#but i barely have time right now so may need to do it in 15 minute chunks here and there while multitasking

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Ink Master

Player 001 x reader [SMUT]

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Note: pretend you have tattoos, sick ones, whatever your heart desires. I’m heavily tattoos and wanna give love to my tattooed and wanting to be tattooed girlies. In this, i am describing a few of the tattoos I have, yes each one has a real meaning behind it. If so desired, I can explain the meaning behind each one.

You sat down with your friends eating dinner, laughing, and talking. The day seemed to have never happened, even Gi Hun and Young il were laughing so hard they were crying. You got a sudden heat flash. You ruled out the possibility of a cold as you had immediately. You stood to take your jacket off. Pulling the sleeves down one by one revealing tattoo filled arms. Young il looked you up and down before looking away quickly. A smile crept onto his face as butterflies erupted from his stomach.

“Wow, (y/n)” Dae ho exclaimed. “Your tattoos look so cool! I love that on your arm. Oh oh, and that steers head.”

“Thank you!” You beamed looking at the artwork that covered your skin. “I’ve been getting tattooed since i was 15 I’m 24 now, so about 9 years of work” you laugh, feeling the nostalgia of the tattoos.

“Do you have more?” Young il asks politely.

“I have a lot more, my back is done, rib cage, all the way up to my collar bone” you pulled your shirt collar down slightly to reveal bats that lined your collarbone, a betta fish on the left side.

“Wow, did they hurt?” Young il asks. “I mean, obviously they hurt, but you know, which one hurt the most?” he asks hating himself for how stupid he sounded.

“The one i have above my uhh lady part.” You giggled awkwardly. “That one was not comfortable at all, and i have both nipples pierced.” You admitted.

“You heard the signal for bed time. You retreated to your bed smiling at Young il as he lays in his bed next to yours. He wanted to see all of them, maybe hear a story or two, find out what they mean. Each and every one of them, no matter how bad the story may be.

He lays awake, he turned to you as he heard you rise up from your bed.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, i just have to pee really bad.”

“Yeah, so do I, mind if we walk together?” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t be too weird.

“Yeah of course, maybe if there are two of us they’ll let us in” you smile gently, taking his hand in yours, pulling you towards the door. You knocked softly the pink guy opened the window. “I need to use the restroom, and so does he.” You moved aside so they could see Young il, he smiled bashfully. The door opened immediately, allowing the two of you to leave the room. You walked towards the ladies room before you soon felt yourself get pulled into the men’s.

“Young il? What’re you doing?”

“I know this sounds really stupid, but can i see the rest of your tattoos?” He asked. You nodded and pulled him into a stall. He gently pulled your shirt up, then your sports bra, revealing tattoos all down your sternum and stomach, right rib cage covered with sharks, left side presented numerous scriptures.

You felt Young il's hands grasping your waist, pulling you closer to him as you stood in the bathroom stall, the need to get back to the room before other noticed you were gone for too long creating a sense of urgency. His eyes were fixed on your skin, ignoring everything, roaming over the intricate tattoos that covered your body. You could sense his obsession, his fascination with the artwork that adorned your body.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "These tattoos... they're a part of you, aren't they?" His voice was laced with an unspoken question, as if he was trying to understand the story behind each design.

You nodded, feeling his fingers tracing the lines of a snake coiled around your right arm. "Each one has a story," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "A piece of me, etched into my skin forever." He turned you again, this time facing away from him. His hands roamed over the Japanese waves on your back and hips before moving lower to grip your ass cheeks firmly but gently.

Young il's lips brushed against the cherry blossom tree on your shoulder. He kissed each petal gently, reverently, as if worshiping the art itself. His hands slid down your back, following the curve of a dragon's tail that wrapped around your spine. Every touch sent shivers down your spine. He touched the angel on your right shoulder blade, following the angels hand as it reached for a skeleton that stood by the open mouth of the dragon, begging to be saved silently. He stared in awe at the scene before him.

"I want to explore every inch of you," he panted, turning you back around, his mouth moving to yours in a fierce kiss. You felt him harden against you, his desire fueled by his fixation on your tattoos.

As you broke apart for air, Young il gazed at the animal on your chest. "Tell me about this one," he asked, tracing the lions head with his finger. Before pulling your pants down to your ankles.

You smiled mischievously. "That one's for protection," you replied. "A fierce protector against those who would try to hurt me."

Young il's eyes flashed with intensity. "You don't need protection from me," he growled. "I'll never hurt you.”

His words ignited a fire within you, seemingly healing all the broken ends of you. You wrapped your arms around his his neck, drawing him closer as you as he moved to position you better on the stall door.. Young il continued to map out your tattoos with his fingers and lips.

Every touch was like a spark to dry kindling – it set you ablaze. The way he held onto them indicated how much control and trust had grown between the both of you in just moments.

As one hand still gripped, he entered slowly then harder deepening himself, stroking all areas sending moans escaping past your parted lips

"You feel so good," you gasped quietly in his ear.

"Your tattoos are driving me crazy," Young il replied hoarsely . He thrust deeper, trying feel you all over his body. He wished he could explain this feeling you were giving him. He was so clouded by lust, he was pretty sure he was in love with you.

Suddenly, as your muscles clenched wrapping tightly around him, it triggered something fierce within young il's thrust became faster pushing the both of you toward intense explosive peak which shredded apart any lingering rational thought leaving primal instinct only.

In that moment, all there existed were two people trying desperately not be left behind when the other reaches their climax first .

"Cum on me" you begged . No answer - only labored breathing intensifying into frantic almost sobbing sighs pushing desperately your shared goal, your final release.

And then youngil mouth came crashing onto the nape of your neck begging:

"Cum… cum on my cock please, let me drain you until you’re empty so you can do the same to me, please, (y/n)" he pleaded breathlessly.

His begging for your release was what made any remaining composure disintegrate, sending a shattering explosion through both of you, immense pleasure flowing through your veins as your body nearly crumbled from your orgasm.

His lingering moans and your whimpers as you both came from your highs.

“Young il, if i knew all i had to do was show you my tattoos to get you like this, id have done it way sooner.” You give a dry laugh.

“No, this was bound to happen anyways, you just gave me a reason to do it sooner.” He responded. He began to clean you up, then himself. He picked your shirt off of the floor along with your sports bra. You pulled up your pants, accepting the shirt and bra once you were upright.

“Let’s do this again sometime?” You ask.

“Oh definitely. Your pussy is to die for, literally. I’d die over it.” He said.

“I’d die for you” you counter romantically. “Sorry, i dont know wh-“

“(Y/n), if only you knew the things id do for you that are far worse than death itself.” He said before kissing you. When you got back into the room you got into your bed. Young il coming in behind you.

“Young il, what are you doing?” You ask, confused as to why he was in your bed.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t cuddle you after sex” he said pulling you into him. You smile softly, suddenly falling asleep. “good night, (y/n)” he kissed your lips softly. He was now sure he might genuinely love you, but he still wasn’t sure if lust was still clouding his sight that made him feel that way. He felt something inside him, but it was yet to be discovered. It was yet to be assessed, maybe as he slept, maybe during the next day, maybe if you were walking down the aisle to marry him, maybe when you were pregnant and birthing your children. Would they want to be tattooed like their mother? He didn’t mind that, he’d be proud of them, the same way he’s proud of you. He loved you.

[alchemiclee]

i'm planning to do my firefly cosplay pulling stream tonight. wanted to do star rail themed gartic phone for at least half an hour before pulls, but can't get at least 2 more people to join me 😭 what should I do instead, so stream isn't just 10 minutes long? should i do silly goofy doodles? try to work on my firefly art I still have barely touched? i'm not sure. I hate when my plans don't work because people suck!!!!!!!!!😭😭😭😭

[selarina]

Gojo Satoru x Reader (Reader wears a bikini and a dress)

A/N: Sorry for the unannounced month-long break. I've been swamped with uni work and writer's block but here's a little vacation au that's kinda based on a true story... 🫠

The start of this summer has been less than perfect. The over-rushed booking, the forgotten essentials, the shared accommodations — it was all a bit too much in the beginning but you’ve succumbed to the flow as the days unfolded. 

It was a 15-day vacation, and on your fifth day, you feel like you are approaching a state of feeling content. It’s hard not to. You’re currently ensconced on the most luxuriously soft daybed by the pool, your feet idly stretching ever so often as you sip from your ever-flowing glass of Aperol spritz. This is admittedly nice.

But while you’re involved in your own sweet languor, you fail to notice a certain peculiar white-haired figure approaching the bunch of you. 

Gradually tip-toeing his way, closer and closer, much to your friend’s concern. But he finally manages to catch your attention, all with a punctuating soft grunt. 

You look up, a bit startled but mostly annoyed at the interruption. You sit up, just a little, to get a better view of the man.

“Can we help you?” You ask. 

He’s pretty, and pale. You wonder if he’s carrying enough sunscreen for the trip.

“Yeah, hi!” He smiled. A sort of disarming smile.

“Hi,” you smile back, almost involuntarily.

“Uh, I lost a bet with my friends back there,” he spoke up, pointing back to a small cluster of people on the opposite side of the pool. “And I’m here to— Oh, I’m sorry. The sun must be bothering you.”

He steps forward, shielding you from the harsh heat the sun was inflicting upon your face. 

You resisted a smile, but it was tethering just about.

He seemed juvenile — this white-haired boy. He’s tall. Perhaps too tall. And he had this boyish look about him. In the way he stood, and moved his arms. In his smile. You wonder if he’s always like this, or if it’s just a persona he’s adopting for this vacation. 

You say this only because you are. You’re not often like this — lounging about in the sun, dressed in a white bikini with sunglasses resting on your head, with a glass in hand. This kind of nonchalance, this relaxation — it didn’t come easy to you. But you indulge in it because you can, even if just for a short while.

"You were saying?" you prompt, after existing in the long silence of him just standing in front of you.

“Oh,” he grins sheepishly. “Yeah. Well, they bet me to ask you out.”

“Oh,” you say, a bit disappointed. “Well, do you need help playing along or something?”

“No,” he says, his eyes widening at how that may have sounded. “No, they bet me to ask you out because I think you’re pretty. I saw you back at dinner last night as well. And then I saw you today. And I liked— I think you’re pretty. I liked your red dress last night.”

Your cheeks flare, and you can’t use the sun as an excuse— not when this boy graciously offered to shield you from it. “Oh, thank you,” you muttered.

He just smiled back, and you felt it’s strange how you feel no nerves right now. The last time a boy asked you out, you had run out on him. You had only approached him a week later to accept him, but by then he had moved on to sticking his tongue down another girl’s throat, but that’s hardly the point here.

“Well, what do you have in mind?” You asked, ignoring the gasp from your friend beside you. 

This must be too shocking for her, and you admit you’re just as shocked as her. But this is barely real life, it’s vacation — a sort of liminal freedom that comes with it. 

“Well, there’s this masquerade ball thing that’s happening a few streets away,” he suggests eagerly. “Live music and all that—”

“I don’t know if that’s within my budget,” you say, candidly.

“Well, it’s kinda free,” he replies, and your eyes rise up in suspicion. 

“Well, for me,” he continues. “My mother’s hosting the event, so…”

Ah, you think then. He’s one of those boys.

You don’t say anything for a bit. Thinking over whether you wanted to indulge and involve yourself with such a crowd. With such a boy.

He seemed a bit worried in your silence, so he spoke up. “But if that’s not up to your speed, I can—”

"No," you interjected, your decision swift and unwavering. "I like it. I’d love to join you."

At the sound of that he grins, a bit too widely in your opinion, but it has an endearing quality to it so you mirror his grin. 

“Fantastic!” He says, “I'll get the masks. And I’ll pick you up. It’s at 7. Ish.”

“I’ll meet you out by the reception then,” you confirm. 

A few seconds pass, and you watch as he still stands in front of you. “So, are you going to stand there until the sun sets or something?”

“Yep,” he nods. “I can do that. Well— No, I have a thing in an hour but I’ll ask my friend to take over. Don’t worry,” he shakes his head.

You chuckled in response. “Well, we were going to head back in in a bit anyway. So, I’m sure I can manage the sun till then.”

“You sure about that?” he grins.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you affirm with a wider grin.

“Okay. I’ll see you,” he waved. “At 7.”

[cherryswisherz]

KARMIC BALANCE ✷ PROLOGUE

✷WARNINGS cursing, smoking, throwing up

✷NIYAHSPEAKS you can for sure read this on wattpad if you hate the layout lol. my wp is @ g4peswishers

✦✦✦✦

FRESHMAN YEAR

As a 19 year old black woman going to a PWI, I can tell you two things.

1: These white boys are fucking crazy. They don't know how to take no for an answer. They don't even know how to take "I'm gay." for an answer. And then they act all butthurt when you slap the spit out their mouth for testing your gangsta.

2. The education is the same as an HBCU, but the culture, obviously is not. I'm bored of my mind. This is like highschool on downers, instead of steroids. These motherfuckers don't even have the Divine Nine, which is complete and utter insanity to me.

But here I am, black as hell, listening to Professor Micheals drone on about how trchnology is ruining the world as we know it.

What the fuck ever.

But still, regardless of whether I believe this bullshit, I need to know it to pass this class. So like a good little student, I'm taking notes, highlighting and annotating like my life depends on it.

Now you may be asking, "Xavia, if you hate this shit so much, why the fuck would you apply to a PWI?" and that's a great question. I'll answer it like this. When you grow up black at a predominantly white highschool, you don't really get the option of being anything other than the token black gay girl. Which means that you spend your years perfecting your customer service voice. You spend hours researching the perfect contour routine to conceal the width of your nose. You waste so many tears, wondering why the girls at your middle school never look at you how you look at them, or why the boys you talk to always ask dumb shit, like "Do you say the N-word?"

The short answer to your question is, I had no choice. As much as I wish I had the balls to tell my parents that I got into Howard, I didn't. So the whitewashed version will have to do it. But I'm not that insecure idiot anymore. I've learned to love my blackness. Now, I rock the bare-face look. And I would rather shit in my hands and clap, than beg someone to notice me.

I didn't even realize that I'd zoned out until I saw people getting up, bags packed, shuffling to get out of the lecture hall as quickly as possible.

 It's Friday. There's gotta be a party or something tonight, so everyone's itching to get home and throw on a crop top and shorts and get #whitegirlwasted.

 Not me, y'all stay safe though. I will be sitting pretty, in my dorm room, enjoying my loneliness while I can, knowing that Jane, my roommate, will soon return shitfaced and obnoxiously loud. Jane is one of the only other black girls here, and of course, they made her my roommate. I'm not complaining though. Since the beginning of the semester, she's become my best friend. She's the opposite of me. Loves partying and social situations.

 "Come on, Xavi! It'll be fun." Jane's currently begging me to go to this party with her, but she already knows I won't give in.

 "Jane, I couldn't think of anything I'd rather do less, than go to a frat party."

  And that was that. She was gone and I was free to do what I do best. Rot in my loneliness.

  Now in my sweats and wife beater, I grab my "make-up" bag and step out into the warm air, preparing myself for the 15 minute walk ahead by putting my airpods on max volume, and allowing Jhene Aiko to take me somewhere otherworldly.

The walk is fast, because I've done it so many times. When I reach the park, I take my usual seat on the swings and light the joint I'd rolled two days ago. As I smoke I allow my mind to wander.

     What would I be doing right now if I'd gone to Howard?

     Who would I be if my parents never went to medical school?

 These are things that flood my mind daily. And when they do, I don't get sad. I just smile at the alternate realities I've created for myself.

 I spent the rest of my session thinking about Xavi Johnson, Howard student. I spent the walk back thinking about how far I've come from who I used to be. I can't get rid of the smile that's stuck on my face.

 I hear the awful sound of gagging as soon as I step to my dorm room door. When I open the door I'm not surprised to see Jane hunched over our trash bin, gasping for breath. What I am surprised at is the tall blonde girl that's squatting down next to her, holding her hair back.

"Jane, what the fuck?" I ask.

The blonde rises and turns around at the sound of my voice and looks at me with the bluest eyes I've ever seen. "Oh shit. Uh, I'm Paige." Paige nods down towards Jane, who's position hasn't changed whatsoever. "She had too much to drink."

I laughed at this as I tossed my bag on my bed. "Yeah, no shit."

The girl in front of me has to be the most effortlessly gorgeous girl I've ever met. Her face is bare, but everything about her screams 'natural beauty.' From the perfect arch of her nose to the way her cheekbones from her heart shaped face to the tip of her cupids-bow. Her hair looks soft but I know better than to touch it. She's just fucking beautiful. And yes, it has occurred to me that I am in a relationship, and my girlfriend loves me very much so I should probably stop staring at the literal goddess in front of me and speak.

"Oh shit. Uh, I'm Paige." Then I realize she doesn't only want to know who I am, but why I'm in her dorm. "She had too much to drink." No shit sherlock.

And this girl, whoever she is, didn't ask any further questions. She just set her bag down and walked over to Jane, whose face was first in her trash can. "Yeah, no shit." She smiles lazily and the sway in her hips is addictive. "I'm Xavia. Jane's my roommate."

Xavia?! Even her fucking name is pretty.

"Xavi, I was this close to getting us league babies." Jane groans, keeping her head in the trash bin, but raising her hand to put her fingers in a pinch position. "I almost bagged her, but I-" and then she was cut off by her own vomit.

"Um, yeah. She knows my teammate... who is also shitfaced." I shook my head at the reminder that Nika threw up in our kitchen sink.

"Oh right... you're the basketball player that all straight girls love." Xavia said, helping Jane to her feet, allowing her to put her weight on her side. "Sorry it took me a minute to recognize you. You're blonder in person." She dropped her roommate onto the twin bed and rolled her to her side. "How does it feel to be the person women will tell their kids about when they talk about their college adventures as a temporary lesbian?" Now she's grabbed the trash bin and placed it by Jane's bed.

As she spoke I felt myself get severely irritated with her.

Who the fuck does this girl think she is?

"I wouldn't know. I don't fuck anyone who's not my girlfriend, and I for sure don't fuck straight girls."

The small snicker she lets out should piss me off, and it does. But it also makes me wish she never spoke again. Only laughed.

"Something funny?" I ask.

"No. I just didn't know you had a girlfriend." Now she's moving her make-up bag from her bed and walking towards the tiny cabinet that comes in all of these dorms. I silently thank God that I never had to stay in these. "I apologize for the assumption."

Apologize?

"You apologize for the assumption?" Xavia was confusing the fuck out of me. She seems like she had far too much pride to apologize to anyone, let alone a random stranger.

The look she gives me tells me she thinks I'm a moron. "Has your head hit the court a little too many times? I'm apologizing to you and you're acting like I cursed your first born."

"Nah, I know what you said, but you don't seem like the type to apologize." I raise an arm and dramatically point it at her. "You've got this whole 'don't let the evil eye fool you' look going on."

"And you got that from 5 minutes in a room with me?" She fully laughs this time. "You shouldn't let the evil eye fool you, but I'm not so full of myself that I can't apologize when I make an ass of myself."

Before I have the chance to respond and accept her apology, my phone rings.

It's Farrah.

For a second, I debate the outcome of not answering, but I don't feel like arguing when I get back to the house so I slide to answer the call.

"Hey Faye."

"Paige, where the hell are you?" Her voice is like venom to me.

"Uh, I was just dropping off Nika's friend at her dorm room. I'm on my way back."

"We need to talk when you get home, call me when you get there."

I don't want to call her when I get home. I want to sleep when I get home. But, Farrah has my location and Life360 so I can't tell her I fell asleep while waiting for my phone to charge.

"Okay Faye. I love you, bye." I don't wait for her to say it back before I hang up.

Looking over to Xavia who is now on her laptop typing furiously, I think of something to say before I leave. "Sorry about that. Girlfriend duties." Nodding to Jane who is snoring softly in the bed I tell her to keep an eye on her and I head out.

But I can't leave without talking to her again. "You should go out with her next time. You seem cool."

Her eyes leave the laptop but she doesn't turn around fully. "I hate partying and I'm not willing to throw my karmic balance off by lying to you and saying I'll think about it. I won't."

"Karmic balance?"

"Google it." Is all I get before she returns her focus to her computer. "Goodbye, Paige."

Walking out of her dorm puts a weird pit in my stomach and I silently pray that this won't be the last time we see each other.

✷TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535

@mrsarnold

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 5

[chap four] | [all chapters here] | [chap six]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | I'm very excited for this chapter because it's actually one of the scenes that inspired this whole fic! Before I knew what the hell I even wanted to write, I played this idea of a figure skating character over and over again in my head as I built up the story around it. I'm a little behind on writing the next chap, so it may be a slightly longer wait between this and the next one! Hope you all love it!

WC | 4.8k

Taglist | @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220 @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

Chapter Five

You skated at least four times a week. You’ve done so since you were ten years old, when you decided that you wanted to take figure skating more seriously. Whether or not you had competitions, whether or not you were in the mood for it, you always stuck with your skating routine. With competition season coming up in November, you knew you’d have to start practicing more, putting in longer hours and more days in preparation.

