#but after a while you do notice a pattern

[inseobts]

Busted! (Secret Relationship)

what if the two of you are in a secret relantionship and suddenly everyone start to realize something is going on?

characters: zoro, sanji, law, koby, ace

words count: around 0.8k - 1.3k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The Thousand Sunny is quiet most days, but today feels especially peaceful. The crew’s scattered across the deck sunbathing, napping, playing cards, and you? You’re on a mission.

Zoro’s disappeared again.

“Where did he go this time?” you mutter, padding softly down the hallway. You’ve checked the deck, the crow’s nest, even behind the kitchen. Nothing. Then you think... of course! The training room.

Sure enough, you step inside and spot him, dead asleep on the floor, his swords lying beside him like loyal dogs. He looks peaceful, his breathing deep and even. You smile. He really can sleep anywhere.

You don’t mean to sit down next to him, but somehow, you do.

Just for a minute.

Just long enough to rest your head against his shoulder.

Next thing you know, it’s dark. The room’s dipped in shadow, the ship creaking gently. You jolt upright, a little dazed.

“Zoro—sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

But he just grunts, shifting a little. His shoulder doesn’t move from under your cheek.

It becomes a pattern after that.

You find him again a few days later, this time slumped in a corner of the dining room. You lie down nearby. Sleep drags you under before you can think twice. When you wake, your head is in his lap.

“You’re fine” he murmurs, when you apologize again. Like it’s no big deal. Like he’s used to you being there.

And you start to think… maybe he is.

The naps become frequent. Easy. Comfortable. You stop trying to come up with excuses. You sit beside him on the deck while the others chatter. You lean against him while he sharpens his swords. He never pulls away.

One night, you find him leaning against the wall of the storage room, eyes half-lidded, arms crossed. The moment you walk in, he straightens, just barely, but enough for you to know he was waiting.

He pulls you in without a word. A kiss. Slow, familiar. His hands are warm on your back.

“I missed you” you whisper against his collarbone.

Zoro exhales through his nose “You saw me four hours ago.”

“Still.”

He doesn’t argue. Just leans his forehead against yours.

It’s sweet. Undisturbed. Until you hear footsteps and both of you freeze.

“Shhhit” you whisper, slipping away as quiet as you can.

Neither of you sees Chopper peeking from behind a barrel.

The next day, the crew is watching. Not subtly.

You notice Nami watching you with a knowing smirk. Robin sips her tea, but there’s amusement in her gaze. Sanji is glaring daggers at Zoro (okay, that’s normal), but Usopp is squinting at you both like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

You clear your throat “What?”

Usopp narrows his eyes further “You and Zoro have been acting weird.”

Your heart nearly stops.

You glance at Zoro, who doesn’t even flinch as he takes another bite of his rice “What the hell are you talking about?”

“That you two are obviously acting weird lately...” Nami finally says.

Zoro doesn’t even blink “You’re imagining things.”

“You’re eating your vegetables...” she points out.

Zoro shrugs “Coincidence.”

“You showed up early to dinner” Usopp adds, suspicious.

“Must’ve been a fluke.”

Brook, not missing a beat, says, “I saw you napping with her head on your lap again. Yohohoho~”

You wish you could melt into your chair. But Zoro? Calm as ever.

“She was tired,” he says flatly “What’s the problem?”

Luffy gasps dramatically “You’re dating!!”

Zoro sighs “We were resting.”

You stare at your plate, but a warm touch to your hand under the table grounds you.

Zoro, looking at you like the whole world could wait.

Days pass. You try to be extra careful. Less glances. Less sneaky meetings. Less…everything.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because one night, the crew catches you.

It happens so fast. One moment, you’re on watch duty, and the next, Zoro is there, dragging you into a kiss. It’s heated, his hands gripping your waist, your fingers tangled in his hair, completely lost in each other.

Then “AH-HA!!”

You jolt apart.

Usopp is pointing at you both, eyes wide with betrayal “I knew it!!”

The entire crew is gathered behind him, staring.

Luffy tilts his head “Wait, were we not supposed to know?”

Sanji is fuming “Why him?! You could do so much better, Y/N-chan!”

Robin chuckles “It was quite obvious, honestly.”

Chopper bounces excitedly “I saw them sneaking around weeks ago!”

You cover your face in embarrassment “Oh my god, it was you!”

Zoro groans, rubbing the back of his neck “Tch. Should’ve known you idiots would figure it out. You never mind your own business.”

Luffy grins “Well, at least you don’t have to sneak around anymore!”

Zoro pauses, then shrugs “Guess that’s true.” He turns to you, smirking “Means I can kiss you whenever I want now.”

Your face burns “Zoro!!”

The crew erupts in laughter (except for Sanji, he cries louder).

Secret’s out.

Now you nap by his side without hiding. You lean against him on long afternoons. You sit close at meals. Luffy teases you both constantly. Sanji mutters curses under his breath. But it’s fine.

It’s more than fine. It’s peaceful.

That night, after dinner, you find yourself heading below deck. The ship rocks gently with the sea, moonlight shining through the portholes.

You already know where you’ll find him.

He’s sitting in the training room, back against the wall, swords neatly stacked beside him. When you walk in, he glances up, but he doesn’t say anything.

You sit beside him, stretching your legs out in front of you.

“I thought I might find you here” you say.

Zoro grunts, not disagreeing.

Silence settles in. Comfortable. You shift slightly, laying your head in his lap. He doesn’t move, just lets his fingers find their way into your hair, slow and soothing.

It’s a simple thing. The kind of closeness that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

His hand runs gently over your scalp. You feel your eyes drifting shut again.

“I like this” Zoro says, voice low, almost a rumble.

You blink sleepily, your cheek still pressed to his thigh “Hm?”

“You. Sleeping like this.” He pauses “On my lap.”

Your heart flutters at the quiet honesty. You glance up at him, but he’s not looking down, he’s staring straight ahead, the barest hint of pink on his cheeks.

“I like it too” you murmur.

Zoro’s thumb brushes just behind your ear, then down the back of your neck, repeating the motion. A steady rhythm. Grounding. Careful.

His fingers slip into your hair again, and he continues tracing lazy circles on your scalp. His other hand rests lightly on your arm, as if to say, I’ve got you.

You drift off to the sound of his breathing, calm and slow.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the windows.

You wake slowly, still curled up in Zoro’s lap. His fingers are tangled gently in your hair, and his thumb brushes your temple in slow, steady passes.

You tilt your head, eyes meeting his.

“How long have you been awake?” you whisper.

Zoro smirks, eyes warm “Long enough.”

You stretch, reluctant to move.

“I’m comfortable” you mumble.

He doesn’t stop touching your hair “Good.”

“Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“I think I’m getting used to this.”

He finally looks down at you, something quiet in his expression, softness, maybe. Peace.

“Yeah,” he says “Me too.”

And you smile, because in this floating world full of chaos, monsters, and adventure… it’s the quietest moments like this that feel the most real.

── .✦ Sanji:

Sanji is always everywhere. In the kitchen. On the deck. Serving drinks. Flirting with Nami and Robin. Spinning around like the lovestruck idiot he is.

Which is exactly why no one suspects a damn thing.

No one notices how his hand brushes against yours just a little longer when he passes you a plate. No one questions why he always makes extra of your favorite dish. And no one, not even Usopp, the self-proclaimed detective, realizes that when Sanji disappears from the kitchen at night, it’s to be with you.

Like right now.

It’s past midnight, and the kitchen is dimly lit. The scent of fresh tea and something sweet lingers in the air as you lean against the counter, watching Sanji work. His sleeves are rolled up, his vest discarded, and the soft glow of the lantern makes his golden hair look even more unruly.

“You’re spoiling me” you murmur as he places a small plate in front of you a delicate pastry, still warm.

Sanji grins, wiping his hands on a towel “Of course, mon amour. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t?”

You take a bite, humming in satisfaction “Mmm. Amazing.”

His eyes soften as he leans in, resting his palms on the counter on either side of you “I can think of something even sweeter.”

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. You melt into him, gripping the fabric of his shirt as his fingers gently tilt your chin up. His lips taste like mint and a hint of the dessert he just made, and you lose yourself in the warmth of him.

Then a loud BANG from outside the door.

Both of you freeze.

Sanji pulls back, glancing at the entrance “Shit—”

You practically shove him away, wiping your lips as the door swings open.

“Oi, I swear, I'm not here to see your ugly face, I need—”

Zoro stops mid-sentence, looking between the two of you. His eyes narrow.

Your heart stops.

Sanji, ever the smooth talker, immediately turns to glare at him “Moss-head, do you have no manners? Barging into my kitchen?”

Zoro scowls “Tch. Like I wanna be here. Luffy’s whining about meat, and I—” His gaze shifts back to you. Suspicious.

You force a casual smile “Uh… late-night snack?”

Zoro doesn’t look convinced. His eyes flick between the two of you once more before he grunts “Whatever. Just bring food before Luffy eats Chopper.”

He turns and leaves.

You don’t breathe until the door clicks shut. Then you glare at Sanji “We almost got caught.”

Sanji just smirks, brushing his fingers over your wrist “But we didn’t.”

You always try to act normal. You really do. But Sanji makes it so damn difficult.

He’s always sneaking glances at you across the table. Always brushing against you when he walks by. Always bringing you your favorite snacks, acting like it’s nothing.

And apparently, the crew is starting to catch on.

“You guys ever notice that Sanji doesn’t flirt with Y/N as much as he does with Nami and Robin?” Usopp suddenly asks one day.

Your spoon nearly slips from your hand.

Franky strokes his chin “Huh. Now that you mention it…”

Brook chuckles “Ohhh, that is unusual.”

Luffy, mouth full, tilts his head “But Sanji flirts with everyone.”

Zoro scoffs “Yeah. Except Y/N.”

Your stomach drops.

Sanji, who had been stirring a pot at the stove, doesn’t even flinch “I’m just being a gentleman.”

Nami raises an eyebrow “Are you, though?”

Sanji turns, flashing his usual charming smile “Of course, my dear! Why would I treat Y/N-chan any different?”

You force a nervous laugh “Right! That would be weird, huh?”

They don’t look convinced.

Robin simply sips her tea, giving you both a knowing look.

In the end, it’s Luffy who ruins everything.

One day you and Sanji are in the storage room, tucked away between crates of supplies, wrapped up in each other. His hands are in your hair, his lips teasing against yours, and the rest of the world doesn’t exist... at least until the door slams open.

“SANJI, ARE YOU IN HE—oh.”

Luffy stops. Blinks. Tilts his head.

You and Sanji are frozen in place, practically tangled together.

Luffy’s face slowly lights up “OOOOHHHH!!!”

You scramble back “L-Luffy, it’s not what it looks like—”

“YOU GUYS WERE KISSING!!”

Sanji sighs, rubbing his temples “Goddammit.”

Before you can even try to shut him up, Luffy sprints out of the room.

You stare at the door in horror “Oh no.”

“OH YES” Sanji groans, already dreading what’s about to happen.

“GUYS!!” Luffy yells at the top of his lungs “SANJI AND Y/N ARE KISSING!!”

A beat of silence. Then an explosion of multiple “WHAT?!”

Usopp “I knew something was up!!”

Franky “That’s SUPER unexpected!”

Brook “OHOHO, young love~!”

Chopper “How long has this been going on?!”

Nami “You guys really thought you were being secretive?”

Robin chuckles knowingly “Adorable.”

Zoro grinning smugly “Called it.”

Sanji groans, burying his face in his hands “Kill me now.”

You sigh, crossing your arms “Well. Secret’s out.”

Sanji straightens, huffing dramatically before flashing you a smirk “At least now I don’t have to hold back anymore, mon amour~”

He dips you backward, kissing you full on the mouth right in front of the crew.

Cue, another round of screaming.

── .✦ Law:

Dinner on the Polar Tang is always loud. Jokes, clinks of silverware, and Bepo’s laugh echo off the metal walls.

You sit between Shachi and Penguin, pretending to listen to their story about a giant sea bass they swear was “this big”, but your eyes keep drifting across the table to Law.

Your secret boyfriend. Your captain. The man who never smiles in public, but melts when you’re alone.

No one knows. Not even Bepo. You’ve kept it quiet for months. Private looks, quick touches in dark halls, and soft kisses in his room late at night.

Today, before dinner, you stopped by his quarters. Things got… heated.

“Hold still” you say, laughing as you straddle his lap, pressing kiss after kiss on his jaw, his cheek, his neck.

“You’re gonna leave marks” Law murmurs, but his hands stay firm on your hips.

“Good,” you whisper against his throat, lips painted with your favourite lipstick “Let everyone wonder who’s bold enough to kiss the Surgeon of Death.”

He smirks, but you clean him up after. Or so you think.

Now, mid-dinner, you notice it.

Right on the collar of his white shirt, just above the neck, there's a soft red smudge. Lipstick. Your lipstick.

Your eyes widen.

Shachi nudges you “Hey, is that… is there something on Captain’s shirt?”

Penguin leans forward “Yo, Captain. You spill something?”

Law blinks. Looks down “What?”

Bepo tilts his head “No, that looks like lipstick.”

Silence falls over the table. Everyone stares.

You try to act innocent, chewing your food and glancing around like you’re just as confused.

“Lipstick?” you say, blinking “Who around here even wears lipstick?”

They all look at Ikkaku.

She doesn’t even look up from her bowl “Not me,” she mutters “That's not even my color.”

Penguin raises an eyebrow “So… that means…” He turns his head slowly toward you “You’re the only one who does.”

Shachi points between you and Law “Wait… Are you two…?”

Law doesn’t say a word. He just sips his tea like nothing’s happened.

You smile, wide and unapologetic “Guess I missed a spot.”

Silence.

Then chaos.

“WHAT?!” Shachi practically jumps over the table “YOU AND THE CAPTAIN?!”

“How long?!” Penguin shouts, eyes wide “Since when?! HOW DID WE NOT NOTICE?!”

Bepo stands up so fast he knocks over his stool “You’re dating the captain?!”

You raise an eyebrow “You guys okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Don’t play innocent!” Penguin waves his spoon “You’ve been sneaking around with him! That’s our captain!”

Shachi gasps dramatically “All those times you disappeared after dinner… And that one time you came back with messy hair! I thought it was just wind!”

“Eheh, I am the wind” you say with a smirk.

Law sighs “You’re all loud.”

Bepo stares “So it’s true? You and Y/N?”

Law glances at you, then shrugs “Yeah.”

Another wave of panic.

“THE WAY HE SAID THAT!” Penguin screams.

“SO CALM—SO COOL—WHAT THE HELL!” Shachi is holding his head like it might explode.

Ikkaku finally looks up, deadpan “You’re all idiots.”

You lean into Law’s side, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Told you they’d freak.”

“Mm,” Law mutters “Still worth it.”

Bepo sniffles “I feel so betrayed… I thought we were a family.”

“We are,” you say “Just… a family with a very attractive captain who’s taken.”

“STOP,” Shachi yells “I CAN’T UNSEE IT.”

Law smirks just a little. And you can’t help it, you kiss his cheek in front of everyone, just to drive them a little more insane.

It’s been two days since The Lipstick Incident.

Two days of nonstop teasing.

“Morning, Y/N.”

“Or should we say Mrs. Surgeon of Death?”

You roll your eyes as Shachi and Penguin trail behind you like annoying seagulls.

“Captain! Can Y/N still go on missions or is she on girlfriend duty today?”

“Should we start knocking before entering the medbay now?”

Law mostly ignores them. Mostly. Except that time he dead-eyed Penguin and said, “Keep talking and I’ll switch your arms.”

The jokes died down for a few hours after that. But Bepo has become the most dramatic.

“I still can’t believe I found out at dinner like that,” he says, curled in a blanket like he’s mourning “I needed time to process.”

You plop down next to him on the couch “We didn’t mean to keep it from you. It was just… easier that way.”

He looks at you “Are you happy with him?”

You pause, then smile “Yeah. He makes me feel safe. And seen. Even if he doesn’t say much.”

Behind you, Law’s voice chimes in “I say plenty.”

You turn, surprised “You were eavesdropping?”

“It’s my ship.”

He walks over, drops a kiss on your forehead right in front of everyone. You expect chaos again, but the room is quiet.

Then Bepo grins “Okay. I approve.”

Shachi sighs “Fine. But if we ever hear weird noises from the engine room again—”

“—I will personally sedate you” Law cuts in.

The crew bursts into laughter.

Penguin raises his cup “To our captain and his secret weapon—Y/N!”

Everyone cheers. Even Ikkaku raises an eyebrow and gives you a subtle nod.

You look up at Law. He doesn’t smile much. But you see softness around the eyes, just for you.

Secret’s out. And honestly? It feels kind of nice.

── .✦ Koby:

The marine base is quiet at night, almost peaceful. You walk along the edge of the courtyard, your boots barely making a sound on the stone floor. The moon is high, casting soft light over the base. You pause near the training field and look around. No one’s there.

Good.

“Koby?” you whisper, stepping behind a storage shed.

A soft rustle comes from the shadows. Then he steps out. His hair is a little messy, his uniform jacket open.

“You’re late” he says, but he smiles.

You roll your eyes “Only by five minutes.”

Koby glances around. He takes your hand and pulls you closer into the shadow of the wall. His hand is warm. You lean into him, your heartbeat fast.

“If anyone sees us…” he says, his voice low.

“No one will,” you say quickly “They never do.”

He chuckles “We’re getting good at this.”

“You mean I’m getting good at it,” you tease “You still get nervous when someone says my name.”

“That’s because Garp keeps watching me like he knows something” Koby says, eyes wide.

You laugh “Maybe he does.”

Koby groans “Don’t say that.”

You lean up and kiss his cheek “Relax. We’re always careful.”

He smiles at you, that soft look he only gives when it’s just the two of you “I missed you.”

“I saw you this morning.”

“That doesn’t count. You were in uniform. You called me Sir.”

You smirk “Would you prefer Captain Sweetheart?”

Koby covers his face, laughing quietly “Please don’t.”

The sound of footsteps suddenly cuts the moment short.

You both freeze.

“Did you hear that?” you whisper.

Koby nods, already pulling away. You both hide behind the shed just as two lower-ranked marines walk by, talking about some drill tomorrow. They don’t see you.

Your heart pounds. When the footsteps fade, you let out a breath.

Koby looks at you, serious now “We can’t keep doing this forever.”

You know what he means. But you don’t want to think about it. Not tonight.

“Let’s just have this,” you say “Right now.”

He nods slowly, fingers brushing against yours again “Right now.”

Neither of you say the words out loud, but they’re there, floating in the silence.

This is dangerous but it’s totally worth it.

The sky looks angry today.

Wind whips through the courtyard, and the clouds hang low like they’re ready to fight someone. Fitting, considering your brain’s in a brawl with itself after what Helmeppo said the day before.

"Koby, huh?"

You can’t stop hearing it. His smirk. That I-know-something-you-don’t-want-me-to-know tone.

You march past the barracks, straight toward the supply shed, your usual spot. You pace in tight circles. The door creaks. Koby walks in, drenched from the rain already starting.

“I heard Helmeppo” he says.

You nod “I didn’t tell him anything.”

“I know. But he knows. He’s probably telling his pillow right now.”

You snort, even though your chest feels tight.

“What do we do?” you ask.

Koby looks out the cracked window “I don't think anyone would even care about what Helmeppo says, but I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

You wait.

“…What if we stop hiding?”

You blink “Just like that?”

He shrugs “We tell the truth. If we get in trouble, we get in trouble. At least it’s not lying anymore.”

You walk up to him, water dripping from the edge of the window onto your boots “You’re serious?”

He nods “You’re worth the risk.”

Before you can answer—BOOM! The door BURSTS open like it owes someone money.

There stands Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp, holding a giant sack of snacks.

“I KNEW IT!” he bellows, pointing a meat bun at both of you like it’s a pistol “I KNEW YOU TWO WERE SWAPPING LOVE NOTES INSTEAD OF LOGBOOKS!”

Your soul nearly leaves your body. Koby jumps like he just got hit by lightning.

Garp stomps inside, water puddling under his boots “You think I’m old and blind?! I see everything! The glances! The disappearing acts! The suspiciously timed bathroom breaks!”

You and Koby look at each other, stunned.

“I—uh—we weren’t—” you stammer.

Garp holds up a finger “Don’t lie! I’ve seen more romance in your sneaky hallway nods than in a whole damn soap opera!”

Koby finally finds his voice “Vice Admiral Garp, we—”

Garp grabs two rice balls from his bag and tosses them at your heads.

“About time! I was betting with Sengoku you two would crack by this month!” He slaps Koby on the back so hard he almost falls over “Make it work, kiddo. Or I’ll make you regret everything.”

He stomps back into the storm, yelling at the sky.

“I WANT A WEDDING INVITE WHEN THIS BLOOMS INTO MARINE-SANCTIONED LOVE!”

Then he’s gone.

The silence is unreal.

“…Did he just bless our relationship and threaten us at the same time?” you ask.

Koby looks dazed “I think he also gave us lunch.”

You both stare at the rice balls on the ground.

You reach for one “So… no more hiding?”

Koby grins “No more hiding.”

You nod “Good. But that wasn’t romantic. That was a jump scare.”

By the next morning, everyone knows.

You’re not sure how.

Maybe it was Garp yelling across the courtyard. Maybe it was the rice ball slap. Maybe it was the way Koby smiled at you in front of a full squad meeting like it was no big deal. But now, it’s official.

You’re walking through the halls and two marines actually wink at you.

One gives you a thumbs-up. Another whispers, “Cute couple” like this is high school.

And then there’s Helmeppo, waiting by the stairs like he’s been practicing his lines all night.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls “Look who finally stopped sneaking off like a pair of guilty raccoons.”

You roll your eyes “Don’t you have training or something?”

“Oh, I do. But this is more fun,” he says, grinning “You two really had me fooled. All those ‘Yes, sir’s and ‘Permission to speak freely’s. Cute. Very professional. Very fake.”

“I will tape your mouth shut” you say calmly.

“Spicy,” Helmeppo whistles “No wonder Koby’s in love.”

You expect Koby to stammer. To panic. To turn bright red and pretend none of this is happening.

Instead, he wraps his arm around your waist and says “Yeah. I am.”

What.

You turn to him “Who are you and what did you do with the shy marine I was dating in secret?”

He grins, a little pink in the cheeks, but steady “I’m done hiding. I like holding your hand. I like saying it.”

Helmeppo looks personally attacked “You’re gonna make me throw up.”

Koby shrugs “Go drink some water.”

