senna out tonight? I’m leaving early. Apparently I have plans with the starting setter for the MSBY volleyball team.”

That was at five-thirty that afternoon...

---THE NEXT DAY, 9:56a.m.---

The soft chirping of an alarm located on the nightstand next to the plush king sized bed where I found myself waking up in. I am by no means a rich lady and for the life of me, I couldn’t even afford a place like this with a killer view of the neighborhood. Suddenly, as I hoisted myself up from the sheets, my memory came back in little flashes. Memories ranged from me getting drunk with Atsumu at the local pub next to his brother’s restaurant to Atsumu’s declaration on which onigiri his brother makes was the absolute best in town and how not one of his ex-girlfriends could ever replicate it properly.

I don’t recall much of what we talked about at Onigiri Miya when Osamu left us to ourselves for a little bit, but I could of sworn Atsumu tell me how he was searching for the cafe I worked at trying to formally apologize about dumping out the chocolates I had made when we were in high school:

“I heard you made them at home, right?” he asked, watching my nose twitch before I rested my head in my palm on the table. When I nodded, I didn’t notice he was pouting when he muttered an, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, hah. I did. It was my second batch too. I made them look like stars because those were the only molds I had. If I had known they’d wind up in the trash, I wouldn’t have tried to make you feel better after the results of the spring tournament that year,” I said exhaling a sigh. I leaned my head against Atsumu’s shoulder gently reassuring him I had long since forgiven him. “But it’s in the past. Don’t worry about it so much, ‘tsumu. C’mon, the night is still young and I need at least one more bottle of sake before the convenience store stops selling them.”

---

“Oh my god,” I groaned when I flung the blanket off my top exposed body. My bra was still on, which was a good sign I guess, but instead of wearing my sapphire slacks, I noticed they were replaced with an older pair of white with black striped sweatpants (the color combination of the sweatpants reminded me of my high school’s volleyball team). I snatched the closest shirt I could find, yet I didn’t have enough time to throw that over my shoulders since I heard the bedroom door creak open.

“Good, you’re awake,” a disembodied voice called out from behind me. Give me a damned minute, I thought. I know that voice; it belonged to one of my classmates whom I recalled walking into my cafe yesterday asking me to spend the evening with him. Inhaling a sharp breath when I felt the mattress dip behind me, I barely remember him telling me to confess about something when I was sober in the morning and for some reason I had agreed.

“You’re really pretty, y’know.” Miya stretched his arm around my shoulder before he stood up to help me to my feet. I was a bit skeptical at his compliment, yet he squeezed my shoulder twice allowing me to know that he said was true.

“You flatter me, Miya. Why don’t you try complimenting me when I’m sober, yeah?” I tapped the left side of his cheek when I hopped off the stool. 

“Fine,” he chuckled. “You’re drunk enough as it is. Let’s go. Later ‘Samu.”

I shook my head right as I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, I let out a shaky laugh when he pulled me to lean back into him. I was quick to notice the soft fabric of his shirt when my head came into contact with it. There’s no way in hell we’d ever sleep together because I might have let it slip we should try to avoid a publicity scandal...

“How’re ya feeling dollface?” his voice whispers into my ear. A shiver ran up my spine when he did this, allowing me to focus on anything else besides the sun peeping through the blinds of the window.

“Better now that I’m here, ‘tsumu,” I replied in a groggy tone, my voice was barely above a whisper. Honestly, I’m not as hungover as I thought either, so he must have coerced me into eating some left over onigiri he had when he offered his place to me to crash, I thought. Then, I made a mental note to add a few extra half dozen macaroons for his brother when I see him next time. What Atsumu said next threw me for a loop:

“That’s good because I want you sober to remember this,” his voice taunted me right before I felt his lips press into the sides of my neck, down my back, and onto my shoulders.

“Mmm,” my voice hummed. “’Tsumu, you’re~aah~gonna leave a mark.”

My lips curled in amusement at the map his kisses left behind. He mentioned something like he wasn’t going to stop until I properly forgave him, to which I replied with a resounding, “If I didn’t did you think I’d have accepted your offer of spending the night out on the town with you?” I held onto his hands when he paused for a moment to think.

I raised my head up when he stopped, a smug smile tugged his lips upward. I felt my eyes blink a few times processing what he was trying to ask me to do. Thankfully my partner was a patiently affectionate person this morning because he didn’t leave out much for me to figure out when I twisted around his hold to plant my lips over his own. Yet although I claimed I was sober, I was already drunk off this warmth radiating from him.

You would think that after all the hours I'd spent with Atsumu last night - watching him talk, laugh, and frown (and the same with the way I noticed his stolen glances for a few seconds when he wandered into the cafe I worked in)- that I would know all there was to know about his lips, but I hadn't figured how kind they would feel pressed up against my own just yet.

When I pulled away first, I watched the way Atsumu looked down at me, his face a little flushed from my kiss. He smirked before pressing his lips on mine again and this time, the kiss was just as invigorating as before; his calloused hands roaming every inch of my body and with one of his hands becoming lost in my hair. Eventually I crawled into his lap, using his shoulders to steady my balance when he hoisted me up prompting me to straddle his upper body. My arms looped around behind his neck, running my fingers through his hair in a coquettish manner. I blew short streams of air onto the side of his neck causing his breath to hitch in his throat right before I burrowed my face in his neck kissing the space under his ear, causing me to feel his chest rumble when I heard him chortle. I seized the opportunity to guide Atsumu’s lips back onto mine. 

We were both lost in a sea of bliss after that because from what we both could tell, this was the starting point of a hard-earned love that took it’s sweet time to develop and gods be damned was his love worth it.

[carryonmywaywardwriters]

The Boy King’s Concubine - Sam x Reader

A/N: Found it! Here you go, anon! Mildly cleaned it up real quick. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Warnings: Pure porn. Noncon. Knife Play. Blood Kink. Choking. Unprotected sex. Read at your own discretion! 

Word Count: Roughly 3,000

Boy King. The name he'd resisted for so long settled over the room. Demons would do anything to please him. Their blood ran through his veins. Giving his powers an added boost. Grooming him for the role he'd soon take on. Lucifer's vessel.

It should have been terrifying. But, the power was incredible. It ate at him from the inside out like a drug. He couldn't get enough. Even when it made him more primal. Dark inside.

“Your majesty,” A lower level, suited demon bowed in front of Sam at the table he was resting at. Making him drop the fork he'd been digging into the best meal he'd tasted in his life. Anyone who thought hell was simply dark and dreary had no clue just how seductive it could be on the other side.

“You may speak,” The once Winchester leaned back in his thrown-like chair, letting his chin rest on his knuckles as his ankle rested over his knee. Waiting to see what would be offered this time.

He was a bit stiff in his delivery. Sounding less like himself than usual. But, that's what unexpected royalty did to a person. He had an image to live up to now. He had to be clear. Concise. Perhaps even a little over the top.

“We thought you'd like...a present. For your newfound place, here.” At those words, his brow lifted. The demon let out a low whistle. Drawing forth his gift.

Ruby's lips curled up in the corner where she resided, arms tight against her chest. Knowing what was coming. After all? She'd taken special care in crafting the way to staying out of the so-called king's bed. At least, until the proper king took what belonged to him.

One by one, Sam watched a line of collared, naked women walk into the room. Hips swung. Breasts bounced. Hair fluttered. The deep hazel that was beginning to develop black on and off widened in unadulterated awe. His leg dropped to the ground as he straightened in his chair.

“Play toys, huh?” Instantly, he settled further back into his seat. Regaining some of the lost composure. Letting his eyes drift over each and every body. Already feeling his dick twitch to life. “Did they volunteer for the job?”

“They were...recruited.” Came the smug answer. Leaving it clear that the consent was there. Almost. To the demon it didn't really matter in the end. As long as the boy was left content. And, according to the dark haired female form resting in the back, the Winchester was very happy when there was a soft body for him to plow into.

You wanted to scream. To cry. Anything. But, instead, your face was held in the seductive mask the spell twisted your features into. Not that the man in front of you seemed to care. His dark, hungry eyes scanned over your bared flesh, and the others, with undeniable interest.

The recruitment had been simple. Women that wouldn't be missed from the selection of open contracts. It was nothing for the demons to make them choose. Hell hounds. Or to go with them. It had all seemed so simple to just go. Figuring you'd just be taken into Hell for the rest of existence without feeling the pain of that awful death. If only you'd realized what they'd really planned. You would've taken the hounds. Anything over becoming a demon's sex slave.

Your new owner had a face that could have been kind. Soft, bouncy hair that curled at the ends. Not too plush, but not too thin pink lips. Yet, there was something in those eyes. In the way he held his long, lean body beneath the almost baggy clothes. He was dangerous.

“Which one is it gonna be tonight, Sammy?” A woman's voice in the back gave up the man's name. Even that title seemed too kind for the eyes that collided with yours.

It was light enough for you to see the splashing of colors throughout his iris. Bright, friendly, and then a flicker of black danced through them. Not quite taking hold. It told you that he wasn't quite the creature you had initially thought. You didn't know if that made it all better, or that much worse.

He hummed, narrowing his gaze over his choices. Ruby had helped choose a diverse selection. Women of different colors, body shapes, and heights lined in front of him. When his gaze settled back on you, your stomach took a dive. As if it wasn't obvious enough, he licked his lips and nodded your way.

It was an odd sensation. You could feel the warm, sticky air on your skin. Smell the rich aromas of the food mixing with the sulfuric scent of demon as the table was cleared for the being in power. Everything in your sight was vividly real. Yet, as you started to move forward, there was a detachment. Lack of control. Even without him saying it, you knew. Sure, enough, the order was delivered at that first step.

“You...come here.” Your legs shook. You tried to tell yourself it was the fear you felt. But, really? It was the excitement your body had no choice but to carry. When you stood in front of him, long, strong fingers brushed over the front of you. From collar bone to clit. So gently that you could almost tell yourself you'd imagined it. If only he didn't speak. “Already wet...” He tsked out in approval as his digits pushed firmer along your slit, feeling the dampness that had collected there. “I'll take this one.” More ominous words had never been spoken.