Or maybe not. After all, competing was something that your mom enjoyed, that she encouraged wholeheartedly. Regardless of how much you enjoyed it, it didn’t exactly fit the teenage rebellion thing you had going on right now. Maybe you wouldn’t go to competition this year, maybe you’d skip out on your final season out of pure spite - now that would be cruel. Although a part of you hurt at that idea - because you really did love skating - you reasoned that it was something you had to consider.

Fridays were always very long days for you. While your peers would be set free to roam following the 3pm school bell, you had more obligations for the day. Once you left school, you crammed in as much homework as you could before hitting the ice rink by 4:30 at the latest to get your own practice in. Once that was done, you led a youth skating practice until 7pm, then you tried to squeeze in some more skating time before the hockey team took to the ice at 7:15. After arriving home at 8 o’clock or later, you crammed more homework so you wouldn’t have to deal with it over the weekend, and then by that point you’d be too worn out for anything else, so you generally slept late into the next morning.

This had been your routine for over a year now, ever since your own couch suggested that you needed to get more extracurriculars under your belt for your college applications. She had insisted that your resume would look far more impressive if you showed that you had teaching experience and “leadership potential,” an idea that really appealed to your parents, who were determined for you to get into a good school, maybe even on a figure skating scholarship. So, you ended up taking over the Friday night children’s lessons whether you wanted to or not.

You honestly despised it. You led children age 5 to 7, and they were a constant pain in the ass. You couldn’t raise your voice without one of them crying, you couldn’t leave them to their own devices without someone inevitably ending up hurt. Yet, you stuck with it because you were told to, because the adults around you insisted that you needed to. You couldn’t stand the way your coach would insist that this would help develop your skills, you couldn’t stand how your mother insisted “you’ll look back on this so fondly when you’re older.” These damned kids skating lessons were something else you’d probably drop soon, because you barely tolerated them as is.

While everyone else was at the football game, while Eddie was probably off playing his stupid fantasy game or doing something equally as nerdy, you were here at the ice rink, shouting instructions at children while parents and hockey players watched. Some of the parents had made it clear before that they weren’t fond of your impatient and mean teaching methods, but your coach always seemed to talk them out of pulling their kids from your group. She always argued something about you being the best skating in the county, but you weren’t sure how true that was - sure, you had your fair share of medals, but even with your ego you were pretty sure there were better skaters at your level.

“Come on, slackers, we’ve got five minutes left!” You taunted your group of 11 kids as they skated around the perimeter of the rink as a cool down. You zipped ahead of them, leading the charge as you skated backwards to keep an eye on them.

Many of the older kids had grown used to your abrasive coaching, but you could see that many of the newbies were still frightened of you, your loud voice, and your cold eyes. As a means of excusing your poor teaching style, you always said that skating was a tough sport and they needed to toughen up if they wanted to be any good at it. For how pretty and elegant figure skating could be, you knew from experience that competitive skating could be harsh, so you figured you were helping these kids prepare for it.

Because the Hawkins High hockey team had the rink after your group every Friday, many of them were already sitting on the sidelines, getting their gear ready or watching you work. The cocky part of you enjoyed the attention, but hockey players were stupid, so you rarely gave any of them a chance whenever they tried talking to you. Nonetheless, when you were in a good mood, you enjoyed putting on a bit of a show for them, shooting flirty glances their way or occasionally calling out remarks to them between instructing the kids. Tonight, you were paying them little mind, but that didn’t stop you from looking their way every now and again.

As you led the kids back to the center of the ice to wrap up the lesson, a lot of their parents were also waiting in the bleachers or out in the lobby. While you skated back and forth in front of your little army of children, going over some instructions for their next practice with your coach on Monday, your eyes roamed the bleachers. You gave a wicked grin to the hockey players that watched you, meanwhile you took in the parents with very little regards. It was as you looked over the clusters of parents that you saw a familiar face sitting at the penalty bench, and unintentionally you let your toe pick drag on the ice, which very nearly caused you to trip.

God damn Eddie Munson.

As you glared in his direction, hoping your momentary lack of balance didn’t make you look too stupid, you dismissed the kids before gliding towards the dasher board. Eddie, grinning like an asshole, stood up to meet you as children began to exit the ice. You braced yourself on the rail of the board, eyes narrowed at Eddie who appeared far too amused for your liking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask in lieu of a greeting. Eddie briefly glances over at the kids leaving the ice.

“You’re incredible with children.” He mocked, smiling far too wide for your liking; you narrowed your eyes while wondering just how long he’d been here, “Figured I might find you here.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” You respond coldly, gaze briefly looking in the direction of the hockey team to find a couple of them watching your interaction. 

“You did say we needed to make plans, figure out how this was going to work,” Eddie started, taking in your red cheeks and slightly damp forehead that developed over the course of your skating lessons.

“I also said we’d talk about it next week.” You glowered a little, not worried if any of the hockey players saw it - maybe they’d simply mistake it for a lovers quarrel. Eddie grinned, holding his arms up as if he were a presenter on some dumb show.

“No time like the present, right?” Your unamused face gave him all the answer he needed, and his expression fell a little in annoyance, “And here I hoped I was being a good fake boyfriend by visiting you at the rink.”

“You’re being too good a fake boyfriend,” You jab.

Now that all the kids were off the ice, you slid towards the open gate; Eddie kept pace with you on the other side of the dasher board, meeting you at the gate and offering you his hand in assistance. You looked between his face and his outstretched hand with a glare, but eventually accepted his help, stepping over the barrier and onto the slightly cushy floor on the other side.

“I told you not tonight because I’m busy.” You walk over to the gym bag you left sitting on the nearest bleachers. As you sat beside it, Eddie shrugged with a carelessness that seemed almost false.

“Then I’ll go.” He answered simply as you removed your skates, “Just thought it might not be a bad idea to get to know you a little better. It’s not gonna be easy to fake date someone who you know nothing about.”

You shot him a harsh look while putting skate guards over your blades. You didn’t want to admit that he was right, but he had a good point, especially since you had already discussed it before. You sighed heavily through your nose, your cold eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Can’t it wait? I’ve had a long day.”

Eddie studied you for a moment, leaning back against the dasher board before looking around the ice rink. You quickly put some worn sneakers on your feet and stood, picking your bag and turning away with the intention to leave. But Eddie’s gentle grip on your wrist stopped you from going anywhere, causing you to look between his hand and his face. As you two held eye contact, you realized that Eddie could be just as stubborn as you when he wanted; damn, was this going to be difficult.

“Let me buy you dinner - I’m sure you’re starving,” Eddie started, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if he thought your attitude was because you were hangry. You chewed your lower lip, eyes staring critically at Eddie for another few moments before you let out a defeated sigh, allowing your shoulders to relax a little. Considering that it had been nearly eight hours since your lunch break, it might now be a bad idea to eat something.

Eddie’s eyes softened at your silent resignation, the corner of his mouth pulling up. He finally released your wrist, nodding his head in the direction of the lobby, “Come on, you pick.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Your pick ended up being a 24-hour diner downtown. Eddie showed clear confusion when you mentioned it, so you explained that - for whatever reason - the diner had become something of a tradition, where students congregated post-Friday night football into the wee hours of the night. You’d joined that crowd a number of times in the past, but had no more interest in it - what you were interested in was having people see you and Eddie out together.

You knew it would still be at least an hour before the football crowd arrived, but that wasn’t such a bad thing - it gave you and Eddie a bit of time to actually become acquainted, to learn more about each other beyond “ice princess” and “the freak.”

You studied Eddie while sipping on a chocolate shake, waiting for your food to arrive. He stared back at you unabashedly, and you figured you could be locked into this staring contest until the end of time given how stubborn you both could be. As if Eddie knew what you were thinking, he smirked, finally caving as he looked away from you.

“Not to sound cliche,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, almost as if he were nervous, but you assumed that couldn’t be true, “but… tell me about yourself?”

You smiled at how dumb the question was - that was so cliche. It was as good a starting place as any you figured, but that didn’t make it sound any less silly and forced. You leaned back in your seat, still holding tight to your milkshake as if it were a lifeline.

Putting on your best Miss America voice, you replied, “Well, I’m freshly 18 from Hawkins, Indiana. I love long walks on the beach, snuggling up with a good book, and I hope one day we’ll have world peace.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, although you could tell he was fighting back a grin, “You’re making this very challenging considering that it was your idea.”

You shrug, taking a big gulp of the chocolate shake, “I guess I’m just a challenging person.”

“You guess?” Eddie laughed mockingly at that, “You’re the most challenging I’ve met. So, how about you try relaxing a little or else no one’s going to buy that we’re together.”

You made a face at the near-insult, finally putting down your drink. You leaned your elbows on the table, taking in Eddie’s face for a moment, stubbornly resisting the urge to say anything. Again, he had a good point, not that you wanted to tell him that. Eddie appeared to have an idea as he mirrored your pose.

“Okay, we’ll go back and forth, a question for a question; how’s that?” You nodded, “Right. First question: Why me?”

Your brows furrowed a little in thought, pinning down a good answer while trying to recall what you’ve already told him, “Haven’t I already explained that?”

“Kind of.” Eddie rolled his hand in a motion that basically said “but go on.”

You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment while thinking, “Your reputation. People don’t know you, but your reputation is in the absolute gutter. No better person to turn to than the guy who everyone in the school already hates.”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the answer, “Okay, your turn.”

You grinned a little, a question already on your lips, “Why’d you agree to it?”

It was something you’d speculated briefly throughout the week, as you thought that your trade offer might not have been a compelling enough reason for Eddie to agree to this stupid plan. And now you could finally get the answer you were looking for.

Eddie silently stared at you in consideration, and again it almost felt like he was able to read your thoughts somehow. Finally, he answered, “Curiosity.”

You raised a brow in question, to which he once more scratched the back of his neck - maybe that actually was a nervous habit, so you took note of it.

“We both know this idea is kinda crazy,” Eddie started, mulling over his thoughts before continuing, “But I wanted to see how it plays out. See if we can actually trick people into believing it. And I wanted to see if you were as awful as I thought you were.”

You balked instantly, an amused huff escaping your mouth, “‘Awful?’ Jesus, you keep acting like I’m the devil or something.”

Eddie made a face while shrugging, not disagreeing with you, “You thought the same about me. So, let’s call it square.”

Food was finally brought to your table, and you had to resist the urge to attack the greasy burger set in front of you; you didn’t need Eddie to see you act like a ravenous gremlin over some food, even if it had been over eight hours since you’d eaten anything. But you nonetheless dug in, albeit with far more control than your empty, growling stomach would have liked.

“Your turn.” You say around a bite of food, causing Eddie to smile in amusement and the unladylike action.

“Hmm…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing you as he contemplated his next question. Self consciously, you wiped at the corner of your mouth just to make sure there wasn’t any stray ketchup or grease sitting there, “Why ice skating?”

“Because it’s better than cheerleading.” You smiled at your own joke before giving a slightly better answer, “I always thought it was pretty. Nothing else to it, unfortunately; no deep story and significance to it.”

“Fine.” Eddie responded almost as if he was disappointed by the mundane answer.

“Why Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Your questions can’t keep being off-shoots of mine.” Eddie laughed a little, and despite yourself it caused you to smile smally as well.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” He responded while pointing at himself, “I get to come up with some of the rules now, remember?”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes with a degree of fondness, which you immediately found strange, so you tried to wipe the look from your face. Nope, you weren’t fond of Eddie Munson, not at all.

You went back to your food, hoping Eddie didn’t catch the amused look on your face. You spoke around another bite of food, “Do you have siblings?”

“None that I know of.” He replied around his own mouthful of food, “But I wouldn’t exactly be surprised if there were any out there.”

You cocked your head a little at the response; it wasn’t so much shocking or sad, rather it was unexpected and different from your own life. You made a mental note to learn more about Eddie’s family, if not tonight then at a later point.

“What’s your plan after graduation?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then paused - what was your plan now that you were trying to make your own decisions? You hadn’t even considered it. Did you still want to go to college? Where? Studying what? You suddenly realized that you had no true plan for yourself, only the one outlined by your parents, and that realization made you nervous.

“Honest answer: not a fucking clue.” Eddie looked taken aback by the response, so you continued, “My plan before was getting into a good school on a skating scholarship, and studying something completely irrelevant. My parents expect my skating to carry me through life until some good, rich man sweeps me off my feet.”

“But that’s not your plan anymore?”

“That’s another question.” You give him a teasing grin, causing Eddie to roll his eyes, “First, answer me this: If you weren’t stuck in Hawkins, where would you go?”

Eddie grinned with an unexpected eagerness, “LA. The music scene there is insane, and I’d happily sleep on the streets if it meant I had a shot at making my own music.”

Your eyes softened ever so slightly at the unexpected, genuine response - admittedly, you didn’t peg Eddie as the type to have any real goals. But music? That was interesting to you since you weren’t even aware that he played any instruments. You wondered if he was actually any good at it, or if it was some foolish aspiration.

“Now, what’s your plan?” Eddie repeated, smirking at the look on your face - this was one of the few times you didn’t look like a total bitch, so he appreciated it. In fact, you looked relaxed and, dare he say, content; that was certainly unexpected from you.

When you shrugged, he shook his head, leaning forward again, “No, you come up with a plan right now. Don’t base it off what your parents want or what you think sounds like the right answer. What do you want to do with your life once we’re done with this shit hole?”

You contemplated, a mild concern washing over you as you stared at Eddie - what the hell did you want? And why did you suddenly feel so vulnerable because of the question. You had to rip your gaze away from Eddie’s, hardening your expression as you tried to think up an answer that felt right.

“I… I like art, I love clothes,” You started dumbly, glancing at Eddie through your lashes, expecting him to make a face at the lame answer, “I don’t know shit about them in a technical way, but it might be fun for college. Take painting or sewing classes during the day, skate until my feet hurt at night, maybe… I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, LA… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.”

“Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to LA together after graduation, huh?” Eddie smiled widely, and you allowed an amused look to cross your face.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You returned to your food as you tried to come up with a good question for Eddie. An intriguing one came to you, so you asked before you could second guess it, “How do you expect your fake girlfriend to act?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed; it didn’t appear to be due to him misunderstanding the question, but rather that it was unexpected; he even looked maybe hesitant to answer it. Again, he scratched his neck.

You lean forward a little, looking at him seriously, “Give me a good answer, okay? We’re just gonna keep going in circles otherwise.”

Eddie shrugged, “Maybe I don’t have any expectations.”

“Then come up with some.” You immediately counter, prodding the same way he had about your plans for the future. Eddie stared at you with scrutiny while chewing the inside of his lip, as if he didn’t want to come up with a response to the question. You waited, making a mock sweet face at him while you chowed down on your fries. You were going to demand an answer until he gave you one.

“Well, going off the rules you already established,” He made a bit of a face as if to mock the oh-so-sacred fake dating rules, “Aside from playing nice in front of others, it might be helpful if you were less stubborn; you’re like a damn bull.”

You gave him a joshing smile right back, “Fair. Is that it?”

Eddie quickly shook his finger; now it was just a back-and-forth game of you mocking one another, “Ah, that’s another question.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You rolled your eyes with a short laugh, “That is not another question.”

Eddie gave a fake look of apology, shrugging again, “Unfortunately, it is.”

You threw a french fry at him, which lamely hit his chest then landed in his lap. As he laughed and picked it up, you found yourself smiling fondly again, and you quickly tried to shake off the expression.

At that moment, the bell above the front door chimed, and immediately the diner was filled with rambunctious conversation. Your heart jumped a little, realizing the time, and you briefly glanced in the direction of the door; the group that had entered wasn’t your friends, although you recognized them. You turned your attention back to Eddie, who gave you another grin.

“Showtime.” He stated simply, and then a thought appeared to cross his mind, “You want another expectation? Tell me if anything I do is too much, but otherwise let me do what I do - you don’t need to be in control all the time.”

“Don’t I, though?” You countered haughtily, which was met by a flash of seriousness across Eddie’s eyes.

“No, you don’t. I know what I’m doing, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, not entirely convinced that he did, in fact, know what he was doing. Considering that you’d never seen him even interact with a girl before, you weren’t sure if he knew the first thing about dating or romance. But despite your doubts, you relented, relaxing your shoulders as if to show you were relinquishing some control.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes nonetheless, forever obstinate as you mocked, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, but otherwise I’ll let you do what you do.”

“Was that so hard?” Eddie replied with a condescending smirk. You sneered before relaxing your face, knowing your friends were bound to appear any minute now.

As you stole another glance at the door, you suddenly felt Eddie’s fingers graze the back of your hand, drawing your attention back to him with a confused little knot between your brows. He held your gaze as if to make a point, as if to remind you of the conversation you just had, that he knew what he was doing. His hand simply sat on top of yours, your fingers ever so slightly lacing together - he raised his brows as if to dare you to pull away from him. You had to resist the urge to narrow your eyes at him and snatch your hand away, and in turn Eddie gave you a cocky grin before continuing to eat with his free hand.

Eventually, your friends appeared, although they didn’t notice you at first. They were all so full of energy as they excitedly spoke to each other, descending upon a few tables in the middle of the diner and pushing them together. The staff were used to it, although you knew from experience that they nonetheless hated it; you guys were always disruptive to the other patrons, and you figured that was never going to change.

You tried your best not to stare, but your eyes kept trailing over, kept studying the excited faces of the people you considered friends only a couple of weeks ago. After your eyes had drifted over for the umpteenth time, you felt Eddie lightly squeeze your fingers, causing you to unintentionally sneer at how strange it was to maintain this physical contact with him.

“Stop staring,” He instructed when you looked back at him.

With a quarrelsome look in your eyes, you did as Eddie told you, returning your attention to the half eaten burger on your plate, “Talk to me about something, then.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t care, just talk so I can pretend to be interested.”

Eddie looked mildly put off by that, and you realized that you’d taken your customary mean tone with him. You couldn’t seem to help yourself with your former cohorts nearby, it was as if their energy was rubbing off on you.

“You know what I’m going to talk about,” Eddie taunted with a wide grin.

Your face fell in realization, “Please not Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I’m gonna do it.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“So, there’s this character, Kas, who has really interesting lore--”

You threw another fry at Eddie, and at that same moment, you felt someone come up alongside your table. You both look up to see Amelia there with a critical look on her face; your gaze drifts past her, noticing that a few people from her table were also looking at you and Eddie.

You met Amelia’s eyes again, giving her a wide, false smile, “Small world.”

Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, “Yeah, I’m sure you just completely forgot we always come here after games.”

“Maybe she just wanted to see her dear friends.” Eddie chimed in mockingly, once again surprising you with his willingness to instigate confrontation. You laughed as a dumbfounded look crossed Amelia’s at his remark.

“I don’t know what the hell she sees in you.” Amelia snarked with a glare before turning her gaze back to you, “And I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but it’s already getting pretty old.”

You shrug with exaggerated nonchalance, “Sometimes a girl just needs a bit of a change every now and then, you know?”

Amelia didn’t look convinced as she rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh, “Yeah, well, this ‘change’ doesn’t suit you at all.”

Before you could respond with another quip, Amelia spun on her heel and briskly returned to her table. By that point, everyone there was watching and awaiting Amelia’s return, quickly huddling together to whisper conspiratorially once she sat down.

You and Eddie shared an amused glance; he went back to poking at his food as your gaze trailed back to Amelia and company. You happened to lock eyes with Duncan, who stared at you with harsh scrutiny, as if he wasn’t buying this thing between you and Eddie in the slightest. You gave Duncan a mocking while, starting to wave before flipping him off, causing Eddie to snort and choke on his food. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he hit his chest a couple of times, trying to clear his throat. The sound of such a genuine laugh escaping you was absolutely foreign to Eddie, but he decided it was a sound he enjoyed, even if it was at his expense; he made a mental note that he had to find ways to make you laugh more that didn’t involve him choking.

“You could’ve killed me.” Eddie croaked before laughing himself, his smile wide.

“You’re fine.” You teased, squeezing his fingers while giving him a false pout of sympathy, “You big baby.”

Eddie rolled his eyes in amusement, digging his wallet out while finally relinquishing the grip he had on your hand, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He tossed money onto the table and stood, offering his hand to you again. You quickly snagged one last fry before accepting Eddie’s hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He once again laced his fingers with yours as he led you through the crowded diner, and you had to fight back the desire to cringe in confusion at it. The both of you eyed the crowd of Hawkins High’s elite as they watched you back critically.

Once outside the diner, Eddie paused in front of one of the large windows and pulled a ridiculous face at the kids still watching you; he quickly tugged your arm, leading you back towards the van as you laughed again at his antics.

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 , PART 22 , PART 23 , PART 24 , PART 25 , PART 26 , PART 27 , PART 28 , PART 29 (You're here), PART 30

Gaius: (sighs) My boy, I don't think crying for your life to the King is going to work.