You’re still trying to recover from the whiplash when Koby turns to you again, softer this time. No audience, no drama, just him.

“I missed being close to you,” he says “Even just walking next to you without pretending it means nothing. I hated pretending.”

Your heart tugs.

“I know,” you say “I did too.”

He leans in, forehead resting lightly against yours “Now I can do this.”

He kisses you. Just a short, sweet kiss. Right there in the hallway.

Someone behind you gasps. Someone else claps. It’s probably Garp. Or Helmeppo. Or both.

You laugh into Koby’s shoulder “We’re never gonna hear the end of this.”

“Good,” he says “Let them talk.”

── .✦ Ace:

It starts small.

Ace, lover of chaos and borderline inedible food, begins pushing onions off his plate.

At first, nobody says anything. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood. Maybe he’s just not feeling it today.

Then it happens again.

And again.

.........And again.

By the fourth time, Thatch is watching him like he’s trying to solve a murder.

“You good, man?”

Ace blinks, mid-push “Huh?”

“You keep banishing onions like they stole your ship or something.”

Ace shrugs “They just taste weird lately.”

Thatch narrows his eyes “You used to eat them raw.”

“Tastes change.”

“You once drank onion juice.”

“I was bored.”

“You said it ‘cleared the sinuses.’”

Ace looks up at him with a done expression “…And it did.”

Thatch is unconvinced. He stares at the sad pile of abandoned onions like they hold answers.

A few days later, Marco walks across the deck and almost trips over you.

You’re napping.

Not unusual. But you’re napping exactly like Ace. Flat on your back. Arm flopped over your face. One boot still on, one off. Dead to the world.

Marco leans down “You good?”

You snore lightly and mumble something about “I hate onions... mh”.

Marco’s eye twitches.

He walks off slowly and finds Thatch.

“We have a situation.”

Izou, Marco, Thatch, and Jozu sit in a huddle like they’re planning a heist.

Thatch slaps down a napkin with dramatic flair.

“Exhibit A: Ace has stopped eating onions.”

“Exhibit B,” Marco adds, “she naps like a dead log in the middle of the deck. Just like him.”

“Exhibit C,” Izou says, adjusting his coat, “he brushed his teeth twice in one day.”

Silence.

Jozu blinks “…What does that mean?”

Izou sighs “He’s trying not to taste bad, obviously.”

Marco nods slowly “Only one reason for all this.”

Everyone says it at once “He’s kissing someone.”

They all lean back like they’ve cracked the code.

Thatch grins wide “And we all know someone who always hated onions.”

Back on deck, you yawn and stretch, bumping into Ace as he leans on the rail.

“Morning” he says, smiling softly.

“You smell like mint” you mutter, surprised.

He leans in slightly “That a bad thing?”

You shake your head, trying not to grin “Nah. Kinda hot, actually.”

What you don’t notice is the small army of Whitebeard pirates across the deck, hiding behind barrels, crates, and a suspiciously placed sail, watching you both with the intensity of trained spies.

Thatch whispers, “Look at him. He’s glowing.”

Marco squints “Is that a love glow?”

Jozu nods “He’s never glowed before.”

Izou fans himself “My heart can’t take this.”

Thatch whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary “Observe: the rare, emotionally available Ace, brushing his teeth and avoiding onions for the sake of romance.”

Marco chuckles “Should we say something?”

Thatch shakes his head, evil smile creeping in “Not yet. Let’s have a little fun first.”

The crew knows. You just don’t know that they know. Which is why things get weird really fast.

First, Thatch starts offering you food. All the time. Which wouldn’t be strange except “Here, Y/N, extra meat, no onions. Just how you like it” he says sweetly, placing it in front of you with a wink.

You blink “Thanks…?”

He beams “Y’know. For important stuff. Like kissing for example.”

You choke “What?”

“Kissing your enemies goodbye in battle, of course. Wouldn't be cool if you smell like onions.” he says innocently “What else would I mean?”

You narrow your eyes. He walks off humming the wedding march.

Weird.

Later that day, Marco corners Ace.

“You ever think about switching toothpaste brands?”

Ace looks up from his nap spot, squinting “What?”

“I heard mint’s nice” Marco says, deadly casual.

Ace raises a brow “I already switched. Why?”

“No reason,” Marco shrugs “Just figured you’d want to impress… someone.”

“…Like who?”

Marco just walks off.

Ace stares after him, confused.

Then there’s Izou.

He appears next to you while you’re doing your hair, watching like a hawk.

“Hmm” he says thoughtfully.

“What?”

“You’ve got a new little strand tucked behind your ear. That’s new.”

You frown “So? My hair just got a bit too long.”

“Just reminds me of how Ace tucks his hair sometimes. Cute. Subtle. Copying your crush is a classic move.”

You freeze “Wh-What crush?”

He smiles slowly “Oh, I didn’t say you had one.”

You almost trip over the comb.

And don’t even get started on Jozu. He starts playing “matchmaker” out of nowhere.

“Hey Y/N, what do you think of guys with freckles?”

You pause “I mean, freckles are nice... why?”

“No reason.” He grins “You like fire powers too?”

“…You’re literally describing Ace.”

“Am I?” he says, like he’s shocked at himself.

You walk away suspicious. The crew snickers behind your back.

By the end of the week, you’re starting to get twitchy. Ace too.

“Are they acting weird?” you whisper one night as you sit beside him on deck.

“Definitely,” he says, arms behind his head “Thatch winked at me when I refused onions at dinner.”

“Marco suggested I take a nap ‘in a more open, sunny place.’” You glance at him “Sound familiar?”

Ace groans “They’re onto something.”

You whisper, “Do you think they know?”

He shrugs “They’re dumb. I think we’re safe.”

The crew, literally hiding, listening in with cups pressed to the wood.

Thatch whispers, “They think we’re dumb.”

Marco snorts “They’re in love and hiding it like toddlers under a table.”

Izou fans himself “Give it another day. Then we strike.”

It starts over breakfast.

Again, totally normal day. Birds chirping. Sun’s out. Pirates being loud. You stroll in beside Ace, acting casual. Like you didn’t kiss him good morning five minutes ago behind the barrels.

You sit down.

He sits next to you.

Everything is fine. Until Thatch slams his fork on the table and stands up dramatically.

“Okay, this has gone on long enough.”

You and Ace both freeze.

Marco leans in lazily, sipping his coffee “So. You two are dating, right?”

Your eyes go wide.

Ace doesn’t even blink.

And at the exact same time:

You: “No! Who would even date him?”

Ace: “Yeah, we’re obviously dating.”

Silence.

A beat.

Then Jozu chokes on his juice. Thatch drops his spoon. Izou wheezes like he’s been punched.

Marco just blinks “Well. That answers that.”

You turn to Ace in slow motion “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY??”

He frowns slightly “That we’re dating? What—why did you say that so disgusted?”

You hiss “Because you weren’t supposed to just admit it!”

“Why not? We’ve been caught.”

“I was trying to lie!”

Thatch is howling “Oh my god—‘Who would even date him??’ Babe, the man LITERALLY has your name carved into his pillow.”

You whip around “He WHAT?!”

Ace shrugs “Just the initials. It’s cute.”

Izou fans himself “I’m going to die. This is the best breakfast of my life.”

Marco grins “This is better than I expected”

Jozu “It’s like watching a romance novel crash into a comedy sketch.”

You bury your face in your hands “I hate this. I hate ALL of you.”

Ace pats your back gently “I think it’s going great.”

You glare at him “You’re enjoying this.”

“Of course. I don’t have to sneak around anymore. I get to call you mine out loud now.”

That… makes your face heat up. You try not to smile. You fail.

Thatch yells, “THEY’RE BLUSHING. IT’S REAL.”

Ace slings his arm around your shoulders, smug and unbothered “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll survive the embarrassment.”

Izou smirks “Barely.”

Marco raises his cup “To the worst cover-up attempt in Whitebeard history.”

Everyone cheers.

You groan and slump against Ace, who kisses your temple like the traitor he is.

Soft. Smiling. Loud and proud.

And now you’re never living this down.

[plutotheplum]

chapter three | the chariot

caleb x fem!reader

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “You’re not leaving.” Caleb stalks towards you, his fingers sliding under your chin, tilting your head up. “You’re not leaving until you’re fucked full of my cum.” He dips his head, the tip of his nose grazing yours. “Understand, sweetheart?”

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, modern au, smut, fluff, kissing, oral sex, p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, biting, bondage, vaginal fingering, handjob, dog tags, inappropriate photos, confessions

wc: 6.9k

a/n: this turned out to have a little more romance than i was expecting to write but i hope you enjoy! caleb is just soooo 🫦

also on ao3!

series masterlist | next up: the emperor

“Why are you wearing a scarf?”

You clear your throat, fingers tapping against the side of your glass of juice agitatedly. 

“It’s quite cold, isn’t it?” you supply lamely, fingers itching to reach up and tug the scarf tighter around your neck, desperately hoping that Caleb hadn’t taken notice of the marks that were now in full bloom.

“Cold?” he echoes, raising his brows. “We’re in the middle of spring. Are you feeling sick?”

You hardly hear his question because you’re too busy trying to tilt your head in a way that doesn’t look too suspicious. The stupid fabric was beginning to itch, and it was driving you crazy.

Xavier had offered to help when he’d found you in his kitchen in the morning, desperately twirling a whisk against your neck. It had hardly helped. You would’ve opted for a turtleneck, but there was a certain lack of them in your closet. Instead, you’d rummaged around, managing to fish out an oddly-patterned scarf from the depths.

“C’mon, are you sick?” Caleb prods, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, the couch dipping under both your weights as you shift.

“No,” you mumble, silently wishing that this wasn’t happening right now. All you can manage is a pitiful excuse. “I just happen to really like scarves, Caleb.”

“Well, it looks ridiculous,” he says drily, nuzzling into your cheek. “You gonna take it off anytime soon?”

“It’s chic,” you correct, trying to squirm away from him. “And no, I’m still cold.”

Caleb huffs out a laugh, his lips pressing against your cheek fondly. You bite your lip when he picks you up, situating you on his lap, his chest warm against your back. Normally, it’d feel nice if you weren’t currently overheating and overwhelmed. 

You stiffen when Caleb rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you closer. His lips drag across your jaw in a fleeting kiss and you can feel your eyes sliding shut, lulled into a state of comfort by his thumbs gently rubbing circles into your stomach through your dress.

Out of everyone, Caleb was the one you’d known the longest. You’d grown up together, until he’d moved away for a couple of years before coming back, his demeanor a little more intense than you’d remembered. You still weren’t sure of the reason, but Caleb had gotten sterner over the years, less willing to let you go.

He’d been your first kiss back then, your lips clumsy and inexperienced when he’d kissed you and shy, fleeting glances exchanged between you when he’d walked you home, his hand grasping yours firmly.

You’d never quite gotten the chance to explore the possibility of something more… serious with him, not when Caleb was joining the military soon after. You’d hardly even seen him around until the past few months, his schedule freeing up while he awaited deployment. 

“I missed you,” Caleb murmurs, his nose nudging against the side of your head.

“I missed you too,” you mumble, playing with his fingers, your palm pressing against his a few moments later, hands locking together.

He smiles, and you hum when he squeezes your hand, wiggling on his lap happily. Caleb lets out a low noise, one his hands curling over your hip to stop you.

“Don’t do that,” he whispers, his eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re no fun.”

Caleb huffs out a breath, his face pressing into your neck with the intention of mouthing across your skin. He lets out an irritated noise when he’s met with a faceful of your woolly scarf, letting out an exasperated breath.

“Please take the damn thing off.”

“Can’t,” you reply, feigning innocence, “it’s too cold.”

Caleb narrows his eyes. “I can warm you up.”

You shake your head, jerking out of his grasp when he tries to tug your scarf free from around your neck. You’re at your wits end, squeaking when Caleb tries to lunge for you again.

“I want to have sex with the scarf on, Caleb!”

“Is that a new kink?” he laughs, his eyes lighting up, “c’mon baby, you gotta take it off.”

You squeal when he manages to catch you, your little dance around his coffee table coming to an end when he pulls you into his chest, his arms firm and unrelenting, preventing your escape.

“S- stop!” you yelp, trying to squirm out of his arms, shrieking when he hooks his fingers into the gap between your scarf and neck, pulling it free. “Caleb!”

Caleb catches your hand when you try to cover up your neck, his expression dropping when he sees the extent of damage Xavier had laid to your skin. You stare up at him, swallowing nervously, fingers itching at your side, desperately wanting to snatch the scarf back from him.

“What,” he sucks in a shaky breath, “what the fuck is that?”

“N- nothing!” you protest, trying to turn your back to him. “It’s- it’s probably just an allergic reaction to my scarf!” You manage to twist yourself, hand shooting out to grab your scarf, pretending to give the little tag a once-over. “Mhm, yep, definitely an allergic reaction. I- I am, in fact, allergic to wool.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Caleb scoffs, “I know you aren’t allergic to anything.”

“It happens with age,” you lie through your teeth, “ever heard of dermatitis?”

Caleb stares at you blankly, shaking his head incredulously after a moment. “You’ve been spending too much time with Zayne,” he mutters. You watch uneasily as he balls his hands up into fists before he unclenches them, his fingers spreading out in a strained gesture. “Who did it?”

“Xavier,” you mumble, playing with your fingers. 

“I’m going to missile strike his apartment.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t so on edge. “You can’t do that,” you reply exasperatedly, “I live in the same apartment complex, remember? Besides, wouldn’t that be like a crime?”

“That is a crime,” Caleb snaps, pointing at your neck accusingly, “I mean what the fuck did you do with him? He’s practically tried to devour you whole.”

You flush when you remember what you had done with Xavier. The teasing, the feeling of his mouth on your tits, you’d enjoyed it.

Caleb glares at you when he sees the faraway look in your eyes, his arms crossing over his chest. “You don’t have to look so satisfied.”

“Well, he did satisfy me,” you mutter under your breath, shifting on your feet awkwardly.

Caleb scrubs a hand over his face before running his fingers through his hair. His jaw clenches as he stares down at you, gaze fixated on the discolored splotches that cover your neck. There’s an uncomfortable tension in the air and you wring your hands together, averting your gaze from his.

“I can leave,” you offer quietly, “if that’s what you w-”

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “You’re not leaving.” Caleb stalks towards you, his fingers sliding under your chin, tilting your head up. “You’re not leaving until you’re fucked full of my cum.” He dips his head, the tip of his nose grazing yours. “Understand, sweetheart?”

“What?” you ask breathlessly, somehow pinned in place by his darkened gaze and stern expression, holding none of the playful humor that you were accustomed to.

“You’re not leaving my apartment until I fuck you full of my cum,” Caleb repeats, tightening his grip on you. “Do you understand?”

“Well, I-” you sputter, cheeks hot, struggling to comprehend his words. 

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, spinning you around, his palm warm against your stomach. You bite back a whimper when he caresses your stomach, his hand pressing down firmly when you turn your head, eyes fluttering shut.

Caleb keeps his hand there, fingers splaying out, trying to encompass every inch of you that he can. His nose nudges against the side of your head, his breath hot against your skin. “Cat got your tongue, hm? You can go and sleep with those two pieces of shit but you can’t answer a simple question, huh?”

“Xavier’s not a piece of shit,” you shoot back agitatedly, eyes opening to send him an irritated look. “And neither is Rafayel. Grow up, Caleb.”

“I was right here,” he hisses, glaring down at you. “I was right fucking here and you decided you wanted to fuck four other men to have a fucking baby.”

“Yes, I did,” you retort sharply, turning in his arms, your finger pressing into his chest harshly. “If you can’t handle that, then maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this.”

Caleb’s eyes flash with anger, his grip on you loosening when you take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I agreed first,” he snaps, “or did you forget about that little detail?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” you say exasperatedly, throwing your arms up. “I’m here, in your fucking apartment, Caleb! And yes,” you snap harshly, blinded by your irritation, not quite paying attention to the words slipping out of your mouth, “I want to be fucked full of your cum!”

Caleb’s expression falters when he hears the latter part of your outburst, his eyes widening. Your chest heaves, a frustrated sound leaving you when you realize what you’ve said. You may as well have grabbed a shovel and started looking for a plot of land to bury yourself in.

Instead, you send him a glare that you hope is venomous enough, shoving past him to save face, storming into his bedroom.

“Hey, what are you-” Caleb begins, trailing after you awkwardly, his movements unsure. 

Still fuming, you unzip your dress, flinging the fabric at his stupidly handsome face, irritated by his bewildered expression. Caleb’s face disappears for a moment while he sputters, managing to ball your dress up before you throw your bra and panties in his face too. His cheeks flush at the sight of your panties, his fingers clenching around the lace.

“I’m ready,” you announce, well aware of the marks Xavier had left on your breasts and a few more that were hidden between your thighs. You gesture towards yourself. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Fuck me.”

“Uh-” Caleb clears his throat, taken aback by your sudden burst of determination, “maybe you should… calm down first?”

“You think I should calm down?” you retort sharply, “you’re the one that was throwing a temper tantrum!”

“For good reason!” he protests, setting your clothes down on top of his dresser before stepping towards you. “All someone needs to do is take one look at your neck and they’d understand where I’m coming from.”

“You started it with Xavier,” you hiss, finger prodding into his chest once again, “if you hadn’t riled him up, then maybe he wouldn’t have done this.” You gesture towards your neck agitatedly.

“Clearly it’s not just your neck, is it?” Caleb murmurs, his hand sliding up over your waist, his warm, calloused hand cupping your breast, squeezing gently. “All over your tits too.” He frowns at the sight, leaning back to watch your nipples harden at his ministrations, his eyes narrowing when he sees the splotchy marks left by Xavier. “You call that fair, sweetheart?”

All you can manage is a stubborn pout, averting your gaze. He sighs, and you shuffle forward, pressing your face into his chest. “He apologized,” you say, remembering the way Xavier had been on his knees. You let out a heavy breath. “Turns out he’s really good at apologizing.”

“I bet he is,” Caleb grumbles bitterly, his fingers pinching at your nipple absentmindedly.

You whimper, silently cursing yourself for being so weak. Caleb’s other hand comes up to cup your other breast, weighing it in his hand. The breath he lets out sounds a little too strained to be considered normal, your head tilting upwards to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” he says finally, his thumbs stroking over your nipples, his expression turning slightly serious.

Caleb lowers his head, his nose brushing against yours. He doesn’t go any further, simply staring into your eyes. It’s a little unnerving until you realize what he wants from you. Fingers curling into his shirt, you bring him a little closer to you, eyes slipping shut as your lips meet his in a chaste kiss.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper against his lips, “for not being understanding of your um-” you pause, trying to think of the right word, “preferences?”

He hums, his hand sliding up over the side of your neck to cup your cheek. “Yeah,” Caleb murmurs, “I still don’t think you understand what you mean to me.”

You blink up at him, brows furrowing in confusion. Caleb’s eyes bore down into yours, his expression conflicted. You stare into his eyes searchingly when you think you spot a hint of wistfulness breaking through. “Caleb?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers, both of his hands cupping your cheeks now. “I like you, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you say, the tension bleeding out from you. “I like you too, Caleb,” you chirp, a smile on your face, “you didn’t have to scare me like that.”

“What?”

“What?” you parrot back, confusion marring your expression yet again.

“No,” Caleb huffs out an irritated breath, “no, I like you.”

You give him a blank look. “...I know. You just said that.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath, “I like you as in romantically. As in I’ve spent the last fifteen years of my fucking life pining after you.”

What? Your mouth opens before you close it, stunned into silence. You always knew Caleb had a little thing for you, but fifteen years? 

“And you didn’t say anything earlier?” you manage out, “and you chose to confess now?” You gesture towards your bare body, cheeks flushing.

“The timing was never right,” he replies stubbornly, his eyes narrowing, “and yes.”

“I don’t think the timing is right now!” you protest, shaking your head.

“You don’t feel the same way.”

You shoot him an indignant look. “I didn’t say that, Caleb. It’s just… it’s complicated. You know it is.”

“Always is with you, isn’t it?” he murmurs, his jaw clenching.

“Are you serious?” you begin, feeling cornered, “if you had just said some-”

You’re cut off when Caleb dips his head, pressing a bruising kiss against your lips, one that steals the air from your lungs, leaving your vision blurry when he pulls back.

“It’s okay,” Caleb says, his arms sliding under your thighs to pick you up before he dumps you on his bed unceremoniously. “The baby’s going to be mine, and when it is, I’m going to put a pretty fucking ring on this finger.”

“Marriage?” you squeak out, your complaints muffled by his mouth when he crawls over you, his mouth working against yours hungrily.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, pecking your lips gentler this time, “‘m gonna marry you, sweetheart.”

You were fairly certain the constant high altitudes he was flying at had gotten to his brain. Zayne could help, you think belatedly, until that thought is brushed away when he kisses your cheek, his lips returning to yours soon after, his tongue licking into your mouth, 

“What if the baby’s not yours?” you ask him breathlessly, thighs spreading wider when he settles his hips between them.

Caleb frowns at you, his grip adjusting on your hip. “It’ll be mine,” he says self-assuredly, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You can’t be sure-”

“I’ll cum twice,” Caleb retorts.

“That’s- that’s against the rules!” you try to protest, a needy sigh slipping out of you when he mouths at your neck, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin as though trying to erase the marks laid there. “You- you all agreed to cum once ah- to- to make it fair!”

“Nothing fair about this whole thing, honey.”

Your toes curl when he calls you honey, an unbidden giggle slipping out of you. Caleb leans back to stare at your expression, a smile pulling at his lips when he sees you trying to hide away in the pillows, his nose nuzzling into your cheek, pressing soft kisses all over.

“You like that,” he laughs, his hand finding its way between your thighs.

“So- so what?” you ask breathlessly, moaning against his mouth when he slides his fingers between your puffy folds, your lips meeting his for a brief kiss, hips bucking when Caleb rubs your clit.

“So stop pretending like you don’t.”

You paw at his broad shoulders, fingers latching onto his biceps greedily. Caleb groans softly at your groping, his eyes going half-lidded, a pretty pink tinging his cheeks when you run your hands over his chest, squeezing his firm pecs.

“Take your shirt off,” you whisper, hands sliding under the hem of his shirt to feel his bare skin.

Caleb complies, sitting back on his knees. You watch as he pulls his shirt off in one smooth motion, the silver chain around his neck grabbing your attention, the metal of his dog tags clinking together. 

“You still wear these?” you muse as you sit up, your fingers coming up to fiddle with his dog tags, flipping one of them over to read his name stamped into the metal. “Even when you’re not deployed?”

