#but job means almost no time to write so ugh

[adumbratrapedme]

“Caught, Almost!”

Pairing: kenma x reader

Synopsis: you and kenma. needy. school grounds. almost caught. ok? ok.

Warnings: “public” sex, smut, +18, p in v, etc. idk im too lazy to properly tag this uhhh, is my first time writing smut cuz i usually get too nervous while writting it ngl (i take constructive criticism, sooo point out what i could do better. thank you!). nyan!

╭⋅Tbh not even you know how you guys enfed like this huh ╭⋅You where supossed to JUST GO AND FIND YOUR BOYFRIEND that was skipping practice (again) ╭⋅He was tired you know?? You guys just finished exam season and! He got a new game! Common!! Let my man rest!! ╭⋅Anyways, you didn’t care, sorry ken ken, disadvantages of having a manager gf unu ╭⋅So, tbh i would never take kenken as someone that has public sex? But i mean lets try to understand him ok? A full exam week, no gf, no kisses and the only opportunities you had to get together he got cockblocked! Wether it was his or you family ╭⋅When you finally find him sitting in his desk playing with the psp you try to pull him away but he does not comply! ╭⋅Until well… you get irritated and start saying that you’d do anything he wants!! ╭⋅So here we go :3

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Kenma~!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty halls as you searched for your elusive boyfriend. Frustration bubbled inside you, and just as you were about to give up, a familiar mop of pudding-colored hair caught your eye through the window of an empty classroom. “UGH! THERE YOU ARE!!” you huffed, storming into the room, Kenma flinched at your sudden outburst, his eyes still glued to his handheld console. "You're still looking for me? So... practice isn't over yet? Great..." he muttered under his breath, clearly bothered by the situation.

"Honeyyyy~" you groaned dramatically as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. He didn't budge, his fingers tapping away at the buttons, “keEeeEn~” you whined, playfully trying to push him out of the chair.

"Come on! Kuroo is going to kill me if I don't bring you back!"

Still no reaction.

You leaned in closer, pressing your cheek against his. "Do you really want your beaaauuutiful girlfriend to fail at her manager duties, huh?"

Kenma finally sighed, his gaze never leaving the screen. "

...If it means

you'll leave me alone, then... sure."

"UGH! Kenmaaaa!" you pouted, slumping dramatically in front of him.

Dropping to your knees and hugging his legs you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes. "Please?"

His fingers faltered for a second.

"You're so annoying.." he muttered, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After what felt like hours (okay, maybe just ten minutes) of begging and pressing Kenma to go to practice, you finally hit your limit. Refusing to stand from your spot on the floor, you crossed your arms and gave him your best fake teary eyes, complete with a trembling pout.

“Fine then… let them fire me from my manager position,” you huffed dramatically. Kenma finally glanced down at you, his expression flat. “Y/N… this isn’t a job. They won’t fire you.”

But then — ngh! — his gaze lingered. The sight of you sitting on the floor, all pouty and vulnerable? That triggered something in his brain.

Neurons? Activated.

Kenma? Horny

Y/n? Annoyed

Crops? Watered.

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he averted his gaze, but his voice softened. “But… maybe there’s something we can do… if you really want me to go back to practice.” Your eyes lit up. “YAS! I knew it!” You leapt from the floor, wrapping your arms around him in excitement. “Come on, tell me! I’ll do anything you want!”

Kenma blinked, momentarily stunned by your enthusiasm, before a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well… you know how we haven’t been able to spend much time together lately?” You nodded eagerly, not missing the way his voice dipped into a quieter tone.

“And how every time we try to be alone… someone interrupts us?” he added, glancing at you briefly before looking away again, the blush deepening.

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, heart thumping in anticipation. Kenma cleared his throat. “Well… maybe we can do it now.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait… here?” “The school’s practically empty,” he murmured, setting his PSP down on the desk. “Only a few clubs and… maybe a janitor. But if we’re careful…”

He finally looked back at you, and the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“You serious?” you whispered.