Silently, he guided you until your ass was almost pressed against the table. Just close enough that your hands could brace on it from behind while you rested between his knees. His hot mouth was on your already hardened nipple, then. Sliding it between his teeth as his other grip reached around to nudge your lower back closer. Stretching your body a little further. A broken gasp left your lips, turning towards a moan at the rough touch.

“I'll get the other girls settled in, then,” Ruby kicked off the wall, striding up to you for only a moment. Gripping your chin in her hand as Sam released the throbbing nub from his mouth. Her dark eyes looked over your lust parted lips before moving up to the E/C eyes. You wondered if she could see your real emotions. “Break her in good, Sam.” A slap to your ass made you jump as she walked away. Hips swinging as she led the other women out. If she could see what rested beneath the surface, she didn't care.

The door shutting sealed you in, but it didn't empty the room. No, there were still other demons resting around. Watching in interest as their new master stood to his full height to begin the game.

“Where do I even start with you?” The low, deadly voice asked as he towered over you. Too tall. Deadly. Demanding your attention back on what was to come rather than the spectators. A small machete was lifted off the table, making your breathing stutter. “Here?” The tip of it danced over the collar bone. Then, it began a terrifying glide lower. Cool metal tracing down the slope of your breast. He stopped at the still wet nipple he'd nibbled on just moments before. “How about here?”

The stranger didn't hesitate to dive right in to what he wanted. A controlled flick of his wrist made you gasp. Instantly, a  large drop of blood welled up. The liquid slid down across the sensitive flesh in a crimson path. Staining your skin.

Before it could hit the ground, that warm mouth from before caught it. He lapped up the hot liquid all the way up to the damaged flesh of your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. Swirling the salty tang of your skin and the irony fluid in the damp heat. A quiet groan left your lips as your treacherous body leaned into the touch. The brief pain only forgotten by your nerves. Your mind far from blank at the assault.

Low shivers passed through you when that blade of his was back on the move. Sliding down over your stomach. Earning a sharp inhale from your parted lips. He must have liked the sound of that. Sam growled in approval before biting at your tender skin.

As the cool metal slid upwards, more smaller, needle point wounds began to mar your flesh. Sharp stinging dancing across the length of you. The pain was nothing to your body, though, as that slick tongue of his followed the path he'd led. Smearing the sticky red widely before he found his way to your second areola. Tracing it with that damned tongue of his.

You closed your eyes. Silently willing yourself to be able to escape. Or, at the least, to not enjoy the sick game. But, that damned spell held you captive.

It shouldn't have been so erotic. Your wild heart beat should've come from fear. Not from your body turning into a pool of quivering lust. Yet, that's what his actions inspired. The heat of it burned through every nerve.

Then, the machete started moving lower. Ghosting down to parts of you that were too sensitive. As the sharp tip nudged near your clit, your mouth opened. Finally, you could utter something.

“Sam!” Internally you cursed at the wanton moan that had emerged. He, however, seemed awfully pleased at the sound of it. Pausing, he ripped away from your nipple with a loud, effective pop. Staring into your eyes. Demanding everything he was taking and then some.

“You like that?” Hardly. You were dying at every touch. Not that anyone would have believed it if they'd looked between your thighs. The arousal was visible. Trailing down the soft skin. Slick and inviting.

“N...Yes.” It had been so close. One simple word should have been easy enough to mutter. Your eyes watered, but no tears would come. Not unless they were tears of pleasure. The spell would accept no less.

“Then, you'll love this.” He purred out, flipping the blade around rapidly. Handle up. It was less scary that way. You could handle it. Or, so you thought.

“Fuck,” The cry left your lips as suddenly as the unforgiving, hand warmed handle penetrated your entrance.

Your nails dug into the wood behind you as a too pink tongue slid over Sam's lips. He liked the sight in front of him. That much was clear. A jerk of your hips made the stiff object push in deeper. The edge of the blade held a little too close for comfort. All part of the game. Your thighs widened after a long slice appeared on your thigh.

Sam pinched the blade better so he could fuck you with it, properly. His eyes were darkening as he watched the slick coat the dark appendage as it pushed in and out of your body. How it parted your lower, swollen lips with each brush. How the blood slid down your leg in small streams while staining edge of the blade.

“So fucking wet for your new master,” He murmured, admiring the way your body sucked at the tool. Listened to the wet suction of it.“Gonna squeeze around my dick like that?” A whimper escaped you between the broken gasps. “I can feel you trying to pull this deeper...gonna take every inch of me, aren't ya?”

God no. If only your body agreed. It was hungry for everything he'd offer. You had no doubts that when he did as he wanted, he'd be buried to the root in the end. And, you'd just take it. Like the good little girl you were forced into being. Your knees wanted to buckle at the thought, but you didn't dare let them.

The relief you gained from the knife being tugged away from you was short lived. Clattering to the floor in the sudden hurry. Sam didn't bother to undress completely. His shirt was yanked over his head and tossed to the side. Leaving the rippling muscles to your eyes. Show casing that deadly strength you'd known was there all along. The belt buckle jingled as he tore open his pants. Too excited to hold back any longer.

“Oh my god,” The only honest thought you had left your lips. He was big. Too big. Long and thick. Every man, and woman's, dream cock sat heavily arched in front of you. Leaking in eagerness. “Please...” The plea ended before you could beg him to stay away.

His grip was harsh as he pushed you up and then down flat on the table, “Hold here.” Your hands did as told. Grasping into the back of your thighs to leave your body open and waiting. “So fucking good.” You felt the flared head of him rub through your folds. Letting your body's natural lubricant coat him before he caught on the edge of your opening. He groaned at the feeling. A deep guttural sound that sent another pang of arousal through your body. The scream you'd been withholding made its way out when he slammed into you in one smooth motion. So fast your body didn't have a chance to adjust. “Fuck, baby, you're so tight.” He gritted out.

His hands dug into the meat of your ribs as you arched at the fullness inside of you. So tightly there was sure to be bruises when he was done. The deep push of his heavy dick against your cervix as he began to find his rhythm made you cry out, again, brokenly. Your eyes made contact with one of the demons behind you as your blood stained tits bounced. The smug expression paired with the black eyes turned your stomach.

The wet, slapping of his skin against yours was a mix of your life force and arousal spreading over both your body and his. When you found it in you to lift your head, you could see the deep red stain spreading across his 'v' as it met with your thigh's wound over and over again.

Sweat stuck to his brow. Forcing the hair near it to cling to his face. Sam snarled as he thrust roughly. Accepting the way your body tightened around him. Seeking his own pleasure rather than being concerned for your own.

In a swift move, he ripped out of your body's hold. Lifted you up, and then flipped you over. Your hair was yanked in his hand, forcing your head back as he slammed back in without a word of warning. Too far gone for the simple gesture.

The position only served to make it tighter. Make him fit better against your g-spot as he shoved deep. The sting at your scalp was mixed with a pleasure that you'd once again blame on the spell. The clawing of your fingers against the table got you nowhere as he rode you hard. Your ass burned from the newfound strength of his thrusts.

Tears were finally able to slide down your cheeks as you screamed his name, and the word 'master' into the air. It was enough to spur him on. His toes dug in, and he filled you somehow deeper. His teeth sank into your shoulder as he tore at the strands that were fisted tightly.

You could feel it building, then. That tight, villainous coil inside of you. Your walls fluttered around Sam. Pulling him in eagerly as your orgasm approached. As he felt it, his hand left your hair. Snaking its way around your throat over the collar that left you as his prisoner.

It started slow. A simple squeeze. Then, all air flow was cut off as his fingers pressed in. You writhed against his hold; the action throwing you back to where he was near splitting you in half.

Second by second, the feeling in your body slipped away. Black appeared around the edges of your vision. You could only think that the man behind you had decided to kill you, and would finish fucking your corpse. Instead, the grip was dropped just before you blacked out.

As the oxygen and blood rushed back to your head, the pressure inside your belly exploded. The orgasm left you wordlessly, hoarsely crying out. Your nails broke as you clawed to seek more friction. The clenching of your body caused Sam's hips to rut a little more unevenly. Setting off every warning bell inside of your head.

“Master...” The whine wasn't even close to what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him to get off. Not actually get off. Yet, what came past your dry lips was, “Cum inside of me. Please.”

The unholy growl behind you let you know what was approaching. The way you whimpered only made his bruising grip harder. His short, dull nails scratched your flesh open along your back and sides. The thick, heavy weight buried so deep inside of you throbbed. Growing closer to his own end. Instead of resisting, your body milked him.

When the hot cum filled you, you dropped onto the table in defeat. Any fight your mind had held was gone. The demons had won. Their Boy King was more than satisfied. Your contract had been fulfilled. And if they were really lucky? They'd get another vessel out of the deal. Just in case...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon​​​ @supernaturalginger​​​ @lilulo-12​​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​​ @michaelneedssomemilk​​​ @lemondropirwin​​​ @fanfictionismydeath​​​ @neii3n​​​ @zpandaqueen​​

[hero--for--fun]

Ichigo and Sanji

TL;DR: Wow Stinger, your mom lets you have a boyfriend and a girlfriend?

Sanji, male, 24

~Works as a coder and graphic designer.

~Started dating Stinger and Ichigo about a month after they went official.

~Brown hair dyed pink, green eyes. Honestly I see him wearing whatever is comfortable, no matter how bad it fits his aesthetic. Literally catch him wearing a hoodie and one of Ichigo’s skirts, because it was closer than a pair of his pants, and just vibing.

~A good artist (drawing, sketching, etc.) across multiple mediums, but awful at things like clay and anything with yarn. His favorite mediums are digital, traditional, and spray paint. 

~He likes cinnamon rolls, coffee, fun socks, and collecting mugs. 