“All the time,” he murmurs, his fingers encircling your wrist, lips brushing over your knuckles.

You shiver at the fleeting kiss, leaning forward, your hands pushing at his chest to get him to lie down. Swinging a leg over his hip, you settle down on his lap, watching the way his dog tags settle between his pecs.

“I suppose you are a big shot, Caleb,” you sigh, biting your lip, fingers skimming down his chest teasingly.

“Colonel,” he corrects, watching hazily as you squirm down to settle on his thighs, fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweats and boxers to pull them down.

Caleb’s cock slaps against his abdomen, hard and thick and somewhat imposing. You stare down at his arousal, cheeks flushing at the sight, watching as his cock twitches, pre-cum smearing across his skin.

“‘s nice,” you offer, hand wrapping around his cock, cunt throbbing when you feel the weight of him in your hand. “And- and big.”

“Bigger than theirs?” he asks, raising his brows, watching you closely as you begin to stroke his cock lazily.

Sylus’ was comparable, but you decide against telling him that, lest he throw another fit. Instead you nod, fighting the urge to roll your eyes when Caleb’s chest puffs out, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

His hand slides between your thighs and you shift, settling on top of it, grinding your hips across his calloused palm, wetness coating his skin. Caleb lets out a heavy breath and you whine, mouth opening and tongue lolling out to let spit drip from your mouth onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, throwing an arm over his face to hide his flushed expression, “baby, you’re fucking insane.”

“You wanted to missile strike another man’s apartment,” you shoot back, trying to pry his arm away from his face, eager to see his expressions. “Wanna see, Caleb.”

“I never said the idea was off the table,” he grouses, tilting his head to the side to let you mouth at his neck, his hips bucking up into your touch, trying to fuck his cock into the confines of your hand. “He could be a security threat,” Caleb mutters, his hands groping at your ass, squeezing and kneading. “Remind me to do a background check.”

“You’re such a baby,” you sigh, peering down to watch his cock move through your hand, tightening your grip.

A glob of pre-cum pools from the tip of his cock and you squirm, trying and failing to shuffle down and take his cock into your mouth, glaring at him when he keeps you anchored against him, on his lap.

“Always hungry for cock, hm?” Caleb coos, drawing out a loud moan from you when he curls his fingers, sinking them into your clenching pussy. “My cock-hungry little slut.”

You stifle a whimper, hips rising and falling as you fuck yourself on his fingers. His cock throbs in your hand and you squeeze, watching as more globs of thick pre-cum bead at the tip, smearing across when you spit down on his cock again, your lustful gaze meeting his.

“What?” you mumble, pecking his lips gently, eyes fluttering shut.

“Nothing,” he breathes out against your lips, his fingers crooking further, your head tipping back when his fingers hit the sensitive spot inside of you, the feeling enough to have you crying out. “You’re just… pretty.”

You blink up at him, lower lip jutting out in a pout, heart lurching uncomfortably in your chest. You press your face into the crook of his neck, your wrist twisting at a faster pace, jerking him off more desperately.

“Ah-” Caleb moans, his hand on your hip tightening when you rock your hips faster, his eyes squeezing shut when he feels the clench of your pussy around his fingers. “Slow down, honey.”

“I wanna watch you cum,” you say, teeth scraping along his shoulder, thumb brushing over the head of his cock, smiling when you feel Caleb jolt and grunt.

“No-” he shakes his head, “no, shit- I can’t cum now, baby.”

You ignore him, hand stroking faster, your other hand drifting to cup his balls, massaging them gently. Caleb curses and you squeal when he slaps your ass, the view of his room changing suddenly when he grabs you by your hips and pins you down into the bed.

You open your mouth to protest, to tell him that you weren’t done stroking his cock, but you’re only met with the creak of Caleb’s bed as he gets off of it, disappearing through the door. Your brows furrow, the bed dipping as you crawl to the edge of the bed. “Caleb?” you call out, “are- are you coming back?”

Your confusion only grows when he returns with your scarf in hand. “I- I wasn’t serious,” you begin, feeling disoriented when he moves towards you, “I don’t actually want to have sex with the scarf on.”

Caleb smiles, his eyes glittering with mirth. “I thought it might help you keep your hands to yourself,” he murmurs, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, making your face scrunch up. 

You stare up at him, head tilting in question. Caleb huffs out a laugh at your expression, nose nudging against yours to land a kiss to your lips this time. His hands slide under you, picking you up before placing you closer to the headboard of his bed. You squirm under him, watching as he straddles you.

While he’s too busy pinning your wrists together, you lean forward, mouth enveloping his cock. Caleb jerks at the sudden sensation, cursing loudly, his body hunching over as you lap at the head of the cock.

“Can you listen for once?” he asks exasperatedly, his eyes narrowing down to look at you as you try to crane your neck forward, trying to take him deeper into your mouth.

Caleb rolls his eyes when you don’t listen, his fingers sliding over your wrists, winding your woolly scarf around and around, effectively binding them together. You whine when his cock slips out of your mouth with a soft pop, trying to sit up only to find your movement restricted. Your head tilts back, a huff of air leaving you when you realize he’s tied your wrists to the railing of the headboard of his bed.

“I didn’t know you were into bondage, Caleb.”

“It’s not-” Caleb sputters for a moment, before he stares at you suspiciously, “how do you know what bondage is?”

You smile up at him sweetly. “I like to read.”

He decides against chastising you, instead making a mental note to pry into whatever it was that you were reading. Your eyes flutter shut when he strokes his hand over your hair, his lips slotting over yours. “Is this okay?” he asks, fingers trailing down your sides to grip your hips, “being tied up?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, pecking his lips gently, “it’s okay.”

You bite your lip as you watch him slink down your body, his lips leaving kisses as he moves. A soft sigh escapes you when he swirls his tongue around your nipple, his teeth biting down gently before he kisses your nipple, smiling against your skin when you twitch.

Caleb’s fingers slide over your stomach, his teeth scraping across your skin. You whimper when he settles between your thighs finally, trying to reach down to run your fingers through your hair only to be reminded of the fact that you’ve been tied up.

“Hands to yourself, honey,” he reminds you, his eyes twinkling with amusement when you pout.

“Jerk,” you murmur, head tipping back when his breath ghosts over your puffy folds, his fingers spreading you open.

“Think you like that about me,” Caleb mumbles, swallowing at the sight of your wet pussy, letting out a strained breath, “‘s pretty, baby. Really fucking pretty.”

You flush, pussy clenching when he licks over your clit, thighs twitching. Caleb’s fingers wrap around your thighs, placing them over his broad shoulders, his mouth opening wider. Tongue sliding through your folds, he laps at your cunt obscenely, your eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. 

He thinks he could die a happy man when you squeeze your thighs around his head, his mouth wrapping around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against the swollen bud. 

Caleb’s name spills out of your mouth repeatedly in a pleading chant, tears pricking at your eyes when he digs his fingers into your thighs roughly. It all feels so good, his mouth on you, the tight grip he has on as though you might just disappear out from under you if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

You blink down at him when Caleb pulls away to lick his lips, his mouth and chin glistening with your slick and his spit, his gaze heady. A whimper leaves you when he bites your inner thigh, over the marks Xavier left, his teeth imprinted into your skin as you surrender yourself to him.

Caleb decides it’s not enough, pressing a kiss to your clit before he’s moving you to flip onto your back, your scarf twisting with you.

“Get on your knees, baby,” he rasps, tapping your hips.

You do your best, face shoved into the pillows as you squirm up onto your knees, feeling slightly mortified when Caleb spreads you apart, his hands kneading at your asscheeks. 

“Don’t- don’t do that,” you whine, body jerking forward when Caleb runs his tongue through your folds unexpectedly.

“You’re shy now?” he laughs softly, biting into the fat of your ass playfully.

You ignore him, too busy moaning into the pillows when Caleb rubs your clit, his face pressing between your thighs, nose pressing up against your pussy. A sharp gasp leaves you, hips rocking back, trying to grind against the bridge of his nose while his tongue joins his fingers, lapping over your swollen clit.

“Caleb,” you mewl, hands gripping onto the railing of his headboard, the wool of your scarf rubbing against your wrists, “nghhh- ah- you’re so-”

“Charming?” he offers.

You let out a strangled laugh, squeaking when his hand comes down on your ass. He spanks you again, and you make a noise in protest, trying to crawl away, except you have nowhere to go, the scarf fastened enough to prevent you. It’s all too much when his tongue presses into your aching cunt, a cry escaping you as Caleb fucks his tongue in and out of you.

He squeezes your thigh harshly and your movements grow more desperate, trying to sway your hips back when his mouth latches onto you clit again, the press of his nose too much to handle. 

“Gonna cum?” Caleb asks, his voice a low growl, “huh, baby? Gonna cum on my fucking tongue?”

“Y- yes!” you squeal, your knees giving out under you when he shoves his tongue back into your cunt, fucking it in and out of you. “Oh fuck, Caleb- oh fuck!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he growls, his fingers rubbing at your clit fast and with just enough pressure that you give a trembling cry of his name, slumping down against the sheets as your thighs twitch uncontrollably, panting raggedly to try and catch your breath, toes curling in delirium. 

Caleb loosens the scarf binding your wrists when he sees you struggling to move, his cock smearing pre-cum across your thighs and stomach as he turns you over, lips slotting over yours in a desperate kiss. 

He’s picking you up soon after, chasing after your lips when you pull away to catch your breath, capturing them again, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Caleb’s kisses are messy, spit leaking out from the sides of your mouth as he settles you onto his lap, his hands running up and down your sides soothingly.

“Can’t- can’t breathe,” you complain, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Caleb grumbles his displeasure under his breath before his eyes catch sight of your reddened wrists. Letting out a sigh, he grabs one of them, fingers running over your wrist gently, lifting it up to his lips to press soft kisses.

“You okay?” he murmurs, reaching for your other wrist, repeating his ministrations. “Was it too much?”

“No,” you say quietly, kissing his jaw, “it was good. I- I um- enjoyed it.”

Caleb smiles when you meet his eyes, his lips pressing up against the pads of your fingers. You smile back, feeling a little shy despite everything. He tucks your messy hair behind your ear, his touch skimming down your throat fleetingly.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he confesses, letting out a heavy breath, his head tipping back to rest against the headboard.

“I’m here,” you whisper, feeling unsure about what else to say, your fingers playing with his dog tags, bringing them up towards you to kiss the small, metal plates.

Caleb’s expression softens as he watches you, his heart thudding in his chest.

“I’m yours, Caleb,” you continue, kissing him sweetly. “See?”

You reach out, fingers sliding under his silver chain to lift it up over his head before you place it around his neck. The metal chimes softly, his dog tags settling between your breasts.

Caleb nearly cums at the sight. You know exactly how to rile him up, know exactly what to do to make him feel like a lovesick fool. He stares down at you, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows, fingers flexing against your hips.

You look so sweet, so soft, perched atop his lap delicately. He doesn’t know what to say when you peer up at him, feeling short of breath when you lean forward to kiss his cheek gently. Caleb’s fingers reach out to graze his dog tags, the cool metal grounding him at least for a moment.

“I hate how you make me feel,” he murmurs finally, hands smoothing over your sides, dragging you closer, groaning softly when your breasts squish up against his chest.

“Sorry?” you offer meekly, biting your lip when he squeezes the fat of your ass.

“Don’t be,” Caleb sighs, his forehead pressing against yours.

He kisses you gently, lips smacking against yours in the quiet of his bedroom. You rock your hips, pussy sliding over the length of his cock. Caleb grunts into your mouth, lifting you up, his hands grasping you under your thighs while you mewl, hand grasping his cock to line him up against your entrance.

“Caleb,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut when he sinks you down slowly onto his cock, nails scratching his pecs at the feeling of him stretching you out, his cock thick enough to have you feeling like you’re being split open.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, “doing so good for me. Taking my cock so well, yeah?”

You nod, still scrabbling at his chest, whining when he sinks you down onto the entire length of his cock, your pussy trying to accommodate his size. Caleb smiles against your cheek, kneading at your hips, muttering soft words of encouragement.

Your eyes meet his, hands sliding over his shoulders to let your arms wrap around his neck. Caleb leans back, resting against the headboard as you shuffle on his lap to get more comfortable, beginning to roll your hips.

“Good girl,” Caleb says hoarsely, “just like that, baby. Take your time.”

Spreading your legs to set a wider base, you rise up before dropping your hips back down, making Caleb groan when he feels you beginning to bounce on his cock, his eyes fluttering shut. You bite your lip at the sight, arms tightening around his neck, fucking yourself on his cock, gasping when you feel his cock twitch.

You think you might feel him in your stomach, his cock so fat and thick that it has your cunt clenching in quick succession in an attempt to readjust with every rise and fall of your hips. Caleb’s dog tags jingle with every bounce of you on his lap, his head dropping forward to rest against your shoulder, his teeth scraping across your shoulder.

“Wanna feel you fuck me full,” you mumble, nuzzling against his jaw, “please?”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, “you wanna be bred, sweetheart? Wanna have my baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod eagerly, sending him a drunken smile when he stares down at you.

Caleb’s fingers hook into the chain around your neck, tugging you closer until you’re moaning against his mouth, his darkened eyes watch the bounce and sway of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock.

“Good fucking girl,” Caleb grunts, “ride my cock, sweetheart. Gonna fill you to the fucking brim.”

His words are obscene, his teeth biting at your lower lip, fingers pinching at your nipples until you’re writhing on his lap. You squeak when he wraps his hands around your waist, letting out a sharp gasp when he picks you up as though you weigh nothing and slams you down onto the length of his cock.

“C- Caleb! ‘s too much!” you wail, nails scratching down his back, unable to meet his eyes properly, not when he’s using you, taking you like you’re nothing but a ragdoll.

“No,” Caleb snaps, “it’s not too much; fucking take it.”

You squeal when he bites your breast, hands flailing for purchase, trying to grab out for something, anything, but it’s hard when he’s fucking you onto his cock like this, your hands landing on his shoulders briefly. The clank of his dog tags is drowned out by the sounds of his balls slapping against you, the lewd noises of his cock thrusting in and out of your clenching pussy.

“Do you like me?”

“Wh- what?” you manage out, lashes fluttering rapidly as you try to blink clearly. 

“Do you like me?” Caleb asks, his voice hoarse and raspy, enough to have you clenching around his cock. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. “Say yes,” he breathes out, pressing his chest more firmly against yours, as though trying to meld your bodies together. 

You feel lightheaded and short of breath when his fingers shift, pressing into your lower stomach. His voice turns into something softer, something more pleading. “Say yes, sweetheart.”

“Y- yes,” you hiccup, heart fluttering in your chest, “I- I like you Caleb.”

“Again,” he demands, nose brushing against yours, his lips hovering above yours.

“I like you,” you say breathlessly, kissing his jaw, “like you so much, Caleb. Wanna be bred, please- please cum inside.” You don’t exactly why you utter the next words, but you figure Caleb ought to be into that sort of thing, the power trip it gives him when he’s clinging to control. “Please, Colonel?”

“Oh my- fuck!” Caleb swears sharply, and you can feel his hips jerk, his grip on you faltering when you call him by his title. “You little minx- fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Sorry,” you whine, smiling against his mouth, pawing at his thick pecs, tongue licking over his lips. “‘m sorry, Colonel. Just- just wanna have your baby.”

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” Caleb groans loudly, fingers dimpling the flesh of your hips, “‘m gonna fill this pretty pussy up, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, feeling beyond fucked out, your head a swirl of Caleb, and Caleb only, unable to register anything other than the feeling of his cock snug inside your cunt, the cool metal of his dog tags against your skin, his mouth on yours.

“Ah-” Caleb whines, high and broken, the sound enough to make your back arch, nails digging into his chest.

He manages to fuck you on his cock a few more times, his hands pushing at your hips until your pussy hugs the entirety of his cock, your ass snug against his balls. Caleb moans into your ear, panting and whining as he cums, his cock twitching inside of you as hot spurts of cum spill out, filling you up.

You twitch atop him, the walls of your cunt fluttering around him, eyes squeezing shut as you feel your own orgasm wash over you.

Caleb clicks his tongue when you try to squirm off of him, rubbing his hands over your thighs when you complain about the ache settling in your muscles.

“Stay,” he whispers, kissing your temple, “gotta make sure it takes.”

A few minutes later, you curl up into his side when he lays you down gently, his hand rubbing over your side soothingly. Only the sounds of your breathing fill his room, Caleb’s fingers stroking across you gently. Your lips meet his when he lowers his head, sighing when he squeezes your thighs, massaging them gently.

“We don’t have to do it twice,” he whispers, “I was just- it was the heat of the moment.”

You stare at him, taking in the softness in his eyes, your head tilting to nuzzle into his palm when he strokes his thumb across your cheek. It’s against the rules, you remind yourself, and yet fifteen years… the number is enough to make your stomach flip.

“Did you mean it?” you ask quietly, your fingers tracing across his chest, over the ridges and dips of his muscles.

Caleb lets out a low sigh, his eyes fluttering shut. “Every word, sweetheart.”

There’s a long stretch of silence and Caleb presses his nose into your hair, his eyes opening when he hears the clink of metal. You give him a shy smile, leg swinging over his hip as you straddle him.

The man under you groans softly when you roll your hips, his eyes raptly watching the gentle sway of his dog tags between your breasts. The soft, sweet sentence that you utter next has Caleb closing his eyes in a silent prayer. You truly were going to drive him to madness.

“Better make up for lost time, Colonel.”

- 

Caleb has never seen you more disarmed than when you’re asleep.

He supposes it’s a bit creepy to stare at you while you’re sleeping, but he can’t help it, having been stirred awake by a cramp in his leg. His fingers ghost across the curve of your cheek, careful not to wake you, an uncomfortable ache piercing through his heart. 

If only he could keep you here with him.

But Caleb knows how stubborn you are, and he knows the rules of this little scheme that he agreed to, even if they are stupid and he’s already broken one of them. He stiffens when you stir, a smile pulling at his lips when drool slips out the side of your mouth, your body squirming as you roll over onto your back.

When he catches a glimpse of your marked neck, his irritation flares again, lips thinning. Caleb supposes he is driven by jealousy, there’s no point in denying it, not when the ugly head of envy rears his head and he finds his vision tinted with a hue of green that makes it difficult to think clearly.

His fingers are curling over your thigh gently, prying your legs apart carefully, his breath catching in his throat when he sees his cum smeared between your thighs and all over your pussy. Messy, he thinks, lowering his head to kiss your hip affectionately.

The flash of his phone camera isn’t bright enough to wake you up. Caleb stifles a groan at the picture, trying to will away the throb in his cock, his gaze entranced by the image of your messy pussy, covered and filled up with two loads of his cum. 

Just like how it should be, he thinks belatedly. Caleb would make it his lockscreen if it wasn’t so intimate. 

His fingers tap across his screen, finding Xavier’s number. There’s no need for unnecessary texts. The image is sent, Caleb’s lips pulling up into a sneer at the thought of the silver-haired man. 

Caleb tosses his phone onto his bedside table, wrapping his arms around, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead, humming softly as you curl up into his arms, snuggling closer as you seek out his warmth. The soft sounds of his clinking dog tags catch his attention.

Caleb decides he’ll need to get an extra one stamped. 

One with your name.

taglist >///<

@serenitymaria @kreishin @qyuin @wegottastayfocus @novthirty @syluslittlecrows @blorbohunter @luvleixo @crimsonmarabou @skylaryoung2002 @multisstuff @chirikoheina @supermissnkta @serenity-loves-red @shi-thats-kiera @froleineeeee @jaynawayna @schooki @minyoongi-pouts @mizienjoyer @isagistar @zaynesnowflake @athena-portgas @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @cutelittlesugarfairy @pookiei-bookie @dooopiee @rafshottestgf @thetimetravelernightmare @slytherin-min99 @envy-of-greed @paninisstuff @h0ngh0ngh0ng @nezuswritingdesk @teeheeheartless @flwerie @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @babyx91 @thisaintviolet69 @scoupsonlycherry @blubearxy @midiplier @young-adult-summer @daisys-mushroom-garden @sunsethw4 @lads-ficrecs @buffytheangelslayer @helios-eyre @browneyedgirl22 @straows @lennysnicket @actuallynarii

[lovesickhughes]

If possible I'd like to send out an amore letter with the prompt "mirror sex" with quinn hughes

a/n: of course, my fav prompt with my fav 😜

18+ under the cut!

You were exhausted, the long hours on the boat— loud music blaring from the speakers, mixed with loud chatter of the boys and their girlfriends— so when you came into the house after a fun-filled afternoon with more prominent tan lines and dry hair, you knew it was a day well spent.

You stood in the bathroom that was attached to Quinn's room that you thankfully got to share after being together for five years now, mentally shuttering at the thought of having to share a room with one of the rambunctious boys that drank until they couldn't possibly drink anymore and fool around like they were still little kids.

Stripping from your oversized t-shirt and linen shorts that covered your damp bathing suit, you heard the soft knock on the door, knowing the familiar pattern, which allowed you to invite the anticipated brunette to appear once the door opened.

"Hey, baby." Quinn greeted softly, walking up from behind to pull your back against his chest as his hand slipped around your waist, his coarse, dry fingertips scratching against your sun-kissed skin. His hand gripped at your hip with a sense of urgency as he tucked his head into the nape of your neck and inhaling your scent. "I love this piece on you." He mumbled against the skin of your shoulder, sending vibrations through your body.

You turn around in Quinn's grip, letting out a giggle as your own hands find their way around his shoulders to link behind his neck. "Quinn," you giggled, tilting your head back to expose more of your skin to which Quinn took as an invitation to connect his lips to your sensitive skin.

You took in a sharp breath at the feeling of Quinn's soft, wet lips marking their way across the landscape of your throat, and the feeling of his hands gripping your hips so tightly sent your mind into a spiralling mess.

You felt dizzy almost, as if you needed to ground yourself by gripping Quinn's broad shoulders as he continued to work down the valley of your chest.

When you slightly pushed Quinn's shoulders away from yours, his now swollen lips were all that caught your attention as he searched to meet your gaze.

"I'm tired from today," You groaned, biting your lip in the meantime as Quinn pulled you closer, pulling you into a hug as his hands explored the scape of your back, running along all the curves and never leaving one piece of skin untouched.