Kenma leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Only if you want to.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

So... in the end, you gave in—how could you possibly resist that pudding-colored mop of hair? And now, here you are, in this exact moment.

You're leaning over his desk, your hands pressing against the surface.

Honestly, you feel a little exposed. Your boyfriend's behind you, and you can feel his gaze, while all you can see is what's right in front of you. You feel his cold hand lift your skirt, the breeze of his breath hitting your core, making you shiver just a little..

"just look at this, huh kitten? i barely even told you what i wanted and you are this wet already?” he said as he pulled down at your underwear, “ so eager to please me huh?” He said leaning into you and giving your ear a few kitten licks.

"P-Please, Kenma," you whispered, a hint of shame in your voice. Doing this in school? It felt so forbidden, so sinful. But deep down, you couldn't deny it — you'd been waiting for this moment just as much as he had.

To be honest, Kenma had wanted to tease you a little longer, but even he couldn't hold back. After the past week of restraint, he was too pent up to keep it inside any longer.

"So whiny..." he murmured while placing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, while one of his hands ran down your shirt until he reached your breasts, the way he squeezed them was very rough, but it was the right one for that moment, his hand was massaging them and the other was busy unbuckling his belt.

"I'm sorry darling..." he whispered into your ear while holding his member with one hand and rubbing it against your entrance earning a soft moan from you "you know that normally I would go slowly but... I don't think there's enough time for that right now"

You nodded in agreement, eager to feel him inside you, you hadn't realized how much you needed this, how much you missed his hands, his kisses and his caresses...

Just when you were lost in your thoughts a sudden pressure at your entrance made you yelp, Kenma's hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulled you closer. His breathing was uneven, his gaze heavy with desire as he leaned in.

"Ahh... Y/N..." His voice came out low and hoarse, roughened by the tension building between you. He pushed in deeper, his movements purposeful, each one making you gasp as your body adjusted to him. "You're so tight... nghh..." The way he muttered it, half a groan and half a breathless confession, made your stomach flutter.

A whimper escaped you, soft and broken, your lower lip trembling as you tried to speak through the haze. "K-Kenma... it's so big, I-"

Before you could finish, he picked up his pace, each movement making you lose more control over your voice. You couldn't stop the sounds slipping from your lips, and just as quickly, he silenced you with a kiss - rough, needy, possessive. "I like you better when you just moan for me," he mumbled against your lips, his voice low and commanding.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, making you melt into his touch.

You could feel the tension in your body rising fast, and by the way Kenma gripped you, he could feel it too. The way you clenched around him made him groan softly, his head dropping to your shoulder as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving faint marks behind.

Normally, he would slow down - tease you, drag things out until you were begging for more. But this time, he couldn't hold back. His own release was close, and it showed in the way his thrusts grew more erratic, rocking the desk beneath you as he pushed deeper.

"Fuck... baby..." His voice was husky, strained, filled with urgency as he buried himself in you. "I'm really close..."

You couldn't hold back your own moans any longer. The intensity of his movements, the weight of his body against your back, the sound of his voice — it was all too much. You didn't care if anyone could hear, if anyone walked by. All that mattered was him.

Kenma's fingers tightened their grip on your hips, his forehead pressed to yours as he pushed you both toward the edge. His heart was racing, his breath ragged in your ear, and you could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter.

"Kenma... please." you whimpered, your voice trembling as you clung to him, your body shaking from the overwhelming sensation.

He groaned softly at the sound of his name falling from your lips, his movements never faltering. He could feel how close you were — he always knew your body better than you did.

And though his usual control would have him drawing things out, this time he couldn't stop. His release was so close, right there, and he didn't want to hold back.

Twenty minutes in, and he already had you falling apart twice. But still, he kept going, chasing that final high — for both of you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Kenma's forehead rested against your back, his breath hot and uneven as you both tried to steady yourselves.

His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns under your skirt, a stark contrast to the urgency from moments before. There was a softness in his gaze now, something tender beneath the layers of intensity that still lingered in the air between you.