Merlin: Is not him I'm going to cry to.

Gaius: ...

Merlin: I know, I know. This is so absur-

Gaius: Brilliant! 😃 How didn't I think of this before? (quickly looks for some medicine and gives it to Merlin) Here, a couple of drops in your eyes should be enough.

Merlin: I can't believe you're really supporting this madness.

Gaius: Madness is what Arthur will do if you don't change his mind soon. (starts pushing Merlin out of his chambers) Now go, I can't keep the King assleep much longer. (ends to push Merlin outside and closes the door)

Meanwhile in Arthur's Chambers.

Arthur: (on his desk with a bunch of parchments with names, strategies and possible scenarios, thinking) This was not supposed to happen so soon. I had I plan goddamit! (sinks his face in his hands) Why father? Why do you always want to take away everyone I love? First Gwen and now...(sighs and gets the hands off his face) I hate you, so much... but I don't want to kill you. I don't want to do any of this, but I have to. You'd do the same for my mother. I hope you understand, because even now I can't bare the thought of you not forgiving me.

Merlin: (enters hanging his head)

Arthur: (letting out his frustration) May I know where have you been? 😡 This room is not going to clean itself. I have a lot of work to do and you are-

Merlin: (lifts his head to reveal two rivers of tears under his eyes, face red, hiccuping and whining)

Arthur: Merlin! (jumps from his sit and runs to Merlin, almost in panic) What is it?! Did something happen? (checks him, worried) Are you hurt?! Tell me!

Merlin: (thinking) Me eyes hurt! 🥺 Why does it have to burn this much? 😭(says) Please, Arthur, stop this! This is your fault! (hits Arthur's chest)

Arthur: What?! What did I do?! 😨

Merlin: (thinking) Shit, I did it backwards. (says) I mean, MY fault! (hits his chest) It's all my fault! (hits his chest harder) My fault, my fault!

Arthur: (very concern) Will you stop that?! You'll hurt yourself! Merlin! (grabs Merlin by the wrists) What's gotten into you?

Merlin: Please, Arthur. I can't-(thinking) Wait, I forgot to kneel. (drops to his knees)

Arthur: What the- 😨

Merlin: I can't live with myself if blood is spilled because of me! 😭 (tries to hold Arthur's hands, but can't see well through the tears so he ends up pulling his trousers in a crying mess)

Arthur: (definitely in panic now) What are you doing?! Merlin, stand up! My trousers are going to fall. Merlin! (kneels too and cups his face, comforting) I get that you're scared, but everything will turn out alright.

Merlin: (thinking) Nooo! It's not working! And I can't hug his legs now! (says) No! No! You have to stop this-Argh! (thinking) Damn it! It's burning too much! I can't open my eyes! (hides his face in his hands, pretending he's crying harder)

Arthur: (even more worried) Merlin look at me, please.

Merlin: (thinking) No! He'll realise I'm faking if I can't open my eyes. What do I do? What else was in Morgana's script? Oh, right! (says) If you do this, I… I'd rather… disappear! (faints dramatically)

Arthur: (catches him before he hits the floor in reflex) Merlin? (pats his face) Merlin! (shakes him) Merlin, open your eyes.

Merlin: (thinking) I can't. I fainted.

Arthur: Wake up, come on. Merlin! (Shakes him harder)

Merlin: (thinking) Ow! There is no need to be so rough. 😠

Arthur: (concern) He fainted.

Merlin: (thinking) Don't say!

Arthur: I need to take him to Gaius. (carries Merlin bridal style)

Merlin: (thinking) Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! why are you carrying me like this? 😳😫

Arthur: (Runs outside with Merlin in his arms and yelling) Gaius! (Runs through the castle staff) Everybody, get out of the way! It's an emergency! Gaius!

Merlin: (thinking) There's no need to be so dramatic either! 🤦‍♂️

In Gaius' Tower.

Arthur: (enters kicking the door open) Gaius!

Gaius: (looks Merlin in Arthur's arms, alarmed) What happened?!

Arthur: I don't know! He-

Gaius: Lay him on the bed first. I need to examine him.

Arthur: (Lays Merlin on the bed quickly)

Gaius: (while checking Merlin) Now explain.

Arthur: (paces, anxiously) He came to my chambers crying and saying that this was all his fault, hitting himself like a madman. Then he begged me to stop the rebel-the back up plan and he kneeled, Gaius, he KNEELED before me! When has he ever done that? I tried to calm him, but he just wouldn't stop crying! And then suddenly he fainted!

Merlin: (pinches Gaius subtly)

Gaius: (realices he's faking) I see... (gets an idea) Oh, my poor, poor boy.

Arthur: (stops pacing) What? What is it?

Gaius: It seems that Merlin is in a very bad state of... anxiety, Sire.

Arthur: Anxiety?

Gaius: Yes, that! He fainted from the anxiety. I know he doesn't show it always, Sire, but Merlin is very... sensitive. Sometimes his heart cannot bear strong impressions and, apparently, the approach of a rebellion was too much for his... delicate heart.

Merlin: (thinking, offended) That's not true! 😠

Arthur: (thinking, between concerned and confused) How can this be? Not even when his father died I've seen him so distraugh. Does the rebellion really worries him this much? (says) But he'll wake up, right? He'll be fine.

Gaius: He will, but I fear that... (dramatic pause)

Arthur: What? Tell me!

Gaius: If he continues receiving news that could cause him any anguish he could become seriously ill to the point his heart could... stop beating completely.

Merlin: (thinking) Really, Gaius? 🙄 What was the need of making up this diagnosis?

Arthur: (desperate) No... No! there must be something you can give him! Some medicine, a treatment, ANYTHING!

Gaius: The only thing that can help Merlin now is rest and tranquility. ABSOLUTE tranquility.

Arthur: (sinks in a chair nearby, filled with guilt) This is my fault, isn't it? He's like this because of me.

Merlin: (thinking) No, no, no. Don't think that! ☹️

Gaius: You had no way of knowing this would happen, Sire.

Arthur: What do I do now? If I keep up with my plan I lose him if I don't I lose him too. (looks up at gaius with watery eyes) I can't lose him, Gaius. (thinking) Not again, not again. Please.

Merlin: (thinking, his heart beating like crazy) He... He never cared for me like this in my other life. It feels... nice.

Gaius: (puts a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder) Rebellion is not the only answer. You said yourself it was just a back up plan. You can still reason with the King or we can put Merlin safe somewhere.

Arthur: But he'll be away.

Gaius: But safe. Isn't that what's important?

Arthur: ...

Gaius: Whatever it is you'll do, I know you'll make the right decision, your Highness.

Arthur: (sighs, stands up, aproaches Merlin and caresses his hand lovinly)

Merlin: (tries very hard for his heart and breathing to stay even)

Arthur: Tell me when he wakes. I need to take care of some things.

Gaius: Of course, Sire.

Arthur: (gives a last look at Merlin and finally leaves)

Merlin: (sits up as soon as the door closes) What the hell was that?! 😡

Gaius: That was me saving us all.

Merlin: "Anxiety"? "delicate heart"? "his heart could stop beating completely"? There was no need to scare him like that!

Gaius: You are the one who decided to faint. Why did you do that?

Merlin: Morgana told me to.

Gaius: (in understanding) Morgana! I should've known it was her idea.

Merlin: Yes, the idea was to use tears to persuade Arthur of not doing the rebellion. This is outright lying to him! And you know I hate lying to him, Gaius! (rubs his eyes) Ugh, my eyes still burn a bit.

Gaius: This should help (gives him a bowl with water and Merlin starts washing his eyes). I'm sorry I lied to Arthur, but I figured that if he was doing this rebellion to save you, the only way to stop him was if he believed you'll be in danger if the rebellion were to happen too.

Merlin: (sighs) What's done is done. (gets off the bed)

Gaius: What are you doing?

Merlin: Going to do my chores.

Gaius: You can't! You are supposed to be ill. Remember?

Merlin: So what? You expect me to stay in bed all day?

Gaius: That's exactly what you'll do. Now, lay down.

Merlin: But-

Gaius: Lay down.

Merlin: (recluntanly lays down) Can I read a book at least?

Gaius: I'll bring you some.

Time skip. Arthur with Kilgharrah.

Kilgharrah: I don't understand. Don't you want to start your reign, young Pendragon?

Arthur: Of course I do! But not at the cost of Merlin.

Kilgharrah: It's not just about saving him. It is Uther who persecutes Merlin and his kind. Even if Uther were to spare his life, which I doubt, your warlock won't be free until Uther dies.

Arthur: I know. But everything is getting out of my hands! I can't go back to my original plan and the back up plan is not an option now. (holds his head in desperation) How did everything turn out this bad? This never happened in my timeline!

Kilgharrah: Every change you've done, even if it was small, could lead to a complete different scenario. Being from the future won't prepare you for that.

Arthur: What do I do then? There's no pacific way to get out of this.

Kilgharrah: Maybe not pacific but, perhaps, a least violent one. Just enough to not worsen your warlock's state.

Arthur: Which is?

Kilgharrah: You needn't to involve others when the enemy is only one.

Arthur: ...

Kilgharrah: You already thought of it.

Arthur: (sighs) I did, I was just hoping you'll come up with something different.

Time skip. In Uther's chambers.

Gaius: (preparing another sedative)

Arthur: (enters) You don't have to do that anymore, Gaius.

Gaius: (turns to him, surprised) Sire!

Arthur: (smiles) Let him wake up. I want to speak with him alone.

Gaius: (nods in underdstanding) I'll prepare Merlin's things just in case.

Arthur: That won't be necessary, Gaius. Don't worry.

Gaius: ... Sire?

Arthur: (gives him a calm smile) You really don't have to worry, Gaius. I found I way to convince him. He won't be able to deny me this. You can go in peace.

Gaius: (unsure, but bows and leaves)

Arthur: (his smiles fades as soon as Gaius is gone, checks the doors are closed and then turns to Uther) This was not supposed to happen like this. (walks to the bed) I was going to give you an honorable dead, you were going to be remembered as a hero, even though you don't deserve it. You've hurt a lot of people, father. Murdered thousands of innocents in your grief... but aren't I about to do the same? Haven't I already done that to be where I stand? (pulls Uther's hair out of his face) It makes me wonder. Were you always a monster, father? Or you only turned this way when you lost my mother? You always insisted I marry for duty even though you married for love. Was it because you feared what I'll become if I were to fall in love like you? (lets a dry laugh) I guess what is inherited is not stolen. (grabs a pillow) There's a difference between me and you though. I'd never blame others for my own mistakes and I would never risk Merlin like you did with my mother. (holds the pillow close to Uther's face) I'm sorry.

Anhora: (appearing out of nowhere) Arthur Pendragon.

Arthur: (lets the pillow fall to the floor, almost jumping out of his skin, but quickly composes himself as he recgonises him) The keeper of the unicorns.

Anhora: Glad I don't have to introduce myself. I have come to deliver a message.

Arthur: (tired) Please don't tell me you'll curse Camelot. I don't have time for this. I let your unicorn go.

Anhora: For which I'm in debt with you. Whoever dares to slay a unicorn meets despair, but those who save one can be rewarded.

Arthur: Do you have an enchantment that can make my father forget all his absurd suspicions about Merlin? Because if you don't I don't know you how else you could help me.

Anhora: This is what I don't get. You spared the life of my unicorn, which is an act of a pure hearted person. Yet your heart is anything but pure. You are ready to enchant your father, to take his life just to fullfil your selfish desires.

Arthur: Is this my reward? A sermon?

Anhora: No. (gets a bracelet out of his pocket) this bracelet made of unicorn hair is a lucky charm. It could help turn chances at your favor, but it'll disappear as soon as you achieve your goal.

Arthur: You said could. You mean is not certain?

Anhora: You have to make your part and it'll only help you with one aim. The more short term and specific the better.

Arthur: That's a very useless lucky charm. 😒

Anhora: Useless or not it's yours. I beg you to use it wisely (extends the hand with the bracelet)

Arthur: (grabs it) Thank you.

Anhora: (about to leave, but turns) Prince of Camelot, if you keep down this pat you build and embrace the darkness in your heart to protect your love ones, that darkness will end up harming those you hold most dear.

Arthur: You think I don't know? You think I like doing what I'm doing? (laughs without humor) Is ironic. Where I come from you determined I was "pure of heart" for the same reason now you are determining I'm not. Because I wanted to save Merlin, to keep him safe. But even then I was willing to leave my kingdom without a heir just so he wouldn't die. My love was never pure.

Anhora: (with sadness) It was. It once was. One of the purest love I've ever seen. Or at least it could have been. Now it's corrupted.

Arthur: (surprised) You... you are-

Anhora: If something goes wrong this time, there will be no going back. And it will not be fate's fault. The blame will fall entirely on you, Arthur Pendragon. Are you prepared to assume the consequences of your actions?

Arthur: (serious) Yes.

Anhora: Then you are doomed (dissapears)

Arthur: (sighs and looks at the bracelet, thinking) This better work. (puts it on)

Uther: (wakes up) What…? Where am I?

Arthur: (takes a chair nearby and sits next to him) In your chambers, father. You had a seizure.

Uther: (still kind of groggy) Oh...

Arthur: Father, I know Merlin behaved very poorly and I take complete responsability for that. I've given him too many liberties since he is under my service. I failed to properly teach him how he should adress his superiors and for that I'm sorry. It won't happen again, but please, I beg you, spare his life.

Uther: (smiles softly) Alright, I'll spare him.

Arthur: (very surprised) Really? (thinking) This thing is more effective than I thought!

Uther: (smiles more brightly) Of course! Anything for my son.

Arthur: (thinking) ...okay, something's wrong. (says) Father, how many fingers do you see? (raises 3 fingers in front of his eyes)

Uther: Hmmm... Six!

Arthur: (lets out a sigh of exasperation, thinking) No! He's still drugged! It won't matter if he spares Merlin's life now, he'll take back his words as soon as he comes back to his senses...unless... (stands up and searches around the room quickly)

Uther: What are you doing son?

Arthur: (picks a parchment and a quill and sits back next to Uther) Can you show me how you sign your treates, father? I want to see if I'm doing it correctly.

Uther: My son, always looking for perfection. Alright. (signs)

Arthur: (thinking, looking at the parchment) The writing is stable enough. (says) Father, I just remember there are some urgent documents that need to be signed. I really don't want to bother you, you've just woken up, but you're the King. You're the only one the can do it.

Uther: I understand. You can bring them to me.

Arthur: I'll be right back. (stands up and goes to the door)

Uther: Arthur!

Arthur: (turns around)

Uther: I love you, son.

Arthur: (thinking, holding back the tears) Of course the only times you've told you loved me would be when you're drugged or in your deathbed. (says) I love you too, father. (leaves)

...

Anhora I hate you for stopping Arthur from killing Uther but I also love you cause now Arthur can go back to his original plan :D

How will Uther react when he comes back to his senses? Will Merlin really be safe? Find out in the next part of "Merlin: The Favourite of crocodile tears"

Also credits to my best friend Rosangela, who is practically beta and almost co-writer of this AU now.

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @cute-girl-next-door , @bogslob , @tkmaras , @cunts-and-kermits

[eddiediaaz]

hi guys, i am kind of ashamed and embarrassed to have to do this, but i figured it can't hurt to ask. basically i am really struggling right now (i know a lot of us are). i need financial help, so i set up a ko-fi page ☕

any kind of help would be so appreciated and i am so grateful for anyone taking the time to read this little post.

long story short: because of situations completely out of my control, i lost my job in vfx after almost 8 years and i am now forced to switch careers. i'm going back to school and can't find a part time job even tho i have been working non stop for 15 years. financial aid will only cover my rent, so i absolutely need to work 20 to 30 hours a week to cover the rest of my living expenses, but it's really hard to find a job. i am also currently over 10k cad in debt from my film school loans and credit cards.

signal boost would be appreciated, if you can 💕

my situation in more details under the cut for those who are curious

i was working in the vfx industry as a 2D compositor since 2016 (i have worked on over 40 films and tv shows), but in december of 2023 i lost my job due to the hollywood strikes (as expected, and as it should—i fully support the strikes). this was supposed to be temporary for a couple months where i could get unemployment benefits (only 45% of my usual salary though). unfortunately, on may 31st 2024, my government announced that they are significantly cutting the funding & tax credits for the vfx industry where i live. what does this mean? mass lay offs. thousands of canadians and other people in the world working in the industry are losing their career, including me. there will only be about 20% vfx jobs left where i live by 2025. vfx shops and production houses have already started to close doors here. i'm still mourning this career i have been working in for 8 years and loved, even tho it's been difficult and demanding at times (lots of overtime), but there are just no jobs right now (unless you are a senior vfx artist with decades of experience) and the future will only get more bleak. i could move abroad and follow the industry that is already moving somewhere else, but i don't want to do that on my own (i am already super lonely as it is!!) and i can't afford it.

my unemployment benefits will run out by the last week of september. in 4 weeks. i've been sending resumes everywhere, both online and in person, but i am just not getting anything in return. even tho i have over 15 years of experience working in various jobs and i have never been fired from anywhere. even tho my resume and cover letters are solid because they have been approved my professional counselors (a free service for people under 35 where i live). so much for they're hiring everywhere...

since my vfx compositing skills are very niche and not really applicable to much else, i decided to go back to school, taking college classes in the admin and excecutive assistant fields, since it's something that i think would be good for me and there are lots of jobs for that here. i will be getting some financial aid, but it's nowhere near enough to survive. it will only cover my rent, and that's because my rent is super cheap for my city. my college classes start on september 30 and i am excited for it, but also very stressed because i still don't have a part time job.

i've been living on my own with a small salary for over 10 years now, but it truly is the first time that i'm struggling this hard. i honestly don't have anything worth selling except some taylor swift perfumes, which i sold this week. i also have over 6k of credit debt and another 4.5k of school loans left to pay. at the bare minimum i will need about $1.000 CAD/month to cover my other bills and expenses after rent, hence why the need for a job ASAP. i am desperate and my mental health has been a huge mess. this is why i decided to open my ko-fi accounts. not that i'm expecting much, but anything can help, i think.

i don't have much to offer in exchange, except gifs? i'm wondering if (cheap, low price) gif commissions are a thing? i have no idea know, but i set up a poll on my ko-fi page to see if anyone would be interested.

thank you for reading if you've made it here, it's appreciated 💖

[pernesophe]

“Teach Me”: Arranged Marriage to Togame Jo

(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)

MDNI MATURE CONTENT: TW: arranged marriage, mention of reader's not great mother, suggestive and smut, groping/petting, usage of good girl, cunnilingus (both giving and receiving), vaginal intercourse. Also it is reader's first time, but this is fictional so like reader will be having a good time. No ages mentioned, but written as 18+ characters. Synopsis: You are promised to marry the son of the Togame Clan - Jo Togame. Will you and your new husband be able to get along? (This is 100% inspired by that one scene in Grey's Anatomy where Lexie keeps telling Sloane "teach me" to convince him to have sex with her. Only inspired by, so my apologies if this does not live up to that but I did try!) WC: ~6,659

When your mother informed you that you were to marry the first son, Jo Togame, of the Togame Clan you hadn’t expected the man standing at the end of the aisle to be so handsome, or tall. On the long trek to their palace, your mother spoke ad nauseum about how important this alliance with the Togame clan is and that you need to be willing to do anything to keep your new husband happy. Though she didn’t say it directly, it was heavily implied that if he wanted to spend time in another’s bed, then you would need to be accepting of that. 

“Love is Sacrifice.” She had told you with a finality in her tone that made your blood boil and bile rise in your throat. A loveless marriage isn’t something you had ever dreamed of. You had been diligent in your studies, learned how to run a House, and what it takes to rear children. Though young and maybe sometimes a little naive, you knew you were worth committing to, and you weren’t willing to accept anything less than true love from your new husband.

The ceremony was traditional - barring a few differences in culture - and was followed by a reception filled with food, drink, music and dancing. Although you and your husband were seated side by side for the festivities, the two of you barely exchanged any words other than a few pleasantries.

Regardless, you enjoyed taking in his flowing, raven locks, striking viridescent eyes, and the long slope of his nose. When he spoke to the people coming to congratulate the two of you, his bow shaped lips would curl into the most breathtaking smile that made your heart flutter. Just as the night came to a close, two big incidents occurred.

First, you were approached by a maiden who asked if she could take you to get ready now, but as you began to nod your husband gently told her that won’t be necessary. A worried look flashed across her face before she nodded and scurried off. You looked to Jo for an explanation, but he just told you not to worry about it and went back to saying goodbyes for the both of you. About 15 minutes later, a rather official looking man of the court approached you directly.

“Good evening. May my maiden prepare you for your wedding night?” He asked with a sickly sweet smile that made your skin crawl. Slowly, you nodded and started to rise to your feet again, but Jo was already on his feet. One large, possessive hand laid on your shoulder, gently pulling you so your back was flush with his chest as he looked down at the official over the top of your head.