~Sanji has some combat training. He took karate classes most of his childhood (Ages 6 to 19)

~~~~

Ichigo, female, 22 (soon to be 23)

~Works part time as a waitress at a maid cafe.

~First to start dating Stinger, and she likes to tease Sanji about it. 

~Blonde hair, hazel eyes. She dyes her hair a lot though, so nobody is actually sure about her actual color. I see her wearing lots of pastel colors, with darker ones tossed in randomly on her bad days.

~An awful artist (drawing, sketching, etc.), but a pretty good knitter. She also owns a sewing machine that she uses pretty often.

~She likes roller skating, plushies, staying up late as much as possible, and listening to r/entitledparent videos while she works on projects.

~Ichigo has very little combat training, but took self defense classes.

~~~~

Assorted facts/headcanons

~Ichigo and Sanji are dating each other as well as Stinger, and while they love each other very much they have a tendency to be competitive towards one another when it comes to Stingers attention. They have a friendly rivalry that Stinger isn’t fully aware of. 

~Sanji is an fan of western comics and movies, especially The New Avengers (Kamala Khan Luke Cage, ETC.). 

~They aren’t heroes, and they’re very proud of their hero boyfriend.

~The maid cafe is actually really shitty and she lowkey hates it, but Ichigo would hate to not be working. She’d feel like a burden. Basically its a hang out spot for scummy guys and its really the bottom of the barrel for these type of places. No security for the girls, guys hit on them constantly, monsters like to come there to mess with them, and Ichigo has had at least one guy try to follow her home. She wants to work at a different cafe or get out of the business all together, but is unable to at this time

~Sanjis name is actually directly from One Piece because I liked the name when I first read One Piece. Ichigo’s name was chosen because its the name of one of my BNHA OC and I tend to recycle names from those oc’s.

~While Stinger and Sanji like to cuddle and all that while they sleep, Ichigo surrounds herself with stuffed animals and has a field day. SHE’S THE MEME OF “My girlfriend and her $500 stuffed mareep”.

~Sanji and Stinger don’t know personal space when they sleep. They take over most of the bed, hence why Ichigo has her plush barrier. They lay on one another and their almost always touching. 

~Sanji likes to draw small chibis of his  partners, cut them out, and hide them around the house.

[newgeht]

Retrouvailles

Summary: Only when it was darkest could Minerva be her true self. Her wandering eyes finding what she wanted to see the least, them. Things had developed between the celestial mage and shadow slayer while she was gone. She wanted it to go back the way it was before.  Yukino and Minerva, with side RoYu. Post-Tartaros (Prompts: Soft/Comfort) Characters: Minerva Orlando, Yukino Aguria, Rogue Cheney, Sting Eucliffe Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort Rating: M (sexual content)  Words: 4,480 FFnet | AO3

Retrouvailles - French word for the joy of reuniting with someone after a long separation; separated peoples (couple or not) to find each other

Sabertooth was bustling with mages, which wasn’t very typical on a normal day. Mages just came in quick to grab a mission and go. This was because if they didn’t meet their quota by the end of the month they would be forced to leave the guild. The mark of a tiger was not one everyone could have, but that was worn when they were number one.

Things had changed since she left…

The tigers were much more energetic, full of youth and spirit. Many more members had also joined since her time away, many of them perfectly capable of running missions by themselves. No more gloominess, just pure and unadulterated friendship and camaraderie in this guild. Maybe this was what a guild should really be. It irked her how the dynamics had changed so quickly. All for one and one for all, right?

Minerva thought their redecorating of the guild was very loud. It was far from the simple interior they previously had. The room was constructed with the most expensive mahogany, the main hall always smelling arboraceous due to the same wooden tables filling the majority of the room. Only a couple of them had plush maroon booths. Decorations consisted of red and golden accents, complimenting the wood nicely; it was odd to her how the colors harmonized with one another.

It was definitely extravagant… Where did Sting get all the money from?

Her pale nails drummed against the wood table anxiously as she stared the celestial mage, turned bartender. Yukino looked excited as she held a small notepad, her voice pure when she took an order from a mage she didn’t recognize. More specifically she stared at the girl’s pale pink lips.

Their heavy breaths were simultaneous when they finally pulled away from each other. The celestial mage’s lips glistening with her own saliva. Yukino’s cheeks hot as her lithe tongue timidly swiped across them; brown eyes glazed over with lust and something else she couldn't put her finger on.

She grasped the girl’s hands, pulling her down as she fell back onto the plush bed. This night was going to make her whole existence worth all the hardships, aches, and pains she experienced.

The territory mage grimaced as the sliver of a memory skidded through her mind. A deep sigh spilled from her as she looked over the barmaid. If only she had never left -a deep pang of regret filled her stomach.

Rogue walked through the energetic guild, taking a seat at the bar. Her brain went fuzzy as Yukino immediately acknowledged him, her heart instantaneously beginning to beat rapidly when she snuck a small kiss in from the shadow slayer.

A small smile graced those pale lips as she looked upon him. Everyone said that the couple was absolutely perfect, sadly, she couldn’t say the same. She knew their relationship developed in her absence, another needle-like pang ground into her heart.

It didn’t matter, as she and Yukino’s relationship was complicated to say the least. No one knew besides Rogue and Sting. Their stupid noses were always butting into her personal life. Especially Sting, he would always point out when she slept with someone but he knew not to say a thing when she was with Yukino. Some serious punishment would have followed if word got out about their relationship.

Her eyes narrowed as the celestial maiden happily chirped to Rogue, his red eyes glazed over with amusement as he watched her. Her heart beat faster as she stood, her body moving against her own will. What was she doing?

The bar stool felt smooth as she slid onto it, her mouth forming into a simple smirk as she looked between Rogue and Yukino.

Now she knew what she was doing, it seemed like she could never get over playing the villain. It was now the time to play as the homewrecker. The smirk turned into a playful smile as her eyes roamed over Yukino’s prominent breasts.

Soft, that was the only way she could describe the feeling of her skin. Her tanned hands slid under her usual white top, groping Yukino’s breasts through her bra. Minerva pushed her shirt over her head, pulling the petite mage close to her as she unclasped the damned thing. She pulled the taut straps down, the black bra falling to floor. Her milky white mounds seeming to glisten in the wisps of the moonlight as they fell from their entrapment.

Minerva grinned as Yukino gave a soft mewl. The sound made her crave for more, she wanted to make her scream. She pushed her perky breasts together as she pressed her lips across the tops of them. Nipping and suckling her smooth skin, Minerva was disappointed that she could never leave her mark. Her skin was unnervelling soft as she fondled them, pinching her soft pink peaks.

She took one of her dusted pink peaks into her mouth, grazing her teeth across the hardened pebble. “Minerva…” The celestial mage cried out, gripping her dark locks and pulling Minerva against her soft mound.

The maiden was at her mercy, the still soft mewls and moans spilling from her as she playfully teased her. It was always her goal to make the celestial mage plead and beg for her to stop teasing and take her to the end.

Her mind presented the memory perfectly, Minerva licking her lips as she thought of the celestial mage. The girl’s jasmine scent, wafting off of her. “Yukino, could I have a pint? I am really parched.” She grinned as she leaned against the bar. interrupting Yukino and Rogue’s conversation left her feeling somewhat accomplished.

Red eyes met hazel as she the barmaid walked away, they were saturated with annoyance and guilt. Minerva scoffed as she looked at him, the shadow slayer wasn’t worth Yukino’s time, not one bit. His eyes were definitely sizing her up and her grin still remained, he already saw her as competition. Rogue was already making it so easy to tear the both of them apart.

“How have you and Yukino been?” she inquired sardonically.

The shadow slayer seemed to pale at the question, “Fine.” Still a man of small words, she chuckled.

“No details? I’m not satiated with just fine.” Her voice came out in a respectful manner, she tried her best not to sneer at him. Nothing could be started, not yet at least.

They were comrades after all, the territory mage would try her best not to hurt him in the process.

He shifted uncomfortably, she had him right where she wanted him. “Well-”

“Here you are, Minerva.” A smile still plastered on Yukino’s face as she put the glass of beer down in front of the territory mage. Soft brown eyes looking between the two of them, completely oblivious to what had just occurred.

She was glad that they didn’t refer to her as “milady” anymore, she was far from it at this point. It was time she finally realized it, innate demonic nature was nowhere near that of a lady now. Could she really destroy Yukino and Rogue’s relationship? As she about it her thoughts were in turmoil, both sides of the argument battling one another.

Minerva took a lengthy sip of her drink, her eyes still wandering over Yukino, wondering if she missed her as much as she did. Racing thoughts of the current situation burned through her mind and she put her drink down.

“Thank you, Yukino. Just put it on my tab, I’ll pay it later.” She said cooly, her thumb wiping over the condensation on her drink.

“Of course,” the celestial mage chirped, “Anything else I can get for you?”

Minerva shook her head, “I just needed a drink.” Yukino always looked after her well-being, even when she was not the nicest to her. Even if Sabertooth forgave her for her wrong doings, she wished they didn’t. Her being was meant to live in the darkness.

She drawled on this confliction, Rogue drawing her attention back. “I know this wasn’t planned, but I’m going out to accompany Sting. He asked me to attend the guild master’s meeting with him.” This was her chance. “We’ll be out for a couple more days, and then I will be all yours.” Minerva had made him tense with her presence, but now that Yukino was back his features softened.

His girlfriend’s features dulled, “We were supposed to go out tomorrow.” Her hazel eyes looked over Yukino, she knew that she wasn’t okay with this in the slightest. Her brown eyes practically pleading for the shadow slayer to stay.

Minerva picked up on this, but Rogue didn’t notice. “I know, but this is important. He needs someone to consort with him, especially since it’s his first time attending.” His argument was solid, there was no way Yukino could argue.

The barmaiden looked utterly crushed, wiping her emotions into the counter. “I guess if you have to. You better be a good ambassador, I’ll make sure to ask Sting about your performance,” she teased. Pain still resonated in her mannerisms as she looked at Rogue, her eyes dimming with the light they previously emitted.