"Are you okay?" he murmured quietly, his voice softer, more familiar. The concern in his tone made your heart ache in the best way, and you nodded, lips curling into a faint smile.

"I'm okay," you whispered, though your voice still trembled slightly from the aftershocks, your body now fully resting in the desk in a weak attempt of catching your breath.

Kenma's lips twitched into a small smile at your answer. He wasn't always great with words, but his actions said enough. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you before before turning you around, facing each other, his forehead brushing yours in a quiet moment of calm.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence was comfortable, filled only with the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint creak of the desk beneath you. His thumbs rubbed lazy circles over your skin, grounding both of you as you melted into each other. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" he asked after a moment, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. It wasn't like him to ask, but there was something different in the way he looked at you now — more vulnerable, more open.

You shook your head, cupping his face gently. "No... it was perfect," you said softly, and you meant it.

Kenma sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned into your touch.

His lips pressed a lingering kiss to your palm before he pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around you like he couldn't bear to let go just yet. "You make me feel things I never thought l'd want," he admitted quietly, his voice almost shy. "I've never... wanted someone like this before."

The honesty in his words made your chest tighten, and you couldn't help but smile as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered against his skin. "You don't have to be afraid of wanting me."

Kenma's arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His heart was pounding against yours, steady and strong.

What you both thought would be a peaceful moment didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped. For a brief second, you let yourselves forget that you were still on school grounds, thinking you could steal a quiet moment together. But reality quickly came crashing back in the form of a loud, obnoxious voice that both of you knew all too well.

"KENMAAAAAA... Y/N!" Kuroo’s voice echoed through the hallways, sharp and unmistakable as he called out for you two. It was impossible to ignore. You exchanged a glance, both of you groaning internally.

"Come on, Y/N, I trusted you!" Kuroo’s voice whined from further down the hall, his footsteps growing louder as he approached.

"Shit," Kenma muttered, clearly irritated. He quickly pulled away from you, his eyes darting around in panic. "We should hurry," he added, his tone serious now.

Both of you scrambled to adjust yourselves. Kenma straightened his uniform with a quick tug at his collar, while you did the same at your skirt. You couldn’t help but glance at Kenma, biting your lip in a mix of amusement and slight concern.

"Do I have sex hair?" you asked, half joking but also genuinely curious, Kenma paused for a split second, giving you a once-over before shrugging. "Hmm... maybe just a little," he said nonchalantly, brushing his fingers through your hair to tame it.

"Great," you muttered, pushing your hair back into place as the sound of Kuroo’s voice drew closer. You had to think fast before he found you both in the hallway, and judging by the way Kenma was glancing nervously in the direction of the noise, he was already calculating your next move.

You both braced yourselves for what would surely be an uncomfortable encounter, wondering if this "moment of peace" was truly ever meant to be.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[skrunksthatwunk]

finally looked up whether ill lose my state scholarship if i drop out after lowkey deciding i probably need to and the answer is yes 😶

[birbabri]

A bit of a vent here.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private session part2 is needed!! We all know Barry can be a dick head and he actually considers adding the having sex with a stripper option to customers when y/n finds out about this she obviously mad and saying no but when rafe finds outs about this he’s obviously mad and goes to Barry pissed saying wtf is this he obviously dose not want y/n to have sex with anyone else but him

Private Session - part two

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases. When he finds out Barry has been selling you to customers, he gets jealous, insisting that you must not sleep with anyone else.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe and Barry do cocaine), bondage (reader is tied up), p in v, unprotected sex, language, SLIGHT degradation, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 4.8k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. This fic is NOT proofread, it's almost FIVE AM and I have school tomorrow, well, today I guess...UGH. I just got this request and had to write this!! Also thank you all for the support on part one?!?!?! That's INSANE, I love you guys! I wanted to get this out asap for y'all. Sorry if it's actually shit, I'm so tired and also high. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

Some time has passed since your ‘private session’ with Rafe. The first time you’d come back to work after your session with Rafe, Barry had talked to you at the beginning of your shift. Apparently, after seeing how much Rafe paid you for just one hour alone with him, Barry was inspired. He had told you that the club will now be providing a new “service” to well-paying customers. Customers now have the option to have sex with the dancers for the right price. Barry knew better than to sell his girls out for cheap, so the cost is rather high. And there’s typically only two types of men that have both the means and the money for it: the rich, old sugar daddies who probably can’t even get it up on their own and the rich, horny assholes of the island, take Rafe for example. 