“That won’t be necessary.” Jo repeated himself with an easy going smile, but the way he carried himself was still incredibly intimidating. The court official took an uneasy step back, but didn't let it go just yet.

“Are you not celebrating your wedding night, Sir?” He asked lightly, but the suspicious glint in his eye showed the heaviness of the topic as a hush falls over the room. Jo’s serene smile didn't drop as he calmly spoke. 

“I’ll be preparing my wife for our wedding night. I did swear to protect her body and virtue in my vows, did I not? It seems only right that I’m the sole person to witness her.” Jo replied smoothly, completely throwing the court official as he dumbly nodded and took his leave. Your face burned from the blatant implication, and your heart did a hopeful flutter that maybe your marriage will be good. Apparently your husband is known for his quick quips and wittiness as a small chorus of chuckles followed the man out.

The second incident to occur was when a large intimidating man, covered in scars and wearing an eyepatch approached your wedding table with a ridiculously large knife. Freezing in place, you involuntarily grabbed Jo’s hand in fear, eyes widened as you held your breath. An Assassination attempt already?!

Internally you screamed, but then Jo patted your hand with the one not being held and smiled down at you comfortingly, emerald eyes glinting in the candlelight.

“He’s here for me.” Your husband explained with a small chuckle at your cute expression, but when that only heightened your fear he had to stifle a laugh at your frightened eyes. Frightened for him.

“It’s a ritual. There’s no danger, I promise.” Voice low and soothing as you nodded and released his hand, and then he stood and followed the ‘not-assassin�� to the center of the room. Once there, a chair was placed behind Jo and he sat and swept his hair so it was laid on the back of the chair. 

The ritual only took about 30 minutes. The not-assassin turned out to be a type of barber, as he used the curved blade to cut almost all of Jo’s hair off. Only the top locks on his head were left at a medium-short length that fluttered down and framed his broad, striking features. The under-layers were all shaved close to his head so there was a gradient until it became most thin along his neckline and sideburns. At first you were shocked, and a little sad to watch his long hair fall to the stone floor, but when you saw the finished look you felt a fluttering deep in your belly that you've never felt before.

Finally, the festivities were over and the two of you were able to head to your room. The custom was different in this kingdom where the two of you would share a room always instead of just for consummation or procreation. It made you feel a little better about coming here.

Even though you and your husband were currently bumbling around the shared space so awkwardly - avoiding each other’s gazes and chuckling out apologies when you would cross paths. It takes some time, but you get up enough courage to deliberately stop in Jo’s path and meet his gaze with determination. He peers down at you with a curious smile, until you begin to undo your wedding robes for him, then his smile drops completely causing your hands to still.

“Don’t. We don’t need to tonight.” Speaking curtly as he tries to move past you and exit the room completely. Bewildered for a moment, but the fiery anger of rejection stokes your muscles to move. Quickly, you bolt in front of him so that you are positioned between him and the door, a glare set in your brow.

“Look,” he sighs at you. “You’ve already had to sacrifice a lot for this, and I don’t want you to have to sacrifice everything for ‘love’ at least on the first day…” He says calmly, even though he put air quotes on the word love, and then rubs the back of his neck from the building tension in the room. Glaring at him unblinkingly for a moment, before you shift your weight to one foot and cross your arms over your chest - Jo’s eyebrows shoot up at your sudden change in demeanor.

”Do you know what my mother told me when I was notified that I would marry you?” You ask defiantly, he blinks rapidly at you, but then shakes his head slowly. “She said ‘Love is Sacrifice’, and I hated her for saying it, because I didn’t want that to be true.” Vulnerability glints in your eyes as your words puncture the tension in the air, and Jo’s shoulders relax as he regards you a bit more seriously. 

“But I’ve already sacrificed everything. I’m here, with you, and I don’t know anyone or have any friends - so it’s just too sad to think that I won’t receive any love in return.” Admitting to him softly, and he opens his mouth to explain himself, but you keep talking so he can't convince you to wait. 

“On the way here I promised myself that I would fight for an honest marriage - one where I love my husband, and he loves me. So no - I will not accept this,” Speaking firmly with a slight sneer as you gesture between him and the door. If Jo knew what was good for him he wouldn’t interrupt, because you’re just getting started. Fortunately, he seemed to already be picking up on that as he slowly nodded at your words.

“I will not compromise about this either. I don’t care if it’s awkward, or even unbearable for us this time. We will consummate our marriage, and by God we will learn how to love each other. Because we are stuck together now, and I will not accept anything less than your unconditional love. I don’t care if it -or you- kills me, but you will accept mine as well. That is the promise we made to each other today, and maybe you aren’t, but I am true to my word.” Speaking with a determination he didn’t know you possessed earlier on the altar as you enunciated your words carefully, and borderline threateningly to him now.

With that, you begin stripping the intricate bridal robes to reveal a cotton slip underneath that came to your mid thigh and plunged deeply with wispy straps to hold the fabric on your body. It wasn’t form fitting, but underneath he could see your curves illuminated in the gauzy fabric by the candlelight. His eyes roam over your curves, plush thighs, and delicate, dewey skin. Traveling back to your face where he finds an expectant expression on your face, and if his nerves weren’t wracked to high heaven already he would’ve laughed at the notch in your brow. Face set as if you were preparing for war. 

Obliging your silent request, he disrobes as well - revealing to you a sleeveless undershirt slightly parted to show his broad chest and hard abdomen covered in sun kissed skin and an assortment of battle scars. As his robes fall, your eyes follow the thick muscles connecting his neck to his shoulder, down to his impressive bicep, which gave way to his forearm and calloused hand that were lined with veins that popped out as he flexed them under your intense stare. 

When he did so, it brought your attention to his ceremonial pants that housed an impressive bulge that pulled your focus to right in between his thighs. Your breath hitches as you wonder - without even seeing it fully - how it would fit? Jo, seeing your wide eyes and worried look, gently reaches forward and grasps your elbows lightly in his hands and forces you to meet his gaze.

”Don’t push yourself… This is why I didn’t want to jump right into it.” He says gently as his expression softens incredibly and he shoots you a reassuring smile - wordlessly conveying that it's okay to wait.

”I-I’m not pushing myself… I just… Haven’t done this before, so I may be inexperienced at first…” Trailing off quietly, turning shy for the first time since you stopped him from leaving. Adorable. Jo muses to himself as an imperceptible smile passes over his lips.

“Have you done this before?” Asking him with eyebrows raised as you shoot him a hopeful look. His eyes widen this time as he tries to think of an appropriate answer. Yes, he has done this - at the brothel in town, where he paid them to teach him what to do in his teen years… but he didn’t know if you’d be okay hearing that or not.

”Yes…” he answers cautiously. Beaming up at him excitedly, you step forward and grab his forearms - causing his face to turn beet red, but you barely notice. Togame’s heart begins beating wildly against his ribcage as he wills he breathing to remain steady.

”Th-Then, will you… teach me?” Asking, oh so innocently - obviously not knowing what you’re asking of him, or doing to him. Lime green eyes growing dark at your request, but he smiles bashfully and shakes his head as a quiet scoff passes his lips.

”Y/N, I think we should wait…” He responds slowly, but you’re already hooking your fingers into the straps of your dress to let it fall to the floor. Proving his warrior reflexes, Jo grabs your hands to stop you at top speed.

”I don’t want to wait, and neither do our people… Do… Do you not want me?” Murmuring as your eyes fall to the ground and your face contorts from hurt. His hands fly up in front of him defensively as he shakes his head vehemently - brows raised and verdant eyes wide in disbelief.

”I want you, God, do I want you.” Groaning low, restraint held taught as he tries to stay focused. “I just want- I want you to feel comfortable, not nervous our first time together.” Reassuring you as best he can in a gentle tone, just barely disguising the inner turmoil he was currently facing as you peer up at him with those bedroom eyes. Honestly, Jo didn’t even think you knew how to give a look like that on purpose - which only made him sweat more.

”Then teach me,” saying a little more earnestly, making his cock twitch at your plea. “The only way I won’t feel nervous is if I know what I’m doing…” speaking low in a persuasive tone as you finally remove the straps and drop the fabric to the floor. Revealing yourself in all your glory to your stunned husband.

Togame feels absolutely feral just from the sight of you - like a beast was clawing in his veins just to touch you - still he holds himself back. You take a tentative half step forward so your bodies are a breath away from touching. ”Teach me, Jo, please…” you plead again - eyes begging this time.

Unable to hold himself back any longer - the beast tears straight through his bloodstream as he watches himself grab and pull you into his arms and crash his mouth against yours. Pressing your back to the door, he nudges his knee in between your thighs and leans closer until your already dripping core is soaking his pants. Rocking your hips on instinct to get some desired friction as you ride his thigh. Moving to devour your neck as he hears himself growl, “That’s it. Cum on my thigh, Y/N. Good Girl.” 

The hardened top of his thigh pressing deliciously into your clit was sending shocks of pleasure through your core straight to your fingers and toes. Nails digging into his biceps for stability and toes curling just above the floor. Air is becoming scarce as your breathing turns uneven and broken up by whiny moans. He groans low against your skin as you grind frantically on him to chase your release. Finally, as the taught string snaps in your core you tilt your head back and cry out, “Oh God, Jo!” Before you fall limp against your husband’s chest.

Resituating you to wrap your legs around his hips, Togame uses one strong arm to brace you against his chest as he carries you over to the four post bed. Laying you down and quickly following to lay in between your thighs, pressing his bulge into your already sensitive heat causing you to arch your back and gasp. He titters quietly from your reaction before dipping his head and slotting his lips with yours. Swiping his tongue across your bottom lip as his large hands map out your body. His fingertips tickle your ribcage and caress from your collarbones, over your sternum, all the way down to the rise of your hips. Roughened hands traveling over your smooth curves and plump breasts, the swell of your thighs and down to knead your ass. Loving squeezes and caresses followed by compliments breathed into your mouth: 

“You’re so soft,” as his tongue flicked the corner of your mouth earning a gasp; “and warm,” as he nips at your bottom lip; “and your hips, my god! They’re perfect for bearing my children…” his eyes flash at the thought as you gasp from the compliment; “I can’t wait to make you plump with our child,” he whispers before finally slipping his tongue in your mouth. Togame tastes of wine, clove, and something muskily sweet that made your pussy drool as you deepened the kiss for more.

“Pull my hair,” he directs between kisses - immediately you follow his instructions - pulling him closer. After mussing his soft raven locks in your hands, you take the initiative and let them drift over the hard planes of his chest and abdomen to dip your fingertips into his shirt. Slowly, you push the cotton cloth off his shoulders, and Jo leans back to let the fabric slide off his muscular build - eyes gleaming down at you pridefully. 

Wordlessly, you reach out and let your hands ghost over his scarred chest and arms, down to his fingers that are twitching with need. Letting your fingers drift along the flow of his muscles to the point of each thumb, and then you let your touch jump to the sensitive skin just above the band of his pants. Your gaze commits wherever you touch to memory as you lean forward and kiss the hardened muscles rippling over his ribs. Jo releases a low hiss of air as he cards his fingers in your hair, letting one hand move down to cup your cheek and tilt your head back to look at him in his emerald orbs.

“I’m not sure you needed me to teach you much,” teasing, as he caresses the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. Pursing your lips, you gently kiss the digit before taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it as your eyes become half lidded. Jo’s mouth falls open in awe as he watches you work his thumb in your mouth - it’s not long before his hardened length is straining against his cotton pants to get to you. Then, a thought comes to the forefront of his mind, and he can’t bring himself to filter it. 

“Can you do that to my cock?” He whispers huskily, electric lime green eyes gleaming salaciously. Your eyes brighten as you release his thumb and nod up at him eagerly, which only causes him to grab your face in his hands to capture your mouth in a sloppy kiss. You have no idea what you’re doing to me, musing silently to himself as he releases your cheeks and starts undoing the string of his pants.

As they slacken around his waist and he lets them fall away from his twitching length, you feel your mouth fall open in shock from the sheer size. He’s long with considerable girth, thick veins running from the base to the thick mushroom head that’s leaking a drop of precum. Jo watches your expression intently and feels all the blood rush downward as shiny drool collects at the corner of your mouth while you wrap one delicate hand around the base. Slowly, you run your hand lightly from the base to just below the tip and then back down - feeling him - as you lean forward and lick the drop of precum with the tip of your tongue.

Staring down the task at hand, you can feel your nerves getting the better of you as you don’t really know how to proceed. Jo picks up on your uncertainty as he reaches out to cup your cheek again, drawing his thumb over the apple of it as he brings your gaze back to his face. A gentle smile plays on his lips and a notch has formed in his brow, but his eyes are so kind that his whole expression just exudes care.

“It’s alright. I’m supposed to teach you, right?” He asks reassuringly, and you nod up at him earnestly. His smile grows as he gently wraps one of his large hands around yours that’s holding his length - closing your hand tighter around him. “If you haven’t wet it yet, then wrap your hand around it like this and then move it like this,” he says as he starts pumping your hand around him at an even pace. Like a good student, you nod along with his instructions as your eyes dart between the task and his expression changing to pleasure. After a few moments for you to get the hang of the motion, Jo guides your lips to the tip of his cock with the hand still cupping your cheek.

“Now, can you start by kissing it like you did with my thumb?” Asking breathily, and you waste no time placing a loving kiss to his tip, letting his precum smear over your lips while your eyes stay glued to his darkening ones. Without further instruction, you take the whole head of his member into your hot mouth and begin swirling your tongue around it - licking up the precum as you do. As your tongue slides along the underside of his tip, Jo’s breath hitches in his throat and your eyes widen in excitement as you do it again - gaining the same reaction. He watches your eyes take on a mischievous hue and he immediately presses his thumb into your cheek as he grins down at you.

“A little eager aren’t we?” Laughing deeply at you, causing him to twitch in your hand and mouth - only making your core clench as your excitement grows, shown in your heated gaze. Jo laughs heartily again with a shake of his head as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “God, you’re gonna give me a heart attack if you keep this up,” he scoffs warmly. Then, he wraps his fingers around the back of your head and pulls gently until you’re sitting up on your knees while you peer up at him expectantly. Using his hand wrapped around yours, he moves it down to hold the base of his cock. 

“Can you take more in your mouth?” He murmurs, and you only smile up at him around his head before allowing more saliva to collect in your mouth and slide as much of him in as you can. Surprisingly, your lips kiss his fingers wrapped around yours at his base as your spit coats his veiny girth and dribbles down over both of your hands. Jo cards his fingers into your hair and slowly guides you head backwards while you keep your lips sealed around him until just his head is in your mouth again. Again, your eyes remain glued to his face the whole time as you watch his expression change - verdurous eyes and mouth falling shut as a crease forms in his brow and a shaky breath tumbles from his lips, ruffling your hair softly. Eyes cracking open, he peers down at you as if you were some kind of salvation as he guides your mouth back down his length until your lips meet his knuckles again.

“Just like that,” breathing out as his pastoral orbs stay transfixed on you. Keeping a slow pace, he guides your warm, wet mouth up and down his length over and over as he watches drool dribble down your chin and your eyes become watery. Still, you let your saliva continue slicking his member, even pulling back slightly to spit on his tip before wrapping your mouth around him securely again.

“Yeah, don’t be afraid to get it wet, good girl.” Groaning softly as his eyes fall shut again while his fingers grip your hair tighter and he slowly picks up speed - thrusting his hips gently into your mouth as well. 

Suddenly, his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag quietly. Immediately, Jo halts all his movements as he lessens his grip in your hair, and stares down at you with a concerned expression. “Sorry, I got a little carried away,” he admits sheepishly. “Are you okay?” Asking softly as he pulls his tip out of your mouth, but you just blink up at him in confusion.

“I’m fine,” you say quickly as you wipe the spit from your chin and tilt your head into his hand. “I think you’re just a bit bigger than my mouth,” you giggle quietly, and Jo breathes out a chuckle of relief.

“We can stop if you wan-” he starts to offer, but you quickly shake your head at him as a crease forms in your brow and your lips pull into a pout. Jo can’t help but titter at your reaction as his cock twitches approvingly and his cheeks redden slightly from your eagerness.

“I just need to know how to take more of you…” speaking matter of factly, like this was one of those arithmetic problems that made you really have to think. At that Jo folds in half with laughter as he presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head. Ruffling your hair with his breath as he straightens again and grins down at you with a prideful gleam in his green eyes.

“I didn’t know my wife was such an overachiever,” teasing as he tightens his grip around your hand again and your pulse thrums in your throat with excitement. Bringing his tip back to your lips, you swiftly wrap your mouth around him again, and Jo begins moving your head once again to wet him completely. “Alright, I’m gonna move your hand like this,” he flattens your palm to his pelvis so the base of his cock is securely held in the notch between your thumb and index finger.

“Now, when you feel my tip hit the back of your throat you’re gonna wanna breathe through your nose like before, flatten your tongue a bit and try to relax your throat,” instructing as his tip begins nudging the back of your throat. Following his instructions as you’re able to get another inch down. “Good, just like that,” he groans softly as his fingers laid over yours twitch. “Now, just keep doing that until you get comfortable with it,” he whispers as you repeat the same action until your lips are able to kiss the back of his hand and your throat feels impossibly full.

“Okay, now just stay there for a moment to get used to it,” murmuring softly as he grips the back of your head lightly to hold you in place. “Focus on your breathing,” he advises when you squirm slightly, and after you force air through your nose he slowly pulls you back - but only halfway this time. 

Repeating this process at a slow pace has Jo breathing unevenly above you and his fingers twitching in your soft locks. Then, as you grow more comfortable with taking him fully down your throat, he starts picking up the pace gradually. As you get comfortable with it, he begins thrusting lightly causing his thighs to shake as he grows closer to climax. His cock twitches once against your tongue as he moans, “Fuck Y/N, I’m gonna cum, can I-” but his words are cut off with a shuddering moan.

You know what he’s asking for though as you lean forward to take more of him in your mouth, and that’s all the confirmation he needs as he stills completely, holding his hips flush to your lips as spurts of his hot seed shoot down your throat. Moaning softly around him as his release slows sends a shockwave of trembles through his taut muscles as he pulls you back and swiftly bends down to slot his lips with yours.

Growing feral again from tasting himself on your lips and tongue as he devours your mouth - moving his hand that was covering yours to cup your other cheek as he pushes you back into the covers. Wasting no time as he kicks his pants off his legs and onto the floor before letting his body lay flush against yours - his half hard cock pressing snugly against your clit. Swirling his wet muscle in your mouth, mixing both of your saliva with his cum, has you moaning wantonly into his mouth as he rolls his hips against your thrumming cunt.

Parting from the kiss with a gasping moan as your arch into him gives Jo the opportunity to descend on your trembling form with ravenous mouth. Making his way down to your thighs, he parts them and lifts your legs onto his shoulders as he begins placing sloppy kisses along the insides of your thighs.

“J-Jo, what are you do-doing?” Murmuring nervously as you try to scoot up the bed, but he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls your slick folds closer to his mouth - trapping you in place - as he grins wide up at you. 

“All questions will be answered at the end of this lesson,” he teases, warm breath fanning your folds causing you to twitch in his hold. All protests are swiftly forgotten as a gasp is ripped from your throat as Jo licks a firm stripe through your folds. Wanton cries tumble from your mouth as you grasp desperately at the sheets while his tongue maps over your glistening lips, circles your clit, and then teases your entrance before repeating the same actions - driving you absolutely mad.

“Jo! Please ‘s t’much!” Whining out as you card your fingers through his hair and try to pull him up, but your husband’s strength isn’t just fabled since he doesn’t budge even an inch. Instead, his tongue swirls at your entrance before pushing past the ring of muscle there to eagerly plunge into your gummy walls. Vibrations are sent from your core, up your ribs to the very ends of your hair as he groans deeply from your taste. 

Jo absolutely devours you, filling the room with the most lewd and salacious slurping sounds as he drinks you whole. Arousal coats your pulsing cunt, his mouth and chin, your thighs as well as the sheets underneath you by now. At some point your desperate attempts to pull him off have turned into you gripping his hair securely for leverage as you buck your hips against his heaven sent tongue to chase your release. Jo just grins approvingly against your drooling pussy as he sticks out his tongue flat to get you a little closer to your climax.

When a frustrated sob leaves your lips, Jo finally takes pity on you as he pulls back - shushing your protests of displeasure with a gentle kiss to your clit - as he positions one of his hands at your core. A pleased sigh bubbles to your lips as he begins teasing your fluttering hole with one thick digit. Slowly sliding it inside and curling it once, twice, and then he starts pumping it in and out with languid strokes. Bringing his grinning lips back to your bundle of nerves, he wraps them around it and alternates between sucking and swirling his tongue. 