Minerva spoke up, “We can go on our own mission. I think it’s about time you got out from behind the counter.” Now her on-the-fly plan would be set in motion.

“Really?” The celestial mage’s face lit up, excitement fluttering through her voice. She dropped her towel, looking at Minerva. “It’s been ages since we have gone out together.” Her phrasing made the territory mage cringe a bit, it really had been in both senses.

Minerva nodded as she took another swig of her drink. “I think it’s a great idea since Rogue,”she put more emphasis on his name as she put her drink down, “is leaving for the week. We should go on a mission during that period, just to distract you for a bit. It would also be a good amount of time for us to catch up.” Her demon prowess ignited, egging the territory mage on.

Alabaster hands wrapped around Minerva’s own, squeezing them. Yukino had no idea what Minerva was about to try -it was good that she was left in the dark. The innocent maiden would have never agreed otherwise.

The Sabertooth mage dropped her hands as she spoke. “That sounds like a terrific idea! I think it would be a good idea for us to go on a mission. You can go pick one out if you’d like. I really don’t care what type it is.” On the inside Minerva grinned -she already had one in mind. Its requirements were easy and simple, and would afford them much time together in the upcoming week.

The dark-haired mage nodded and downed the rest of her drink before standing. “I will go look at the request board right now. Have a nice time together, love birds.”  Rogue’s mouth was agape as she began to saunter away, her eyes trailing Yukino’s behind as she stepped back into the kitchen.

Moonlight filtered through the grand window, the only light source filling the room. Minerva knew that her lover hated the light, her cheeks still the same color as they were earlier that evening. Yukino’s bashfulness about their activities only made her crave the sweet girl more.

Minerva flipped the poor girl over, her blue-silver hair flayed across the dark sheets. The girl’s chest heaved, her doe eyes looking up at her with pure enjoyment and excitement. She knew Yukino was exhausted but the tigress was almost, almost done with the girl that laid beneath her. Just one more time, and then they could both rest for the night.

Greedy, that's all she was. She couldn't help the fact that their sexual endeavors were far and few. But when she was finally able to be with the celestial mage, she relished in it. Her glory was something that was absolutely unattainable to her, her soft and gentle nature something she could never procure.

Hazel eyes roved over her body, much as she did the whole night. Kneeling in her presence made Minerva feel like a peasant worshipping a god, but she knew Yukino saw them as equals no matter their difference in power or personalities. The celestial mage loved her, Minerva didn't know if she could admit her love.

She leaned down and softly pressed her lips against the beautiful girl, Minerva’s thin lips catching Yukino’s in the softest manner. Maybe the girl would understand her feeling with her actions. Sure she loved to be rough with Yukino, but she could be gentle on the young mage. Surely, surely she would realize how she felt.

Would the doe-eyed mage feel the love in how she was touching her right now? Maybe even realize what she truly wanted from Yukino was a relationship? Her insides crawled with deprivation of what she longed to have -a loving relationship.

Her hand lightly squeezed her breast before roaming down her taut stomach. Smooth and soft skin, before her hand rubbed against the short patch of hair above her most sacred region.

The celestial mage whimpered faintly, giving Minerva the opportunity to slip her lithe tongue into her mouth. She still tasted sweet from their previous activities, the tigress cupping her hand over Yukino’s snatch. Two slim fingers rubbed between her pink folds, lightly pressing her thumb against her pearl.

The younger mage pulled away from Minerva’s mouth, letting out a soft moan of pleasure. The tigress grinned, cooing at the silver haired girl, “Let me hear you, my dear.”

She had barely touched her and Yukino was already at her mercy. “M-Minerva…” the younger mage huskily breathed out, “please…”

Minerva grinned, pressing the tips of her fingers against her already wet arousal. The pads of her digits grew warmer as she prodded at Yukino’s tight hole. Another soft sigh came from Yukino. “Please what?” Minerva’svoice rapsed as she pushed the tips of her fingers into Yukino’s entrance, leaving them there as she looked down into Yukino’s lust glazed eyes.

The celestial maiden bit her lip, stuttering as she gave her answer. “I w-want you to screw me w-with your fingers… again.” Minerva didn’t know that the girl’s face could turn a darker shade of red than it was previously.  

Even if her answer wasn’t spoken with much confidence, the tigress complied. An overwhelming urge of fierceness consumed her as she thrust her digits deep inside of Yukino’s pussy. Her fingers were enveloped with Yukino’s juices as she slid them into her warm cavern, grinning wildly as she pulled them back. All thoughts of going easy on her were thrown out the window.

Minerva could tell that Yukino was trying her best to keep her voice down, but that wasn’t enough as she curled her finger deep inside her snatch. Yukino practically squealed in pleasure as Minerva's nails scraped against her inner walls, pulling them back only to thrust them back inside of her. Neither of them needed a man to give them this much bliss and excitement.

Yukino writhed under the territory mage’s pumping; the latter shifting down the silver-haired beauty’s body to get a closer view of her of her nether lips. Slowly, Minerva slipped her tongue out over her pink folds, humming as she tasted the sweet nectar dripping from it.

She pulled Yukino’s soft and plump thighs over her shoulders, scooting closer to the prize in front of her eyes. Tanned hands wrapped around Yukino’s underside, groping her large cheeks and pulling the girl closer to her mouth. Minerva swiped her tongue over Yukino’s folds once more, teasing her small bud by lapping over it. The girl’s hands automatically fisted themselves into the territory mage’s hair. Minerva groaned as much as Yukino moaned from the sensations filling her body.

Minerva kept running her tongue over the younger mage’s most private area, feeling that she was soon to be close to her end.  Much like her fingers, the territory mage slipped her slender tongue into Yukino’s pussy; taking her hand to press her thumb against the maiden’s soft bundle.

Minerva’s name was tensely elicited from Yukino’s mouth. Her soft thighs wrapped around Minerva's head tightly, the celestial maiden’s heavenly juices spilling from her. It was liquid ambrosia, a gift sent by the gods themselves. Surely Yukino could feel how much the tigress loved her.

The girl sighed, her body still trembling as Minerva came to rest beside her. Their lips met again and they laid on the soft silken sheets of the territory mage’s bed. Is this what love was supposed to feel like?

When they were done, their legs were tangled in the blankets, Yukino held in Minerva’s embrace. She had caught her prey and for the time being she would never let go.

A silver head perked up, the celestial mage’s chin propped up on Minerva’s chest. “You want to know something?” Yukino spoke timidly but with an underlying joy, her eyes lighting up with the smallest twinklings of hope.  

Minerva hummed in acknowledgment, roving her hand through the girl’s short tasseled hair. So soft even after their night of sweet loving. “I want to know anything you would be willing to give me.” The tigress smiled softly, working the knots out of the Yukino’s hair.

Yukino’s deep brown eyes looked into her own, three horrifying words coming from her mouth. “I love you…” Her voice was the softest and full of elation, as if she had discovered something new.

The tigress went stiff, removing her hand from the younger girl’s hair. This is what she wanted to hear all along, how come she couldn't say anything back? Those same words were stuck deep at the bottom of her throat.

No matter how hard she tried she couldn't reciprocate those three little words. She felt a mixture of shame and fear, this was all because of her father. He would never approve of her feelings for the girl, he saw Yukino as weak. He believed that love was only for those who never wanted to prolong their prosperity of power.This was ingrained into Minerva even if she craved for it so strongly.

With every passing second, Yukino’s eyes became more and more despaired, her whole world falling much as Minerva’s was.

Her silver-blue hair a complete mess as she quickly got up from the bed, grabbing her clothes that were strewn across the room. Not once did she look back at the territory mage, her sobs resounding through the room. Both of their hearts were so full of love, only Yukino’s was being drained.

The doors to Minerva's room slammed shut, any and all reminders of Yukino gone with it. She laid there, staring off into nothingness. Her night had turned from one of the best nights of her existence to one of the worst.

This was the last time she saw her was when the celestial mage was banished from the guild. The celestial maiden rid of her clothes and scornfully thrown from the only semblance of friends and love. Jiemma snidely commenting at her attempts of wooing Minerva for a higher standing in the guild.

Minerva was aghast, she thought their relationship was a secret but her father knew all along. He was punishing her but for what? The idea of love was never allowed in Sabertooth whether it was platonic or romantic. She should have seen this coming.

Neither of them showed looked at one another as Yukino shamefully walked from the hotel’s doors.

Tears pooled in Minerva’s eyes while she looked for the request paper on the board. It was nice to see that it was always full, even when the missions were ripped from the brown cork board. She balled her fists, clenching them as the memory still haunted her. Whenever an object reminded her of Yukino or even a simple phrase, that memory ripped through her. It left guilt and pain in its wake. If only she had said something - anything would have been good.

Once her eyes settled on the request, she hastily ripped it from the board. She looked over its requirements once more just to make sure it would take a week.

It was simple enough to require little work, but the task just felt odd in general. It required a group of two to four, just to protect a giant mansion for the week. No other information was given besides the address. She knocked the feeling aside, walking back to the bar. The red bar stools called her name as she geared toward them.

Once again she sat on the cool seat, sliding the piece of paper on the dark table top. From the corner of her eye, she could see red rubies glazing over the paper, the white hand flipping it around to get a better look. Rogue cleared his throat. “Nice choice, Minerva. The difficulty seems a bit low for the two of you.”

“I never said we were going to go all out. We’re still going to relax and take a break.” Once again, Minerva replied coolly. A man could never stand in the way of her goal.

Acknowledging her statement, his dark bun bounced when he nodded. “It's not far either. You two could walk instead of taking the train.”

It was a good idea, but she didn't want to let him feel good about the comment. “I'm still taking the train. I don't want to run into any trouble on the way there.”

Yukino came and plucked the paper from Rogue’s hands. Her eyes quickly flitted over it, a small smile forming on her face. “I don't mind if we travel by foot,” the barmaid spoke to Minerva, “but this mission is perfect. I've never heard of the mansion, it's name is peculiar. The pay is extremely good too. So it's worth the amount of work.”