When Barry had told you this, you were pissed. This was not in your job description; you’re a stripper not a hooker. You wanted to yell at him and quit. The issue is that when you got this job, you had signed a contract with Barry stating that you’d have to work there for at least a year or else you’d have to pay a fee. Knowing Barry, it’s a ridiculously large fee, ensuring that no one quit before their year was up. And it’s likely that the contract he made you sign isn’t even legal. But you're not going to try and find out, knowing that even if it’s not, that doesn’t matter to Barry. He’ll make you pay. And you don’t have that kind of money, that’s why you’re in this position in the first place.

Over the next few weeks, you’ve noticed that Rafe hasn’t been coming in as much. Not while you’re working at least. The few times he has come in, he hasn’t been alone, always coming in with a few other kooks and barely paying any attention to you. Which is definitely not normal for Rafe. You just assume that since he’s had you now, he’s lost his interest. You expected that you’d be relieved when he finally stopped watching you like prey, but now you’re not exactly sure what you feel. Does he not find you attractive anymore? Did he just lose interest after finally getting what it is that he had craved for so long? God, was it just you; did he see who you really are and run in the opposite direction? You knew that whole experience with him was too good to be true.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the door to the back room open. Quickly, you grab one of the dresses hanging in your locker and slip it over you; it’s what Barry told you to wear over your lingerie when you do at-home sessions with clients. You turn, watching as your boss and none other than Rafe Cameron stumble in through the door. Rafe goes quiet, his expression going dead as he lays eyes on you. 

“Lookin’ good”, Barry whistles. “Where you headed, princess?” He asks as he turns away from you, sitting on a chair. Barry leans back in his seat, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie full of white powder. You’ve always ignored his side business, always pretending you don’t see any of it. Which is what you do right now. Trying your hardest to ignore the fact he’s preparing a line on the small, glass coffee table, you finish up what you’re doing and close your locker a bit harshly.

“I have a client waiting.” You snap. You walk closer to where Barry is sitting and turn your back to him. “Tie me?” You ask, holding your hair up and waiting for him to tie the complex strings of your backless dress. Though he’s currently busy doing a line of cocaine. Without hesitation, Rafe steps closer, his fingers moving to tie your dress. You don’t have to see him to know he’s the one tying your dress. Your skin just immediately remembers his touch, causing chills to run down your spine at the flashbacks of that night. Rafe notices your slight shiver and smirks as he tries to figure out how the straps of your dress go. His hands linger on the skin of your lower back for longer than they need to and your breath hitches each time his skin comes into contact with your own.

When he’s done, he sits on the couch across from Barry, facing you. You turn back to them, not bothering to thank him. To be honest, you’re a bit pissed at him for starting this whole sex with customers thing. You know he didn’t intend to, but he’s the one who gave Barry the idea. 

Barry speaks up again as he wipes the excess powder from his nose. “When will you be back, I need you out on the floor.” 

I can’t do fucking everything, you think. Although your words come out much more politely. “It’s an at-home appointment so probably an hour.” You’ve had this client before, he typically finishes pretty quick. 

You hear Rafe’s loud breathing as he snorts a line which grabs your attention, making you briefly turn your head to look at him. You watch as he leans back, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply as his high takes over. Rafe slouches in his seat, spreading his legs wide, making you quickly look away. Of course he notices how you’re reacting to him, he always notices everything about you. He crosses his arm and lets out a small sigh. 

Rafe’s tone is sharp as he cuts in. “At-home?” He questions, still trying to act as though he doesn’t care about the conversation you and Barry were having. 