He shook his head, quickly pecking your lips in between, "That's okay, babe, just let me take care of you, 'kay?" He mumbled against your lips, his hands on your back raising to your jaw to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss and trailing his tongue against your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

When you softly moaned, leaning and melting into his embrace and allowing for his tongue to connect with your own, it was as if you had levitated with pleasure, the euphoric feeling of Quinn knowing you like the back of his hand to maneuver in such ways that had you begging for more. So when you stumbled back to bedroom through the doorway of the bathroom and the back of your knees hit the mattress, the feeling of Quinn's broad, bare torso hovering over you while you were in almost nothing, your back arched to connect your chest with his own, urging him to do something more.

When he pulled away from your neck, breaking the trance he had fallen into, his eyes met yours, dark and filled with lust as a smirk pulled on his face.

"You look so beautiful like this." He complimented, reaching to cup your jaw and run his thumb against the expanse of your cheek. His eyes darted down to between your bodies, seeing the glistening spots against your body from where his mouth just was, while noticing and feeling the pulsating constraint of his shorts, almost painfully restricting his cock from being where you both silently wanted it to be.

Quinn suddenly leaned down, tilting the side of your face against his palm so his mouth could reach your ear, "Turn over for me?" Quinn asked quietly, almost as a whisper as his breath fanned over your ear, making goosebumps spike across your skin and you bit the inside of your cheek, attempting to hold back the grin that was itching to spread across your face.

You obeyed Quinn's request, rolling onto your front, all the while Quinn adjusted himself, balancing on his knees against the mattress as he pulled your hips back to have you on all fours.

You could feel the pulsating heat between your legs and the wetness growing as you watched Quinn maneuver behind you, preparing for the moments ahead where you both would feel nothing but pleasure.

Looking ahead, you caught the sight of you on all fours, ass pressed against Quinn's hardened cock, your hands splayed in front of you to balance, in the mirror that stood in the corner of your room.

Just at the sight alone, you sunk into your hands further and when you felt Quinn's warm tip press against the cheek of your butt, you watched him through hooded eyes in the mirror as he fumbled with the fabric of your bathing suit bottom, tugging it down to your knees to allow him full access to what he desired most.

Feeling the tip of his cock glide against the wetness of your pussy alone made your mouth fall agape, but when he pressed into you, sinking his member into your core and bottoming you out, filling you to the brim— your eyes practically rolled back in pleasure.

Quinn's hands grasped at your hips to steady himself and you whined at the familiar feeling, vibrations of euphoria being sent through your body. Quinn stayed in his position to allow you to adjust to his length, but it wasn't long before he began to slowly pull away, sliding in and out of your pussy and quickening his pace, the sounds of his hips meeting your own filling the room.

Soon enough, his rhythm had picked up and your body jolted in response to each of his deep thrusts, whines and moans falling from your lips at each contact.

"Quinn," You called, almost inaudible as you stumbled across his name, the feeling of his tip hitting the most pleasurable spot distracting you. His one hand that was placed on his hip traced along your side, across your shoulder and up to your chin to reach and tilt your chin back to he could see more of your face in the mirror.

"What baby, what do you need?" He said through gritted teeth, still carefully thrusting into you in ways he knew would send you over the end.

"Harder, fuck— and faster." You moaned as your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of pleasure erupting through your body as his other hand had managed to slip underneath your body and find your clit, toying with the bud to have you squirming beneath his grip.

"Yeah? You want more?" Quinn taunted, slowing his thrusts, making your chin fall to your chest, but it wasn't long until Quinn's hand gripped your hair, tugging it enough to pull your head back up to watch him fuck you from behind. You nodded profusely, hoping to earn more from the man who was making your desperately hornier as each second passed by.

Quinn grinned slyly, his stomach contorting as he continued to strategically thrust into you. "Can't give you more right now, baby— we'd wake the whole house up. So I'm gonna fuck you so slow, and so good until your shaking and breathless and coming over my cock." He said sternly, almost as if it were a demand. You looked at him with sorrow eyes, throat bobbing as you swallowed thickly, the amount of pleasure erupting through your body almost becoming unbearable.

"Think you can handle that?" Quinn asked, pulling at your hair once more, to which you muttered out a 'yes'.

Quinn exhaled sharply through his nose, "good girl, taking me so well, listening to me so well. Fucking made me for me."

[romanoffshouse]

I Feel Safe

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda noticed that you're not feeling well, and is there to comfort you.

Warning: depression

Word count: 900

Translation: detka = baby, malyshka = baby, lyubov' = love

Masterlist

You were the only one who was always there for Wanda, since Pietro’s death and then when that happened in Lagos. She was very closed off at first, but you were always there for her.

After a few months you two started dating. You were always so caring with everyone, especially with her. A week ago, you started to close yourself from the others.

One day, Wanda accidentally read your mind, as your thoughts were too loud. Wanda heard very concerning thoughts, so she came up to you.

“Malyska, are you okay?” she asked as you two were in bed.

“Yeah” You nodded.

She raised a brow, not believing you. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Mhmm” You hummed in response.

Wanda leaned over you, still staring into your eyes. “I can tell when you’re lying..”

You sighed and said, “I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“Why?” she asked. “I’m sure whatever is going on will feel way better if you just talk about it.”

When you didn’t say anything, Wanda sighed, grabbing your chin and making sure you look in her eyes.

“Detka, please... just talk to me.”

You looked at her and she gently stroked your cheek, looking at you in concern.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know”

She smiled slightly, gently caressing your cheek. “Good. So please, tell me.. what’s wrong?”

As you looked at her with a sad and nervous expression, Wanda frowned slightly, seeing the expression on your face and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Hey, please.. just talk to me.”

“Not sure” you said quietly.

Wanda tightened her hug. “What do you mean you’re not sure? There’s something clearly bothering you.”

“I don’t want to bother you with my problems.” you said, feeling ashamed.

When Wanda heard that, she pulled away from the hug and looked at you, her expression soft.

“Hey, you’re not bothering me. I care about you, and I want to help you when you’re going through something. So, please tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Okay... my depression is getting really bad lately.” you spoke.

She softened, holding you even tighter.

“Oh detka… why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could’ve helped..”

“I don’t know” you said, looking down.

Wanda moved away, gently grabbing your face with both hands and making you look into her eyes.

“Promise you’ll never bottle up your feelings like this again. I’m not gonna force you to tell me everything, but I need to know when you feel bad, or else I can’t help you.”

You nodded and Wanda gave you a gentle smile, gently stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“Good. You can always talk to me.. you know that, right?”

“Yeah” you said, and she pulled you into her arms again, holding you close.

“And I’m here for you no matter what. Always.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled, gently running her fingers through your hair.

“Of course. I’m here for you whenever you need me, okay?”

You nodded, and Wanda still held you close, gently rubbing your back and placing a soft kiss on your head.

“Do you feel like talking more, or do you just need me to hold you for now?”

“Can you just hold me?” you asked.

She smiled at you and nodded “Of course”

She laid you both down, wrapping herself around you and holding you close. She gently traced patterns on your back, trying to soothe you. Her embrace helped you calm down a bit. Wanda held you close, continuing to trace patterns on your back. Her head rested against the top of yours, just trying to comfort you.

“I’m right here, okay? ...I love you.”

“I love you too, Wands”

She smiled at the nickname, still holding you close and tracing her fingers comfortingly on your back. She placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Just relax, baby… I’m not going anywhere.”

Wanda continued to hold you for a while longer, trying to soothe you through her embrace. She knew it took time for you to calm down, so she waited patiently until you seemed more relaxed.

“Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asked quietly, her hand gently rubbing your back.

You nodded and she smiled gently, glad that you were feeling a bit better.

“That’s good... you scared me for a minute there. I hate seeing you like this..”

“Sorry”

Wanda shook her head slightly, running her fingers through your hair.

“No, don’t apologize... just promise me you’ll come to me about this kind of stuff more often from now on, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll try”

She smiled, giving you a kiss on the top of your head.

“Thank you… I know it’s hard to open up when you’re feeling down, but just remember I’m always here, okay? No matter what.”

“Mhmm”

She laid with you in silence for a while longer, continuing to rub your back and comfort you. She didn’t want to talk anymore about your depression, fearing it would make things worse for you.

“Just rest, lyubov’. I’ve got you.”

“I feel so safe around you” you said

She smiled at your words, feeling happy that she was making you feel safe.

“I’m glad.. I’ll always be here to keep you safe, okay? No one’s going to harm you while I’m around.”

[dismalflo]

dinner to stay!

sirius black x reader ✩ 2.1k words

summary: dates with a particular barista have been going exceptionally well. tonight, Sirius is determined to cook dinner for you.

coffee to go! (part 1)

cw: barista!sirius, fluff, alcohol, little bit of awkward n nervous reader

an: all i thought about while writing is the phase of a relationship where domesticity is all new and fun and sweet.

Sirius—the barista who made you dumb—has taken you on a few dates now.

The first was coffee, naturally. He picked a quiet spot tucked away from the bustle, one he'd deliberately chosen because it wasn’t somewhere he’d ever worked before—which, as it turns out, rules out a surprising number of cafés in the city. He made a joke about being a “former coffee mercenary” as he slid your drink across the table, fingers brushing yours just a little too long. You pretended not to notice. Or maybe you didn’t pretend very well.

The second was the art museum, where you drifted together through tall, echoing halls and laughed quietly in the corners of exhibits no one else cared about. That turned into a long walk through the city as the sun sank lower, painting everything gold. Shoulders brushing, and when your hands bumped once, he didn’t pull away. Neither did you.

Then there was dinner. The kind where you both forgot what time it was until the restaurant started dimming the lights and wiping down tables. You left only because you wanted to keep talking, feet wandering nowhere in particular until you found yourselves tucked into the corner booth of a dimly lit bar, music playing just loud enough to let your conversation slip into something softer, closer. Neither of you really wanted to leave.

Each night has lingered longer than the last. Not on purpose, not exactly. Just a pattern you’ve both fallen into, stretching the time like taffy—one more street to walk, one more drink, one more story. An excuse to stay just a little bit longer.

So when he asked—grinning, eyes lazy and knowing—if he could cook you dinner, you said yes before he even finished the sentence.

He’s sweet. Ridiculously so. The kind of sweet that sneaks up on you, folded between his sharp jokes and even sharper cheekbones. He’s kind, too—gentle in the way he listens, thoughtful in ways he doesn’t draw attention to. And unfairly handsome. But beneath all that, he’s a gentleman, through and through.

Except when he isn’t.

Like when he claims he meant to call your mum, not you.

So when he opens the door barely five seconds after you knock, you already know what’s coming.

“Fuck,” he groans, and the corner of your mouth twitches, betraying the grin you’re trying to hold back. “I thought you were your mum.”

“I know,” you sigh, mock-disappointed. “She’s busy with her other boytoy, so she sent me instead.”

He guffaws, already tugging you inside and into a hug. “Oh, you’ve got jokes now? I miss when that kind of talk made you all flustered.”

“You’re too predictable for your own good, Sirius.”

He ushers you in with a grin that’s more boyish than smug. And then—too casually—a kiss is dropped to your cheek. Just a whisper of lips. Barely there. But your heart stutters anyway, completely ignoring your best efforts to play it cool.

“You look lovely, poppet.”

It’s sweet. Too sweet. The kind of compliment that should feel smooth, effortless—but from him, it lands somewhere between disarming and dangerous. You're still learning how to navigate this version of Sirius—the soft-spoken flirt who says things like that and means them. Or maybe he doesn’t. You’re not entirely sure yet.

What you are sure of is that it's becoming comfortable, but even so, you linger in the doorway to the kitchen unsure of what to do or where to place yourself, where you are and aren’t allowed to look. It feels a little like you’re intruding, despite the fact that Sirius’ invite was as enthusiastic as you’ve ever seen him. 

Your eyes follow him as he moves around the kitchen, the ease with which he works is both impressive and amusing.

 After a few seconds of watching you from the corner of his eye, he turns fully, brow raised.

“Why are you still standing there, love?” His voice is warm, teasing—but not unkind. He flicks a hand toward the table. “Come on, make yourself at home. Sit. You’re not gonna be any help in here unless you fancy stirring the sauce?”

It’s an olive branch, and you know it. A very thoughtful attempt at making you comfortable, giving you options. You latch onto it like a lifeline.

“I—I can stir,” you say, the words tripping out too quickly, like your brain wasn’t sure whether to joke or accept. A half-laugh slips free after, nervous and breathy, before you nod like you’re convincing yourself it was the right answer

He smirks, leaning one elbow on the counter like he’s posing for a portrait. “Oh, so you are trying to impress me tonight?”

“In your dreams,” you fire back, but your voice lacks the usual snap. There’s a smile tugging at your lips you can’t quite hide. “I’ll just sit here and let you work your culinary magic, then.”

With a theatrical sigh, he steps toward you, takes your wrist gently and leads you to the table like a dance partner guiding the first move. His fingers are warm. His touch lingers a little longer than it should. You try not to notice, but your body does anyway—heat blooming low and traitorous. Every touch from Sirius is golden.

“Just sit there and look pretty,” he says over his shoulder, like it’s nothing. But there’s a wink with it. A twinkle. It’s enough to send your pulse skittering again.

“That’s more than enough. Anyway—drink? Wine?”

You raise an eyebrow, daring him. “Good wine?”

He snorts, crossing the tiny kitchen like he’s gliding. “You’re about to find out, darling.”

He grabs a bottle of red with one hand, corkscrew already in the other. The ease with which he uncorks it is borderline ridiculous—like he was born in a vineyard. You can’t help but watch the way he moves, the light in his eyes when he’s showing off, even if he pretends he’s not.

He places the glass in front of you with a small, almost shy smile—like he’s waiting for your verdict. You take it with both hands, fingertips brushing the stem like it might steady you.

“Cheers,” he murmurs, gently clinking his glass against yours.

You smile—really smile this time—as the glasses meet.

-

Dinner, as it turns out, is incredible. You don’t even try to hide it when you take the first bite. Sirius watches you expectantly, elbow on the table, fork hovering in mid-air, invested in your reaction.

“Oh my god,” you say around a mouthful, borderline scandalized. “You made this?”

He grins like he’s won an award. “I did warn you I was a man of many talents.”

“You did not. You said, and I quote, ‘I mostly survive on toast and charm.’”

“Which is technically true,” he says, raising his glass with a smirk. “This is a very special occasion. I had to dust off the actual pots.”

You snort into your wine. “Is that why you had to waft the smoke alarm with a tea towel?”

He groans, dragging a hand through his hair. “Okay that was sabotage. I swear I didn’t even burn anything.”

You laugh, and the warmth of it stays with you even after the plates are cleared, glasses topped off, and the kitchen starts to dip into darkness. You offer to help clean up, and Sirius waves you off with a dramatic “Not on your life, doll.” So instead, you find your way to the sofa, toes curling into the rug as you settle into the cushions.

A moment later, he drops down beside you with a satisfied sigh, two fingers brushing casually over your knee as he settles the wine bottle on the coffee table.

And then… you’re just there. Close. Close enough that the heat from his shoulder warms your skin. Close enough that your knees are almost touching. You hadn’t meant to sit this close, but neither of you makes a move to change it.

He turns his head slightly toward you, hair falling into his eyes. “Comfy?”

You nod, and then—with a breath you hadn’t meant to say anything on—you murmur, “Thank you. For tonight. For all of it.”

His brow quirks, smile softening. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do, though,” you say, turning to face him more fully. “It’s just… this has been really lovely. You’ve been really lovely.” Your voice dips, a little unsure now that it’s actually coming out. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t expect to feel so… happy. Being around you.”

His eyes widen slightly, just for a second, before he beams—this wide, unguarded smile that lights up his whole face. It hits you right in the chest.

“I’m glad,” he says, voice lower now, more sincere than you’ve ever heard it. “Because I feel the same. Every time we hang out, it’s like…” He trails off, looking at you like he’s trying to find the right word. “It’s just easy. Being with you feels… right.”

You don’t say anything at first. You can’t. Not when he’s looking at you like that, like you're some kind of rare find. A small silence stretches between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

Then, as if drawn by something invisible, your hands find each other in the space between you. His fingers wrap around yours, slow and certain, like he’s done it before in a dream and is just now remembering how.

You glance down at your interlocked hands—his thumb brushing over your knuckles like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Then you look back up at him.

“That’s what it feels like,” you say quietly. “Right.”

He hums softly at your words, and something shifts behind his eyes—like he’s turning a thought over and over in his head, polishing it until it shines. Then, slow and deliberate, his hand slips from yours.

His fingers brush your cheek first, warm and sure, before they trace upward—tucking a stray lock of hair gently behind your ear. The touch is impossibly tender. It makes your breath catch, your chest rise and fall a little faster. He lingers there a moment longer than necessary, his knuckles brushing against your skin.

His hand drops back to his lap, but the space between you stays charged. Like a wire has been strung taut from his heart to yours, and neither of you wants to pluck it just yet, too scared it might snap.

Swallowing, you think maybe you should say something—but what? That your heart is trying to climb out of your chest? That if he doesn’t kiss you soon, you might never recover?

But you don’t have to say anything. Because Sirius leans in.

Just a fraction.

His eyes flick to your lips. Once. Twice.

He’s giving you time to pull away. Room to say no. But you don’t.

You don’t want to.

So you meet him halfway.

And when you do, it’s like slipping into something you didn’t realize you’d been missing.

His lips are soft, warm—familiar in a way they shouldn’t be, not yet. Not after only a few dates. But they are, and that’s what startles you the most. Not the kiss itself, but the way it fits. Like it was supposed to happen, like the build-up wasn’t nerves or chance or coincidence, but inevitability.

It’s not rushed. Not some fiery, frantic first kiss born from impatience. It’s slow. Lingering. Like he’s learning the shape of your mouth, memorizing it for later. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw—fingers light, thumb grazing your cheekbone—and the gentleness of it nearly undoes you.

You sigh against him, and he catches it with a hum, like he’s been waiting to hear that exact sound.

There’s a moment, brief and dizzying, where time feels completely suspended. Just the press of your lips, the curve of his smile when he realizes you're smiling too, mid-kiss.

When he finally pulls back, it’s by millimetres. He stays close, forehead brushing yours, noses nearly touching.

His breath is still warm on your lips when he murmurs, “I’ve wanted to do that since you tried to flirt with me by giving me the wrong number.”

You laugh, too surprised to be embarrassed. “That wasn’t flirting! I was nervous.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, voice rough and smiling all at once, “I thought you were gonna melt into the floor.”

You hum, a little dazed, a little dizzy with the closeness. “Still might.”

His hand slips down to yours again, fingers lacing easily. His thumb brushes over your knuckles like he’s memorizing the shape of them. His voice drops even lower.

“Don’t,” he says. “Stay.”

And you do.

masterlist <3

[gayasswitchbitch]

Miscommunications.

Portgas D Ace x Reader

Warnings: a bit smutty, implications, fighting, angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety things, insecurities, idfk

3.6k words.

Summary: After a spicy night with Ace someone accidentally walks in on you naked and causes a drift between you and Ace.

The air was filled with breathy moans and cherry scented perfume, both a courtesy of your sweet hearted boyfriend, Ace. He had spent the last half hour making you gasp for breath and beg for more. Most of the time that was more than enough for him to feel satisfied. Seeing you fucked out after being so desperate for his touch, god, was it thrilling. Knowing he could please you so easily fulfilled the praise kink he tried to hide. He wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

You lay now naked, cuddled up onto his chest while his hand traces soft patterns into the plush of your skin on your back. Ace takes his time even after the fun stuff is over. He needs you to understand just how loved you are by him. He starts with kissing your temple, once kiss, then twice kiss. “You’re so beautiful, my love.” He says. Then moves down to your cheek. Kiss, kiss, kiss. “I don’t deserve you, you’re so perfect. So sweet.” He plants another on your nose, your jawline, neck, chest. Kiss, kiss, kiss. He can’t help himself. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“Ace!” You laugh. No matter how many times he’s done this you can’t help but melt. “I love you too.” He plasters that goofy smile on his face.

“Do you really?” He asks in a playful tone. Truthfully, at times he still had a hard time believing someone like you could love someone like him. He knows your answer, you always say yes, but part of him needed the reassurance anyway.

“Yes, Ace I truly love you! And you love me right?” You ask with a hint of mischief in your tone. Ace knew what was next. After sex, every single time, you ask him to ‘pretty please get a glass of water for your sweet and loving partner.’ With his body temperature being so hot, and maybe him fucking you so good, it always leaves you sweaty and dehydrated. He chuckles lightly.

“Does my baby need a glass of water?” He asks.

“Maybe…”

“How did I know? You got it. I’ll be right back.” Ace planted a kiss on your lips this time before heading to the door. “I’ll be right back. Love ya.”

“Love you too, Handsome.” Aces heart stops for a second and you notice as he’s walking out he grins big, face flushed in a deep red. With how flustered he gets over a small compliment, you probably wouldn’t guess he just spent the night whispering heinous things into your ear while fucking you dense. He touches your body so dirty, heated and raw, yet loves you so gently and innocently.

With Ace gone for a few minutes, you look around the room. It’s a complete mess. Pillows thrown, blanket hanging off the bed, shoes scattered about, your clothes are…somewhere in this mess.

With a big sigh you roll out of bed to find them. Checking under the bed, you notice everything BUT your clothes. ‘Geez. he’s so messy’ you think. A bag, handfuls of paper with sporadically written notes, boots, no clothes. You decide to check by the dresser, the desk, and again, nothing.

You think maybe the last place they could be is his closet floor. Upon opening it though, you’re met with cobwebs and empty hangers.

Down the hall you can hear Aces footsteps approaching, already back with your glass of water. You replay the events the led to right now. ‘If anyone knows where they are, it WOULD be him’ the doorknob starts to turn and you’re eager to ask the raven haired man where he had decided to throw your clothes. The door swings open with force and who’s standing there is not your boyfriend, but Tatch, frozen in place and mortified. The poor man had come with papers in hand ready to talk to Ace about tomorrow’s mission. Unfortunately he couldn’t have worse timing.

You’re mortified by the intrusion, rushing to the bed to use the sheets as cover.

“WHY ARE YOU BARGING IN HERE?” You yell. Oh god, telling Ace about this is going to be a nightmare. Tatch whips his body around to look away, nearly hitting his head on the door frame.

“I AM SO SORRY- I DIDNT- YOU- IM NOT USED TO HIM HAVING SOMEONE IN HERE IM SORRY-“ he’s a stuttering mess. “ILL BE LEAVING NOW I AM SO SORRY.” He starts to swiftly walk away and you imagine Aces distraught over knowing his best friend has seen you naked. Your boy has such a tender heart, but also a possessive one.