Rogue interjected, “From what it looks like, you guys are only guarding a house. Doesn’t seem like there would be much work involved.”

Yukino tilted her head at him, lifting a finger to her lips. “True. Although someone could try to raid the home.”

Minerva cut her off with a sarcastic remark. “I wonder why they sent a request in then.”

“To protect the house, Min-Min.” The statement really flew over Yukino’s head, but the nickname made the tigress’ stomach flutter. Even if Yukino was oblivious, she made up for it in other ways; more specifically in her own little nuances. But Minerva loved her for the whole entirety of her being, the smallest things the celestial maiden did poked a hole in her each one making her ooze with affection; she was surprised she wasn’t at her wits end.

“Yukino, she knew that already,” Rogue chuckled, shaking his head. His hand effortlessly laid on top of Yukino’s, rubbing his thumb over it. Hazel eyes looked over this small movement, Minerva’s stomach boiling.

The girl grew flustered, “O-Oh… Sorry Minerva.” She pulled her hand away from Rogue’s, continuing to wipe her hand over the dark counter.

Before the territory mage could answer, a hand clapped down on the dark cloak Rogue was wearing. “Hey guys, having fun without me?” Their guild master intervened, settling himself into the barstool next to his polar opposite.

His opposite shook his head, “Just having a small conversation about the upcoming week. Speaking of which, have you finished packing your stuff? We have to leave in a couple minutes.”

The blond burst into a fit of laughter, everyone looking at him as some tears formed in his crystalline eyes. “I thought we left in a hour, man!”

Simultaneously, they all rolled their eyes at his idiocy. Minerva wondered how he fell into the position of leading this guild. She truly did love her guildmates, and if not love, she tolerated them. But she was constantly bouncing back and forth between adoring Sting and having the urge to wring his neck. The blond really did know how to grind her gears.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Rogue drawled, eyeing Sting. “The trip is eight hours by train, and you pull this right now?” His face began to draw back in annoyance, not noticing Yukino’s disapproval of him.

The barmaid chided, “You never told me you were leaving so soon, Rogue.” Yukino’s face was hard, looking down at him as he sat in the bar.

The shadow mage shook his head, tutting at his girlfriend. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it when I have important business to take care of.” His response was surprising to the group, their eyes widening with shock as his brooding statement.

“Yes you do, you could have told me. You didn’t even mention it to me until today. How come you’ve been so forgetful lately?” Her voice was filled with disappointment, this seemed to provoke Rogue even more.

Red eyes sharply turned toward Yukino in frustration. “Do I need your permission to do anything? No, I do not. I’m sorry that we had to miss our dinner tonight, but there will be other times to do that.” He stood, placing both of his hands on the countertop, towering over Yukino now. Minerva’s teeth gritted as she watched him - she could take him on but it wasn’t her place to intervene at the moment. Time felt like it was moving unimaginably slow as their small quarrel took place. ”This is more important right now and that is final.” Insolent, Minerva thought. How could he say such a thing to her?

One the other hand, Yukino looked like a kicked puppy left on the side of a muddy road. Not one word came out of her mouth - instead she looked down, her brown eyes not daring to meet her lover’s. Her pink lips quivered, those same eyes tearing up.

Rogue didn’t look over her or reassure the celestial mage, rather he turned to Sting, frustration pent up in his voice, “Let’s go, now.” He grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder as he walked out of the guild. Sting got up, not sure of what to do; he patted Yukino’s hand reassuringly and followed his counterpart out. Minerva hoped that he would deal with Rogue in the best manner possible.

The tigress’ hazel eyes turned back to Yukino, fine crystals falling down her pale face. Minerva was frightened at the thought of consoling her. She had pretty much did the same thing to Yukino… How could she help?

Gently, she put her olive toned hand over the younger mage’s, boldly intertwining their fingers. Brown eyes flicked up with contentment and Minerva put on the softest smile.

Everything was going to work out in their favor.

[itsyouraveragebooklover]

Timeline - Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you for all the support and love for this series! I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter! As always the characters do not belong to me but without further ado lets just jump right into the story~

Tagged: @aelinashgalathynius @my-fan-side @bookofmaas @iconicillyrians

One line summary: This is the timeline of their most important journey.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4: Part 1

“Everything grows rounder and wider and weirder, and I sit here in the middle of it all and wonder who in the world you will turn out to be.” - Carrie Fisher

Chapter 3: 10 weeks

Almost every morning, Nesta’s eyes would willingly flutter open to pitch black. It would take moments for her vision to adjust to the darkness of her room and make out various shapes pushed up against the walls. She would rub her eyes hoping to shake away the clutches of sleep and endless dreams until her thoughts became clearer.

As her furniture came into view she mustered all her strength to lift herself up and quietly toss back the sheets. The glow of moonlight was more visible on the floor helping illuminate more of the space and wake Nesta. With dreaded realization, she knew full well that sleep wouldn’t capture her again.

It became routine now.

Each day before the morning light cracks above the horizon Nesta would instinctively awaken. No matter how much she tosses and turns or wills her eyes shut, she wouldn’t feel the sinking bliss of her body loosening against the mattress. Not until dusk at least.

A silent sigh escaped her as her legs dangled over the side of the bed causing her toes to brush against the wooden floor. For minutes Nesta would sit in complete silence and listen.

She would listen to the crickets chirping outside her window and the plants rustling in the breeze. She would listen to the night bats flapping their wings and the owls hooting against the breeze. She would listen to Cassian’s steady breath as he inhaled and exhaled passed his parted lips. To make sure her mind didn't deceive her she glanced over her shoulder at his sleeping form.

With relief, she sees his chest evenly rise and fall like it should. He is breathing. He is alive. He is here beside her.

With the thought tucked away Nesta tested her weight against the floorboards. She winced underneath its slight creak and quickly snapped her head back towards Cassian. Just as before he was still as stone.

It was in moments like these when she couldn’t quite tell if he was genuinely asleep or pretending to be. Cassian, after all, is the Commander of the Night Court’s military forces and when one has been through so much pain, death, and war it quickly teaches you how to rest with all your senses on high alert.

Without a doubt, Nesta waking and rustling the sheets no matter how silently she persists to be would wake him. However, he continues to lay there unmoving and calm just as he does every morning now.

Nesta couldn’t help but skim over his figure one last time. His dark hair unbound and ruffled. His sculpted body tangled amongst the sheets and plush pillows. His wings comfortably tucked against his body.

But not normal wings. Scarred wings. Wings that still mean everything to him. Wings he practically sacrificed for her over and over again without a second thought.

The sight of them caused her heart to sink with guilt. Guilt because she would always remember the sound of Cassian’s cries. She would remember the crunch of bone and the snap of his wings underneath the boot of a monster. A monster who murdered her father with the twist of his hands as if it were child’s play.

The thought sends a shiver down her spine causing her skin to tingle.

Nesta shakes her head trying to remove the unneeded intrusion of the past. A past far gone and buried deep.

They all survived. They’re all alive. They’re all healing together.

She repeats these three phrases to herself in remembrance. And with each day it works a little more.

Before she had come to realize, the morning light starts to filter into their room. A dull blue glow lightens with each second until she could spot the familiar pinks and purples peeking above the skyline.

With time she watched the sun show itself and emit it’s golden rays to Velaris. The light kissed her skin giving it much needed warmth until a figure from behind stirred awake.

Subtly Cassian lifted himself and planted a kiss on Nesta’s shoulder letting her take in his presence.

She looked at his drowsy form shifting closer until they were side by side bathing in sunlight together. He looked at her and gave her a small smile as if knowing what plagued her thoughts minutes before. His eyes were sincere and forgiving as if urging her to banish away the guilt living deep within.

He seemed to say with one look that if the choice ever came down to living a life with her or his wings, Cassian would pick her every single god damn time.

His calloused fingers intertwined with hers and gently lifted her up to two steady feet. She grasped onto his arm enjoying the feel of his skin beneath her touch.

The pair walked towards her wardrobe and tugged on the brass handles revealing a draw filled with form-fitting gowns.

Her fingers skimmed over the different fabrics of velvet, cotton, linen, and silk until landing on a navy blue cotton floor length dress.

Cassian respectfully turned around to give Nesta some privacy and headed over to his own space.

Nesta quickly slipped out of her nightgown letting it pool by her feet until shimming into her selected dress. With a tug and pull of her bodice, Nesta managed to fit.

However, it’s tighter than she remembered.

Curiously the Emissary glanced at herself in the bronze bordered mirror she admired so much. Her eyes traveled down to the area where the fabric clung to the closest.

She glanced down at the very small rounding belly below and smiled to herself. That soon huh?

Though the growth is small it's still a little noticeable when she changes in and out of outfits. As far as she knew all her clothes were intended to fit her petite frame and nothing more.

Through the mirror, Nesta spotted Cassian peeking over her shoulder to meet her gaze. She noticed him already sporting his staple Illyrian leathers and tying off a section of hair into a bun. Those muscular arms of his wrapped around her frame and let his fingers gently land on her stomach.

There the two stood in content silence, not needing words to convey the emotions running between them.

“You’re finally showing a bit,” Cassian finally broke the silence with a whisper. “We need to purchase some new clothing for you and that ever-growing belly of yours.”

Nesta scoffed at him out of instinct but he was right. With each week she’ll show more and more and her current wardrobe wasn’t supplied with anything loose. They’ll have to take a trip into the heart of Velaris for the day very soon.

Nesta simply nodded and leaned back into his embrace. Their two hands were still laid on her abdomen not realizing the time ticking by.

“We’ll have to tell them soon,” Cassian murmured placing his cheek on top her flowing hair. His fingers started rubbing soothing circles on her skin for reassurance as if sensing her nervousness. “Whenever you’re ready of course.”

The words echoed inside of her. He had a point yet again, no matter how much she wanted to admit it.