Barry’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight before turning to look at Rafe. “We now offer a new service: you can fuck any of ‘em bitches now.” You make a face at Barry’s words, not liking how he described you and the other girls. Usually he’d never say that in the presence of one of his “bitches”, but Rafe and Barry always brought out the worst in each other; their behavior much worse when they’re together. 

“Wait, what?!” He asks, sitting up a bit before calming himself down. He leans back against the couch, trying to seem all nonchalant. “So, they’re hookers?” He questions more calmly as he looks over to you. You recall having to tell him you weren’t a hooker the last time you saw him. You scowl, hating that he’s trying to prove you wrong and rub it in. 

“Hookers, bitches, call ‘em whatever you want. I should thank you for giving me the idea. I mean, do you have any idea how much money this is making me.” Barry boasts. “And miss pretty princess over here is our top money maker.” Barry gestures to you as you stand there, waiting for your chance to leave. “She brings in the most customers. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” You nod. Everytime Barry gets high, he doesn’t fucking shut up. Rafe just nods his head dryly, leaning down to snort another line of the white substance from the table. 

You take this as your queue to leave and you walk out through the door and back into the main part of the club. You walk through the crowd and search for your client. Leaving Rafe with a few moments to think in silence before Barry starts yapping about all the guys you’ve been fucking. Rafe is fucking furious with this new addition to the club. He had never intended for Barry to take inspiration from his actions, he just needed you. And now anyone else who wants you, can have you. How is it that you could say that you don’t go home with guys often, and turn around and go fuck a bunch of guys for a living right after? Was he just another client to you? Rafe can’t take it anymore and decides to take action. He shoots up from his seat on the couch and storms after you. 

As you’re walking, you feel a hand grip your arm and spin you around. You’re almost chest to chest with Rafe as he speaks down to you. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I have a client.” You explain, again. 

“The fuck you mean ‘a client’?” 

“You’re not the only one who’s willing to pay just to fuck me, Rafe.” You say coldly. 

He chuckles, responding sarcastically as he stares down at you with his wide, dilated eyes. “Thought you never went home with random guys?”

“I didn’t. Until you gave Barry the idea of selling me out to strangers for a quick buck.”

Rafe sighs, his grip on your arm loosening. “That’s not what I wanted. I mean c’mon, you think I want other guys fucking you?”

The implication in his words shock you, but you try not to read too much into it. Before you get the chance to respond he lets go of your arm, letting out a deep breath and shaking his head. Without question, he pulls his wallet out from his pocket, flipping it open and looking up at you. “How much is he gonna pay?” You stare at him blankly, confused in what he’s doing. He huffs out a long breath shutting his eyes for a second before bringing one hand up to snap in your face, grabbing your attention. “The guy, your…” his hand waves around in the air, gesturing outwards as he momentarily stutters. “...Client, or whatever. How much was he going to pay you?” He speaks more slowly this time, as if you’re stupid or something. 

“Depends.” You answer. The client you’re supposed to be meeting right now didn’t have an exact time planned, but you know how much he typically has the stamina for. 

He purses his lips, shifting on his feet. “Ballpark.” He demands. His gaze darted between your eyes, constantly shifting to look at both. 

Still confused, you hesitantly respond to his question, stuttering as you speak. “$800.” Immediately, he starts to count the money in his wallet, taking out the eight-hundred and then some. Rafe hands the cash out to you, but you don’t take it right away so he tucks it into the low cut neckline of your dress.

“There, now I take priority.” He takes hold of your arm again and drags you through the club and out into the parking lot. He walks you up to his truck, which you can now recognize. Rafe pulls the passenger door open for you and walks around to his side, climbing in and starting the engine. You know to get in, shutting the door behind you and buckling your seatbelt before looking over at him. Your stomach tightens as his eyes undress you. Rafe finally turns his head away, reaching over his shoulder to grab his seatbelt. Suddenly, it’s like the image registered in his brain and he whipped his head back to you, glaring at your thighs.