You jump up from the bed, sheets still covering you and make your way toward the door as fast as you can. You need to stop him and figure out what to do before Ace gets back. “Tatch!” You yell after him. “Wait!” But he was too fast. Like your clothes, he’s no where in sight.

“Fuck!” There’s no way this is happening right now. What the fuck do you tell Ace?

‘Hey babe while you were gone your best friend walked in and saw me naked haha.’ In the middle of your panic you hear another set of footsteps making their way toward you. ‘For the love of god please let it be Ace this time.’

“Babe!” Ace tries to whisper, panic in his voice evident. ‘Thank god.’ You think. ‘Thank god it’s him.’ A wave of relief washes over you. “What are you doing standing in the doorway? Someone might see you!” Too late. Ace wraps an arm around your shoulder and guides you back inside the room.

Together, you both plop down on the edge of the bed. “Sorry…” you say. Immediately he can tell that something is wrong. The room that was previously full of lightheartedness is now filled with dread. He sets the water down beside him, and turns toward you. “Are you alright?..you seem off.”

He asks. Ace reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers. He likes the way his skin feels on yours. It feels natural, having you so close.

Your heart races. So much for the relief. Unsure of what to say, you lift yourself onto his lap and pull him close. Maybe it would be better to sleep this off and figure out what to do with a clear head. Maybe a talk with Tatch on how to tell Ace what happened tomorrow would help as well. “I just…” your voice shakes and his chest tightens. He would do anything to make you happy. What could have you so upset that you couldn’t tell him? “I love you and I think I’m getting really tired. Could we get some sleep?”

Ace frowns. Part of him wants to pry. Had he said something wrong before? Was it something he did during the act? His mind is swirling with endless possibilities. It’s not until you plant a soft kiss to his cheek that his mind finally shuts up.

It’s not long after that he pulls the blanket up over you both and starts trying to lull you to sleep with soft praises.

The next day you try to approach Tatch while he’s preparing dinner. He’s the most content behind a stove, so the best way to talk about something uncomfortable would probably be in his happy place right?

Ace and Marco are across from the kitchen playing a card game. Ace sees you walking by and grins widely while waving to you. He’s reminiscent of a puppy wagging his tail, happy to see you no matter how little time it had been. You return the gesture and continue to make your way to Tatch. Ace is a bit confused as to why you’d be going in the kitchen at this time. Usually you’d be finishing up chores or reading on the lower deck, but he continues his game, trying not to give it a second thought.

The kitchen is hot and smells of fresh garlic. Tatch is by the stove, cutting up veggies and humming to himself. He’s so lost in song that he hadn’t heard you walk in, but It doesn’t take long for him to recognize your presence. As he turns to drop the vegetables into the pot, he jumps at the sight of you.

“I really didn’t mean to!” He yells in a panic and eyes widened. Now YOURE the one panicking.

“Tatch! Quiet down! We don’t need anyone else knowing about this!” Little did either of you know that it was too late. Ace heard the commotion and hurried toward the door to check on the two of you, but stopped dead in his tracks the moment he heard what you said. His anxious thoughts started taking over again. What could be going on between the two of you? What would the love of his life and one of his closest friends be hiding?

Ace can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His breathing is heavy and he doesn’t want to hear anymore, but he can’t move.

“Tatch,” you continue. “What happened between us.. it was weird. I don’t want to think about it, I’m sure you don’t want to think about it…” Ace scoffs. ‘what happened between us? What the hell does that mean?’ Ace presses his ear closer to the door and now it feels like his heart is trying to escape from his chest. “But we have to tell Ace. We can’t keep this from him.”

“I know and the longer we wait the worse this will get.” He didn’t want to admit how embarrassed he was to face Ace.

Aces spiraling turns is now a full blown meltdown. It’s not as bad as it sounds, but to Ace.. it’s the worst thing imaginable. His partner and his best friend! Behind his back. Cheating. He’s never felt a betrayal this deep. He’s so sad, so angry. Just as he’s about to burst through the door to call you out he hears Tatch speak again.

“Let’s not talk about this here okay.. let’s meet on the deck tomorrow…after everyone settles down for the night. We can make a plan there.”

Ace doesn’t know what to do. He leaves before you know that he heard, and makes his way toward Marco. Marco notices how dilated Aces eyes are and how heavy he’s breathing.

“Ace! Man, what’s up with you?”

“Y/n, Tatch. They’re seeing eachother behind my back. Planning to run away together, leave me in the dirt.” He was a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s basically what you had said right?

Marco deadpans. “Ace. You idiot, what the hell are you talking about?” He thinks Ace might’ve actually lost his mind.

“I heard them Marco! Saying they’re going to meet up tonight when everyone is asleep to do their dirty deeds.” He sneers.

Marco is a logical man. He knows this must be some sort of misunderstanding. He’s never seen someone love Ace as profoundly and deeply as you do. He also knows that Tatch wouldn’t ever do that to Ace either, out of the deep brotherhood they share. He tried to explain this to him with no avail. He hates it.. but he thinks the only thing that might work to make Ace see that light is to stir the pot just a little bit. Did he also want the juicy details on what exactly was going on.. maybe, but he’d never admit it.

“Alright Ace. If you’re so sure… let’s follow them. We will wait for them to make their way to the deck, and we can listen in on their conversation.”

“And break my heart more?” He looks up at Marco, like a kicked puppy with his watery eyes and shaken body.

“No. To get proof. Then, we attack. Expose them right there.”

Ace reluctantly agrees and mopes back to his bedroom. He knew you’d be here any minute to cuddle up next to him. It was an every night thing, him waiting for you to arrive so he can wrestle you into the bed and suffocate you with cuddles. Had you been doing this with Tatch too? His heart sinks at the thought.

When you do arrive he’s not his usual upbeat self. He doesn’t want to cuddle, he doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t even want to have sex. You rub his back trying to get something, anything, out of him.

“Ace, baby… what’s wrong? Talk to me.” He doesn’t say a word. Just lays there still. You try again. “I love you.” for the first time in your relationship he doesn’t say it back. Was he mad at you? You wonder if he overheard and is angry that you hadn’t told him sooner. You did your best to sleep, but ended up tossing and turning all night. Overthinking, wishing this could all be over. Just one more night. One more night and things will be back to normal.

At dinner the next day, Ace is staring daggers through Tatch. He won’t look at you because he knows he’s too weak. He can’t bring himself to be angry at you, especially when he knows If he were to see the solemn look on your face he’d give in.

Your guilt starts to bubble. he must have heard the conversation and if that’s true.. who knows what the hell he’s assuming right now. He barely touches his food. He cant eat the food of a traitor.

When the time comes to talk the sky is dark, lit with only a few seeable stars. There’s a cool breeze and if this wasn’t such an awful situation the ocean waves and sound of the ship gently rocking would be calming. You and Tatch aren’t looking at each other, just out to the sea past the rails. A few feet way sits both Ace and Marco hiding behind some barrels.

“I need to apologize to him. I feel so guilty. What must he be thinking?” Tatch looks deeply saddened by the thought of hurting him. This had all become a much bigger deal than it needed to be.

“Hey. Im sure after we explain everything he will understand.” You place a hand on his back for comfort and Ace thinks he might explode. He doesn’t want to understand. He doesn’t want anyone else to have you, to know you in the ways that he does. If he were to die he’d lie and say he wants you to move on but in reality he’d haunt whoever dared tried to approach you. He’d scare away everyone until you met him in the afterlife. You two were just supposed to be.

“Then how do we do this?” He asks. You sigh, trying to wrack up an idea on how to make this easier on the both of you. Behind the barrels Marco is doing is best to reel Ace in. It’s not helping much. The more he sits there the more heated he becomes.

He’s so frustrated he’s starting to cry again. Unable to bare it anymore, he stands from behind the barrels and starts making his way towards the two of you despite Marcos protests.

“If you guys wanted to be together so bad you didn’t have to go behind my back!”

The shock of both his sudden presence and his obscene words scares the both of you. Your words scatter as you try to explain, but Ace is done being patient.

“Whatever you’re going to say… save it! I’ve heard enough. How could you do this to me?” His voice cracks, so does your heart.

Tatch now chimes in. “Ace, it’s not what it looks like! I swear. Please listen.” Ace pushes him back.

“No. I don’t want to hear it!”

“Ace.” Marco finally gets out from behind the barrel and chimes in to calm him down. “At least listen to what they have to say.” Ace whips around to look at him and I f looks could kill, Marco would be a dead man. “We don’t know the full situation. Let’s hear them out first.” Ace turns back to the both of you. He wants to fight more, yell more, tell both of you to fuck off. He’s acting like a child, he knows that, but he’s never loved someone as deeply as he has loved you. He’s never felt a pain his rough. Yet, even still, when he sees the sadness in your eyes he gives in, like he knew he would. He can see the worry, the stress his yelling is causing you. He thinks you’ve betrayed him and still doesn’t have the courage to hurt you in any way. He’s too weak for you, so instead he flops to the floor, sitting with his head down. You follow. You throw your arms around him.

“Baby.. it’s not what you think.” You cry.

“We swear it’s not! I made a mistake I didn’t mean to see her naked!” Tatch, you idiot. Aces head shoots back up and the look on his face is terrifying. Tatch would be a dead man too. Even Marcos is at a loss for words, just staring jaw dropped. You’re panicking again and furiously explaining.

“No! He didn’t see me naked! Well, he did, but not like that!” Ace tries to stand. He can’t bare to hear any more of this but you pull him back down. “Wait! Please! Let me finish! Please don’t go I don’t want to lose you!” He hears your voice breaking. He’s losing his resolve again. “That night… the last time we..” you look to the other two men and feel a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want everyone knowing about your sec life but keeping Ace was worth a little embarrassment. You clear your throat to continue. “The last time we had sex.. when you left to get me a glass of water I got out of bed to find my clothes.” Both Marco and Tatch are now looking away from you, a light flush on their faces. “Tatch had come to your room wanting to talk about a stupid mission. He stupidly walked in without a knock or anything and happened to see me standing there naked. He immediately turned away and left. He feels so guilty.” Ace doesn’t look convinced. You readjust your position. You place your hands on either side of his shoulders and look into his eyes. “That’s really all that happened, baby I swear. I love you. I love only you. I’ll only ever love you. I’ll only ever want you to touch me. Please believe me.” He can see the desperation. He almost hated how well he knew you, how easy you’d become for him to read. He wipes his tears again, reaches for your cheeks and wipes your tears as well. When he looks at Tatch, the man is in shambles.

“I’m sorry Ace! We should’ve just told you then and there but I panicked! I made it worse by trying to sneak around. I’m so sorry.”

You take a step back from Ace and he sits in thought for a moment. Everyone is tense waiting for his response. He feels so stupid, making a huge scene over a miscommunication. A miscommunication over you and Tatch having a fear of losing him.

For what’s hopefully the last time tonight, his heart strings are tugged again. He feels truly loved, and also embarrassed. “I’m sorry guys.. I shouldn’t have made a bunch of assumptions. Shoulda just talked to ya I guess.” He looks at you, this time tenderly, and you smile. You’re so overwhelmed with emotion and the sheer happiness of him understanding now that you tackle him to the ground and cover his face in kisses and I love yous. You don’t care who’s watching.

“See!” Marco speaks up again, secretly loving to watch how the drama of the night unfolded. “Told ya nothing weird was going on.”

“Whatever! You were just as shocked as me!” Ace picks the both of you up and places you in his lap. He squeezes you in a tight hug. “Y/n.. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I got so angry and I’m sorry I wouldn’t listen. Please forgive me.” You giggle.

“I forgive you. I’m also sorry. I should have told you sooner and I shouldn’t have made you worry so much.”

He lets out a big sigh. “It’s all alright now. I’m just glad it’s not what I thought.” Ace put you down and stood up to go hug Tatch. They both apologized profusely to each other.

“I didn’t want to assume.. I’m sorry I did I …guess I went a little crazy.” He’s ashamed and he should be just a little bit, but Tatch understands.

“Ain’t never seen a man go that crazy for someone that they didn’t love more than anything in the world. I can’t hate ya for that.”

“I guess I can’t hate you for seeing something so stunning either.” Ace gives you a wink like he didn’t embarrass everyone all over again with the thought of seeing you naked.

It’s finally over and Ace decided it’s time for some much needed rest, He needs you extra close tonight. He says his goodnight to the guys and when they���re gone he throws you over his shoulder to head to his bedroom. “Y/n. Again, I’m sorry. I love you. So much.” He kisses your lips feverishly. He didn’t realize how much he missed you in one night. He can’t keep his lips and hands off of you. It was clear that tonight would be another long night, hopefully this time with no one walking in.

[ahiyashi]

The Bet

Synopsis:After your friend ditched you at a bar, you place a bet with a random man you just met

Tw: completly consentual sex, gambeling, slight overstimulation

“Come on. I promise it will be fun,” your friend says as she drags you to yet another bar. You rolled your eyes responding “you said that about the last two bars. Can we just go home now?” You cursed yourself for letting your friend drag you out on another Friday night when you wished to be at home tucked into bed with a good book.

But no, you let your extroverted friend convince you to go for a night out. You knew her pattern. She would want to go to a few bars to find her next hookup. Dressed in a skintight dress and black heels, she walked into your room to see you getting ready for bed. Knowing that you don't like for her to go by herself, you put on a (f/c) cropped top and some shorts. You put a little makeup on and let your (h/c) hair down.

As soon as you walked in, you both made your way to the only empty table, and sat. Your friend removed her heels,and ordered some drinks. Not long after, a man with silver hair, and black glasses approached the two of you. He sat down and extended his hand out which your friend immediately took. “Hi. The name's Satorou and can I just say you two are the most beautiful women I have seen all night.”

You rolled your eyes. On the other hand, your friend could not take her eyes off of him. For the next hour and a half, the two openly flirted with each other. Ultimately your friend ended up leaving with this guy promising to return once they finished hooking up. While you've had a few hook ups, you saw no problem with her leaving, until you remembered that the keys to the apartment you shared were in her purse.You immediately picked up your phone to call her. To your annoyance, she hit ignore.

So there you sat alone and bored. You noticed that one of the TVs in the bar was displaying night boat races, and almost every one was placing bets. You thought that would be a good pastime, And decided to place a few bets.

In the last two hours, you already won two hundred dollars. While you were sitting at the edge of the bar looking down at your ticket for the next race, you didn't notice the man on the other side that was silently observing you begin to walk over to where you sat.

"Now what's a pretty lady like you doing in a bar all alone?" You did'nt want to look at the man, so you kept your head down. "I'm waiting for a friend. He should be here any minute", you lied. You were not telling a complete stranger that you were alone. The man just laughed. "No offense princess, but I've been here this entire time, and saw your friend leave with another gentleman. Either you are lying, or whatever friend that is supposed to be here stood you up."

Annoyed,you look up at the man disturbing your peace. Unlike the other men that were staring at you, this one was different. He was tall, wearing a tight black shirt that showed off every muscle on his top half. He had short raven like hair with a scar on his lip you figured had to be from random bar fights. This man was definatly your type, but you would'nt let him know that.

The man sat down next to you. "I'm Toji", he said sticking his hand you. When you did'nt reach out to shake his hand, he immediatly put his hand back down. He looked at your other hand and noticed the racing slip that you were clinging to. "What's a pretty girl like you doing placing bets? I bet you haven't won once". Annoyed, you looked him straight in the face and replied, "I haven't lost yet plus it's none of your buisness asshole."

Toji put his hands up in a surrendering manner. "Ok, I did'nt mean to upset you." He then sat his head onto his giagantic fist and stared at you. "Tell you what, since you haven't lost yet, let's make a side bet. If the boat you choose loses this race, then you have to spend the night with me".

You glared at him dumbfounded. Did he just propose what you thought he did. He was braver than the other guys who just stared at you all night.

"Do you really think im going to take a crazy bet like that from a man I just met?" Toji laughed at you. "Well if you have'nt lost a bet yet, then this should'nt be a problem." " And if my boat wins, what do I get besides you leaving me alone," you asked. Toji sat and thought about it. "If you win, I'll give you two thousand dollars". He stuck his massive hand out to shake yours once more. " are we in agreement?"