Once your fingers are gripping his raven locks again and you're bucking your hips vigorously - trying to ride his digit - he stealthily slides a second digit in and starts pumping a little faster. Throwing in a scissoring motion occasionally to help stretch you out. As your thighs tighten around his head, every muscle in your body taut as you cusp your orgasm, Jo switches from pumping to holding his hand palm up with the two digits together and performing a ‘come hither’ motion. The tips of his calloused fingers prod at a spongy spot in your core that causes tears to brim in your eyes just before your vision goes white. Sucking on your clit more insistently causes stars to begin bursting behind your eyes as an electric current of pleasure travels from deep in your core out through your veins until you’re a drooling, shaking mess. Jo doesn’t stop his movements, but gradually slows them until your crying moans have become uneven breathing. Slowly removing his fingers from your core, and taking the time to lick your sweet arousal from his hand and face before crawling up your body to lay next to you and tuck you securely against his side.

“Any questions?” Inquiring teasingly before placing a loving kiss to your temple, and you tiredly shake your head - only now just catching your breath. “You taste absolutely divine…” he muses softly, looking up at the canopy above. “I’d almost believe you’re a nymph or something… humans just don’t taste that good.” Chuckling in disbelief as his emerald gaze meets your bashful one - a blush burning your face up to the tips of your ears.

“I almost feel bad,” he continues in a gravelly tone as he reaches over to caress your jaw with his thumb. “Fruits and sweet things get scarce here during the winter - I’ll have you to get me through - but I’ll have to figure out where to import them from so you'll have something to get you through too.” Murmuring softly as he presses a kiss to your reddened forehead. After a moment of stunned silence on your part, you finally speak up in a stilted voice.

“I-I don’t re-really like sweets all that mu-much…” you say slowly and Jo opens his mouth to apologize - worried that he ruined the mood. “Bu-but you ta-taste really good to-too… S-so, you’ll be mo-more than enough to ge-get me thro-through…” Stuttering out timidly as you hide against his chest bashfully, still not used to trading compliments in this manner yet. Jo’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise before his chest starts shaking violently under you with stifled laughter as you peer up at him in shock. He’s covering his mouth with one hand and looking down at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

“My little wife - fiery and meek - which one I’ll get from one moment to the next is surprising to say the least.” Musing with sparkling green eyes as he guides your lips - parted from shock - to his so he can ravage your mouth once again. Running his hands over your soft curves to squeeze the fat of your hips as he moves to hover over you again. Sliding his large frame between your parted thighs, he parts from the kiss to lean back on his heels and stare down at your flushed body - open and eager for him. Slowly, he dips down to place open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as he expertly lines his tip up with your leaking entrance. With a slow roll of his hips, Jo’s hardened cock stretches you oh so deliciously. Your velvety walls pulse and clench around him with each inch you take until he’s completely bottomed out, his hips flush with yours.

Despite his hulking form, Jo uses the lightest of touches to guide your thighs as far apart as possible to accommodate his imposing build. Leaving one hand securely on your hip, he brings the other up to brush the hair from your face before lovingly cupping your cheek. Pressing his lips to yours to take your mind off the substantial stretch as you lean into his hand more and will yourself to relax around him. After several moments of adjusting and tender kisses, Jo looks at you with a question in his gaze: ‘are you ready?’ 

With a sure nod and a small smile, he takes the initiative to start moving. As slowly as possible, he drags his hips back until only his tip is still snugly within your walls and then he sheaths himself again with a gentle roll of his hips. Wrapping your hands tightly around his biceps, you hold on tightly until the stretched feeling subsides into one that feels more like gliding. Jo keeps the same pace until your grip on his arms lessens to you gently caressing his muscles as your soft breathing transforms into quiet moans.

Gradually, picking up his pace until the room is filled with the sound of wet skin slapping together as he thrusts into you powerfully. The soft moans that flowed from your lips so sweetly have now become desperate cries interspersed with screams of his name. Keeping a firm grip on your hip so you’re tethered to the bed as he uses the hand on your cheek to tilt your head - revealing more of your throat to him. Dipping his lips closer, he latches onto the crook of your neck as he nips and licks at the sensitive skin until a darkened mark appears. 

Readjusting his hand on your hip slightly so he’s able to press his calloused thumb into your clit, pushing you closer and closer to your climax. Electric shocks of pleasure build in your lower belly causing your gummy walls to clench around Togame’s hardened, twitching member. Hissing into your neck as your walls tighten around him, and your nails drag across his flesh as your back arches off the bed. 

Suddenly the building tension in your lower belly snaps as your senses are flooded with unbridled euphoria and all of your muscles go taught. At the same moment, Togame stills above you - lithe body tense - as you feel his length twitch against that spongy spot deep within your walls, sending overstimulating pulses through you. A warm, full sensation fills your core as his white ropes paint your walls. Then, he lowers himself on top of you - keeping the majority of his weight on his forearms - as you both catch your breath against each other's damp necks.

Once you’ve both come down from your highs, he readjusts to lay beside you - pulling you flush to his chest. Gently he smooths down your hair before peppering kisses to your forehead, over your temple and cheek, down your jaw, the column of your throat to pause at your collarbone and lightly nibble the flesh there. Your soft breathing crescendos into whines until Togame releases a gentle titter against your skin before pulling back to regard your pleasurably exhausted expression with a soft one of his own. 

“So?” Breathing out with a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “How was that for your first lesson?” Teasing you lightly with a subtle arch of his brow, viridescent eyes glinting carnally down at you.

“Mmmm,” humming quietly as you return a lazy smile. “Good, but I think I’ll need a refresher tomorrow,” murmuring quietly as you gently caress his chest with your fingertips. Togame releases a low chuckle before pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Of course. I’ll make it an all day lesson if you’d like,” he muses against your forehead. Breath ruffling your hair with a soft chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest to your fingertips comfortingly. Humming back in agreement with a gentle smile gracing your lips as you press them to his hardened chest. A pregnant pause passes filled with just the sound of quiet breathing.

“I’m grateful to Y/N - you’re braver than me.” Vulnerable verdant eyes meet yours as Togame’s gentle words cut through the room. Blinking up at him in surprise, but before you can speak he abruptly utters, “I love you.”

His expression was so open and vulnerable, but apprehensive at the same time - as if he were readying himself to be stabbed by you - but his eyes held no lie, so you knew his words were true. Oh so slowly you reach up to cup his cheek and caress the apple of it with the pad of your thumb.

“I love you too, Jo.” Murmuring in a genuine tone as your eyes glint with newfound devotion for your husband. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he turns his head into your hand to press his lips to your wrist. No more words are exchanged for the night as a comforting silence falls over the room and you both curl into each other. After some time, his breathing slows, and gradually yours does too as you drift off to sleep in your husband’s loving embrace.

Obligatory: I have no rights to these characters or the works they come from, or any of the art, manga panels or screenshots used in these posts. If you liked this, then here's my Master List to peruse!

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Jerry Stokes - Champion Card Player and Professional Goober

Jerome “Jerry” Titus Stokes Jr. [10/02/80] [6'0. Yes, Bill is mad about this.] Secretary of Fantasy and Role-Playing Games AOL / Online Users: [XxLordxXxAtrocityxX] Theme Songs: Chronically Cautious - Braden Bales | Undone - The Sweater Song - Weezer | Polygon Dust - Porter Robinson Favorite Shit: Middle-Earth, Magic Cards, Percentile Dice, He-Man, Final Fantasy, Dragons, Tabletop Gaming, Conan, Studio Ghibli, Discworld, LARPs, Legend of Zelda, Earthsea, Yawgmoth’s Will, Gen-con, Xena, Aerith Gainsborough, Elfquest, White Magic

Therapy, check. Meds, check. Keys, check. Godsend Card Wars deck, check. EXTRA Card Wars deck in case some fucker tries to one up him, check... shit what is he forgetting *now*? It took him growing a backbone and his parents to finally get his ass to the doctor, but hey, at least he's here now, right??? right????? He's still trying to get Bill to come with him to the office to deal with his anger issues but it's like trying to climb Mordor bro; not gonna happen any time soon.

He's managed to make some new friends in the process, who knew?! Actually going to tournaments is so much more fun than just following Bill around all day--

I have the Power!

Jerry used to take Piano, as his parents tried to get him into as many extra curriculars when he was in elementary as they could to get him out of their hair (And.. hey, at least he learned something..?)

Because of this, he occasionally plays by himself on the practice piano he got as a kid, though usually it's just him learning soundtracks or transcribing the entirety the Ocarina of Time by ear.

y'know. normal everyday shit.

He has a habit of forgetting to trim his nails, however he keeps them relatively neat-- filed down and this dude actually showers and washes his hands like a maniac if he gets dirty, so it's not that bad. Plus, he's convinced it helps him pick up cards better without folding them.

Let's be honest, Jerry forgets a lot of things sometimes in his anxious scramble to get places. Including meals on occasion, which usually results in Josh jumping him as an excuse to get another snack for them both.

Would be willing to have his nails painted, absolutely, but will probably pick it off within the day as a fidget. Sorry guys.

Jerry met Matt at a Card tournament and they became rather quick friends-- and Matt whooped his ass when they played so he had to give the guy some props.

This dude gets the WORST bedhead and he barely does anything about it, just don't make fun of him if his hair is flat in the back please please please--

Jerry. Likes. Stripes. I feel like his mom dressed him up as the Girl who got sick with the Stripes once when he was a toddler cause he got covered in paint and it just *stuck*.

Jerry has also worn the same style of shoe and brand for the past 15 years he's not gonna start changing it now, fuckers

Can you tell he has a separation issue? no? then open your EYES.

This man absolutely gets ass his phone and aol are blowing UP like ALL THE FUCKIN TIME and he's so overwhelmed that he just ignores them all most of the time. most.

He ends up mostly subsisting off of tournament winnings and doing random odd jobs around the neighborhood, but at least it's enough to get him more cards and a bus ticket into Manhattan when he needs it.

Jerry still goes Bee-dee Bee-dee, he doesn't drop it entirely until post 2005-ish, when he meets Mandi. He DOES however, still use Buck as a nickname, cope. it's my world now.

cough uh he hates the feeling of underwear. those are basketball shorts. OOPS

god I love Jerry he's such a little dork

OKAY JOSHYBEAR IS NEXT Im gonna sob I also still have to draw May and Matt's cards...

fyuck

[harryforvogue]

a fic about harry and faye where faye needs to be picked up because it's snowed so bad and also she's feeling very very needy. has smut so be careful. or not. do whatever you like. DO leave feedback though or else i will fucking haunt you

***

Faye calls Harry at around 6pm.

He’s asleep, his iPad abandoned by his side with the pen still between his fingertips. He doesn’t know what time he dozed off, but he’s got to thank Faye for the portable heater she bought him for Christmas. It’s magnificent.

Getting himself out of bed to reach for his phone is difficult. When he finally manages, the only thing that makes him pick up is Faye’s photo.

He brings it to his ear. “Hi, baby.”

Immediately, he can hear the frown in her voice. “Oh no. I woke you up.”

“It’s all right,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to sleep anyways. I’ll barely get a few hours at night if I nap now.” He brings his phone back to his bed and sits down. “What’s up?”

“Um, well I just finished rehearsals.”

“Yeah? That’s good. Got out early?”

“Yes, it’s snowing pretty bad now.”

“Mm, is it?” He forces himself to get back up and take a peek out his curtains. She’s right; the snow lays on the roads, flurries all around still. “You wanna stay on the phone with me until you get home?”

“That’s kind of the thing. I’ve been at this bus stop for 15 minutes and my app keeps saying the bus is about to come, but the roads aren’t properly cleared so I don’t think it’s coming.”

Harry frowns. “You’re outside?”

“Yeah. I walked to the stop, but it’s like a ghost town here. Nobody’s out driving. The buses may have all been canceled.”

“Oh shit. Are you wearing warm clothes? Gloves and all?”

“Yup.”

“Good. Which stop are you at today? I’ll come get you.”

There’s instant relief in her voice. “Thank you.” She tells him which stop and then sighs softly. “It’s not that cold which is good. I suppose I should sit down on the bench but there’s ice on it and I already slipped while walking here. My butt still hurts.”

Harry groans as he tugs his jacket on and grabs an extra beanie. He shoves his feet into his shoes and grabs his keys. “Don’t tell me that,” he says. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Faye laughs. “I’m okay.”

“Think you can hold on for 15 minutes?”

“Yes, but Harry you have to drive safely, okay? The inner roads aren’t cleared at all.”

Harry sticks a piece of gum in his mouth. “Yeah, love, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

“Wanna stay on the phone with me?”

“Um, I would, but I can barely feel my fingers.”

Harry has to groan again. He’s outside now and thankfully his car isn’t looking too bad. He’ll still need to defrost it a bit. “Faye, you just told me you had gloves!”

“Whoops.”

“Okay, I’m going to hang up, but please try to get warm. Go into one of those shops nearby.”

“The only shop open near me is the chicken shop.”

“Go in there.”

“I don’t like the smell of chicken.”

“I must say that you are insanely difficult today.”

Faye giggles. “I’m not.” She must hear him turn his ignition on. “Okay, bye now. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

She hangs up. Harry has to step out of the car with his snow brush, pushing his way over to clean his windshields. He’s blasting the heat on the inside, and within ten minutes, he’s ready to go. When he gets back in his car, he’s muttering swears, trembling with the cold. “Not that cold, my ass.”

And Faye’s right. The inner roads are horrendous. He drives so below the speed limit, he may as well walk to get her. 15 minutes turn into 20 and by the time he’s pulling up to her bus stop, he’s very worried Faye may be a frozen block of ice. 

Faye wobbles her way over to the car, yanking the door open and all but throwing herself inside. She’s shivering so bad, Harry puts the car in park and reaches over the console to hug her tightly.

“For fuck’s sake, Faye,” he mutters, suppressing a shiver at her cold face pressed into his neck. “I told you to go into the shop!”

“If y-you made me wait any longer, I would have!”

“I drove as fast as I could.”

Harry turns the heat up higher and rubs her arms firmly, trying to get her tight muscles to relax. She’s wearing a winter jacket, yes, but her head is uncovered and she doesn’t even have a scarf. He pulls back to look at her, hoping there’s disappointment on his face. But Faye’s eyes just light up and then she’s lifting her head to get a kiss.

He can’t say no.

He cups her face and softly kisses her. Her lips are cold, but he can still taste the cherry chapstick as if she kept reapplying it every few minutes. She kisses him several more times, but when she places her frozen hands on his neck, he pulls away sharply.

“Faye!” He holds his neck as if wounded. “That’s so cold!”

Faye’s knees bounce. “Sorry!"

She doesn’t look sorry.

He grabs the beanie he’s brought her and throws it onto her head. Her bangs get caught on her forehead, momentarily blinding her, and she laughs, fixing the hat. Her black hair frames her cheeks. She reaches in for another kiss, but Harry stops her with a shake of his head.

“Get warm first. Or else you’ll get hypothermia and then I’ll have nobody to kiss.”

Faye says, “Wow you sound a lot like me.” She holds her trembling hands by the vents, shivering so bad, she’s compelled to make audible noises to show how cold she is, her jaw quivering. Harry starts driving the car again, and once he gets off the main street, he reaches for her hand and holds it in his lap.

“How were rehearsals?”

“Okay,” she says, shoulders shaking. “Maybe people couldn’t come in today because of the snow. I had to do, like, three roles.”

“Opening night is next month, right?”

“Yup. I got you your tickets.”

Harry kisses the back of her hand, squeezing her pale fingertips hard. She's painted her nails dark blue, he notices. “Thank you. Are you hungry?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s get something to eat then. I don’t have anything at home. Didn’t cook today.”

“Oh. Are we going to yours?”

“Yes.”

“Can I stay over?”

Harry smiles. “Yes.”

“Is Timmy home?”

“Nope.”

“Can we play that video game again?”

Harry sends her a look. “I thought you’d want to watch a movie or something.”

“Well, if you want to. But I had a lot of fun playing that game.”

“Yes, you were so good at it.”

She was not. Harry spent the entire night trying to save her, getting himself killed, and then yelling and begging her to stay alive until he could be revived. Faye had a lot of fun it seems, though Harry wouldn’t say it was a very productive night.

But, if she wants to do it, then they will.

“I feel like I’ll be better tonight,” Faye says, leaning forward to put her face against the air vent. Her eyes flutter shut. “We’ll get to the next level.”

“You mean level two.”

She laughs.

Harry’s pulling up to the take out shop they’ve agreed on when his phone goes off. He answers it on the car’s speakerphone.

“Yeah, mate?”

“Hey,” Timothée’s voice rings out. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m with Faye picking up food.”

“Oh cool. Hey, can you pick me up from the shop, man? My car’s fucking buried.”

Harry sighs. “Yeah, that’s fine. When are you off work?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, I’ll get you.”

“Cool, and hey–”

“Yeah?”

“Can you grab me some food? I’ll pay you back.”

Harry says, “I’ll think about it.”

There’s silence on the other line until Timmy says, “Faye?”

She leans in. “Yeah?”

“Can you make sure he gets me food? I’ll Venmo you right now.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks. Bye!” And then he hangs up.

Harry rubs his eye and then unbuckles his seat belt. Faye goes to do the same, but he stops her, shaking his head. “No, you need to stay warm.”

“I’m fine!”

“Nope.” He locks the car after opening his door and gives her a meaningful look. She watches him disappear into the shop.

When he comes back, he thinks she’s looking a lot better. The red in her cheeks has returned and she’s reapplying her chapstick without shaking fingers. He leans over and kisses her, pleased that her lips aren’t frozen anymore. Unexpectedly, she holds onto his collar and kisses him harder, and she doesn’t let him go until he’s chuckling against her lips and trying to pry away.

“What’s gotten into you?” he murmurs, peppering kisses down to her jaw. She shivers, but not from the cold this time.

“Just missed you.”

“Mm.” He kisses her cheek. “I missed you too.”

It’s a lot harder to drive after that, especially because Harry’s hand rests on Faye’s thigh, and she keeps playing with his fingers, occasionally pulling his hand up to kiss his palm. 

When they get to the shop, Timmy rushes into the car and slaps a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Thank you, man. This is great. Thanks. Hey, Faye.”

“Hi.”

“You’re coming over?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Did you get me any food?”

“Yes we did.” She hands him the aux cord when he asks for it. They listen to his odd taste in music for the ride home.

Harry takes Faye up to his room when they get home. Timmy’s nearly falling asleep so he eats his food quietly and then heads to his own room with a reminder through the walls that he’d appreciate it if Harry and Faye kept it down.

Faye says, “I don’t know why he always says that,” as she’s climbing into Harry’s lap on his bed in his shirt only. He looks up at her, eyes shining, his hands resting just below her butt. She wraps her arms around his neck. “We’ve never been that loud.”

“I mean I certainly haven’t,” Harry teases, pulling her down onto his thighs.

“Me neither!”

“Sure.”

Faye can’t come up with a response, so she kisses him, and then turns around in his lap, back pressed to his warm, strong chest. He places his hand on her thigh, holding her to him. As he’s setting up the game, she reaches over and grabs his iPad, turning it on to see his latest sketch.

It’s a very daunting looking dragon with detailed wings and scales. She zooms in to see all of it, thoroughly impressed. “This is so cool, Harry!”

“Yeah? Thanks, baby. Had a client say she wanted a big dragon piece so I’ve been brainstorming.”

“Where does she want it?”

“Around her bicep.”

“It must hurt like crazy.”

Harry hooks his chin over her shoulder and hugs her tight to him. “Yeah, but as long as they’re happy with it, right?”

She turns her head to look at him with her devastatingly pretty eyes. “Have you done any cool ones this week?”

He makes a show of thinking really hard. “Did a decent snake two days ago.”

“Ooh. Will you post the pictures?”

“Yeah. Haven’t had the time to.”

Faye cradles his face and kisses his cheek. “I’ll be the first person to like it.”

“You always are,” he murmurs, tilting his head back so she can continue her kisses down his neck.

His eyes flutter shut as Faye’s hands run over his arms, gently pressing herself back against him. He feels her breath hitch.

“Faye,” he softly admonishes. “You said you wanted to play the game.” 

“It’s still loading,” she whispers back, shaking him off to be able to turn in his arms again. The force she kisses him with throws him off. He’s pushed back, hands flying out to steady himself against his mattress. She wraps her legs around him and kisses him breathless, her fingers trailing up the sides of his head and then burying themselves into his curls. She presses herself against him again, and then she gently licks at him. Harry welcomes her tongue when he parts his lips.

She kisses him like she hasn’t been kissed properly in years – which is simply untrue because he kisses her until she forgets her name on a routined basis. Faye presses herself even closer, and when the first whine leaves her throat, Harry’s arms are around her, dragging her hips against his. She sighs as if that small contact between them has caused her such release.

The TV makes a noise to tell them the game has finished loading. Faye’s mouth shows no signs of letting him up. Harry pulls up for a second to breathe, and then kisses her again, leaning into her with his hands spread out against her back. They stay there until he’s sliding his fingers under his shirt that she wears, slowly pushing her until she’s laying on her back and Harry’s hovering over her.