The Inner Circle has yet to find out about their current situation and the healer who broke the news to them kept Nesta’s condition to herself.

A couple more weeks and her belly would be big enough for her sisters to notice. So she would have to tell them soon before they figure things out for themselves.

She’ll tell them once she passes 13 weeks. That way she knows the risk of losing the baby will decrease significantly.

Baby.

Her baby.

Even in her mind, it still sounds foreign. She couldn't believe this was happening. That Cassian and herself would travel down this road together. It would still take time for the idea to settle.

“I’m afraid for their reactions,” she spoke looking up at him into those burning hazel eyes.

He placed his forehead to hers and chuckled to himself knowing full well how overly dramatic their family could be.

“I think Rhys and Azriel would be much worse than your sisters. They’re complete drama queens when it comes to this stuff.”

Nesta glanced at him with a lifted eyebrow, “really?”

He flashed a smirk and merely nodded in return.

“What did we just get ourselves into…” she breathed.

His only response was a tumble of laughter as Cassian spun her around and pulled her in close.

"Don't worry sweetheart," she felt his breath tease her lips as he paused then continued, "it'll be memorable."

"I'm sure it will," she spoke planting her hands on either side of his cheeks and pulled him down into a kiss.

[janescymour]

anew. (explicit)

can be read alone or as a sequel to full. darkish emperor kylo and empress rey with a fair bit of fluff at the end because i’m a weak soul. also available on ao3. anyway, enjoy. xo e. 

They rule together in robes of black and burgundy satin and silks, the stitching immaculate as the fabrics coat their bodies and fall across their skin. Rey looks every bit an empress, her hair long and dark, half of it knotted at the top of her head like an intricate crown. Her face is stone, always, never wavering. She is a queen of ice on the outside, stoic and commanding. Her eyes are harshly rimmed with kohl, her lashes impossibly long. She loves to command and rule, to dispense justice where it is needed and reward loyalty when it is due. Kylo tells her all the time this is what she was meant for. He sends her images of their galaxy through the bond — a dark castle on a planet, a new capital, a buzzing city that flits beneath their palace. Crowds worshipping at their feet and Rey drowning in admiration from their people. This is the world they will build together.

***

She thought destruction was what awaited her, but she will rebuild with her emperor at her side. She takes his hand, as she always does, when they are wed and crowned on the very same day. Rey doesn’t think of the friends who have found new purpose now. She does not even miss them. How could she when she is in a crowd of twenty thousand cheering citizens, chanting her name, filling that awful, dark part of her that fears rejection still? She sits facing Kylo, down on their knees together in front of everyone, as if to say we shall only bow to each other and no one else. The silver coronet ladened with the finest jewels is lowered on her head, sealing her fate for all the world to see. She smirks when Kylo is crowned Emperor — the title of Supreme Leader is useless to him, he says, what power does he really have with something so blatantly made up? Rey grins and tells him he has all the power in the world — he can burn cities and planets to the ground in an instant if he wishes. That’s what matters. “Eyes on me,” she mouths, instilling herself as an anchor.

***

The coronation feast is in excess. There are tables and tables of food: sweets, savory meats, rich and ripe vegetables and harsh and light wines. It is more than Rey has ever seen in her life and she hates that. It feeds through the bond, wide open like a flood, her anger besting her in this moment until Kylo wraps one hand around the back of her neck, lips at her ear: hush now, beautiful girl, the world belongs to you. You will have everything. He towers over her, long and broad, lanky, his darkened form casting shadows in front of where Rey stands. It is utterly possessive and he’s hardly touching her. She eyes him and then the tables once more. He is right.

***

Kylo feeds her from his hand, slick juice from the fruit dripping from his wrist as he presses it to Rey’s sweet lips. She moans in pleasure when it touches her taste buds, unable to recall anything quite so nice, even on the Resistance Base where food had never been an issue. He cuts something new up for her before he spreads it on his fingers, letting her mouth draw his digits in to suck them clean. Rey can feel the excess dribble from the side of her mouth, leaving a trail of stickiness across her jaw and neck before it dips to run down the front of her chest. It is now Kylo who looks starved and denied. He looks as hungry as Rey has always been. Rey hooks a leg around his hip, pulling him in closer as greedy little fingers work their way to the fruit tray beside her head. “More,” she says. “Please.” After a beat.

***

They take their chambers together — there is no point in being apart. The bond screeches when Kylo and Rey are separated and it is a consequence neither wishes to recognize. They are tied together, intertwined; one cannot live without the other. Rey clings to him when they fall into their plush mattress, the sheets and duvets swallowing their bodies. “Kylo,” Rey murmurs, gracefully sliding her legs over his hips so she straddles him.

“Rey,” he replies, inching his fingers up her thighs, pushing up the silken night gown until her perfect cunt lies exposed to him. “You’ve always been so beautiful. Even when you had no idea what you were capable of.”

She leans down to kiss him fiercely, sealing their fates once more.

***

The emperor and his empress are slow to rise in the morning, preferring to spend the early hours in sleepy pleasure. Kylo rises before Rey, his little scavenger finds comfort in her rest after all her difficult years. She no longer has to be up at sunrise to have food. But he always gets antsy, wanting her awake with him, to have her attention — to have her hazel eyes staring at him like he’s all she needs.

He wakes her gently, curling his body around hers, hands draping over her chest. He palms her breasts slowly, sighing as Rey’s flesh molds to his own. Her tits are small but pert, fitting perfectly in the palm of his hand. She was made for him, carved with his form in mind — Kylo is sure of it. He peppers kisses across her shoulder, lips trailing every inch of skin he can reach before he turns Rey to her back, moving slowly down so that he slips between her thighs.

Kylo always loves the way his girl tastes, licking long stripes up and down her center until she’s bucking and sobbing with how badly she wants to come, back bowing in a sharp curve as she presses herself down on his tongue. He’s too happy to let it slip inside her as Rey fists her tiny hands in his hair as her thighs tighten around his head, caging him in so he can’t stop, can’t get away, so that his tongue is the only thing she knows. She cries out his name when she comes, heels digging into his shoulder blades as she rides it out.

He lays between her legs, cheek pressed against her thigh, his face still damp with her orgasm. Kylo watches Rey’s face with lidded eyes, brown irises searing as he watches her reactions when his hand strokes up and down her center. Her pretty cunt is swollen with arousal and she’s absolutely dripping, coating his fingers where he touches her. “The way you taste, Rey...” he mumbles into her skin as he slips his index finger inside her once more. “The way you smell.” His tone is reverant. 

Kylo groans, nipping her skin with his teeth as he drags his finger out of her and upwards until he reaches her clit.

Rey whimpers and bucks her hips against him, “Too sensitive,” she whispers, reaching down to tangle her hand in Kylo’s hair.

“I know,” he croons, moving his ministrations lower before he rises to his knees, throat going dry at the sight of Rey spread so bare and wantonly before him. Her wetness pools at the base of her cunt, staining the sheets below her. He takes a deep breath through his nose as he spreads it messily on her thighs, entranced by the way it dries and leaves a slick sheen on her tanned skin.

“Want you,” he says, trembling with desire as he dips his thumb into her entrance. Rey rocks against it with a moan before he drags it downward, dripping with wetness, past her perineum to the tight ring of muscles that seem so deliciously forbidden. “All of you.”

Rey’s breath hitches when Kylo presses against it, though he does not enter her.

“Yes,” she breathes.

***

Rey does not expect denunciation from the galaxy, even if comes in the form of a lone planet. It has a population large enough that it makes her blood boil that any citizen would dare have the audacity to oppose their rightful rulers in a new world. She watches her empire’s base be destroyed via Hux’s holovid and tightens her fists in anger.

“Destroy them,” she commands, standing from her position in Kylo’s lap where she had been perched upon their shared throne. Rey’s bare feet bounce across the smooth floor in her fury as she approaches the redheaded general.

“ — Empress, if I could...” Hux begins, “There might be one other...”

His throat constricts before he can say anything else. Hux’s face turns a deep red as Kylo takes his place behind Rey, his hand wrapped gently around the back of her neck. It is terrifying how sweetly he touches his queen when he is strangling a man at her feet and yet it feels as though it is the most natural thing in the world.

“It was not a suggestion,” Kylo says, voice raw. “It was an order.” He releases Hux without another word, the man remaining on his knees in his rulers’ shadows.

***

Rey always thinks her name sounds like a prayer on Kylo’s lips. It sounds best when his mouth is dark pink and bruised with her harsh kisses and the bites she leaves with her teeth. It sounds best when he has her pressed to her knees, hands locked in her long hair, thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth. He fucks her throat with no qualms, fingers moving to trace her jaw gently, coaxing it open so that he might slide deeper. The emperor always calls out for her, over and over, grunting her name when her nose presses to the thatch of hair his pubic bone.

She’s so absolutely good for him, his little scavenger, his empress, moaning and mewling around his length as tears stream down her cheeks from lack of oxygen and the way he gags her. Maybe it should feel like a punishment but it doesn’t — not with how he’s telling her you are everything, I’ve waited my entire life for you, I would burn down the galaxy for you before his words turn filthy, Rey, I’d fuck you forever, you take my cock so well, don’t you, sweetheart? Is this what you’ve wanted? Tongue out, Rey, and swallow.

Rey keens and heaves for breath when Kylo releases his hold on her, her hazel eyes wide and watching Kylo as he takes his length into his hand and pumps, fisting himself up and down and up and down until he spends himself on her taste buds. She adores the taste of him, lapping it up and catching what slips out of the side of her mouth, licking it greedily off her thumb.

***

Perhaps they are depraved. Perhaps they are greedy. Perhaps they are simply devoted. It is a mix of all three. “Do you hear the way they cheer for us?” Kylo whispers, pressing his left hand flat against the glass next to Rey’s head.

“Mmm,” she hums.

“It is how it should be. You were meant to stand by my side.”

Rey fits her fingers into the empty spaces between his, nodding. “Always.”