You hesitated for a moment before putting your small hand inside his massive hand. "It's a deal. Two thousand is a lot of money."

~~~After the Race~~~

You looked in disbelief at the ticket in your hand as the race concluded. You lost and he won. You had to spend the night with a total stranger you just made a bet with.

Toji on the other hand was over the moon that his boat actually made it across the finish line first. He could'nt believe that because pure dumb luck the hottest girl in the bar had no choice but to hook up with him. He looked at you with an amused expression. "So, I think you should book the room since you lost."

You rolled your eyes. "Just because you got lucky-" Toji cut you off "it just means I scored the hottest chick in here". He said with pride.

You could'nt believe this was happening. You wanted to run, but a bets a bet, and you just lost.

You sent your friend a quick text letting her know where you were going. She sends you a thumbs up and asks for a pucture of Toji which you immediatly refused to do. The other men in the bar looked at Toji with jelously and dis belief when they saw him leaving with you.

"So you never told me your name. I want to know the name of the girl I'm about to fuck."

"Do you have to be vulgar," you asked rolling your (e/c) eyes. "It's (y/n)." Toji shrugged his shoulders while you two walked down the busy street.

The walk to the hotel was not that long. You rented the cheapest room they had. The whole way to the room, Toji's grin was getting wider and wider. You opened the door to the room, and walked in to a beautiful area with a single bed, tv, and bathroom.

You started to relax, until you heard the door close and lock behind you. You forgot Toji was right behind you. "So, should we engage in small talk, or get to the good stuff. I promise you, this will be the best night of your life.

You looked at the annoying asshole briefly and rolled your eyes. "Ugh. Let's just get this over with." You walked towards him, pulled your (f/c) top over your head and threw it to the floor.

Toji looked at you with an amused expression. He slowly walks towards you while taking his own shirt off. He gave you a few seconds to admire every line and peck on his toned body. He pulled you close, and placed his soft lips onto yours. You were suprised at how fast he moved, you gasped in to the kiss. He took that moment of suprise to fully insert his tounge almost down your throat.

You made out for a while before he started running his lips up and down your soft neck. His lips were susprisingly gentle running up and down your exposed neck. You sighed and closed your (e/c) eyes while leaning closer into his body. You suddenly felt the straps of ypu (f/c) bra lossen up and begin to slide down exposing your soft chest. You were so in the moment that you did'nt even feel his hands move in that direction.

His hands were gentle as they massaged your breast. Every time his thumb made it's way across your nipple, it would send shivers down your spine. Toji took one of you supple breast into his mouth. He began lightly suckling on it running his soft tounge across your sensitive nipple. After grazing his teeth gently across your sensitive flesh, he switched to the other breast giving it the same treatment. The sensation was too much and you began to whimper and sigh while running your soft hands through his short, black hair.

Toji took your hand, and walked you over to the bed. He pulled his pants along with his underwear off of his body. You looked down and saw how big he was. You were nervous that his massive cock was not going to fit onto your tiny hole. He then sat down on the edge of the bed. "Since you lost, it seems fair that I get to fuck your lovely mouth first."

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Are you ever going to stop rubbing it in," You asked. Toji laughed while slowly rubbing his cock. "Yeah I will. Right after I finish fucking you throughly."

You kneeled in front of him, and took his large cock into your tiny hands. You gave it a few soft strokes before lighlty licking the tip. Toji took in a sharp breath. Slowly, you began to take him little by little into your mouth. Once the tip made it to the back of your throat, all at once you spit him out. You took him in again, moving your head up and down at a quick pace.

Toji layed back on the bed and closed his eyes. It's been a while since he was sucked off this good. He let out a loud groan when he felt you teeth lightly graze against his sensitive organ. He felt your loveley mouth leave his aching cock and was replaced by your soft hands. "Keep this up, and I'm gonna bust. You're doing soo well. It's been a while since I had a decent blowjob." You rolled your eyes, and went back to sucking Toji off.

Without warning, Toji's cock began to twitch, and a large load of salty cream shot into your mouth, and down your throat. You managed to swallow all of it with little choking. Toji looked at you suprised. "Damn, I wasn't expecting you to swallow it all. that was hot." Toji sat back up,pulled you into his lap, and lock his lips with yours once again. He flipped you over so you were laying on the bed, and he was on top of you. He unbuttoned, and pulled off your shorts and underwear in one motion. You felt his hands gentally begin to rub your pussy.

"Since you did an amazing job of getting me off, allow me to return the favor." Toji planted one soft kiss to your lips, on your neck, and down your stomach making his way to your waiting pussy. He gave your pussy one light lick (giving you a quick jolt of pleasure strong enough to make you gasp) before he fully began to devour you.

Toji would switch between licking your clit, and rubbing it before he settled on roughly sucking your clit while his large fingers were pushing deep inside your soaking pussy looking for the spot thay would make you scream. When you let out a mixture between a moan and a scream, he knew he found it, and began to roughly stimulate it.

The pleasure he was giving you was too much you tried to close your legs around his head to slow him down, but he just pushed your thighs wider and continued. You were a shaking moaning mess as he put his whole mouth around your sensitive flesh. He was punishing you with slow strokes of his rough tounge. The pleasure became too much and you felt yourself going over the edge. Your body shook, and you let out a loud moan. Toji did not slow down as he worked you through your orgasm, loving the taste of you rapidly flowing in to his mouth. He made sure to savor the taste before swallowing it in one big gulp.

You lie there breathing heavily, seeing stars. Toji sat up marveling at how your large breasts moved up and down from how heavy you're breathing and your fucked out expression. "My tounge did all this huh?" He climbs on top of you, placed a soft kiss on your exposed neck. "You're more than ready to take me now."

"You do have a condom right?" You asked him sitting up. Annoyed, Toji leaned down to where he discarded his pants. "Yeah. But, I thought since I won I could fuck you without it." You retorted back " Hell no. I may have no choice but to fuck you, but your wearing that damn condom. Even if you didn't have one I would've made you go get one. "

Toji pulled the little silver package out of his pocket. He tore the top off, and slid the clear peice of rubber over his massive head,and down the shaft. He gathered what slick that was left from eating you out, and used it to lubricate his masive cock. Lining himself up, He slowly slid himself in. The streatch stung for a moment, then was replace by a tingling sensation. You closed your eyes and welcomed the feeling. Toji made you feel fuller than any other guy you slept with.

After sliding himself all the way in, Toji pulled all the way out, and slammed back into you. He set a quick pace. Each hard thrust sent a strong wave of pleasure in to your body. You closed your eyes, screaming out his name. Toji's large hand slid down your trembling body and began to quickly rub your crying pussy. The sensation caused you to cum all over his hand. When he lifted his hand back up, the juices were sliding down it on to his wrist, which he immediatly lapped up.

"I've never fucked a girl that got this wet before. Your pussy is taking my large cock with ease."

Toji got off of you, and flipped you over so you were on all fours. He realigned with your pussy, and slammed back in, setting an even quicker pace. With how deep he was going, it was a struggle to stay on all fours. You fell foward with your ass high up in the air. Toji smack your ass a few times leaving a slight red mark. Your poor pussy couldn't take anymore, and you came screaming his name.

Toji felt his end was near. His thrusts, while still going fast and deep, were becomming sloppy. He felt your pussy twitch and suck on him harder. He made sure to release deep in to you. His seed overflowing up and out of the condom and on to the sheets.

Toji pulled himself out of you, and removed the now sticky peice of plastic off his slowly softening cock, and lay on his sweating back. You flipped over and lay across his chest and you two drifted off to sleep.

[inlovewithfionaapple]

just a few nights

warnings:

wc: 948

they were back in vegas by the second week of august. heat shimmered off the pavement, the city buzzing in that late-summer, late-night way only vegas could manage. kelsey’s apartment had never felt so… full.

y/n had been crashing there ever since they got back from tahoe. it started with a “just for a few nights” thing—kelsey had said it casually while unlocking her door, and y/n had nodded like it wasn’t a big deal.

but then y/n’s toothbrush appeared next to kelsey’s. her hoodie lived on the back of a kitchen chair. a pair of socks mysteriously stayed in the dryer for three days. and suddenly kelsey realized her place smelled like y/n’s shampoo.

she liked it.

she loved it.

but she hadn’t said it out loud. not yet.

—

it happened one night after a grocery run.

they were unloading bags in the kitchen, the kind of quiet rhythm that only comes with familiarity. kelsey was halfway through slicing strawberries when she looked over and just… watched y/n. hair in a messy bun. barefoot. arguing with the oven like it was personally disrespecting her.

and something clicked.

“hey.”

y/n looked up. “yeah?”

kelsey hesitated, holding a strawberry like it might answer for her. “i was thinking… maybe you should just move in.”

the words hit the air like a missed shot in a silent gym.

y/n blinked. “wait—like, officially?”

kelsey nodded slowly, setting the knife down. “yeah. i mean, your stuff’s already here. you’re already here.”

y/n’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “are you sure?”

“do i look like i’m not sure?” kelsey stepped around the counter and wrapped her arms around y/n’s waist. “i like waking up next to you. i like your weird music in the shower. i like that you drink all my almond milk and then blame the cat we don’t have.”

y/n grinned, her voice small. “i didn’t know you noticed.”

“i notice everything about you.”

there was a pause, soft and full of something unspoken.

“okay,” y/n said, eyes shining a little. “let’s do it.”

kelsey smiled, relief loosening her chest. “yeah?”

“yeah. but i’m not putting my diploma in the hallway. it’s ugly.”

“it’s literally a piece of paper.”

“it’s the piece of paper.”

“i’m framing it next to my championship ring.”

“oh my god.”

—

they spent the next week moving boxes from y/n’s old apartment into kelsey’s.

it wasn’t glamorous. it was dusty and full of mismatched mugs and chaotic piles of shoes and one long debate over whether they really needed five throw blankets.

but it was also laughter. takeout on the floor. music playing from a phone speaker while kelsey built shelves and y/n danced like an idiot behind her.

and on the first night everything was finally in place, they sat on the couch in silence, legs tangled, sharing a bowl of cereal at midnight.

y/n leaned her head on kelsey’s shoulder. “this feels weird.”

“weird bad?”

“weird good. like… this is our place now.”

kelsey kissed the top of her head. “it always was.”

the next morning, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft patterns on the living room floor. kelsey was already awake, stretched out on the couch with a coffee cup cradled in her hands. she watched as y/n shuffled into the room, hair still tousled from sleep, her feet bare against the cool floor.

y/n paused, her eyes flicking over the space—a mix of their things, settled in a way that felt right, that felt like home in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

“you look like you’re thinking too hard,” kelsey teased, her voice low and lazy, still warm from the sleep she hadn’t fully shaken off. “what’s up?”

y/n let out a soft laugh, but there was a glimmer of something else behind her eyes—something more vulnerable, a bit unsure. she sat next to kelsey on the couch, tucking her feet under herself. “just… this. it’s a lot.”

“i get it,” kelsey said, reaching over to squeeze y/n’s hand. “i think i’m still processing it, too. but it’s okay.”

y/n smiled at her, the kind of smile that reached her eyes, and then she leaned into kelsey’s side, letting the warmth of her presence fill the quiet space between them.

“i never thought i’d be this happy,” y/n admitted softly.

kelsey’s heart beat a little faster. she tucked her arm around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “yeah?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, though the words felt like they were written just for this moment.

“yeah,” y/n murmured. “this is… everything i’ve wanted. i just didn’t know it.”

kelsey kissed the top of her head again, savoring the feeling of y/n’s softness, of the easy, unspoken promise between them.

for a long moment, neither of them spoke. they just sat together, surrounded by the mess of boxes, mismatched furniture, and the kind of stillness that only comes with being exactly where you’re meant to be.

finally, y/n broke the silence with a playful grin, nudging kelsey with her shoulder. “so, are we actually going to eat the cereal? or just stare at it like it’s some profound statement about our new life?”

kelsey laughed, reaching for the bowl. “we can start with breakfast and see where it takes us. maybe to a kitchen full of new stuff we don’t need to buy.”

“deal.” y/n took a spoonful, and they fell into their new rhythm—small moments, big feelings, and the understanding that this was just the beginning.

[theanxiousghostartist]

TMAGP 39 - Dependents Spoilers

Reactions and Theories

Reactions:

GEORGIEE!! Ok, so Sam episode! Yay!!

Alice's parents' house?

Could still be alive? So TMAGP!Alice's parents are dead?

Breaking and Entering, go Georgie! Be gay do crimes!

Sam's humming is a fun nervous habit

TMA!Alice!

She's kissing him??

They were married???????????

Oh shit, TMA!Sam is dead...

Oh that's interesting, a lot of couples were trapped together.

Dreamsharing??? Like Jon and Elias did????

Ok, so Alice is in retail, beep-beep.

They were in the Flesh domain... That would make sense with TMAGP!Sam's trauma with the skeleton at the Institute.

Oooof, as a trans person, I am relating really hard to this story(? statement?) rn

Not the flesh being transphobic too /jjj

T4T Sam and Alice anyone?

This is very statemnt-y... Is [ERROR] there? Or Sam, do you have something you want to tell us? A connection with the Eye perhaps?

I wonder if Basira's a dreamer? With Daisy?

"Don't leave." Ouch.

THANK YOU SAM, SOMEONE NOTICED!

Oh, so they ARE going back to Alice. That's gonna be bad. She and Sam in TMA-verse (from her statement at least) seemed pretty co-dependent...

THE ARCHIVIST CAN TRAVEL THROUGH THE TAPE RECORDERS???? IT'S THE ONE LISTENING??????????

Theories:

From what we know so far about TMA!Alice, everyone she loved (her parents, Luke, and Sam) is dead, and she is stuck alone, with the only connection to her past being through her dreams (to Sam). This STRONGLY parallels TMAGP!Alice, which makes me extremely worried for her and her meeting with Heinrich Unheimlich even more worrying, with his Flesh elements (the cannibalism (?) pigs).

However, there is a difference between the two Alices: Our Alice isn't with Sam, she is not in a co-dependent relationship with Sam. I hope that this is enough to change her fate. Furthermore, while Alice is working on getting Sam back, she is more focused at the moment, with retracing Colin's steps and figuring out what FR3D1 is. I'm hoping this connection (as well as Celia's friendship and Gwen's friendship (possibly more)) will save her. She has much more of a support system in TMAGP and she has the added "distraction" (for lack of better words) with Colin's notes (and Joe Spooky's cousin/j).

The Archivist seems to be growing more powerful, with the traveling through tape recorders and (possibly) compelling without being physical present or killing Alice (although, I'm more inclined to believe that this was Sam compelling her, as he has been the only one to survive the Archivist when giving a full statement). What's interesting about this is that it's not going after Sam. It not going after Georgie and Melonie makes sense - one cannot feel fear and the other severed her connection with the Eye, but it has no real reason NOT to finish Sam off, unless it can't. This might mean that Sam's connecting to the "leftovers" of the domain, however, he probably won't Become, since the Fears are much more present in TMAGP!verse.

As for the next Sam episode, I think Alice might die. It would make sense for her too, she's stuck with the Fears as the only chance to see Sam (her Sam), and would probably jump at the chance to see him again (sort of like Ash in ep 37). I feel like it's going to act as a wake-up call of sorts for Sam? Like, oh shit, this could happen to MY Alice (as she's actively in danger with Heinrich Unheimlich). Maybe TMAGP!Alice Becomes. She will probably get scars. Maybe (but hopefully not) she'll die (please don't die TMAGP!Alice). Either way, it would act as a nice parallel between universes.

Based on the pattern, episode 40 should be back in TMAGP!verse, so I guess we'll get to see what will happen to Alice (please don't die, please don't die, please don't die).

See y'all next week!

(No updates on the Bingo yet. I mainly based it on TMAGP!Verse- Gwen hasn't screwed up completely yet and we haven't seen those I predicted we would see from TMA so...maybe something next week?)

[vendimeyers]

I love country dancing because the songs are so misogynistic but the people are so respectful and nice it doesn’t even matter it’s literally:

The world’s most enthusiastic dance instructor: okay now that we have the choreography down I think we’re ready to do it with music!! Dance is for everyone okay line up! 5. 6. 7. 8 ☝️

The music: 🎶Hey gurl. Your butt is fine and my bed is empty. Sorry for the impoliteness but ur so good at dancing that men can’t help but objectify you. It’s not our fault. The size of my truck is a metaphor for my penis. Love u gurl🎶

Me(unironically): I really like the vibes here I think I’m gonna keep coming back

[sonknuxadow]

^ guy who has to draw funny hedgehogs or else they will die

[mondscheinprinzessin]

Anyone else have that "problem" that when they write on a fic immediately after reading a book they suddenly write in the writing characteristic of the author of that book?

[tyrantisterror]

When I was 3 years old I went to a preschool that had this little green crocheted crocodile finger puppet that was my absolute favorite toy to play with of all time. I named her Chelsea, because Chelsea starts with C and crocodile starts with C and more often than not wild animals in fiction aimed at kids have names that start with the same first letter as their species. I played with Chelsea every day, because she was my favorite toy, and because the other kids weren't really interested in her, and also because I eventually started to hide her in a special secret spot in the room so no one else would find her before I did. She was so beloved by me that when I graduated from preschool, my teachers gave Chelsea to me permanently, because it was clear no one else would ever love that little crochet crocodile as much as me anyway (in part because I hid her). They waited a few weeks after I graduated before doing it, too, and sent Chelsea with some post cards as if the crocodile had been on a whirlwind "travel the world" vacation before deciding to come live with me.

And Chelsea remained my favorite toy all through my childhood. There were others I loved nearly as much, like my Imperial Godzilla and the big red T.rex from the first Jurassic Park toy line and my tiny knockoff plush Charmander, but Chelsea always held the place of honor in my heart. She was my absolute favorite toy.

I kept a lot of my favorite toys through adolescence, even if social pressure eventually got me to give away a lot of them (and some, y'know, broke). That's obviously not surprising to you if you've followed my blog, since I still collect toys into my adulthood. But it's important to note because while I know I made a conscious effort to never throw out Chelsea every time I pared down my collection... at some point, she went missing.

I became aware of it when I graduated from high school. I was feeling really emotional about leaving that stage of my life and, y'know, becoming an adult and shit, and in that state I decided to find Chelsea to reassure myself that I hadn't entirely left childhood behind. But Chelsea wasn't there. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find Chelsea anywhere.

And that was, like, devastating, because the only explanation was that somehow, at some point, I had accidentally tossed her out with some other "childhood junk" while trying to grow up and be responsible in my teen years. I had literally thrown away my childhood in a careless attempt to be more grown up.

Of course I knew she was just a toy - nothing more than some yarn twisted together in the loose shape of a crocodile, lifeless and soul-less and more or less worthless in the objective light of day. But she was also Chelsea, my best friend since i was three, my stalwart little pal, a source of comfort for most of my life at that point, and I had just... tossed her out! Like garbage! What kind of person was I becoming if I could do that to my best friend?

I was very visibly distraught, and my mom noticed. Being very crafty, she tried to find the pattern for Chelsea so she could crochet me a new one. The problem is, she had no idea where to find said pattern. She checked all her books of crochet patterns, and when that failed she tried the internet, but no matter how hard she looked, she found nothing.

So my mom found the next best thing.

The original Chelsea was a tiny finger puppet, and I had "met" her when I was three. Well, I was eighteen now - shouldn't Chelsea have grown too? And as has been established, this crocodile was fond of whirlwind vacations. My mom found a pattern that looked as much like Chelsea as possible while also being a much bigger crocodile, and gifted her to me before I left for college - to show that while we can't stop the flow of time or how it changes us, that doesn't mean we have to leave it behind.

And yeah, I decided to believe it. That's Chelsea now. Yeah, I know that in reality it's a completely different set of yarn made by my mom rather than... whoever it was that crocheted the original Chelsea, but then, Chelsea was never really the yarn. She was the feelings I put into the yarn, you know? So that's Chelsea, all grown up, and still my most prized toy.

...

Flash forward... Jesus, eighteen years, holy shit. A few weeks ago I saw a post trying to identify a different crochet crocodile pattern, and thinking it was cute, I decided to try and look for it on ebay and etsy, just to see if maybe I could find it. I didn't, but do you know what I found instead?

A very familiar crochet crocodile finger puppet. An intensely familiar one, you might say. Of course I bought it. And of course I asked the seller if, perhaps, they might have the pattern for it or know where it came from (they did not, alas). And after a few days, she showed up at my house.

She's not Chelsea, obviously. For one thing, she's far too clean and fresh looking - Chelsea was very well loved, and looked the part, while this crocodile finger puppet has definitely not endured years upon years of a child's affection. And, more importantly, she's not Chelsea because we've already established that Chelsea grew up into a bigger crochet crocodile. This has to be Chelsea's younger sister, Cici.

And if I could find another of Chelsea's kind after all these years, then maybe, with a bit of luck, I might find the pattern for her, and be able to make more of them. Fill the world with Chelseas.

[foldingfittedsheets]

It started with cantrips, which is why it took people a while to notice. The first few events were people on the news talking about how they’d been needing a light and then suddenly they’d waved a hand and said words and there was light. No one really believed them but as more reports were verified suddenly more people came forward with even less believable stories of what everyone really didn’t want to call magic. Even though it was pretty obviously magic. Spectral floating hands grabbing things that were out of reach, whispered messages that reached their friend seated too far away to hear them.

An EMT who whispered a word and suddenly saved a dying man.

Then the darker stories started filtering in. 

Words spoken in anger causing explosions. Poison spewing forth from a hand gesture. One person gave a retort so witty that someone was hospitalized. 

Everyone was scared, but the nerds started to figure it out fastest. It sure wasn’t the scientists who were doing the equivalent of crying on the floor in the fetal position in their respective labs while reports poured in globally of these occurrences. A growing movement online started spreading lists. They had all the blessings people might have gotten and regardless of how many people scoffed no one could really deny that every instance of magic correlated to a website listing the cantrips in Dungeons and Dragons. People pooled their collective resources to help quantify what was happening and facts started to emerge.

Everybody got one. You had to be at least thirteen to use the magic. That pretty much summed up the only other common denominators. Otherwise it seemed completely random, the magic didn’t line up with any existing character traits. You just unlocked one piece of magic each. People with aggressive cantrips were almost loaded up into camps for suddenly being so dangerous- however many hit points real humans had it was apparently not a big number. A lot more deaths occurred than anyone could feasibly track and the global population panicked.

The legislation for the camps got struck down. There were riots and confusion and for a while everything was pretty chaotic. Firebolts and Eldritch Blasts went off from sheer exuberance as much as anything else. Amidst the rioting were people just living their lives, not using their cantrips. It took a while for things to settle down, but humans can get used to most anything if given enough time.

Almost everybody scanned the list to figure out which they got, but someone with Chill Touch just enjoyed frostier beverages than most even if it made you think about death more to drink something after the skeleton hand had been wrapped around it. At least it looked cool. Most people didn’t really do anything other than play around. A youtuber who had gotten Shape Water suddenly surged in popularity as she pivoted her channel to creating beautiful patterns with colored water. Other online personalities quickly followed and those with combat focused magic set up backyard target practice to show off. Some fires resulted as well as numerous noise complaints and a law was passed limiting where people could practice magic. It was virtually unenforceable but the people in charge were trying to keep a grip on the situation.

Noticeably the largest subset of the population that used their magic were those who had gotten Spare the Dying. Every government turned out the call that such individuals would receive a generous stipend for taking to the hospitals and stabilizing the sick and injured. Death rates dropped substantially, but it was still only a cantrip. Cancer marched on, but many got to live after miraculous recoveries.

Months passed and things started to become a little more normal. There were still debates about what had caused it and how to regulate magic but day to day life settled down. Speculations over what the long term ramifications would be continued as well as why those cantrips. Wizards of the Coast refused to comment for the first six months, closing its doors to the rioting and keeping them closed. At the end of six months they abruptly published a new line of cantrip cards with all kinds of utility and no combat usage whatsoever. The internet exploded and the government wasn’t pleased, but nothing happened. No one got any new magic. People wondered if those under thirteen would manifest the new stuff, but no one did. They just blew out their thirteenth birthday candles and got handed a cantrip like everyone else. 

A year later a mechanic in rural Canada was peering into the engine of a busted car. He realized he needed some lubricant and instead of reaching for his can he waved a hand and splattered the car with Grease that had burst from his hand. He was a calm sort of fellow so he called up the local news and said there was more magic. They asked first what cantrip he had- folks who received Prestidigitation had made a number of false alarms on receiving additional magic. The mechanic told them his cantrip was Infestation which he’d never had cause to use after figuring it out. 

The press descended and demanded a demonstration. Most people had read up on the basic rules of magic at that point, so everyone understood when the mechanic said they’d have to wait until the next day. A media storm went up the next day with headlines blaring that first level magic had been unlocked after the passing of the lunar new year. 