“The game,” he whispers.

“Hm?” she manages, rolling her hips against his again, her eyes both innocent and flirty.

He breathes out a swear and then works on pulling the shirt off of her. Faye shivers immediately, but he kisses down her neck and collarbones to warm her up, letting her adjust when she catches onto what he wants to do. She slides back and lets him move further down her body.

“Harry–”

“Yes, baby?”

She changes her mind when Harry’s fingers hook into her underwear. “Oh. Oh, nothing.”

“Tell me,” he says, dragging them down. 

“Well, it’s only that I thought I’d do this for you. Because you, um, picked me up and I wanted to thank you.”

Harry chuckles. “You can do that after this, but right now I have a feeling you’re going to explode if I don’t touch you. Care to tell me what’s got you so worked up? I fucked you so well just two days ago.”

Faye throws a hand over her eyes and Harry doesn’t know if it’s because she’s forced to answer his question while unclothed or if it’s his words that embarrass her. Possibly both.

“It’s because you came to get me and your voice was so deep and raspy and tired and your hand on my thigh and–”

Harry situates himself between her legs and lets her knees come up besides his head. He kisses her soft inner thighs and wraps his arms around them. Faye lifts her head to glance down at him and then moans softly when he licks into her. Slowly. Teasingly.

Her black hair is fanned out around her, her breath coming hard and fast. Her lips are parted, pink and swollen from their kisses. She looks ruined already. Harry will never get used to the sight. He never wants to.

“Fuck,” she whimpers, throwing her head down. Her eyes flutter shut as Harry leans in and takes over completely, his skilled mouth ruthless against her. His fingers dig into her hips, holding her down though she desperately raises herself to meet his mouth.

“Oh, I love you,” she whispers, threading her fingers into his hair. “So much.”

He sucks and licks and laps diligently until her back is gently arching off his mattress and she has to bite down on her knuckles to keep her noises in. Seeing her like this turns Harry on, his body on alert. He feels like every cell of his body has been electrified, but despite his arousal, all he wants is for Faye to fall apart against him.

It doesn’t take her long. Her thighs tremble. She cries out and yanks his hair. The pain is distant to him. Harry lets her use his tongue to ride out her high, and when she’s done, she’s whimpering from sensitivity. Harry only pulls away when she’s whining, “Ah, okay, okay, that’s it, please. No more.”

He grins at her, gently wiping the corners of his mouth. “Always so good for me.”

Faye covers her face. Harry helps her back into her clothes and then lays beside her until she’s ready to turn to him and kiss him. He kisses her hair. “My darling girl,” he whispers. “My baby. So perfect."

She’s straddling him before five minutes are up, her hands resting on his chest, hair falling like curtains around her flushed face. The strands hit Harry’s cheek. His hands are on her thighs again, and he’s smiling lazily at her.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, running his hand up to her waist. 

Faye swallows and grinds down on his length through his sweatpants. “My turn?”

“We can take a break if you w–”

“No,” she says immediately, fingers already pulling Harry’s shirt up. Her eyes hungrily take in every tattoo she slowly reveals. Harry lifts his head to pull the shirt off.

Faye seems to have something in mind already. So Harry just lets her undress him, enjoying the kisses she trails after her hands. She has plenty of energy, preferring to stay on top of him instead of switching back over. 

She works herself over him until she’s throwing her head back and nearly sobbing with relief. Harry watches the pleasure roll over her, her hands in tight fists against his chest. 

“I love you,” she says again, taking deep breaths when it’s over. Her face is a gentle pink, her chest flushed. “I love you so bad, Harry.”

Once he’s pulled out of her, he’s grabbing her waist and pulling her down to him, wrapping his arms around her tight. “I love you,” he says, kissing all over her face, wiping the corners of her eyes. “My pretty girl, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Spent, Faye lets him cuddle her, her face pressed against his neck. His body is warm and as comforting as always. He mutters how much he loves her several more times.

Some time later again, Faye raises her head from his chest and says in her scratchy voice, “Should we play now?”

And Harry kisses her and says, “Yes, baby.”

[kokoa-la]

Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username

Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm. 

He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was  pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall. 

“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”

On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.

“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”

What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library. 

“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”

That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”

Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much. 

“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”

Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist. 

“I did it!”

He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid. 

“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”

Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?

“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.” 

The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?

“Uhm, no I didn’t.”

Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute. 

“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”

“Wait, you’re not a student here?”

“That’d only be true if you were lying.”

“Well I’m not so-”

“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”

“Look dude-”

“Jason.”

“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”

“Look Danny-”

“How do you know my name?”

“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”

Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.

“Maybe over a coffee?”

He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse. 

[nrdmssgs]

Honestly need some nikto being violently concerned over readers health after they came home from a bar all far too loopy and delirious to be normal drunk if you're comfortable with that if you're not that's fine

Masterlist I hope, I got you right.

TW: mention of drug poisoning (no graphical depictions)

He never questioned your loyalty. Nikto may be a territorial animal, but he never doubted you. Others however...

"He-heeey, `m fine! C-can do it on my own," you babble, as you push away his hands and try to untie your shoelaces. If he was concerned before, just witnessing you entering home - now Nikto starts seeing red.

Because how you move and talk is so not you. Nikto saw you tipsy before, once you two even had obviously too much, and he remembered, how you were back then. Silly, yes, soft and mushy, a tad bratty, tired, but still crazy - this all was natural. And now a strange shiver runs all over your body every five minutes.

Oh no, this is not an early hungover. This and the fact, that you spent the last 15 minutes sitting in a hallway, untying and tying your shoes again and again. He sighs and descends on his knees before you. Catches your hands and presses his lips against your knuckles.

"I will help, little one."

You manage exactly one sound: a weak little mewl of protest. But Andre slowly shakes his head, looking you in the eyes and repeats: I. Will. Help.

You finally give in under his intense, and, for a reason unknown to you, concerned gaze. His movements are so careful as if hes undressing a porcelain doll. You smile and giggle, asking him to stop tickling you every time his fingers clasp around your ankles.

It breaks his heart, because he actually barely touched you. Your senses are a mess, your body is not ok, your mind... And what is about your mind?

"Sokrovishche*, tell me, how the evening went? Had fun?" Nikto is a shitty actor, his voice barely masks the fact, that he can barely think straight himself. But you seem to not notice that, because you answer lightheartedly, while he carries you to the bedroom.

Your story is hectic, and the jerky narration doesn't help it: you jump from one topic to another, mix up names and facts. But it's your sincerity that tears him apart - you're not trying to trick Nikto, you're confused and lost.

There is one particular detail reappearing in your story: a guy. You try and try again to remember his face or the name at least, but fail and start worrying.

"It's ok, if you don't remember. Tell us, what you've been drinking, mm? Something tasty?"

Tell us. A bad omen. A terrible one. It's been a while since the last time, the voices have woken up. But you miss this detail, as you miss every second word shared now.

"A glass of wine. Then a glass of water, then again the wine, the same one. After that I got thirsty once again, asked for water, he brought me a bottle, it was sealed, I remember. And then... And then I d-d-ont..." Your eyes widen slowly.

Niktos jaw clenches, a cold light grows stronger deep in pale blue eyes. That scum. Sealed bottles? So he cooks a batch prior to his night out, somewhere in his place...

"Andre, did I?... How long? What did he..." You can't finish any question, your tongue suddenly feels too big and heavy to form a full sentence. In a desperate attempt to catch a breath, you take an inhale, but your breaths grow ragged. Not even noticing this, you start hyperventilating.

He gathers you into his arms, engulfs your body in a warm embrace, hides your face on his chest and softly rocks you back and forth, helping you find a soothing breathing rhythm.

"Vsye khorosho, sokrovishche. You're safe, we promise. No bruises left. He didn't touch you."

When Nikto touches his lips to your forehead, it’s so gentle and careful, one wouldn't believe, such a beast is capable to be this soft. He is easing you into the feel of him as his hands, holding you steady. There may be no bruises, but there can still be other things, your mind has blocked, but your body remembers.

He rocks you against him, breathing in time with him, the measure of his heart a steady clip that you can follow with measured steps. He and every voice awaken thank any gods out there, for you don't tense up, squirm and run from his touch. That gives him hope, that the fucker really didn't manage to do anything.

"We will protect my little treasure." He slowly helps you out of your clothes. It's not an act of seduction, but pure manifestation of care.

"We will calm our little one, take all her worries, guard her in her sleep." Warm lips on the back of your neck. Yet again: this is not a foreplay - it is Andre giving you all the care he has. Anything soft, that he is capable of in this deep mad state of mind, belongs to you.

He takes your worries away, lulls you to sleep, interlocking his fingers with yours, buries his face in your hair, letting you drown in his deep bitterish scent and find your peace in his hands.

Nikto may be a crooked soul, a mind damaged, torn to pieces, but for you he will turn into a bastion against all the darkness in the world.

When he is sure, you're deep in your dreams and nothing bothers you anymore - Nikto vanishes for a few hours.

He rarely uses this set, but there is, in fact, an all black tactical attire in his wardrobe. There is rarely a good reason to take it on, but today is the day. Darker wet stains on black won't draw too much attention in the first lights of the dawn.

You wake in a bed that feels too empty and slowly realize, what have happened. What might have happened after you fell asleep. You wait him out, perched on the edge of your seat, watching him shuck off his gear in a deafening silence.

His mind is still out there. Each glance on you feels like he’s entered a prizefighting ring, and you’re the opponent he needs to face off with next. His jaw works, a muscle ticking, and with that particular, quiet sort of menace he’s just so good at leveraging, he holds out a hand for you to come to him. “He won't ever trouble you again.” Level. More controlled than you expected.

Nikto holds back, not letting himself slide his fingers up your arms and thus leave blood strains on your perfect skin. Never. Never should a blood of such a scum besmear his treasure.

Leave the blood of those who wronged you for his hands.

Sokrovishche - treasure

Vsye khorosho, sokrovishche - everything's allright, treasure

[devildomwriter]

Every “I Love You” Vol 1-4

Lucifer

22-C

Lucifer: “I love you. Truly and deeply.”

28-15

Lucifer: “I never knew I could feel this way. I never knew I had such passion inside me. MC…I love you.”

28-19 (2)

Lucifer: “MC, I love you. Well, we may not be on stage now, but I’m happy to say it again. As many times as you’d like. I love you, MC. Truly and deeply…”

38-9

Lucifer: “I love you, MC. Truly. As much as I’d like my memory back, and to remember everything that’s happened, there’s something I want even more… I want to know how you feel about me.”

38-9 (2)

Lucifer: “I love you, too. With all my heart. How many times have I told you that before? Because I want to tell you so many more times that my old self did. …In fact, no matter how many times I might say it, I feel like it will never be enough. I love you, MC. Kiss me. If I told you that I actually feel jealous of the old me, would you laugh…?”

40-22

Lucifer: “I love you, MC. There’s no need to say goodbye. Because we’ll see each other again. Soon.”

41-19

Lucifer: “I love you… It’s strange… We haven’t been apart long at all, yet it feels like it’s been a century. Why is that?”

Mammon

25-17

Mammon: “MC…! You’re the best! You never let me down, and it’s just…amazing! YOU’RE amazing! I love you, MC! More than I’ve ever loved anyone!”

29-12 (2)

Mammon: “I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I CAN’T STAND IIIIT!”

MC: “…?!”

Mammon: “I want to [CENSORED], [CENSORED], and [CENSORED] like there’s no tomorrow!”

33-14

Mammon: “Like, what it I accidentally let it slip that I love you, huh?!”

33-14

Mammon: “I love you so much it’s crazy! Like, so much that my stomach fills with butterflies and my heart jumps out of my chest! I think about you all the time, even when you’re not around! Like, I feel like I’m losin’ my mind!”

33-14

Mammon: “And I like you, MC. …I love you, actually. So, what about you? Come on, say you feel the same way, MC.”

33-14

Mammon: “Yeah…I love you too. Like, so much it’s crazy. I mean I love Lucifer and my other brothers too. I love ‘em to death, honestly. But with you it’s different. It’s special…”

43-15

Mammon: “Dammit! Like I could ever really say that to you! I love you MC! And I’ll NEVER break up with you, okay?! NEVER!”

53-9

Mammon: “I love you, MC! And I’d take you over money any day!”

Leviathan

48-4

Leviathan: “Um…listen, MC… …Thanks. I love you, too. And I really appreciate that you’d say that to me. But that’s also why I want to learn to take pride in myself. Because I want you to love me even more than you already do…”

48-9

Leviathan: “…Ugh, what do I do? I’m not so sure I want to let you go after all. You’d better leave before I change my mind. Oh, but make sure to come back once you’re done with whatever it is, okay? …I love you, MC.”

Satan

21-14

Satan: “Mm, it finally feels real now. You really are back. I love you, MC. Welcome home.”

42-10

Satan: “After all, you already have me. I’m yours, and you’re mine. Isn’t that right? I love you, MC…”

Asmodeus

13-20

Asmodeus: “Hehe, I knew that already. I love you too, MC. Though I think I’d rather have you tell me that while lying next to me in bed.”

19-70

Asmodeus: *sigh* “Oh, wow. All you did was kiss me, and I feel like I’ve died and gone to the Celestial Realm…! I love you, MC… I love you more than anything!

22-10

Asmodeus: “Mmhm… I feel the same way. I love you too, MC. I absolutely adore you!”

31-2

Asmodeus: “Hehe. I love you, MC. So much it’s crazy…”

31-2

Asmodeus: “Oh MC! I love you SO MUCH!”

32-19

Asmodeus: “Whaaat? You mean I can’t kiss you? Ugh, you’re so meeean! Still, I just can’t help loving you! I love you SO MUCH, MC!”

34-1

Asmodeus: “MC, does that mean you believe me? Hehe, you’re absolutely adorable. I love you so much, MC!”

39-18

Asmodeus: “I love you SO MUCH. More than words can describe…”

41-7

Asmodeus: “I love you so much, I can barely contain myself… Ugh, I can’t take this any longer…”

54-1

Asmodeus: “Wait, are you saying I don’t need to use my powers on you? You just find me naturally charming? Oh MC, you’re SO sweet! I love you to death!”

60-22

Asmodeus: “MC, you’re so adorable. I love you, and I’m going to miss you so much. It’s going to be unbearable…”

67-9

Asmodeus: “Hehe, thank you! Oh MC, there aren’t even words to describe how much I love you.”

67-9

Asmodeus: “I thought I’d use my butt to express just how I feel about you, MC. I love you, and I want you to know it.”

Beelzebub

45-18

Beelzebub: “Mm… …Okay, I was wrong. I don’t actually like you. I love you.”

46-19

Beelzebub: “You remember when I gave you my star, right? And now here you are giving ME a star… I promise that I’ll always treasure it. Always and forever… I love you, MC.”

69-17

Beelzebub: “Well, it’s the same with me. You’re always on my mind. I love you, MC…”

80-10

Beelzebub: “I’ve been waiting so long to do this… For it to be just the two of us alone… I love you, MC…”

Belphegor

20-11

Belphegor: “But even if you go back to the human world, I’ll always love you, MC. Because there’s no one else like you anywhere. Not in the Devildom, not in the Celestial Realm, not in the human world.”

41-14

Belphegor: “I love you, MC. You have no idea how much…”

55-18

Belphegor: “Come on, try to keep still. …Here, let me put my arms around you. I love you, MC. …I love you so much, it’s crazy.”

80-10

Belphegor: “I mean, I can’t go to sleep now. Not when it would mean missing out on this… I love you, MC…”

Simeon

52-17

Simeon: “Here, let me look into your eyes. I love you, MC… The question is, how do you feel about me?”

71-17

Simeon: “You know that one song that’s been really popular with everyone at RAD lately? Well, it sums up how I feel about you perfectly. It goes like this. “I was wandering, hurt, lost in an endless night, and you reached out to me… Nestled against each other, we wished that morning would never come. No one can know, no one can know. But I love you so deeply it hurts”…”

71-17

Simeon: “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been hoping to hear you say that. Thank you. Thank you for always being there for me. I love you, MC.”

Diavolo

56-18

Diavolo: “If you’d be okay with it, I’d actually like it if we could do this sort of thing more often. You know, spend more time together. I’m just going to come out and say it, MC… The truth is…I love you

56-18

Diavolo: “I love you so much. You’re so, so precious to me that I can barely take it. Can I kiss you?”

56-18

Diavolo: “I love you, MC. And I’m so happy to know you feel the same way about me. Thank you.”

56-18

Diavolo: “Well, even if you don’t have feelings for me, that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I still love you

80-14

Diavolo: “It’s hard getting you alone. After all, wherever you go, Lucifer and his brothers are sure to be nearby. But right now I have you all to myself… I love you, MC…”

Ranks

1. Asmodeus (13)

2. Lucifer/Mammon (9)

3. Diavolo (5)

4. Beelzebub/Belphegor/Simeon (4)

5. Leviathan/Satan (2)

6. Solomon/Thirteen/Barbatos/Mephistopheles/Michael/Raphael (0)

[lefty-scribes]

sunflower

Summary: After coming home late from a stressful day at work, Spencer needs nothing more than to be in your arms in order to feel like himself again. You offer your touch to him in more ways than one.

or

melodramatic handjob :>

Word Count: 3423

Songs: ‘cry’ by cigarettes after sex may fit !!

Pairing: softdomme!reader x sub!spencer

Warnings: smut (18+ please), choking (m receiving), spencer cries xoxo, fully consensual but his reactions are described as ‘involuntary’ sometimes, sudden tense switch at the end bc it felt right idk, 65% buildup, 15% action, 20% orgasm LOL

a/n: guys the transition from comfort to seggsy just happened out of nowhere and the pacing is aggressively slow, prob making this hard to get off to. i’m sorry. also if you don’t think you should be reading this (🔞) you’re probably right ?? but please don’t tell me about it. do comment anything else though if you're feeling up to it :3

With a twist of his hand on the doorknob and a step through the door, Spencer took his long awaited whiff of home. It smelled of cedarwood and floral candles and you, and the tension released from his shoulders completely for the first time today.

He walked straight to the bedroom where he knew you’d still be up waiting for him, door open with a lit bedside light to welcome him despite his insistence that your sleep is more important. The urge didn’t even come up to wash his hands, disinfect his phone, or sanitize his work bag, being replaced instead by his desire to be in your presence.

As he’d suspected, there you were, sitting up on the bed you shared, eyes fighting to stay open as they flitted through the pages of a book. The comforter covered your legs, and only a thin sleep shirt separated your back from the headboard you leaned against, the shape of your nipples hardly poking through. Spencer hesitated to walk in and ruin the pretty picture.

When you noticed him, a fond smile grew on your face and you dropped your book to open your arms wide for him. He slowly walked over to you, stomach twisting just a little at the fear of being a bother, and started to position himself as he did whenever he needed a bit of extra comfort. He gave you a quick peck and settled down so his head rested on your lap, lying down on his side with his arm hugging your bare thighs. His long frame curled sideways by your legs under the blanket. He said nothing when you combed your fingers through his hair—just held you a bit tighter; nuzzled his cheek impossibly closer.

You broke the silence, absentmindedly separating small locks of his hair now with your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” you asked, to which he shook his head, movement still restricted by your thighs on his cheek, hating that he didn’t have more to say. Hated to have to make you pry just to hear about his day, but all the more in awe of how attuned you were to his emotions—even more than he was sometimes. Hated being moody and uncommunicative, but his brain was betraying him.

Your thumb now stroked his eyebrow, smoothing it out. Every part of him that your fingers touched relaxed in its wake, coupled with the scent of your lotion and laundry into his breaths. He finally spoke up, voice slightly muddled from his cheek against your leg; perhaps he sounded like his handwriting would sound, though he hoped he was more understandable than that.

“Per hour of sleep we lose, human blood pressure tends to increase by 3 to 5 millimeters of mercury, so you waiting up for me this late probably already caused an increase of 10 mmHg. Cortisol levels can also increase by up to 80% when sleep deprived, and your reaction time can slow by up to 500 milliseconds, which will make it more unsafe for you to drive tomorrow.” I appreciate you so much, baby, but you shouldn’t have waited up, is what he wanted to say. It never came out that way. I love when you greet me. Don’t put your health at risk for me. I’m sorry I’m late. But it always came out instead as numbers and statistics because that’s all he knows how to do, and it’s the only way his voice knows how to love, but you get it. He wants to add more.

You get him. “Stop worrying, Spence. I need to see you just as much as you need to see me. Can’t sleep otherwise,” you assured him. Goosebumps rose on his skin as you rubbed slow, pressured circles onto his forehead, massaging him properly now. Maybe your words were supposed to make him feel better, but he couldn’t shake the guilt in his gut. His burden complex weighed heavier today.

“My Spencer,” you breathed. Heat rose onto his cheeks. Your Spencer. “What do you need from me?”

He laid still on your lap, face now turned upward to memorize your own, pondering on the question. Always too scared to ask, though he knew what he needed. “Anything you’ll give me,” he whispered.