“Have you everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

“Nearly.”

***

Rey asks to take a ship to see the planet that’s in active rebellion destroyed. She demands it to be just her and the emperor, as it always should be — as it always will be. She’s in a new role but she’s still Rey, still the same little scavenger from Jakku that begged and pleaded for a place to belong. Still a pilot.

Kylo stands behind her, hand braced on the back of her neck, fingers playing in the stray strands of hair as they watch fire rain down, burning the city to the ground and all those that inhabit it. She almost wishes they were on the ground watching those who dared claim she and Kylo have no right to rule fall where they stand. She'd like to see them fall at her feet in something other than reverence. 

“No,” Kylo says immediately, sensing her thoughts as soon as she thinks them. Her mind is just as much his and his hold on her tightens reflexively. “Absolutely not. You’ll stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

“I know,” Rey replies, bottom lip pouting out. “I just…”

He shushes her with a finger to her lips.

Kylo fists the back of her tunic in his free hand, sliding it up so he can touch the smooth surface of her skin as his leans forward to press his lips to the nape of her neck. “You did this,” he whispers, “This is all you.”

She can’t help the whimpering moan that falls from her lips.

He takes her there, hard and heavy, fingertips bruising her hips as he thrusts his cock into her from behind, sliding deep inside her cunt. The explosions from below shake their ship and it only sends Rey higher, encouraging her to move, to thrust her hips back to his so he can bury himself within her cunt. Her toes skim the surface of the floor as Kylo fucks her, pushing her up against the control panel of the ship, breath fogging up the view panel. “Harder,” she whispers, leveraging as she bends over fully, winding her hand between her legs to rub at her clit. She still finds it incredible to feel Kylo’s length sliding in and out of her when she touches herself. It’s enough to send both of them falling over the edge of oblivion.

She comes when the final explosion rings out, signaling the end of those who would oppose them.

***

Rey lays her hands flat across her swollen belly, padding lightly around the room as Kylo sits at the desk in the center of the room. There’s work to be done but he can’t take his eyes off Rey for more than a second to even think about starting it.

He’s entranced with the way she moves slowly now, her back arched with the growing baby in her belly. She carries their heir, a strong one, if what they both feel through the bond is anything to judge by.

“I have everything I wanted,” Rey says, face lighting up into a smile — one that isn’t cruel or bent on creating or destroying — one that is just peace.  “Do you?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, holding his hand out to her. “I do.”

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

"Listen, I really don’t like you, but you have kittens, so I’m going to be over a lot.” au - pretty please?☺️

This is more pre-slash than anything, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! (also on ao3!)

Stiles' next door neighbor was an asshole.

A complete and utter asshole. An asshole of giant proportions.

He was the kind of asshole who left passive aggressive post-it notes on Stiles' front door nearly every morning. Always about the most insignificant shit, too.

Notes telling Stiles to keep his music down even though he had only been playing it at medium volume. How his neighbor could hear it over his shower would forever be a mystery. Dude must have superhuman hearing.

Notes asking Stiles to do his laundry at another time so the noise wouldn't disturb his neighbor's sleep. Why that would matter considering the fact that Stiles usually did his laundry in the middle of the afternoon escaped him.

Notes informing Stiles that he needed to take out his garbage, claiming that it was starting to smell. And, yes, his asshole neighbor may have had a point there but how in the hell did he know? It wasn't like he could smell it, right?

Then there were notes requesting that Stiles stop using so much garlic in his cooking. How that was any of his neighbor's business was way beyond him.

But even that wasn't enough for Stiles to draw the line. No, that came when his neighbor started leaving notes complaining about Stiles' cat.

Stiles had adopted his cat, a lovable little brown tabby tomcat that he had named Hurley, just a few weeks after moving into his apartment. It was his first time living on his own, having shared a dorm with his friend while attending Stanford, and he had found himself in need of some company.

Sure, his dad just lived on the other side of town, but even that wasn't enough. Stiles was too prone to loneliness to go without a roommate, even if said roommate had four legs and whiskers.

And Hurley was paws down the best roommate Stiles had ever had.

He was clean and pretty quiet for the most part. The only time he ever made much noise was when he felt like he wasn't getting enough attention or his food bowl was empty.

For the most part, he was content to just run around the apartment playing with his cat toys. And beyond that, he liked to doze in the sun or on Stiles' lap, stoned out of his mind on catnip.

The best thing about owning a cat rather than a dog was how independent they were. Hurley could entertain himself for hours while Stiles was at work, usually alternating between sleeping and gorging himself on cat food.

Good thing he did all that running around. Otherwise, he would probably be overweight. Not that Stiles would love him any less.

Hurley was the perfect mix of independent and cuddly. He was almost always willing to curl up on the couch with Stiles while he watched TV after his shift at the station yet there were times when he would rather nap alone.

He greeted Stiles every morning with a happy little trill and welcomed him home from work with the sound of his paws on the hardwood floor as he raced to the front door. He was the perfect companion.

So when Stiles' neighbor started leaving notes complaining about Hurley, he lost his temper a little bit.

After the first note complaining about the sound of the bell on Hurley's collar, Stiles had intentionally played his music twice as loud every time he showered for the next two weeks. He had gotten a note about that too.

The only notes that had any credence to them, were the ones informing Stiles that Hurley had managed to slip out into the balcony again. Somehow the little sneak kept figuring out how to open the sliding glass door.

While that wouldn't be a problem if Stiles had his own balcony, that wasn't the case. He just so happened to share a balcony with his asshole neighbor, divided only by a metal railing.

Hurley could slip right through the bars and venture over into Asshole Neighbor's balcony. And from there? Right into sand neighbor's apartment.

Which is precisely why Stiles was standing in front of his neighbor's door with a gift bag full of cat toys in his hand.

"C'mon, dude!" He called, lifting his free hand to knock on his neighbor's door again. Groaning in annoyance, he raised his voice to plead "Let me in! I want my time with the babies!"

"They're not babies, they're kittens," a gruff, now familiar voice barked as the front door was yanked open to reveal Stiles' asshole neighbor. Better known as one Derek Hale.

Stiles smiled innocently at his neighbor, forcing himself to ignore the swarm of butterflies that took flight in his stomach at the mere sight of the veritable god come to earth that was his neighbor. Brandishing the bag in his hand, he beamed at Derek, announcing, "I come bearing gifts. For the babies."

Derek rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He leaned over to rest against the door jamb, blocking Stiles from entering his apartment.

His dark red Henley was stretched tight across his chest, snug around his muscular biceps. Stiles tried not to notice how nice it looked on Derek, suddenly feeling woefully inadequate in his threadbare flannel and ripped jeans.

"Oh, c'mon, Derek!"' Stiles whined when the other man didn't budge, an immovable statue standing in the doorway. Slumping his shoulders and dropping his head back, he griped, "We need to get along now. We're practically in-laws, dude!"

"Don't call me dude," Derek grumbled, moving aside enough to let Stiles into his apartment. Stiles strode inside with a self-satisfied smile that dropped off his face like a dead fly when Derek spoke again, grousing, "And we're not in-laws. Your cat got mine pregnant."

Stiles winced. Because, yeah, that was pretty much the long and short of it.

Apparently, all those times Hurley was so desperate to get out onto the balcony and into Derek's apartment was because he had a lady friend waiting for him. A lady friend who just so happened to be in heat.

So much for the local animal shelter's guarantee that every cat they adopted out was spayed or neutered.

Around two weeks after one of Hurley's longer visits, Stiles woke up to find the most urgent note to date. His neighbor's typically neat handwriting had been somewhat sloppy as it spelled out the message: We need to talk.

Stiles had just rolled his eyes when he had found the note stuck to his front door, letting out a groan. Getting chewed out by his neighbor for whatever he had done that time had not ranked high on his list of things to do on his day off.

His day had been slightly brightened by the discovery of the fact that his grumpy neighbor was drop dead gorgeous with his dark stubble, beautiful hazel eyes, and god-like physique. If he had known he was living next door to a fucking Calvin Klein model he might have been a little more neighborly.

His good mood had been significantly dampened when his neighbor had glared at him and announced that his cat was pregnant. And since there weren't any other cats on their floor and she hadn't yet been introduced to the cat she was supposed to be breeding with, Hurley was most definitely the father.

A little under two months later, Derek had knocked on his door to inform him that Hurley was officially the father of five newborn kittens. That had only been a few days ago and Stiles had made it his personal mission to visit every day since to visit his grand-kittens.

Derek had only begrudgingly allowed him into his apartment to see the kittens, constantly rolling his eyes as Stiles baby talked the kittens. His cat, Willow, was much more welcoming, licking Stiles' hand whenever he reached over to pet her.

She was a beautiful cat, a purebred blue point ragdoll with fur as fluffy as a cloud and eyes so blue they were more periwinkle than anything. Living up to her breed's reputation, she was extremely calm and affectionate, with both her kittens and the humans who kept fussing over them.

Bag of toys in hand, Stiles waited for Derek to close the front door before following him further into his apartment. He led Stiles deeper into the living room, over to the large cat bed where Willow was curled up with her kittens.

"Aww... Hey, babies," Stiles greeted, keeping his voice soft as he sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the cat bed. The area rug Derek had spread out on the hardwood floor was soft and plush, much more comfortable than sitting on the hard floor itself.

Willow glanced up at him with a lazy blink, letting out a deep purr. Stiles smiled to himself as he set down his bag, running his eyes over the tiny shapes of the kittens.

Derek had already taken the liberty of naming them. The two blue points girls were named Lily and Camellia. The two blue tabby points were Bella and Beau.

He had left the name of the remaining kitten, a brown tabby who looked almost identical to Hurley, up to Stiles. He had finally decided on Claude after a couple days of deliberation. Derek had seemed to approve.

Reaching into his bag as Derek took a seat on the floor beside him, Stiles rifled around for a toy. He pulled out a blue and orange crinkle ball, Willow looking up at the sound.