A wide contingent had been waiting for this opportunity. The spell list went out again amidst less panic but more chaos. There was a rash of identity thefts no could trace and eventually people realized Disguise Self posed a significant challenge to daily life. Celebrities had trouble convincing people they were who they said as random citizens took their faces on numerous joyrides. A scandal broke when it turned out an A list actor had hired someone else to play them while they went on vacation but the details were kept very hush hush.

Hospitals called out desperately for anyone with healing magic and most of those blessed with Cure Wounds and Healing Word answered. People with Goodberry formed community food kitchens and for the first time it seemed like hunger could actually be eliminated. Veterinary offices and zoos made special positions for those who could cast Animal Friendship and Speak with Animals.

A celebrity chef hit the jackpot with Purify Food and Drink and made a whole spinoff series where she went dumpster diving and made five star meals out of rotting leftovers. Several people changed careers entirely to lend their services to study ancient texts with Comprehend Languages. Even one hour a day led to huge leaps in discovery and understanding of ancient civilizations. 

A small murmur of worry followed the new influx of skills and power. What would happen when more magic was unlocked? The amount of people now running around with dangerous combat spells was even greater than before. Would people have to worry about necromancy? New crimes were being invented faster than laws could keep up as magic was put to novel and interesting uses. 

A year passed and everyone waited with bated breath for the lunar new year, but nothing happened. 

But I’m pretty sure I figured it out. We got handed cantrips. And we waited a year for first level spells. I’m pretty sure it’s one more year, and then things will really start to get interesting.

Inspired by this poll. If you enjoyed my writing consider leaving a tip on my Ko-fi!

[amaranthinespirit]

new neighbor!simon riley whom you bring cookies to as a way to welcome him to the neighborhood, so naturally he has to pay you back, right?

you'd seen the moving trucks pull up at the little house next door, peering through the frilly curtains that frame your window, pulling back the blinds to peek through the cracks at who this new neighbor is.

you couldn't get much of a glimpse, though you saw the tall, looming stature dressed in a dark void for clothes, and a mask over his head that made your tummy writhe with unease.

nonetheless, you turned to your kitchen and decided you'd make a housewarming gift. it was the nice thing to do after all!

so with a warmed plate of fresh cookies in your palms, you tediously stepped down the stones from your little abode to the sidewalk between yours and his new house. your shoes padded along the concrete before approaching his door.

a tender fist knocked knuckles against the firm door, an innocent glint in your eyes as you patiently waited for the man to open the door.

simon wasn't expecting anyone, hell, he hadn't even told anyone he had moved. his ears perked at the shallow knock, his socked feet padding against the wooden floors before peeking in the little peephole.

last thing he was expecting was a sweet little thing such as yourself to be waiting for a brute like him to answer the door, but he didn't want to keep you waiting much longer now.

with a creak, the door opened and revealed his daunting figure that towered over you. you felt his shadow cover you as you look up to him, mumbling a few measly words welcoming him to the neighborhood.

his face, more like his eyes, were stoic, but you noticed a slight crinkle in his skin, the mask shifting ever so slightly as a gruff voice responded to your words, "thanks, luv', why don'ya c'mon in?" he offered.

because the least he could do is invite you in for a cuppa, sit down and chat while you shared the plate of cookies over the island in the kitchen, right?

it felt sinful, leading a little doll like doe into his house, the door slowly creaking shut with a slight push. nonetheless, a large hand splayed across your lower back to guide you to the empty kitchen, boxes scattered along the floors.

your hands gripped the edge of the island tightly, your knuckles turning white as you bite back soft mewls. simon was kneeled, a hand pressing down on your back to keep your stomach against the counter, face buried in your sopping cunt. its compensation, lovie!

he groaned, slick drooling down his chin, nose buried in your pussy. the warm of his breath caused goosebumps to rise along your skin, his other hand full of fatty flesh from your plush rear, pulling the muscle aside to allow himself access to your sweet, drooling pussy.

you were so sweet, just like heaven, how could he refuse! besides, you were dripping for him anyways.

his lips latched to your folds, slurping up your slick with lewd squelches, teeth grazing your clit with soft nips as his tongue pushed past your walls.

your spongy walls contorted around the pink muscle as he coated your pussy in saliva, mumbling almost incoherently, "fuck, s'sweet, luvie. tastier than the damn sweets."

your knees trembled, buckling because of the pleasure as your walls pulsed around his tongue. a convulsing pattern as the heat in your tummy built with rising anticipation of ecstasy. your hips squirmed under him, but his strong hands manhandled you to how he wanted.

come on, lovie, you'll learn he needs quite a few sweets after having been deprived of them so long.

he'll take care of you, wipe you clean with a damp washcloth and throw a warm, definitely too big shirt fresh from the dryer over your body and convince you to stay the night.

give him your key to get your stuff, lovie! but don't question how he managed to get a copy so quick.

[solxamber]

How to Tame Your Dragon - Malleus Draconia x reader

Since you and Malleus have gotten into a relationship, you've become a bona-fide dragon soother. But whenever you fumble, the entirety of NRC faces the consequences.

aka the 7 times you cause ecological disasters and the 1 time it works out for you.

this is one of my favorite works i hope y'all enjoy it too

Instance 1: The Unbirthday Party Fumble

It all started so innocently, as most disasters do.

You were sitting on a bench in the gardens with Malleus, who was in one of his "look at my shiny things" moods. He had decided to show you his prized possessions from his extensive, possibly cursed, hoard. Usually, this was an easy gig. You’d nod, say something like “Wow, so shiny,” and then give him a kiss. Easy peasy.

But not today.

Because today, your brain decided to take a little vacation while your body stayed behind, stuck on autopilot.

You were half-paying attention, your focus more on the distant ruckus over at Heartslabyul’s tea party, where Ace and Deuce were most definitely in the middle of doing something stupid. Riddle was probably screaming about proper fork placement, Trey was juggling a thousand responsibilities, and Cater was... doing whatever Cater does.

You could hear the faint sounds of plates clinking and people panicking about the sugar cubes being uneven. It was practically a symphony of disaster waiting to happen.

Meanwhile, Malleus was holding up what looked like a teapot. But not just any teapot—this thing was ornate. Gleaming, intricate patterns, probably blessed by some ancient fae god of beverages. You didn’t notice any of that, though.

Instead, when Malleus asked in his deep, romantic, “I’m-giving-you-a-piece-of-my-soul” voice, “Do you like it, my treasure?” you waved him off like he’d just shown you a half-eaten sandwich.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Looks fine.”

Silence.

Not just any silence. The kind of silence where the air pressure changes and you suddenly realize you might’ve done something very, very bad.

You blinked, finally looking over at Malleus, and oh no. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pursed, and a shadow seemed to fall over him—literally. The sky darkened as if the heavens were in on his mood. His grip on the teapot tightened, and you could swear the wind started to howl.

Oh, no no no.

The moment you realized your mistake, the storm was already brewing. Quite literally. The sky went from clear to “about to smite someone” in about two seconds flat. You could feel the temperature drop, and leaves started swirling around like they were auditioning for a role in a natural disaster movie.

You were in for it now.

Meanwhile, at the world’s most cursed tea party:

Riddle was just getting ready to pour the first cup of tea when the wind decided to yeet the tablecloth right off the table. Teacups clattered, pastries took flight, and the entire garden descended into chaos.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN’S LAWS—” Riddle screamed, clutching a teapot like it was his last lifeline.

Ace, currently dodging a rogue scone, looked over at the sky. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Is this a Malleus thing?”

Deuce, who was using a sugar bowl as a makeshift helmet, shouted over the wind. “It’s always a Malleus thing! Why do I even ask anymore?!”

Cater, hair blown sideways and desperately trying to keep his phone in hand, was trying to snap a selfie in the chaos. “Guys, this is prime MagiCam content—wait, no, my phone’s gone!” He dove after it as it got carried away in the wind.

Riddle, already on the verge of a meltdown, turned to Trey, who was trying to shield a cake from the incoming storm. “I demand an explanation!”

Trey, forever the calm one, glanced up. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say the prefect did something to upset Malleus.”

“OF COURSE, THEY DID,” Riddle shrieked, practically levitating with fury. “Why do we suffer every time they breathe near him?!”

“I don’t know, but we need to fix it before Riddle explodes!” Ace said, dodging a flying plate.

Deuce grabbed Ace’s arm. “We need to talk to them! Make them apologize or something!”

And so, in the middle of the flying teapots and pastries of doom, the group sprinted to find you, dodging airborne desserts and Riddle’s wrath.

Back at the epicenter of destruction:

You were still sitting there, eyes wide as you watched Malleus literally brood so hard it summoned a small hurricane. “Uh, Malleus…?”

He didn’t respond. Nope, he was fully in Pouty Dragon Mode™. The sky darkened even more, the wind howling, the trees bending, and you could faintly hear the sound of Ace, Deuce, and the others screaming in the distance.

Your casual dismissal of the teapot had, quite literally, ruined lives.

Before you could say anything else, the chaos squad came barreling toward you like a human avalanche, looking like they’d been through a war zone.

Ace was covered in frosting, Deuce had bits of shattered china stuck in his hair, and Trey was holding onto what looked like the remnants of a cake stand. Cater was still trying to get a selfie in, even though he looked like he’d been through a tornado.

“FIX. THIS.” Ace wheezed, dropping to his knees dramatically. “BEFORE WE ALL DIE.”

“Riddle’s about to combust,” Deuce added, his eyes wide. “Please. We’re begging you.”

Trey just gave you a calm look. “If you don’t make this right soon, I don’t know if we’ll make it to the end of the day.”

You sighed, realizing there was no escape. You’d have to face the storm—literally—and make things right.

Turning back to Malleus, you slid off the bench and stood in front of him, gently tugging on his sleeve. “Malleus?”

His eyes, still stormy, met yours, but he didn’t say anything. The wind continued to howl, the sky still dark.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your voice soft and apologetic. “I didn’t mean to dismiss your teapot. It’s beautiful, really. I was just…distracted.”

Malleus’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the wind died down just a little. Progress.

“I’d never intentionally dismiss something that’s important to you,” you continued, taking his hand in yours. “Please forgive me? I’ll pay more attention next time, I promise.”

The storm finally started to calm as Malleus’s expression softened. The sky cleared up, and the wind turned into a gentle breeze.

He sighed dramatically, though it was more theatrical than anything. “Very well, my treasure. I suppose I can forgive you this time. But you owe me proper attention.”

Relieved, you grinned and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “How about I give you all the attention you want right now?”

That did it. The storm completely vanished, and Malleus’s mood visibly brightened. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a possessive, yet affectionate embrace. “I suppose that’s acceptable,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head.

Behind you, the chaos squad groaned.

“Oh, sure,” Ace said, rolling his eyes. “One cute kiss, and suddenly the hurricane stops. What even is our life?”

“Let’s just never bring up teapots again,” Deuce muttered, shaking bits of pastry out of his hair.

Cater, who had finally managed to get a decent selfie, grinned. “Well, at least we survived!”

You chuckled as Malleus nuzzled into your hair, clearly pleased with your apology. At least for now, disaster had been averted. But something told you that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d have to apologize for accidentally setting off your dragon boyfriend.

But hey, at least you had kisses to fix everything, right?

Instance 2: The compliment conundrum

It started as one of those innocent slip-ups—the kind that makes you wonder why you even opened your mouth in the first place. You were lounging by the side of the spelldrive field, watching NRC’s teams practice. Malleus, busy handling his own royal duties, hadn’t been able to make it to practice today, so you’d spent the afternoon watching Leona and his squad dominate the field.

It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong. You were just… appreciating talent, right? And Leona was talented. You couldn’t help but admire the way he effortlessly dodged tackles, sending spells whizzing through the air with precision. The guy was annoying, sure, but he had undeniable skill.

So when you casually mentioned to Jack and Ruggie, “Man, Leona’s got some impressive moves,” you thought nothing of it.

Until you felt the ground crack beneath you.

You froze mid-sentence, glancing around as a creeping, eerie silence settled over the field. The other players stopped in their tracks, confusion spreading across their faces. The once lush, green training grounds were slowly transforming before your very eyes—the grass yellowing, the soil drying, the sky dimming. It was like nature had collectively decided, Nope, we’re out.

Jack blinked at the ground, then at you, his eyes wide with dawning horror. “Did… Did you just—?”

Ruggie, a master of putting two and two together, slapped his hand to his face. “Oh, no. Not again.”

Before you could even ask what was happening, you heard the faintest sound of rumbling in the distance, like some ancient, angry being had woken up from its nap. And that’s when the full weight of your mistake hit you.

You’d praised Leona. And Malleus, who was more possessive than a dragon guarding his hoard, definitely heard you.

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, already starting to backpedal. “Oh, crap, crap, crap—”

The drought spread faster, draining every last drop of moisture from the air. The once-pristine spelldrive field now looked like a scene out of some post-apocalyptic desert movie. Cracks snaked across the ground, the once-refreshing breeze now felt like it was straight out of the Sahara, and the remaining players started wheezing from the dry heat.

Leona, of course, was the first to piece things together. He sauntered over, glancing at the parched earth beneath his feet, then back up at you with a deadly glare.

You tried to stammer out an excuse, but Ruggie was already grabbing your arm and yanking you toward the nearest path off the field. Jack, looking somewhere between worried and resigned, trailed after you.

“Listen,” Ruggie said in a panic, “we gotta fix this now, or the whole school’s gonna turn into a wasteland.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you protested as they half-dragged you across the desertified landscape. “It was just a compliment!”

“You can’t just compliment Leona when you’re dating Malleus!” Jack huffed, sweat dripping from his forehead as the oppressive heat intensified. “You should know better by now!”

You felt a bead of sweat trickle down your temple as you tried to keep up with their frantic pace. “I didn’t know he was that possessive!”

“Oh, he is,” Ruggie muttered, glancing nervously at the sky. “And he’s sulking. You know what that means.”

You groaned. Yes, you did know what that meant. A sulking Malleus equaled world-ending storms, natural disasters, and in this case—apocalyptic droughts.

Leona, who had followed you guys, clearly had enough of this nonsense. He stomped up behind you, glaring daggers. “You’ve ruined my field,” he growled, voice dripping with irritation. “Do me a favor and never say anything nice about me again.”

“Don’t worry, Leona,” you sighed, exasperated. “I’ll only insult you from now on. Promise.”

“Good,” Leona grumbled, adjusting his collar. “Now fix your dragon before I lose my mind.”

By the time you reached Malleus, the situation had reached catastrophic levels. The entire island felt like it was one sunny day away from turning into a desert. The sky was an angry, cloudless blue, and even the birds had fled, probably deciding they didn’t want to risk spontaneous combustion.

And there, in the middle of the courtyard, sat your dragon boyfriend, arms crossed, looking as grumpy as you’d ever seen him. His aura was practically radiating misery.

“Malleus,” you called out, panting from the trek across the sun-baked campus.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge your presence, but didn’t say a word. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed, and you could practically see the pout written all over his face.

Ruggie gave you a light shove. “Well, go on. Apologize before we all die of thirst.”

You shot him a look, but he wasn’t wrong. Sighing, you stepped closer to Malleus and knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey… I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He huffed, his gaze fixed stubbornly ahead. “You praised another.”

“I didn’t realize it was such a big deal,” you said softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it. I only have eyes for you, you know that.”

Malleus remained silent for a moment, but you could feel his mood softening. The tension in the air eased ever so slightly, the heat less intense, the grass no longer crumbling beneath your feet.

“I don’t like sharing your admiration,” he murmured, still not quite looking at you. “Especially with him.”

“Leona’s not a threat,” you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “He’s too busy napping to notice, anyway.”

That earned a tiny smirk from Malleus, though he was clearly still in sulk mode. You couldn’t help but smile as you nuzzled into his neck, placing little butterfly kisses along his jawline. “Come on… I’ll make it up to you. I’ll praise you for hours if you want. No one is more worthy of my compliments than you.”

That finally did the trick. His stiff posture relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh. “Very well,” he murmured, turning his head to look at you. “I suppose I can forgive you… this time.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his chest. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Malleus, now fully basking in your affection, wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on top of your head. The sky finally returned to normal, the air cooling down, and the earth itself seemed to let out a relieved sigh.

Meanwhile, back on the now-saved-from-death spelldrive field, Leona collapsed onto the cracked ground with an annoyed grunt. “I swear, if they ever break up, I’m moving to a different continent.”

“Honestly, same,” Ruggie groaned, lying down beside him. Jack just nodded in agreement, too tired to even complain.

But as the world finally returned to normal, and you cuddled up against your not-so-grumpy-anymore dragon boyfriend, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you’d be more careful with your compliments from now on.

…Maybe.

Instance 3: Dinner Downpour

It had started out as an innocent evening. Just you, Malleus, and a nice dinner at the Mostro Lounge. You figured it was a good idea—a cozy meal, some quiet time away from the usual chaos. Plus, Malleus had never been to the Lounge before, and you wanted to show him a little piece of what passed for fine dining at NRC.

Everything was going smoothly. The candlelight cast a soft glow over the table, and Malleus seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he occasionally side-eyed the giant aquariums and questionable dishes swimming in ink. You were halfway through your meal when it happened. The moment that would soon be known as The Great Mostro Lounge Flood of the Century.

Malleus, eyes warm and his tone utterly princely, leaned toward you as the waiter left the bill on the table. “Allow me to cover this,” he said, reaching for his wallet—or whatever it was that dragons carry their horde in. “I would like to treat you.”

You, not sensing the danger, waved him off with a smile. “No need, Malleus. I’ve got this.”

Oh no.

If you could rewind time, maybe you would’ve noticed the way his expression faltered ever so slightly. The tiniest furrow of his brow, the faint tightening of his grip on his silverware. But you didn’t. You were oblivious. You, poor unfortunate soul, paid the bill yourself.

And that’s when the first clap of thunder rolled through the building.

It didn’t take long for things to go from zero to we’re-all-gonna-die levels of chaos. The sky outside darkened almost instantly, rain pouring down like the heavens had just decided to empty all their buckets at once. But it wasn’t just rain—oh no, this was a full-blown, hurricane-tier downpour. Lightning flashed, illuminating the shocked faces of the Mostro Lounge patrons as water started seeping in through the windows.

Inside, chaos erupted. The once-elegant ambiance of the Mostro Lounge turned into something out of a disaster movie. Jade was frantically trying to keep the dining area dry with what looked like twenty towels, but the water just kept rising. Floyd was sitting on top of a table, cackling at the sheer absurdity of it all, while Azul was on the verge of a mental breakdown, clutching his ledger to his chest as if it could somehow save him from bankruptcy.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Azul’s voice broke through the chaos as he practically teleported to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you like a maraca.

“I—I don’t know!” you stammered, still processing the fact that the place was flooding. “We were just having dinner!”

“Oh, you were ‘just having dinner,’” Azul mocked, his voice climbing an octave as the water level rose past your ankles. “Sure, just dinner—and now I’m watching my profits swim away!”

Jade appeared next, a suspiciously calm smile on his face despite the absolute catastrophe around him. “You didn’t happen to upset the prince of Briar Valley, did you?”

Floyd leaned in, grinning like a maniac. “Yeah, did ya snub him or somethin’? This is hilarious.”

Your face paled. Oh no. You replayed the scene in your head—the offer to pay, your refusal—and realization hit you like one of the lightning bolts currently striking outside. “Oh my god. He’s upset because I didn’t let him pay.”

“That’s it?!” Floyd burst out laughing, clutching his sides. “All this ‘cause you didn’t let him foot the bill? Man, that’s rich!”

Azul’s eye twitched. “Fix. This. Now.”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!” you protested, feeling the water slosh against your calves as the storm outside intensified. “I just wanted to treat him for once!”

“Clearly, that was a mistake,” Jade said, entirely too serene for someone standing in knee-deep water. “I suggest you… rectify it.”

“Rectify it,” Azul echoed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Or I swear I’ll have you and your little dragon both in debt until you’re ancient fossils.”

Floyd, still howling with laughter, gave you a light shove toward the entrance. “Better hurry, Shrimpy, before we gotta start charging people for canoe rentals!”

You rushed outside, braving the storm as the winds whipped around you. The ground was already flooded, rain pelting down so hard you could barely see two feet in front of you. But there, standing in the middle of it all like some tragic figure from a gothic romance novel, was Malleus.

He wasn’t even trying to shield himself from the rain—he just stood there, soaked, staring up at the stormy sky as if summoning the wrath of the heavens. His mood was palpable, the air around him crackling with discontent.

“Malleus!” you called out, running over and nearly slipping in a puddle. “Malleus, wait!”

He glanced down at you, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes quickly masked by his usual regal composure. “I thought… I could treat you. It seems you do not trust me to do even that.”

You winced. He wasn’t angry, not really. He was hurt. You should’ve known better—Malleus was always thinking about how to show you he cared, and this was just one more way for him to do that. And you’d brushed him off without realizing the significance.

“Hey, that’s not it at all,” you said softly, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “I just… I wanted to treat you this time. But I didn’t realize how important it was to you.”

The storm rumbled ominously overhead, but you could feel his mood starting to shift.

You squeezed his hands, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry, Malleus. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t appreciate it. You always take such good care of me.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension easing from his posture. “I simply wished to show you how much I treasure our time together.”

“And I treasure you,” you said, giving him a gentle smile. “So how about this—I’ll let you treat me next time. Dinner, ice cream, whatever you want. You’re in charge.”

The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “You promise?”

“I promise,” you replied, kissing him again for good measure. “But for now, maybe we could, uh… ease up on the weather a bit? I think Azul’s about to have a heart attack.”

Malleus chuckled softly, the storm clouds above beginning to break apart as the rain slowed to a drizzle. “Very well. I shall spare them—for now.”

Back inside the Lounge, Azul was clinging to his precious ledger like a lifeline, watching with wide eyes as the floodwaters slowly receded. The place was still a soaked mess, but at least it wasn’t Atlantis anymore.

Floyd, leaning against the bar, gave you a lazy grin as you walked back in, hand-in-hand with Malleus. “Well, looks like you managed to cool down your dragon, huh? Good job, Shrimpy.”

Jade smiled pleasantly, though you could tell there was relief in his gaze. “The Lounge owes you a great debt.”

Azul, drenched and looking like he’d aged ten years, just sighed. “Please. Next time… just let him pay.”

You grinned sheepishly. “Noted.”

Malleus, still holding your hand, glanced down at you with a fond expression. “Shall we continue our evening?”

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his affection, even if he had almost accidentally drowned the entire restaurant. “Yeah, let’s go.”

And as you left the Mostro Lounge, water still dripping from the ceiling and Floyd’s laughter echoing behind you, you couldn’t help but think that for all the chaos that came with dating the prince of Briar Valley, it was worth every second.

Instance 4: Deserted Dreams

It all started with an innocent suggestion over breakfast. You and Malleus were sitting at your usual spot in Diasomnia, peacefully munching on breakfast. Things were nice, calm—Malleus was in a good mood, the sun was shining, and there hadn’t been any catastrophic magical incidents for a solid two days.

But, of course, you just had to ruin it.

"So," you said, casually buttering a slice of toast, "I was thinking… maybe for our next vacation, instead of going to Briar Valley again, we could head over to the Scalding Sands? I heard Kalim raving about the heat and all the festivals, and I thought it might be fun to experience a little warmth for a change."

Malleus, who had been sipping his tea, froze. He looked at you, his eyes wide and a bit too intense. "The Scalding Sands?" he repeated slowly.

"Yeah, you know—sun, sand, maybe a beach or two. Something different!" You smiled, clearly not reading the massive red flags flying in the air. "I mean, don’t get me wrong, Briar Valley is great and all, but we always go there. I thought a change of scenery would be nice!"

And that, was when the Dorms of Scarabia and Diasomnia turned into a hellish desert wasteland.

It started slowly—just a bit of extra heat creeping into the room, making you fidget in your seat. Then it escalated. The temperature spiked dramatically, and before you knew it, the dorm felt like someone had thrown open the gates to the underworld and invited the sun to personally burn it all down. You swore you could hear the sound of sand shifting beneath your feet, though you were still indoors. Indoors, for crying out loud!

Malleus sat in silence, clearly displeased. His usual dark, moody aura was now tinged with the kind of slow-boiling frustration that made you realize: you’d made a huge mistake.

Just as you were about to apologize and backpedal your way out of the desertification of Diasomnia and Scarabia, a loud crash echoed from outside, followed by a chorus of complaints.