Now freshly dried from his shower, Spencer walked toward where you stayed sitting on the bed just as you had been when he arrived. He stood completely bare before you, an unlikely mix of both self-consciousness and pride filling him as you looked him up and down. The implied power imbalance of your clothed decency juxtaposed with his nude vulnerability has just occurred to him; he felt a rush in his stomach.

You pulled the covers off and spread your legs apart, then patted the space in between. Spencer crawled onto the bed as carefully as he could, trying not to shake it too much, now unsure of how long he could last. He found a seat between your thighs, the outer edge of his legs lining the inner side of your own, his back flush against your torso.

Goosebumps rose on his skin when your hands trailed up his neck, grazing his ears, then his cheekbones, to comb themselves through his soft hair. He shivered, just once. His mouth parted slightly in a shaky exhale and his head lolled back toward you, as a cat would, until it rested gently on your shoulder, full trust in you to support him. His eyelashes fluttered to a close as you slowly but firmly squeezed your fingers into a closed fist against his scalp, hair tangled within your grasp, letting the leverage of your palms against his head do the tugging. Despite the tightness of the skin around his temples, his facial muscles only continued to relax as he silently handed you all control of him. He released a shallow gasp as you gave your wrists a slow twist before releasing his hair entirely.

You slid your fingers down to his nipples, running your thumbs over them each for not long enough. He let out a sigh that must’ve released more air than his lungs had the capacity to carry in the first place. The stresses of the day began to leave with it, Spencer being overcome instead by the relief of being back in the comfort of his own home—in the arms of his beloved. Your hand was cool against his humid skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. Ears ringing, he hardly heard his own voice releasing a shaky, dragged out, sh— shhhit, between gritted teeth.

Your hands trailed down even further toward his soft stomach which was scrunched into a bean-like mound from his position against you, grazing down his happy trail before ignoring his painful erection and inching toward his thighs instead. Your nails dragged gently over his inner thighs and he pried them open for you; all for you.

He whined under his breath and his legs flexed under your touch, only the duration of a single twitch, lifting his hips up subconsciously to contact your hands where he needed them most. You gently pushed him back down, wordlessly insisting on giving attention to his soft thighs, asserting that it was your pace being followed. And he couldn’t object. He didn’t want to. Always so patient with him, he longed for you to be proud of his obedience. His thighs were yours to touch, after all, and so was what rested now painfully hard between them.

His head still laying against your shoulder, you gently swiped your tongue against his ear lobe, getting his attention. You whispered to him, and he was so receptive to you. “Do you think you’re ready?”

He didn’t need to see it to know, but he glanced down anyway, his cheeks burning up to a colour he imagined matched his throbbing penis. He ached to be touched there, swallowing at the thought.

He hummed lazily in response, already lightheaded from the rush in his head. He tilted his head in slow roll to place clumsy kisses all over your face, whatever part of it he could reach, nodding continuously to please touch me, I’m ready. He thought his lips had caught your nose, cheekbones, ear, jaw… but at that point he’d already been intoxicated by your touch and couldn’t tell the difference; only wanted to taste the saltiness of your supple skin.

“Words, Spence.” With his head still turned to you, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and nipped at it until it puffed up, drawing a light whimper from him. He arched his neck sideways to grant you access to the rest of him that your lips and teeth could reach. More of him now exposed to you, he quietly pleaded as you lightly sucked on sensitive points behind his jaw. A lone tear slipped out of his eye closest to you, and you lapped it up as it hung from his jaw.

“Ready. Always ready for you,” he choked, voice already hoarse. Your ability to take him to the clouds far before touching the most sensitive part of him only turned him on further, as well as the nurturing and patient but complete control you exerted. He was undeserving and yet eternally grateful. Swore to himself he’d spend the rest of his days trying to love you as completely as you did him.

Upon squeezing out some lubricant from the bottle in your bedside drawer, you grasped his erection in your slick hand, your other hand exploring the rest of his body, and he gasped with an unintentional jolt. From this position you two were in, it allowed the ridges of your curled palm and fingers, as well as the coolness of your wedding ring, to make full contact with the sensitive vein along the underside of his cock.

You played him like an instrument, and the sounds he made proved nothing less. You’d glide your sharp knuckles over him, barely making contact with him, much to his protest; your hand would run along the thin, elastic stretch of skin connecting his head to the underside of his cock. Or you’d bunch your delicate fingertips together at his tip, letting the widening of his cock separate them as you pushed down toward his balls. He almost wished, as the pads of your fingers trailed his length, that your fingerprints could be ingrained in his skin, if only to be claimed by you even more. His breaths grew laboured and he slowly lost the shame in his whimpers.

Your other hand moved to his lips, muffling his sounds slightly. Your breath tickled his ears, and he threw an arm back to grasp your hair or neck or whatever he could grab, trying fruitlessly to get closer for you to ground him.

He whined helplessly against your now vibrating hand, though it did nothing to quiet his volume as you so creatively played with his cock, fidgeting with him and using him like nothing. Tension was prominent between his eyebrows sewn together, and surely his forehead carried a few creases as well.

You gently ran your thumb against his bottom lip, and he instinctively pulled it into his mouth. Your thumb pushed degradingly against the inside of his cheek, forcing his mouth to open slightly. His tongue circled your thumb out of habit, and the slightest bit of spit dribbled out the corner of his lips.

The room started to smell and feel like sweat, though he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was experiencing everything and nothing all at once, sensations heightened yet brain numbed. Rare were the occasions that he couldn’t explain everything, and the times where he couldn’t think straight, but he revelled in it. Nowhere else was Spencer able to be completely defenseless and equally safe but in your arms—or hands, in this case. His guard wholeheartedly down, he cherished the privilege of being worriless and thoughtless.

His brain’s unusual absence of words and knowledge—two things which he so dutifully guarded just to feel competent—was welcomed because you were around to protect his vulnerability in the meantime.

By now, from the sweat or his own sheer lack of control, Spencer had slid down slightly so his shoulder blades were flush with your breasts; your hard nipples pressed against him through the soft silk of your nightshirt and it reminded him how eager he was to return the favour. He was leaning back a bit more, hardly noticing the ache from his weight resting on his tailbone.

The position gave you access to move your working hand even lower, gentle fingers starting to toy with his balls before moving down toward the sensitive patch of skin right beneath. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when you hit it, hums and groans gradually increasing in pitch. Against his own will, he clenched around nothing, causing his perineum to shift against your fingers. He choked out another embarrassingly loud sound, mouth shamelessly open now, and then did it again.

You kissed his jaw. “How do you feel?” you whispered. You gave more attention to the pink head now, fingers tickling his smooth tip, thumb pressing down periodically on the ridges. Your other hand played with hair.

“You treat me so well,” he breathed, as earnestly as he could, turning his head to give a sloppy kiss to your wrist, drunk on your touch, your warmth, and you. “Love you so much,"—he swallowed—"ah— oh, f— fuck— Love what you do to me.”

“You deserve it all.”

His moans got more high pitched as you worked, and his breaths came in faster than his chest could keep up with. His hands grasped at your thighs to steady himself, blunt nails digging in.

“My Spencer baby, you look oh so beautiful,” you praised, voice dripping in sheer adoration. His eyes drew open and his gaze rolled back, then lazily toward you. Another tear slowly escaped the corner of his eye, and he wished he weren’t tearing up if only to see your pretty face more clearly. His eyebrows were still tense under the nearness of his undoing, tilted in a pleading pout.

“Please, please-please-please-please-plea— mmngh…” He pleaded and begged for release, no longer making sense of what was coming out of his mouth, eyes ever-downturned and watering once again.

He was helplessly putty in your hands, his body no longer his own, but rather a shell of just euphoria and feeling. He was floating and completely at your mercy, just as he loves to be.

“I love you, please, I—” His sentences grew choppy and more and more incoherent, his speech being mixed with unintelligible throaty noises. His chest rose and fell significantly faster than it had earlier, lips hardly separating as he mumbled a yesyesyesyes keep going yes just like that please, and his hips thrusted up to move his length further into your hand.

His desperate hands sought purchase from whatever they could grab, now tightly squeezing and scratching at your thighs. He readjusted his sweat-slicked palms as they slipped down your skin.

Your hand in his hair slid down roughly to grab his jaw in utter possessiveness, twisting it up toward you to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. He did the best he could to return it. “Go ahead, baby,” you mumbled against his mouth.

He whimpered into the kiss, with no more capacity to spare you an audible ‘thank you’ as usual. You squeezed your working hand just the slightest bit tighter around his cock, working your way back up to his ever-sensitive pink head.

“Shitshitshitshit, fuck, oh, God. I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so—ah—” How naughty he felt. Maybe you’d tease him later about the junk coming out of his mouth, flustering him with the thought of what the neighbours would think. But as a sunflower proved its affinity to the sun and its warmth, all he could do now was gaze at you mindlessly, his neck aching at the effort. Under the dim yellow lamp lighting up the room, he embodied the sunflower’s golden glow. Its face would follow the bright star by nature and so would Spencer's, happily compelled by some force of nature to show you his authentic self as he held on so close to his orgasm. You smiled at him.

The bed squeaked under his shaking legs. Lone tears made their way down his face, free-falling now, and he made no move to wipe them. As he neared his peak, you kept your hand on his cock, hand wrapped snugly around his tip, angling it toward his chest.

You grabbed his throat with the other, fingers squeezing inward toward the two valleys around his neck that carried his precious arteries, and he felt the first spurt of cum burst through with a loud wail of surprise.

“Baby—“ he tried breathlessly, eyes still attempting to meet yours to please understand what I’m saying, please be proud of me, “baby, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming, I’m…” His muscles spasmed and sharply leaned him forward, causing your hand to obstruct his throat just a bit more, and he was thankful for it if only to ground his shaking to a minimum.

His head was pounding and his vision grew spotty as he basked in the feeling of his life, and his penis, in your hands, and the purpose with which you handled him as he prayed for this state of euphoria to not simply kill him. Though that wouldn’t be a terrible way to go.

He fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, yet still saw only white. He was burning up and held no sense of himself as his muscles twitched in waves, knees buckling, though you were there to hold him through it all. His mouth opened in a silent scream as you continued moving your hand along his sensitive length.

His panting gradually became less breathy and more audible, now backed by a throaty groan with every breath he released. Your name became the only thought in his mind, and he let it shakily slip out of his mouth, not caring how absolutely brainless he sounded. With each spurt of his release onto his chest, each involuntary clenching and thrust of his hips, he repeated it. Whether a cry of pleading, gratitude, or adoration, he wasn’t certain—but it all centred around you.

You talked him through the final stages of his orgasm with gentle murmurs of praise, pushing his hips down to forcefully guide him through it. Good boy, Spencer. Keep going. I’m right here. You got it. You’re doing great. Almost done. I love you. You’re so safe here. Your ministrations on his sensitive penis didn’t slow as you patiently waited for him, though he had to rest his hand on your wrist to slow you down, eyes finally falling closed; you obliged. His body offered you one final tremor of overwhelming pleasure.

The horrors of the day seemed to have been released with his release. But with the way you were now atop him, cleaning up the mess on his chest with your tongue, then crawling back up to his own mouth to offer him a taste, he felt his once-against stiffening cock asking for more where that came from. His aftercare be damned. No longer overwhelmed by his need for solace, this new rise of arousal was geared toward you—thanking you, loving you, cherishing you, pleasuring you in the way his words so often failed to do.

He would do for you what you had so generously done for him, and more, if you’d let him. He could give you his tongue, his length, his fingers, a toy—or whatever you wanted. Offer himself to be used and taken however you pleased. Longed to give you everything he could. He was yours, after all. 

Spencer told himself that there would be time for all that, though he always worried otherwise. Keeps it in his head, but he pleads every day that you wouldn’t end up like those he sought justice for at work, or be the body that haunted him until he arrived home to you, or the victim of a target aimed at him. Pleads every day that there would be more time.

But in the meantime, with not much else he can do, just as a sunflower would, he swears to turn his back to everything else dark about the world and follow his sun as long as he is able.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 16

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 15, Part 17

Warning! This is sagau imposter so expect some gore and manipulation this chapter! At least no death this time :D

Each step of your dirty shoes on the bare rocky terrain held more weight than Azhdaha's heart and soul. His body shuffled and shifted, resisting the urge to ram the barrier trapping him.

"Don't be so impatient, Azhdaha. You've waited for millennials, surely a minute for me to reach you is nothing." You slow your steps purposely to tease him with a deceivingly gentle smile.

The ground rumbles briefly as Azhdaha settles in place and rests his head on the ground. If he had fur instead of stone, you would believe he was just a giant dog.

"Forgive me your grace. The leylines I command are constantly blooming with power at your every step."

"Was it not the people of Liyue who harmed the leylines causing the events that led to your imprisonment here?" You ask, selecting your words carefully.

Red eyes carved from ruby stare at you as you stop right outside of the barrier surrounding his body. Not wanting to accidentally disable the barrier, you rest your hand on the closest pillar. 

Pillars with the same design and origin of the one who was a little too late to save his dear friend from this fate.

"Was it not the ruler of those people that failed to reach you in time?"

"Even you, your grace, are aware of the shameful state I have been reduced to. Morax may have provided me with these defective eyes but at least now I can view your glorious prestige."

Surprisingly there is no rush of anger and violence in Azhdaha's movement and tone. He moves closer till his face is gently pressing against the Geo-decorated barrier.

"I beg of you, Creator of all things. Let me feel your skin, your warmth. The memories of my creation are lost to the erosion of time. Whether it be your hand or foot, I will adore it all the same. I am nothing but the groundskeeper to your playground called Tevyat."

A originally blind dragon has no need for eyelids so all he can do is gaze pleadingly at your silent form. Blue crystalline clink on the ground as it drops from his eyes as the silence persists. Even still you stare at him with a blank expression until his head is completely bowed to the ground.

An isolated dragon desperate for even the slightest bit of affection was like wet clay for you to mold to your liking. The only thing that ruined any plans you had for him was that dreaded erosion. You seriously doubted that he could stay calm and lie to match your facade the way Beisht can.

"Rest easy now, Azhdaha." Your hand moves through the yellow barrier, which thankfully doesn't deactivate it, to lay on his rocky forehead. "A dragon like you, who I have created with my own hand before this vessel, is not easily forgotten. Many of your brethren have perished before I could return."

Cupping what little of his wide, rough jaw, you tilt his head to stare up at you. A delicate expression with sadness and love swirling together is what paints your face. "You have done so well to persist this long, Azhdaha."

A loud roar of anguish is let loose as he tries to move further into your touch. Ignoring the threat of scraps, you pet his stony exterior with a smile. 

"Your grace! Your holiness! Those words are what fuel my pitiful existence. The feel of your skin on this degraded body brings memories of my creation from the clutches of erosion."

Mindlessly stroking the weeping dragon, you think deeply on his words. 'Memories of my creation' is what he called it. Azhdaha was struggling at first due to the contrasting information from the eyes corrupted by the Gnosis and the leylines of Teyvat. All it took was your touch on his body for him to fully give in to you. 

Perhaps the other dragon sovereigns and primordial beings will recognize you easily with your touch as well. Could it work on the Archons too?

"Are you okay, your grace? I know that day, you were injured due to my own careless ruling. I failed to control my subjects and you suffered from it. If death is my penalty for my negligence then I will accept it wholeheartedly."

The strange and unexpected words laced with guilt made you confused. Caressing the rugged layer of stone near his eyes to grab his attention, you ask carefully. "What do you mean by that?"

His tail lowers onto the ground as he speaks lowly. "Not long ago, the Geovishaps were making their rounds on maintaining the leylines when two hatchlings got lost."

Oh, you knew where this was going.

"When they dug back up to the surface, they were in the city. While trying to escape, they hurt someone. They hurt you." That last word is said with bubbling anger. Resisting the urge to yank your hands away from the dragon capable of turning into a volcano, you brush your hands further to distract him.

"Teyvat had already warned us elemental beings about someone injuring you with malicious intent. To feel the leylines in your area go into a frenzy from that incident made my blood boil. It's only fair that the perpetrator suffers the bare minimum consequences."

So, it wasn't Teyvat that had the hatchling kill the other. It was Azhdaha.

Despite the harsh truth that Azhdaha just admitted, your hands seemed to move on their own to keep Azhdaha subdued. You aren't necessarily scared of Azhdaha, you're just more cautious on how to approach leaving him.

You couldn't just teleport out, who knows how Azhdaha's battered and worship-obsessed brain would interpret it. You didn't need a bunch of Geovishap and Geovishap hatchlings chasing you throughout Liyue.

But the thought of returning back to the city takes less priority than your current one. A dragon one head scratch away from rolling over at your command is vulnerable to your words. Just what could you strip from Azhdaha for future use?

"Azhdaha, you love me don't you?" You ask it with a deceivingly shaky voice as your hands halt their stream of pets. His reaction is immediate.

His claws scratch the ground as he stands to his full height.  Even still, his back hunches trying to keep himself respectful to your much smaller form. "My love for you will exist even after my death. Every Geovishap that roams this world and every leyline that reacts to your presence is proof of my love for you, beloved Creator."

A small, sad smile crosses your face at the words he utters with zeal. It was so easy to get his deteriorated brain to fall for your expertly crafted facade of vulnerability. It's not like he was your first or last victim to this 'side' of you.

School faculty couldn't turn a blind eye to the way you paled at the cost of lunch. Empathetic, heroic, and kind students wouldn't resist the urge to defend, tend to, or help you when any bullying started. Even strangers with bleeding hearts had no problem giving you food or money when you were a roaming teenager with nothing but a backpack.

The money you saved by not paying lunch almost always went straight to the locked box you had for when you would be inevitably moved to a new guardian. All the bullying incidents were helpful in making the other students invite and accept you into any group of your choosing. It's not like anyone would believe that meek and polite you could jump the bullies on their way home with a malicious smile and a blunt weapon, nor would a passing stranger that helped you be aware of the man and cat that you returned to completely contrasting the story you spun.

"Then you're willing to protect me, right? Ei, that Bakufu was intent on seeing me as an imposter. She tried to take my life right when I just returned. It's due to that, that I have to live in fear of this mask being removed."

Moving closer, you rest your forehead against his head, trembling in fear of the horrid memory.

"I'm sure if I arrived in Liyue instead of Inazuma, I would be able to walk on Teyvat with you proudly on the surface with me. You would protect me, you would fight for me. You would die for me, would you not? Dragons are known for their loyalty after all."

Azhdaha continuously repositions himself as he breathes heavily. There's no doubt he's torn between anger against Ei, happiness at your trust, and excitement at the prospect of being on the surface.

"You have my word, my grace. I would fight any enemy, defend any stronghold, obey any command you have for me. Simply relay your order and I will fulfill it to perfection. And if it pleases you, allow me the honor of destroying the Shogun for her unforgivable sins."

"But can you really protect me with those imperfect eyes?" Your words are spoken gently with a smile laced with sweet poison. "You are putting me in danger by using those corrupted eyes to watch over me. Do you not know why I crafted you without eyes?"

A sole finger touches the edge of the red jewel eyes as silence permanence the air. He doesn't flinch from the fleeting fingertips despite the slow unraveling of your intentions.

"Geo lifeforms that stay underground don’t have eyes as they have no need for it. And as thankful as I am that Morax provided you with eyes to enjoy the surface, it wasn't my original design for you."

Experimentally tapping his eyes and smiling at the crystalline texture, you speak with a low timber. "You were always meant to stay underground to properly care for the leylines. You didn't know it at the time, but accepting these eyes had the same effect as accepting Celestia's lies."

You let Azhdaha think deeply on your revelation as you pet the area around his eyes. The mere fact that he was contemplating it was a good sign, those eyes are proof of his contract with Morax after all.

"Your benevolence, are you requesting the destruction of my eyes?"

"Of course not, Azhdaha!" Laughing reassuringly, your fingers dig into the corner of his eyes ignoring the way he flinches in pain. "I'm commanding you to give me those eyes. I cannot bring you to the surface with me, so bringing a remnant of you will soothe my aching and lonely heart. It's convenient that those eyes prevent you from doing your job correctly too."

A low pained groan leaves his jaw as your other hand mimics the action of the former. Nails digging into his eye cavities, you feel the ruby eyes lift from the force. Azhdaha's body shakes, alerting you that you pushed him far enough. Releasing his eyes you take a step back to be out of the barrier in case he makes any attack.

"I once yearned to see the sun, that blazing ball of fire that lights up this world providing it with the warmth to live. All because I knew that you must shine even brighter than it. In those days of old, envy and despair consumed me as did the love and joy I felt being embraced in this world that you crafted. I know better now. I know that even without these eyes that I enjoyed from that traitor I once called my friend, I could still make out your glorious form. Every leyline on this planet shines like dull cobblestone in comparison to the gold figure that stands in front of me."