"I know, right?" Stiles cooed, setting the crinkle ball down on the floor. Beaming at Willow, he remarked, "Orange and blue. Best color combination there is."

"Of course you're a Mets fan," Derek scoffed, shaking his head. Stiles just stuck his tongue out at him before grabbing another toy out of the bag, a small yellow ball with a bell inside.

Derek rolled his eyes again. As Stiles set down the noisy ball beside the first one, Derek reminded him, "Their eyes aren't even open yet."

"I know," Stiles dismissed, grabbing a handful of toys out of his bag. He had picked up a wide assortment from the local pet store, everything from feather lures to plush mice stuffed full of catnip. "But you're never too young for presents. Isn't that right, Willow?"

Leaning back, he shrugged and conceded, "Besides, it's my fault we're in this mess. I should've double checked with the shelter. Should've made sure Hurley couldn't keep getting out."

Derek didn't say anything. Biting the inside of his lip, Stiles nodded at the kittens and ventured, "You decided what you're gonna do with them yet?"

"One of my sisters is thinking about taking one," Derek murmured, reaching out to very gently run the pad of his finger down Lily's back. Smiling softly, he admitted, "But other than that, I have no idea. I'm getting pretty attached to them."

Stiles found himself smiling at that, too. His neighbor may seem like a big bad wolf but he was just a big puppy dog at heart.

As he tipped his head to the side, watching Derek check on the kittens, Stiles conceded that maybe his neighbor wasn't as much of an asshole as he thought.

[swooncraft]

Write Weds - Cordate Pt 1

Cordate Of Royal We

A Novel of Everyday Combat

By Juliet Riddle

[Ch. 01]

The smell of wet concrete was everywhere. Something about it brought up memories of a hot spring. Of a beach. Of Vizy and Ani. They were more than images. Feelings, smells and sounds were coupled with the memories triggered by the scent. It was oppressing. It was depressing. But I was remembering. That was a feat in itself. A simple thing that brought a weak smile to my lips. My eyes opened and I recalled instantly what struck me down. The streaking shine of the crowbar before impacting my head made me twitch.

Half of my face was covered in a crusted coagulated crimson, making a sick sucking sound as I lifted off the street floor. The instant throbbing in my skull made me want to lay back down. I fought it and looked to my objective. There was a note on the door.

Before standing I waited to regain some of my senses while wiping my face off with my handkerchief. The dawn was perfect, the sun was still low enough that there wasn't too much light to sear the back of my eyes, and not too early where I couldn't see. The lone lamp in the lot fought against the dawn to provide more light, but it was loosing. Similar to my small weak attempts to make a difference for my team against all of the best players. There was something more I had to be able to do.

The elite call it the Game. The insane call it War. The regulars call it Sand. It was an idea shared by wealthy and powerful people. In secret they collaborated, and piece by piece took over a metropolis as the foundation of the entertainment they were seeking. Implementing a structure that resembled several video games was the next step. The Investors placed the Scorekeepers in and rounded up the first teams a few years ago. Since it's first match, Sand has grown to have over 100 players each in teams of seven. Half were integrated into the justice system, as vigilantes. The other half of us are burglars.

Lawless, uncoordinated criminals. The evidence was on the door I was trying to break into a few hours earlier. On the note was scrawled: “Thx for the ez win again! -9” That's right. 9 was the one who attacked me. The Nippon had more skill than me, enough that she didn't bother drawing her wooden sword. Instead, she disarmed me and knocked me out with my own weapon.

A bitter taste filled my pallet. Which I responded to by ripping the paper from the door. That instant the damn thing fell from it's hinges making me flinch as it crashed inward. I crumpled up the note and threw it at the entryway for good measure.

It was time to get back home. I checked the pocket my phone should have been it. It was missing, meaning I couldn't immediately contact my team or look at the outcome of the match. I couldn't remember anything about the match. I rationalized that it must have been a three objective pickup. The unfortunate thing about my team, Royal We, was our handicap. There was four of us left. I had obviously gone solo to one of the objectives. What else could have happened was beyond me.

My Tag is Cordate. My dead ex, Visitor, gave it to me, because it means heart shaped, and as he said, it fits me because of my ass. That was him in a nutshell, a pig and an asshole. But he was damn good at what he did in this lifestyle before he was Banned. His Ban was one link in the chain of events that crippled Royal We down from a full top tier team to the four of us that were left.

When I had first joined several months prior I was still learning how to defend myself. How to be useful on the field. My ability didn't come quick enough and I suffered a concussion that put me in the hospital for a week. Something in Vizy and our best strategist, Anemone, broke. They retaliated, and Ani went too far, breaking the only real rule Sand has. My attacker died by her hands. Ani's Ban, sent Vizy over the edge, he pulled strings, called in favors and convinced several burglar teams to raid a facility. The Scorekeeper building showed a few dozen players secrets that no one was prepared for.

The raid barely made it into the first floor before teams turned on Royal We for misleading them. Moments later, the Scorekeepers agents, known as Peers, retrained the players. And Banned the leader.

With Vizy and Ani out, that left us with five. It wasn't long after I left the hospital that our tech guy, Crunch, was sent in from a coma. With a third of the players holding a grudge against us it was no surprise.

Since then, we've been hanging on. I'm not sure how, but similar to the luck of me finding my discarded crowbar in an alley a few blocks away, Royal We still had some strange luck left. Unfortunately the steel was bent.

The rest of the walk home included me trying to bend my crowbar back and a few stops as my head spun. I had no doubt that 9's attack damaged me again, I just hoped it wasn't as bad as the first concussion.

The sun had fully risen by the time I meandered back to Royal We's headquarters. When burglar teams are formed their first mission is to claim somewhere to live. I've been told there are different teirs the team can choose from that give you different living spaces. Before I joined, Visitor, Ani, and our hulk of a Russian, Elbo, shot for the gold. Their work put Royal We on the map from day one. The manor was a sight for sore eyes. In it I knew there were painkillers and soft things to lay my head on. My disappointed team would be inside as well.

Thankfully as I opened the one double door Elbo was the only one around to greet me.

“Quarda! I thought you had gone to hospital again! Good to see you back!” Elbo is 250 pounds of pure muscle accented with milky blue eyes and a dishwater buzz-cut. He's a head taller than me, and the friendliest team member left.

Some slur of a grin and grimace crossed my face as I pointed to the side of my head. My fading purple hair was cow-licked by the dried bronze that spilled on the asphalt.

I must have looked as bad as I felt because Russian words spat out of his mouth before asking, “Do you need doctor?”

Before I could tell Elbo 'no' Regency paused in a door frame to the foyer. Before words came out of his mouth my headache doubled. His British snobbishness is a force all it's own, “Tourn was ready to pull the plug if we found you in the ER, Cord.” Regency's hazel-green eyes meet the top of my head. His birdlike features are perfectly accompanied with a medium feathered hairstyle. He's a regal stubborn person who among our team has his eyes on the points closer than any of the rest of us.

I waved off Regency's words, “Where's th' fall'n doc?” My words were a mush of croaking syllables.

Elbo began to suggest a location before Tourniquet entered the foyer. Just the thought or smell of me had him ranting already, “-like this just can't happen anymore! How can we progress if this shit keeps happening? I swear to God-oh. Amazing, Cord. Look at your fucking head!” He tossed a hand out to reinforce his agitation. Tourniquet is Elbo's height; lean with enough tone to make a difference in fights. His verdant eyes glared as he ran a hand through his mess of straw colored hair, “So, who beat the damn points out of you? All of our hard fucking work down the drain-”

While Tourn blew his whistle I showed my bent crowbar to Elbo. Without a word, he took it and bent it back to almost straight. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. I smiled looking it over. The steel felt personalized to me, the small crook gave it a different feel. Then Tourn's words reached my scrambled brains, “Wai'. We won the roun'?” The words out of my mouth felt so heavy I almost couldn’t pronounce them.

“Fuck yes we did. And by the skin of our fucking teeth,” Tourniquet was so eloquent.

Elbo crossed his arms and nodded, “Quarda asked Elbo to give his all. So. Is just what I did.”

Regency just scoffed and wandered off to do something with crumpets or whatever it is British people do in the morning.

“Good,” I paused, “Wuh.. Any Oxy? Beyon' throbbin' I.. Uh..” I'd been lucid on my way home, but with all the dizzy spells I felt like I was fighting to keep away from the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Yeah, yes... Come to the damned study,” Tourn grumbled as he paced off.

“Is good you are back, Quarda. Viz would be happy. So I am also.”

“Thax big'uy,” I smiled.

I watched Elbo strut off toward the den that was converted into our fitness center.

The manor is a beautiful place. All earth tiles covered with red carpets. Sepia adornments frame the parchment colored walls and banisters. Upkeep of this place costs a lot, but even at the bottom of the ranks, Royal We was thriving. Sand is generous to it's players at the bottom line.

The Study had been converted into an amalgamation of a resting therapy room and an operating room. Generally it's where Tourn and Regency play cards or have heated debates. Other times it's where Elbo and I get patched up.

“Fuck's sake, it took you long enough,” Tourn replied to the Study door's low cry.

My tongue wouldn't lift to even grunt. So I slumped onto the plush leather sofa. Ensured I was comfortable while Tourn could still look at the lump on my head, I closed my eyes.

“I wish you would use the bed we had installed. You're the reason that beautiful couch is stained.”

I wished there was an off switch to his mouth. But he shoved a cup and a pill into my hands, so I should have been a little grateful.

“Even Elbo uses the damn bed. If a neanderthal can respect Italian leather I can't imagine why you can't.”

His ranting moved away and circled back as I took the pill. I couldn't remember the last time water had been so wonderful. My stomach reacted by informing me I was famished, something I didn't notice over my splitting headache. It would have to wait. Fatigue had made sleep top the to do list.

I drifted off, vaguely remembering Tourn cleaning my skull, mumbling remarks about brain damage and 9 while shining a goddamn flashlight in my eyes.