You stepped out of the dorm and were met with chaos. The whole area around Diasomnia had transformed into an arid, sweltering desert. The grass? Gone. The trees? Withered. The nice, cool breeze that used to blow through? Now replaced by blistering heat waves. Students were dragging themselves around, sweating profusely as the once lush grounds became a scorching wasteland.

At the heart of the chaos stood Kalim, as cheerful as ever, while a very sweaty and very done Jamil stood nearby, looking like he had reached the end of his rope.

Jamil spotted you immediately and marched over, steam practically rising off his skin. “What did you do?!” he hissed, looking like he was five seconds away from spontaneous combustion.

"I—" you stammered, glancing at Kalim, who was happily waving a fan like he was at a resort.

"Isn’t this great?!" Kalim chirped, smiling ear to ear. "It feels just like home! Now we can have all the desert parties we want! Thanks for the heatwave!"

You blinked. "Um… you’re welcome?"

"No," Jamil interjected, glaring at you like you’d personally set him on fire. “Don’t thank them! What possessed you to turn Scarabia into a furnace?!”

You grimaced, wiping sweat from your brow. “It’s not my fault! I just suggested we vacation in the Scalding Sands instead of Briar Valley and—"

"You did what?!" Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. "So because you didn’t want to vacation in Briar Valley, this happens? Do you know how long it’s going to take to get the dorm back to normal? Or the fact that I’m now stuck babysitting Kalim in what feels like the surface of the sun?"

Kalim, still oblivious to the suffering around him, beamed. “You should make up with Malleus! Then maybe we can have two vacations!”

Jamil’s eye twitched.

It didn’t take long before you were escorted (dragged) back to Malleus, courtesy of a very sunburned Jamil and a still-chipper Kalim. They deposited you at the door to Diasomnia, giving you the kind of look that screamed fix this, or we’ll make you regret it.

Sighing, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. Unsurprisingly, it was even hotter indoors than it had been outside. Malleus was sitting in the corner of the common room, his arms crossed and his gaze distant, like he was contemplating the deep mysteries of life—or brooding over your vacation suggestion. Probably the latter.

“Malleus?” you called softly, approaching him carefully as the air around him practically sizzled with residual magic.

He didn’t respond, still looking like a dragon that had just been told his gold stash was getting replaced with copper coins.

You sighed and knelt down in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you said, resting a hand on his knee. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just thought it’d be nice to see a new place, but if you want to go back to Briar Valley, that’s totally fine. We can go wherever you want.”

Malleus blinked, finally looking down at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You wished to travel somewhere unfamiliar,” he murmured, his voice low. “I should have taken your desires into account. But… the thought of you preferring another land over mine… it unsettled me.”

You blinked. “Wait, is that what this is about? Malleus, I love Briar Valley! I just wanted to try something new, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to go back. We could go anywhere, and I’d be happy as long as I’m with you.”

He softened even more, the heat in the room fading as his magic began to relax. “You mean that?”

You smiled and leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Of course I do.”

His arms, once tense, reached out to pull you into his lap, holding you close as if the idea of you slipping away to some other land without him had weighed far too heavily on his mind. You snuggled into him, feeling the last traces of heatwave melt away into nothing but warmth and comfort.

Malleus nuzzled his face into your hair, his voice a soft rumble. “Then we shall go wherever your heart desires. As long as we are together.”

You chuckled, pressing another kiss to his jaw. “Okay, deal. But, uh, maybe we avoid any more heatwave-related disasters? Jamil might actually combust next time.”

Malleus chuckled softly, his mood lightening as he held you close. “Very well. I shall spare them from further torment… this time.”

And as you cuddled into him, the remnants of the desert wasteland outside slowly returning to normal, you couldn’t help but think that as long as you had Malleus (and could keep him happy), the world—weather catastrophes included—would be just fine.

Instance 5: Fashion Fiasco

You and Malleus were at one of Vil’s fashion shows, sitting in the audience with everyone else as Vil strutted his stuff on the runway, looking absolutely flawless as per usual. The lights sparkled, the music boomed, and Vil practically radiated beauty and grace in an outfit that could only be described as something plucked straight from a dream.

"Wow," you breathed, eyes wide as you watched Vil pose dramatically at the end of the runway. "Vil really does look amazing, doesn’t he? Like, how is anyone supposed to compete with that level of perfection?"

Malleus, sitting beside you, went absolutely still.

It didn’t register right away. You were too busy marveling at Vil’s next ensemble to notice Malleus stiffening beside you, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. But as the next model waltzed down the runway, you felt a sudden chill in the air. Literally.

You blinked. Was it just you, or was it… colder? You glanced up at the ceiling, frowning as tiny snowflakes started to drift down from nowhere. The air grew icy, your breath visible as the temperature plummeted in mere seconds.

"What the—" You stood up, just in time to see the entire fashion show being transformed into a literal winter wonderland. Snow was now falling heavily, frosting over the runway, the lights, and, most importantly, Vil’s perfect hair.

The shriek that followed was one of pure, unbridled horror.

“No! My HAIR!” Vil screeched, desperately clutching his head as snowflakes clung to his golden locks, which were slowly wilting under the weight of the ice. “This is a disaster!”

Models fled the scene, their designer clothes dragging through snowdrifts that were rapidly accumulating on stage. The music cut off, the audience panicked, and Vil looked like he was about five seconds away from declaring the end of the world.

Amidst the chaos, Rook Hunt stood in the middle of the snowy storm, spinning in circles with glee. “Magnifique!” he cried, twirling with open arms as if he were auditioning for a Broadway production of Frozen. “The raw beauty of nature meets the elegance of fashion—oh, how the world has blessed us with this miracle of frost!”

“ROOK!” Vil screeched again, eyes wide and wild as he tried—and failed—to maintain some sense of composure. “This is NOT a miracle! This is a CATASTROPHE! My show—my hair!”

Epel, looking somewhere between terrified and confused, rushed up to you, nearly slipping on the snow-covered floor in his haste. “We need your help!” he gasped, grabbing your arm and shaking it with the desperation of someone who knew what was at stake here. “You have to do something! Malleus is causing the storm!”

You blinked, still processing the fact that this wasn’t just some freak weather event but a full-on emotional meltdown from your very moody fae boyfriend.

“Malleus is… mad?” you asked, finally connecting the dots.

“Of course he’s mad!” Epel huffed, snowflakes clinging to his own purple hair. “You complimented Vil! Now he thinks you like Vil more than him! We’re all gonna freeze to death if you don’t fix it!”

“Oh… oh no.”

It took a few minutes (and a shove from a panicked Vil) to find Malleus, who had retreated to the far corner of the room, looking like a grumpy snow dragon with his arms crossed and snowflakes swirling around him. His expression was dark, brooding, and way too dramatic for someone who was causing a blizzard in the middle of a fashion show.

You approached cautiously, trying not to slip on the ice that was now coating the floor. “Malleus?” you called softly, inching closer. “Are you… okay?”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I see you were quite taken with Vil’s appearance today.”

You blinked, a bit thrown off by the sheer seriousness in his tone. “Uh, I mean… yeah, Vil’s always beautiful. But, um, you know that’s just how he is. It’s his whole thing.”

Malleus’s frown deepened. “So you find him more beautiful than me.”

Oh. Oh.

You nearly facepalmed at the realization. “Malleus, no, that’s not what I meant!” you rushed to say, waving your hands in a flustered manner. “Vil is beautiful, but you—you’re, like, otherworldly! You know, fae beauty and all that. No one could possibly compare!”

Malleus eyed you warily, his lips pursed. “So… you do not prefer him over me?"

“Of course not!” you said quickly, stepping closer to place a hand on his arm. “You’re the most beautiful person I know. No one comes close to your level of magnificence, I swear.”

There was a long, heavy pause. Then, ever so slowly, the storm began to die down. The snowflakes stopped falling, the icy chill in the air dissipated, and the temperature returned to normal. Malleus’s expression softened, his moody sulk fading as he looked down at you with a much gentler gaze.

“Is that truly how you feel?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

You smiled up at him, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Of course, Malleus. You’re my favorite, always.”

Malleus visibly brightened at that, his usual regal aura returning as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a warm embrace. “Very well, then. I shall forgive this transgression. But only because you have reassured me of your affections.”

You giggled, snuggling into his chest. “I’ll make sure to tell you more often how beautiful you are.”

Vil then walks directly up to you and stares you down. "If you're done wrecking my show, could ypu please keep your dragon in check?"

All you can do is grin sheepishly at him.

Instance 6: Gaming Shenanigans

It all started because of that one last raid. You and Idia were deep in an epic gaming marathon, tackling a boss so difficult that even Idia—self-proclaimed gaming god—had to break out his limited-edition controller. It was all good fun, hours flying by without you even noticing, as you spammed attacks and worked together like the perfect gaming duo you were.

That is, until Idia hit you with a question that made your stomach drop.

"So, uh, aren't you supposed to, like... do something tonight?" Idia asked, mid-battle. His voice was a little too casual, almost like he already knew the answer but was waiting for you to figure it out yourself.

You froze for a split second, still pressing buttons but no longer fully paying attention. Something... tonight? What could he—

Oh no.

You had plans tonight. With Malleus.

Specifically, your nightly walks around campus, which had become somewhat of a ritual. Every night, you’d stroll through the darkened grounds, hand-in-hand, talking about anything and everything. It was Malleus’s favorite part of the day—something he eagerly looked forward to.

And you’d… forgotten.

Your eyes darted to your phone, which was lying face down on the desk, completely ignored for the last several hours. You didn’t even need to check it to know what you’d find: missed calls, unread messages, probably a voicemail or two from Malleus, wondering where you were.

"Oh no," you whispered, voice barely audible over the sounds of explosions and battle cries on screen.

"Wait, what?" Idia’s character paused for a second as he glanced at you. "Did you just say 'oh no'? What 'oh no'? Are we talking minor 'oh no' or, like, 'I've-angered-a-final-boss-oh-no'?"

You gulped, heart sinking as you realized just how much trouble you were in. "Um... the second one. Definitely the second one."

Before Idia could even react, the room went dark. The power cut out so fast, you barely had time to process it. The glow of the screens, the hum of electronics—all gone, leaving only the soft pitter-patter of rain against the window.

Idia's horrified gasp echoed through the sudden silence.

"No. No, no, no, no, no—this can’t be happening! We were in the middle of a raid!” His hands flew to his hair, the blue flames flickering wildly as panic set in. "Dude, you forgot your dragon?!"

The color drained from your face as the gravity of the situation fully hit. “I—um—got distracted?”

Idia’s eyes widened, and he stood up so fast his chair rolled backwards. "Distracted?! You forgot about your nightly walks with the dragon fae, and now we’re sitting in a power outage caused by his emotional spiral?!”

In the faint glow of Idia’s flame-lit hair, you saw Ortho zip into the room, looking far too calm given the circumstances. “I detected a sudden shift in weather patterns around campus. It seems like the storm has caused a widespread blackout. Should I assume it’s related to Malleus Draconia’s emotional state?”

"YES!" Idia practically screeched, pointing at you in betrayal. "They ditched Malleus for gaming, and now we’re all suffering the consequences! Ortho, tell them to fix it, please! I beg you!”

Ortho turned to you with his usual chipper smile. “I suggest you go to Malleus and make amends before the entire campus loses power. I’ve already calculated a 98% chance that further emotional distress will result in structural damage to the dorm.”

Idia groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is why you never piss off boss-level boyfriends. It’s just common sense.”

So, that’s how you found yourself trudging through the stormy night, rain soaking your clothes as you made your way to find Malleus. The lightning flashed overhead, thunder rumbling ominously as you approached the usual meeting spot for your nightly walks.

And there he was—standing alone, looking very much like the picture of heartbreak. His tall figure was framed by the pouring rain, his expression a perfect blend of hurt and brooding. The storm seemed to swirl around him, almost as if it were a physical manifestation of his emotions.

“Malleus,” you called out, rushing toward him, your voice barely audible over the sound of rain. “I’m so sorry!”

He turned slowly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “You did not answer my calls.”

“I know, I know! I got caught up in a game with Idia, and I didn’t check my phone, and—well, now we have a blackout.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly, his gaze softening just a fraction. “You left me waiting, and the storm came.”

You winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to forget about our walk. I love spending time with you—I swear.”

Malleus let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “I do not wish to be a burden to you.”

“Burden?” you echoed, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, the rain pouring down between you. “Malleus, you’re not a burden. I love our walks. I love spending time with you. I just… lost track of time. That’s all.”

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound being the rain hitting the ground. Then, to your surprise, Malleus looked away, a faint hint of vulnerability in his expression. “Do you… truly mean that?”

Without thinking, you reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands. “Of course I do. There’s no one I’d rather be with.”

Malleus’s gaze softened further, and slowly—so slowly—the storm began to quiet. The rain lessened, the wind died down, and the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over the campus lifted. He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face as if looking for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he finally let out a soft chuckle, the corners of his mouth turning up in a faint smile.

“You always manage to calm me,” he murmured, leaning into your touch.

You smiled back, feeling warmth spread through your chest despite the cold rain. “I guess I’m just good at soothing dragons.”

Malleus raised a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

The rain had stopped entirely by now, leaving only a light mist in the air. You let out a relieved sigh, brushing some stray raindrops off Malleus’s cheek before standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I’ll never forget our walks again,” you whispered against his lips, earning a quiet hum of approval from him.

“I shall hold you to that,” he replied, his voice warm with affection. “Now, shall we take that walk?”

You nodded, intertwining your fingers with his. The world felt calmer now, the storm gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight breaking through the clouds. Malleus’s mood had lifted entirely, and as the two of you strolled through the now-quiet campus, you couldn’t help but feel content.

And, of course, Idia and Ortho’s screens flickered back to life, much to their relief.

Instance 7: Dessert Disaster

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you were about to partake in a picnic with none other than Malleus, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek. Everything was perfect. The blanket was laid out beneath a sprawling tree, food arranged carefully across it—courtesy of Malleus himself, who had spent hours in the kitchen the night before, preparing what he considered to be the pièce de résistance: a pie.

Not just any pie. No, this was a Malleus Draconia-crafted masterpiece. The filling was made from rare berries he’d harvested himself, the crust baked to a perfect golden brown. You could practically smell the love (and maybe a little lightning) that had gone into it.

Malleus, with a glint of pride in his eyes, carefully handed you a slice. "I hope it meets your expectations, my love."

You eagerly took a bite, eyes widening as the flavors exploded on your tongue. It was amazing. No, better than amazing—it was downright phenomenal. How did he even manage to bake something this good? A prince of darkness and a master chef? This was unfair.

"This slaps," you declared, totally unaware of the impending doom those words were about to unleash.

The moment the words left your mouth, you noticed a visible shift in Malleus’s expression. The proud smile he’d worn just seconds ago faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion. His green eyes darkened, clouds suddenly appearing overhead. You could feel the electricity in the air as the temperature dropped.

"I see," Malleus murmured, voice tight. "So… you dislike it."

Wait. What?

You blinked, realization dawning far too slowly. Oh no.

Before you could correct him, Malleus was already raising his hand, a faint crackle of magic sparking between his fingers. You could practically hear the thunder rumbling in the distance as he stared down at the pie slice in your hand, preparing to smite the poor, innocent pastry.

"No, no, no, no—wait!" You waved your arms frantically, standing up so fast you nearly tripped over the picnic blanket.

Sebek, meanwhile, had already leapt to his feet, eyes blazing with righteous fury. "How dare you insult Master Malleus’s baking?!" he shouted, fists clenched. "His skill is unmatched, and yet you have the audacity to call his creation—"

"Sebek." Silver’s voice, calm but firm, interrupted the impending tirade. He was still sitting, but his eyes were half-open now, watching the situation unfold with mild concern. "They didn’t mean it that way."

Lilia, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He was absolutely delighted by the chaos unfolding, his laughter ringing out across the clearing. "Oh, this is too good!" he cackled, practically rolling on the blanket. "I haven’t seen this much excitement at a picnic in centuries! You modern humans and your strange expressions never fail to entertain!"

You shot him a look that screamed, Please stop encouraging this.

Silver, bless his soul, finally spoke up again, this time turning his attention to you. "You might want to explain before the weather gets worse." He nodded toward the now very ominous-looking clouds gathering above Malleus.

Right. Explaining. You could do that.

You turned back to Malleus, who still looked like he was contemplating whether to zap the pie or not. You could tell his feelings were hurt—his brow was furrowed, his lips set in a tight line. And the thought of him feeling like that, all because of a misunderstanding, made your heart clench.

"Malleus," you said, stepping closer and reaching for his hand. "When I said ‘this slaps,’ I meant it’s really good. Like, insanely good. Amazing. Best pie I’ve ever had."

Malleus’s stormy expression faltered slightly, though the dark clouds remained. "But you said it ‘slaps.’"

"That’s modern slang," you explained, gently squeezing his hand. "It’s a compliment. I promise."

Malleus blinked, the magic at his fingertips dissipating as he processed your words. "So… you enjoyed it?"

"Absolutely. You knocked it out of the park with this pie." You gave him your most reassuring smile. "I could eat the whole thing."

The storm clouds began to thin, sunlight peeking through once more. Malleus tilted his head, considering this new information, and slowly—very slowly—a smile returned to his face.

"It pleases me to hear that," he said, his voice softening.

Meanwhile, Sebek was still standing there, sputtering indignantly. "W-Well, if that’s what they meant, then… of course Master Malleus’s pie is the best! I knew that all along!"

Lilia, still chuckling, waved a dismissive hand at Sebek. "Oh, calm down, boy. No harm done. Besides, now we know modern slang! What other fascinating phrases do you have, I wonder?"

Silver sighed, finally sitting up properly. "Maybe let’s avoid any more slang for today."

With the situation calming down, you took the opportunity to lean in closer to Malleus, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek. "I’m really sorry for the confusion," you murmured. "You’re an amazing baker, and your pie is delicious. I meant that, okay?"

Malleus’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly at the affection, and he gave a small nod. "I believe you."

Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you pressed another kiss to his lips, slow and tender, savoring the warmth of his skin and the way his hand gently squeezed yours in return. The last of the clouds above you finally cleared, leaving the sky blue and bright once more. The storm was over, and everything was at peace again.

"Shall we enjoy the rest of our picnic, then?" Malleus asked, his voice much lighter now.

You nodded enthusiastically, sitting back down beside him. "Absolutely. And just so we’re clear—your food? Total banger."

Malleus raised a brow, clearly still unfamiliar with the term but now much more accepting of your strange modern ways. "I see. I shall take that as a compliment."

Sebek, still recovering from his earlier outrage, grumbled something under his breath, but you didn’t care. Lilia was still snickering, Silver was finally getting comfortable again, and Malleus was happy. Everything was right in the world.

And hey, now you knew—if you ever wanted to spice things up at a picnic, all it took was a little modern slang.

Instance 8: Destruction of NRC (Well, almost)

Crowley’s “magnanimous nature” was, quite frankly, killing you. Whether it was sorting mountains of paperwork, being sent on endless errands, or handling Grim’s regular chaos, you were exhausted. Every muscle in your body ached, your eyes had dark circles deeper than any pit, and you were pretty sure you were on your third day of functioning on nothing but caffeine and sheer spite.

Grim, bless his fiery little heart, watched you from his perch on your bed, tail flicking in irritation as you barely managed to drag yourself into Ramshackle after another long, thankless day.

“Ugh, henchhuman! You look like death warmed over,” Grim sniffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “How long do you plan on letting that featherbrained Crowley walk all over you?”

You groaned, flopping face-first into your pillow. “As long as it takes to survive this semester, Grim. No one else is going to deal with his nonsense. Not like I have a choice.”

Grim was silent for a moment, watching you with uncharacteristic concern. Then, in a low mumble, he said, “Well, I’ve had enough. You’re my henchhuman, and I won’t let him destroy you.”

You thought Grim was just being dramatic. But when you woke up the next morning to the sound of distant thunder rumbling ominously across the sky, you had a very, very bad feeling.

By the time you made it to NRC, the situation was in full swing. You arrived just in time to witness Crowley practically on his knees, looking like a man who had stared death in the face and lived to tell the tale—barely.

The sky above NRC was pitch black, clouds swirling and crackling with magic as the wind howled through the campus. A storm of epic proportions had descended, and it wasn’t just any storm. This was a Malleus Draconia-grade storm. The kind that didn’t just bring rain or wind—it brought devastation, and everyone was cowering indoors, peeking through windows, afraid to go outside.

Crowley spotted you immediately, rushing over with his cape flapping dramatically behind him as he stumbled, nearly slipping in the mud.

“Please,” he cried, hands clutching your shoulders as if you were his last lifeline. “Please, you must calm him down! I beg of you, prefect, do something!”

You raised a brow, half-expecting some pitiful excuse, but the Headmaster, in all his avian glory, had gone straight to the begging stage. “What did you do this time?” you sighed, knowing it had to be his fault.

“I did nothing! Absolutely nothing! Well, perhaps I’ve… been a little harsh on you, but that’s no reason for him to destroy the entire campus!” Crowley wailed, looking pitiful as a gust of wind nearly knocked him off balance.

“I’ll pay you! I’ll pay you an actual wage! I’ll give you a budget to renovate Ramshackle, and I’ll personally sponsor your vacation! Just please—stop him before there’s nothing left of Night Raven College!”

You blinked. Did… did you just get a salary offer? And a vacation? And a renovation budget? This was new.

Before you could process the sheer absurdity of the situation, Professor Crewel passed by with his coat dramatically billowing in the wind. “Honestly,” he muttered under his breath, “about time that birdbrain faced some consequences for his incompetence.”

Professor Trein, walking with his trusty feline Lucius, shook his head gravely. “At this point, the Headmaster deserves everything that’s coming to him.”

“Do you not see the storm?!” Crowley shrieked, pointing to the lightning that was now dangerously close to striking the bell tower.

Both professors exchanged a look before continuing on their way, Crewel muttering something about how this was Crowley’s mess to fix.

You couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of satisfaction seeing the Headmaster squirm. But at the same time, NRC was at risk of being blown off the map if you didn’t act soon. And judging by the way Grim was laughing maniacally in the corner, proudly declaring how he “fixed” your problems, this was going to be on you to clean up.

With a sigh, you gave Crowley a nod. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But if you go back on any of those promises—”

“I won’t!” Crowley promised, hands clasped as if in prayer. “I swear on the very foundation of this school, you will be compensated!”

You rolled your eyes but turned on your heel to head toward Diasomnia. The storm seemed to know you were coming, the wind parting just enough to allow you passage. The moment you stepped into the courtyard, the thunder seemed to quiet, though lightning still flashed ominously in the distance.

And there, standing at the center of it all, was Malleus. His expression was dark, eyes glowing faintly as he stared up at the storm he’d summoned. His hands were clasped behind his back, and even with his composed stance, you could sense the simmering frustration beneath the surface.

You approached carefully, calling out softly, “Malleus?”

His head turned slightly at the sound of your voice, though he didn’t fully look at you. “Ah, my love. I see you’ve arrived.”

You moved closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Grim told you what’s been going on, didn’t he?”

“I cannot stand to see you work yourself to exhaustion for that foolish crow,” Malleus muttered, still staring at the storm. “He takes advantage of your kindness. It is unforgivable.”

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest. He was genuinely upset—for you. But, you also couldn’t let NRC be reduced to rubble, and you needed to calm him down before it got worse.

With a soft chuckle, you stepped in front of him, gently cupping his face in your hands. “It’s okay. I appreciate how much you care about me, but you don’t have to destroy the school over this.”

Malleus’s eyes finally met yours, the storm above softening ever so slightly. “But you’re suffering.”

“I was,” you admitted, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But not anymore. Crowley’s going to make it up to me—he promised me a wage, a renovation budget for Ramshackle, and a vacation.”

That seemed to catch his attention, the storm clouds above beginning to dissipate. “A vacation?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, leaning up to brush another kiss against his cheek. “In fact, I was going to ask if you’d like to come with me.”

Malleus blinked, his earlier frustration melting into a look of surprise—and then, a small, pleased smile tugged at his lips. The storm overhead faded into nothing, the sky returning to its usual clear blue.

“I would be honored,” he said softly, pulling you closer to him. “A vacation, just the two of us. That sounds… delightful.”

You grinned, pressing a final kiss to his lips, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. “It’s a date, then.”

And just like that, the storm was over. NRC was safe, and more importantly, you had managed to calm your dragon—and score a well-deserved vacation in the process.

As for Crowley? Well, you’d make sure to enjoy every moment of watching him squirm while you cashed in those promises.

Masterlist