"I have no way to wretch these crystal eyes out of the unneeded cavities. Take them from me, your grace, take any part of my body that you desire. My sole regret is that I could not offer you my original body to pick from."

An excited smile stretches across your face with a heartfelt caress to the bridge of his nose. "Thank you Azhdaha, do not fret. The day that I craft you eyes worthy of the dragon you once were is near. Thank you for being such a good boy."

Despite the condescending tone to your last words that slipped out, Azhdaha still rejoices with the same fervor of a real dog. The tree tail wags slowly, revealing his happiness.

Carefully, you dig your nails into his right eye. It's heavy and hard to pull out. This would surely be easier using your sickle but you didn't want Azhdaha to feel even more pain. At least with you using your hands, he feels some comfort in your skin.

After a tough tug, the eye is finally out and stuffed haphazardly into your bag. Blue crystalline liquid coats your hands and flows from the now-empty cavity. Wiping it off on your clothes carelessly, you give Azhdaha a break by petting him.

"Just one more Azhdaha, then it'll be done." He leans into your touch without a single sound escaping him. You aren't fooled by that tough facade. He's silent in fear that speaking will only result in his pained cries.

The red jewel chips slightly as you dig it out of his head. Beads of clear blue roll down as you grit your teeth. It finally comes out and that trickle becomes a stream. Putting the eye into your bag, you peek at the now blind dragon.

A slow, continuous dribble of aqua crystalline stains his face as the cavities slowly stitch close. The cavities closing simultaneously are heard by the cracking and grinding of rocks. Azhdaha curls into himself from the pain but refuses to allow any sound escape him.

Your body moves on its own to hug the suffering dragon. Murmurs of praise and thanks leave your lips as the rocks creak louder and faster. The tear tracks left on his face stain your clothing blue yet you can't find it in yourself to care.

A selfish person, that's what you were to your core. There are no words you can use to justify what you have done to Azhdaha. You may never have the power to craft new eyes for him. You may not even live long enough to research how. Yet, you still manipulated him into giving it up. The bitter self-hatred and burning feeling of loathing yourself builds up inside you.

"As sad as I am to surrender my eyes, there is nothing that brings me greater joy than to be of use to you your grace. I will readjust to living without eyes."

Releasing him, you stare at his now-healed face. The cavities have been completely sealed shut as if there were never eyes to begin with. His voice is deep and rumbles softly.

"The leylines of this world relay to me more than elemental crystals shaped in the visage of eyes can."

The words do little to ease the guilt you feel for your cruelty but before you can do anything, a loud sound interrupts your thoughts. Frowning, you adjust your bag back onto your shoulders and look at the entrance to Azhdaha's lair.

It's silent and it only makes you more suspicious. Taking a few steps toward the lair's entrance, a glow behind you makes you whip around quickly. Azhdaha's body glows with white cracks throughout his body as he roars ferociously.

Backing up in confusion, you watch in disbelief as Azhdaha's body shrinks and compresses. Loud bangs echo from the lair entrance in sync with Azhdaha's deafening cry.

That loud bang is accompanied by the sound of the seal covering the entrance shattering. Deciding to focus on the unknown intruder first, you catch the sight of a tall figure walking with powerful steps toward you.

A sole amber eye is what catches your attention first.

Brown hair with glowing tips loosely drapes over an earthy-colored hanfu. Only a stub can be made out from inside one of the dark sleeves as the tall man looks at you with an emotionless expression.

"Zhongli. It sure is a surprise to see you here." Your mind spins as it tries to comprehend just why Zhongli was here. Azhdaha's unwavering roars, his missing eyes, just everything about this situation was suspicious.

His other arm, which thankfully hasn't been cut off, raises to cup your face. Gloved fingers are featherlight on your dusty cheek as you stare up at him with perplexion clear on your face. He leans closer to speak with unwavering confidence.

"Why did you leave?"

He's got to be kidding.

"Why wouldn't I leave? I wasn't interested in being a third wheel to your conversation with the Creator." You answer back with a disbelieving tone before getting startled at the slam of a hulking body hitting the ground.

"MORAX! How dare you reappear in my prison after all that you had done?! What audacity have you fostered that let you dare to touch the Creator?!"

Fuck

Shit, oh fucking hell. 

Thousands of curses swarm your mind at Azhdaha's words, you keep your face in its confused expression as you run through any plan or excuse to survive.

"You're making Y/N uncomfortable with your insane claims, Azhdaha. They're an Oracle sent from the world the Creator is residing in." Zhongli is calm in his refute to Azhdaha's tantrum.

Pushing Zhongli's hand off your face, you turn to look at Azhdaha who is now much smaller. His stature is exactly like you saw when you played Genshin. That bright light must have not only degraded his body to the erosion-damaged body but his brain too. It's simply too suspicious that he became this wildly angry at Zhongli's presence.

Looking up at Azhdaha with sad eyes and a kind voice you speak gently, as if trying to soothe the dragon with no idea of what he claimed.

"I know my presence is similar to the Creator due to my otherworldly origin, but I'm really just Y/N. The erosion must be so painful that it even brought you down to this point. The creator hasn't forgotten you, I can promise that."

Zhongli frowns as Azhdaha tries to refute you. "NO! Don't you see, your grace?! That traitor is merely trying to keep you from reaching your full glory to keep you to himself!"

"How can you say that when you can't see at all?" Zhongli's voice is chilly as he places his gloved hand on your shoulder. His grip is tight and you try to step away. He doesn't budge and merely pulls you closer to him.

"Solidify!" The familiar line is yelled before a dome-like shield completely covers you and Zhongli. Your confusion on his action is answered when rocks from the ceiling start to rain on the shield. His hand positions your head to look back at him.

"Why won't you look at me Y/N? Do you still hold bitterness against me for my doubts against you? I was proven wrong utterly and completely, I apologize for my rudeness."

His voice is pleading and his lips tug down into a sad frown. You really can't understand why Zhongli's just ignoring all the suspicious things in this situation. Was the attachment acolytes feel towards you already affecting him this strongly?

"I'm not mad at you. Sure, it was annoying that you kept suspecting me despite all my efforts but you do believe me now after sacrificing so much. Actually, just what and how much did you offer? The sky lit up quite a few times."

An excited smile graces his lips as he takes a step closer to you, but unexpectedly sways making you grab his arm in worry. He laughs gently before speaking.

"After I noticed your disappearance, I gave as many offerings of my body as I could. Not only as my repentance toward the Creator but also as an apology to you."

Your eyes trail down his change of clothes. The hanfu is black with brown, gold, and white parts to it. The Geo symbol sign is clearly stitched into the inner robe.

"Is that why you have a change of clothes and are swaying so much? Be honest and tell me what part of your body you gave."

With closed eyes and shaky breaths, he places your hand on the top of his head. His hair is ticklish to your bare palms. "This human body wasn't nearly enough to make an impactful offering. But my Exuvia is adequate for our beloved creator. Naturally, my horns were the first to go."

The slight nub you feel between his locks must be the stump from his horns. You aren't sure whether to be sick or amazed. But Zhongli doesn't stop there, he takes advantage of your bewilderment and takes hold of your other hand.

"My spines were the next to be cut off. Those jagged ambers were more helpful for flying than anything else." His head nuzzles your hand on his hair as he takes your other hand to the spine of his back. You can feel the ridges of the amber remnants.

"My tail was in a similar position, useless in my current form. If only they didn't bleed so much. If the creator took any longer to accept my offering, I would have passed out from blood loss."

Even more worried about his physical state, you try to pull your hand away from his back and graze his side making him hiss in pain. He's quick to grab hold of it again and press it deeper into his side. Your jaw drops as he groans in pain and gives you a pained smile.

"I severed my claws yet got no response. I really believed I would have to stop at that point but I remembered another draconic part of my body that I could offer."

Your eyes filter between his happy and pained smile and the hanfu that was starting to blossom with red. Just where the fuck was he going with this?

"My skin, or rather, my scales were still in my body. Each clink of the scales as they were torn or cut out of my body may have left me lightheaded from the gushing wounds. But nothing could compare to the feeling of the Creator accepting me."

Blinking in pure shock, your mind struggled to comprehend the mere insanity of his actions. You were joking about him having the possibility of sewing his mouth shut from finding his idle annoying. This motherfucker would actually do it!

Zhongli takes your reaction, or rather lack of reaction, in stride with him pulling you closer to him. Your hands rest on his body to not be pressed against him but that only has him wincing in pain. He stubbornly holds you closer as you cringe from the feeling of wet blood seeping through his hanfu and onto your skin and clothes. 

"Stop. Doesn't this hurt you? Just how long will it take you to heal, let alone regain those dragon features?" Asking him with the purpose of distracting him, you speak in a rush. He merely hums as his arms stay around you firmly.

"Elemental beings like myself will always recover. I'm exceptionally strong with my status as an Archon, I'll be fully healed within a month at most."

You couldn't even linger on the idea that in a single month, he would be completely back to normal. The ground shook as more and more rocks fell on the shield. You couldn't stay trapped in Zhongli's embrace, at this rate you couldn't even stay in Liyue for much longer.

The slight sway of his movements, the slow speech pattern, and the rising of his body temperature permeating through his clothing gave you an idea.

Halting your resistance to his hold, your hands trail up his clothing with a pitiful smile. Rough and dirty hands from all the hardship you faced to get here cup his face enhancing the contrast of his smooth skin. His eyes immediately close at the contact with a deep rumbling sound coming from his chest.

"Still, it must be painful. Not just physically but mentally too. You have gained and lost so much over your lifetime. I have no doubt that it won't stop here. Just stay strong a little longer, won't you? Be patient till the Creator arrives and rewards you properly."

Zhongli's features soften till his eyes droop and his lips tremble. His full vulnerability is on display as he nuzzles into your palms shamelessly.

"Just what kind of ability do you possess? Young as you are, your ability to perceive and empathize with feelings is beyond your years. Do not stress for me, I have already been awarded by the Creator."

You frown slightly at his last words, not fully grasping at what his 'reward' from you was. The sacrificial method? The artifacts and weapons? He smiles at your confusion with half-lidded eyes.

Grasping your hands, he brings them closer to his mouth and kisses your knuckles with a smoldering grin. You aren't completely sure whether the pink decorating his cheeks is from embarrassment or a fever from his injuries.

"What greater reward than an Oracle sent from our God to soothe my soul?"

Suddenly you don't like where this is going. The thundering sound of rocks being thrown agrees with you.

"As fellow devoted servants to the Creator, should we not join in union? Marriage is a contract till death does us part after all."

There's no way this was happening. You were not getting proposed in a basement with a raging dragon just a few feet away from you.

Sensing your hesitation, Zhongli continues to speak with a romantic timber as he places a kiss on your palm.

"This may be sudden but I can assure you that I'll take care of you. I'll protect, provide, and love you as the closest person to our beloved creator. You may not love me now but just being from a different world has caused many problems for you. You are the only person who can match the amount of devotion I hold to our creator."

If this was a true confession of love at first sight or any other extremely fluffy trope, you would seriously contemplate saying yes. He wasn't wrong about your life being much easier with him by your side.

But it instantly died when he revealed that it was from you being such a strong believer and being the most intimately connected to the creator. It killed any romantic prospect of the situation. All you felt was dread and a longing to just leave.

You truly hope that he was only saying this shit from the blood loss getting to him. The annoyed expression you wear isn't even covered up, letting Zhongli see it plainly. His affectionate expression breaks and his lips part to ask you something but it's cut off by a bang.

It seems Azhdaha unknowingly agreed to break you out as a rock finally breaks the dome shield that had been protecting you all this time.

"Succumb to my fury Morax! Not even addressing the creator properly during your whole conversation is a disgrace to the Geo element and dragons alike!"

Wrath seemed to have consumed Azhdaha enough that one of the pillars of the barrier broke. Zhongli summons his spear and walks past you to stand protectively in front of you.

"Do not fret Y/N, I'll subdue Azhdaha so that he does not cause any more problems. Permanently." You absolutely did not want that but at the same time, you really wanted to escape this whole situation.

Azhdaha is going insane, Zhongli's bound to realize what you had taken from Azhdaha, and the duo of women are bound to get closer from the activity. That's not even counting how close this cave seemed to be from collapsing. 

"Azhdaha is still the creator's loyal creation! He may have deteriorated from the erosion that you failed to prevent, but don't kill a loyal and faithful follower like him!"

Hitting Zhongli with such a sharp remark, you watch his deadly glare weaken. Azhdaha begins to make careless attacks toward Zhongli's vicinity which, unfortunately, you're still in.

Picking you up with ease, Zhongli dodges the many attacks and stops near the lair's exit. Azhdaha does his best to give chase but isn’t much of a threat in that size.

Setting you down and wiping away the small pieces of rock from your face, Zhongli gazes at you warmly.

"You should return to Liyue Harbor. I'm sure many things require your attention considering how much trouble you seem to get into. And when we meet again, I expect an answer to my question."

Trying to ignore his last words, you wave to him before he jumps back into battle with Azhdaha. As soon as his back is turned you book it out of the lair. Leaving the small cave entrance the night sky shines above you.

Thousands of stars shimmer as you stand in silence. It felt good to have a break from everything going on below ground. Walking slowly your eyes gradually climb up the Dragon-Queller tree trunk to admire its full beauty.

It seems you were correct in assuming that the crystalline blue glowed brighter at night. The cerulean-colored branches pulsed with an eye-catching glimmer. The orange leaves blew in the night air as the pink petals of the flowers below you swayed.

You spot a familiar-looking constellation in the sky that seemed to twinkle for your attention. Lapis Dei, Zhongli's constellation, was lit up by four points. It was pretty incredible that you went from a C0 to C4 in a matter of hours.

But, just what effect did constellations have on characters other than making them stronger? It was closely connected to your creator power so it must be important outside of the game. Would whatever effect it have differ between humans and archons? 

What would have happened if you had gotten Zhongli to C6 before coming here?

Setting those lingering questions aside, you gaze up at the Dragon-Queller tree one more time before bringing up your game screen. You've finally witnessed everything about this area giving you a sense of satisfaction. 

Creak

The sound makes you pause and lift your head up from the screen in confusion. It's silent for a few moments until Teyvat bombards your mind with a sense of something going wrong.

CRACK

Ice. Lots and lots of ice spring up from the ground circling around your feet. Quickly moving back from the ice, a sharp and cold solid spike tears through your calves. A cry of pain leaves you as you stop in place. Red drops of blood stain the spikes of ice that impaled you.

Did it break your bones? Was it an important muscle for running? If you pulled it out, would you lose too much blood? 

Those thoughts swirled in your mind as the pain blinded you from the fact that Teyvat never stopped warning you.

Keeping a hand to your heart trying to slow your breathing and push down the rising sobs, you focus on what you can do now. But it's already too late. Something glints in the distance and a swish of air is heard before pain blooms from your chest.

Scalding water leaves boils on the right side of your chest as an arrow stays embedded into it. Tears of pain and anger stick to your eyelashes as you carefully move your head trying to spot the woman.

You knew Yelan and Shenhe were somewhere here. Even with the tears sliding down your mask, your lips were curled into a defensive snarl.

The small breaths you let out don't feel wet or painful, therefore your lungs are unharmed. Yelan had the skill and power to hit your lungs if she desired. This means she wants to speak to you, she wants some information you have.

She won't kill you yet.

Commanding Teyvat to show you where they were hiding, you blink sluggishly at the elemental sight being activated. Teyvat creates a path of Anemo leading to two separate points making you smile through the pain.

"Yelan, Shenhe. Shouldn't you both at least reveal yourself when taking a hostage?"

There's no need to play dumb at this point. They already suspect and harmed you to the point where it just wouldn't be smart to act ignorant.

After a beat, both women leave their respective hiding spots and make their way to you. Yelan is relaxed with an easygoing gait showing that she has all the time in the world. Shenhe is more ferous in her approach, weapon on hand, and a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Except Shenhe begins to sprint at you once you lock eyes with her. Despite the rapid thumping of your heart at her stance, you stay still not wanting to show that you could escape when needed.

As expected; Yelan grits her teeth in annoyance and activates her skill to catch up to Shenhe. Shenhe is just a few feet away from you, her spear is held out prepared to slash when she's pulled back by Yelan's lifeline. A sigh of relief escapes you as you slump into place.

"Not yet Shenhe, I need them alive for my job first. Afterwards, you can kill them as you please." Dropping Shenhe from her lifeline Yelan sighs in exhaustion. 

Shenhe doesn't react much to Yelan's attitude. Merely brushing off the dust and repositioning her weapon while watching you. 

"Eyes over here Y/N." The sound of your name from Yelan's lips catches your attention. She smirks at your wary glance and spins her bracelet. "Why don't you and I have a little chat?"

It's done! This one didn't take as long since I have been getting settled into school. If everything is cool and I'm fast then I could finish a chapter every weekend. But let's be honest. I'm far too unlucky for that. This was edited by my annoying dear editor @serpent-benediction . Don't pay attention to him tho. That was mostly a joke! I know the Zhongli cutting limbs wasn't as much as one would think since he goes around without his dragon features most of the time anyway. I just couldn't find a good reason on him cutting off his legs and still managing to fight Azhdaha. So, I hope everyone isn't too disappointed by that and can enjoy the most yandere character so far! Personally, I would not accept that marriage proposal. But now we get to focus on Yelan and Shenhe! I've taken great care to keep Yelan's intention very vague, but I think those that have read her story have a good idea on why she's here. The next chapter should be quite exciting! Taglist - remember if you're username is in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.15

Hii guyss, here's part 15 of the story. If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist and if you missed part 14, here it is.

Your life in Monaco was idyllic, growing up alongside the Leclercs. But everything changes when you're forced to leave. Now, returning to the place you once called home, you're confronted with a dilemma: not one, but two Leclerc brothers vying for your heart. Old bonds and unresolved emotions collide-what will you do when the past and present merge in unexpected ways?

Charles had secured fourth place in qualifying, a strong result for the weekend. You had cheered loudly from the paddock, your heart swelling with pride at his performance. But the excitement of the day couldn’t shake the nervous energy bubbling inside you. By the time Charles finished his debrief and met you outside the Ferrari motorhome, you were barely holding it together.

“Ready to head back?” he asked, his eyes soft as he smiled at you.

You nodded, following him silently to the car. The drive to the hotel felt different from usual—quieter, heavier. Charles glanced at you a few times, his brows furrowing slightly, but he didn’t press. Once inside your room, the dam broke. You couldn’t keep it in any longer.

You began pacing, wringing your hands as your thoughts raced. Charles watched you from the bed, concern etched across his face.

“Y/N,” he said gently, standing up. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange all day.”

You stopped pacing, turning to him. His genuine worry only made the lump in your throat grow. “Charles… I need to talk to you about something,” you said, your voice trembling.

He nodded, taking a cautious step toward you. “Okay. Talk to me.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I need to know how you feel about me. Because I think… I think I’m starting to catch feelings for you, and I need to know if I’m just imagining everything. If I’m just… one of the girls you’re talking to.”

His expression shifted to one of surprise, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re not just one of the girls, Y/N,” he said, his voice steady and warm. He stepped closer, his hands gently taking yours. “You’re the girl. The only one.”

Your breath caught, your heart hammering in your chest. “You… you like me?” you whispered.

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “I’ve had feelings for you for a while now,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had, so I kept quiet. But seeing you here, supporting me this weekend—it’s made me realize how much I want you by my side.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Charles reached up to brush it away. “I actually wanted to give you this tomorrow, after the race,” he said, his voice soft. “But now feels like the right time.”

He pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a delicate necklace with a red heart pendant. The color shimmered like the Ferrari red you’d seen on the track, vibrant and beautiful.

“Charles…” you murmured, your voice breaking.

“I wanted you to have something to remind you how important you are to me,” he said, unclasping the necklace. “May I?”

You nodded, your hands shaking slightly as you turned around. He fastened the necklace around your neck, his fingers lingering for a moment against your skin. When you turned back to face him, his gaze was full of warmth and something deeper.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice barely audible. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned closer.

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared. But then, Charles pulled back slightly, his expression turning serious. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded, your stomach knotting at the shift in his tone.

“Who told you I was talking to other girls?” he asked, his voice calm but firm.

You hesitated, guilt twisting in your chest. But you knew you couldn’t lie to him. “Arthur,” you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor.

Charles stiffened, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. “Arthur,” he repeated, his tone unreadable.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any sign of anger or betrayal. Instead, his gaze softened as he took a deep breath. “We’ll deal with that later,” he said, his fingers brushing against the pendant around your neck. “Right now, all that matters is us.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you felt the weight of the moment settle between you. Despite the tension, there was a sense of peace—a feeling that, no matter what came next, you and Charles would face it together.

Part 16

Tag list: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22, @victoriaholland, @abq654, @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @anaferreira-4, @larastark3107, @itgirlofthecenturysposts, @boherahpsody, @iamkaku, @jz12, @boherahpsody, @urfavouritef1girly, @meglouise00, @charlesgirl16, @a-beaverhausen