You noticed him staring at you, looking down into your lap. The super short dress you were wearing has ridden up, revealing the few hickeys that are spread over your inner thighs. His eyes find the others on your neck as well and he knows he wasn’t the one to leave them. You try to keep your customers from leaving hickeys and other marks in your body, but it’s like the more you tell them not to, the more they want to. It makes Rafe almost sick to his stomach when he thinks about kissing you with those marks; marks left on your skin from other men. He can’t stand it. Suddenly his mind is filled with images of you fucking other guys, he tries to shake out the thoughts but he can’t; they’re eating away at him. The two lines of cocaine from earlier not helping the situation, it only serves to intensify his anger. 

As he drives he looks over at you. He starts to rant, his voice booming inside the small tuck cabin. “Bet they can’t make you cum four fuckin’ times in an hour, can they?”  You only slightly jump when he startles you with the increasing volume of his voice. “They can’t fuckin’ touch you like I can, huh?” He glances at the road shortly, then he turns his head back to you. “Nobody makes you feel as good as I do, yeah?” He waits for a response.

You catch the hint. “Mhm…yeah.” You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

When you get to Tanneyhill, Rafe comes to an abrupt stop in his driveway. He wastes no time before getting out of the truck and rounding the front of it to get to your side. Rafe pulls the passenger seat door open, grabbing ahold of your arm again. He tugs you inside, shutting the door behind you two. 

As soon as you hear the door shut, his lips are finding yours and attacking them. In the moment, he decides that his bedroom upstairs is too far and he takes you into the kitchen. He continues to kiss you, walking you backwards until your lower hips bump into the counter; in which he grabs your waist and lifts you up to sit on the counter. One of his hands finds its way underneath your dress and between your legs. In quick movements, he tugs your lacy thong down and off of your body. Once they hit the floor, he’s pulling your legs apart; forcing them to spread wide so that you’re exposed and accessible to him. Your pussy grows wet in anticipation of what he’s going to do to you; which is something that none of the other men have been able to make you feel.

Rafe brushes a light hand over your cunt, groaning into your mouth as he discovers how wet you are for him. Not some random guy at the club, but him. He continues to kiss you, swallowing the small moans that try and escape your lips. His hands move to his belt, working on getting it off. Once it’s off, he pulls his jeans down and steps out of them; only breaking the kiss once. The next thing to go in his boxers; he slides them down and lets them pool at his ankles.

With absolutely no warning or further preparation, Rafe slams into you. You choke out a moan, tilting your head back. Rafe starts to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear just so that your cunt can squeeze around him even tighter as he jackhammers into you. “Fuuck…so tight.” He groans. “Did anyone else fuck you like this, hm? Did anyone else’s cock stretch you out like this?” He growls into your ear. His hand snakes around to the back of your head, gathering all your hair and tugging your head back so that you were looking at him. “That was a fucking question. Fucking answer.” He demands.

“I…”, you cry out as his cock repeatedly hits the extra sensitive spot deep inside you. A spot that nobody else can reach like how he does. “N-no…just you.” 

“Just me, what?” He continues, enjoying your struggle to form words as he fucks you at this pace.

“Just you can fuck me like this.” You admit. You’re not even saying it because he wants you to, but because you can honestly say that nobody’s ever fucked you like how he’s fucked you. 

“Good girl.” He praises. He runs a hand through your hair and slows his speed to a very slow, careful pace, admiring your features as your face contorts with pleasure. After about a minute, his hand finds your clit, his fingers rubbing harsh circles as his thrusts speed up to an unbearable pace again. He places a hand on your chest, pushing you down so that you’re laying with your back flat on the counter. 

The cold counter adds to the intense feeling. He pauses for a moment to pull your shiny, little dress up past your hips to keep it out of the way. When he continues, he’s drilling into you faster than before, giving you the last bit of his anger through his thrusts. Your back begins to arch off the counter, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. And just as you’re about to see stars, Rafe pulls out of you and steps back, pulling his boxers back up from his ankles.

An involuntary whine escapes your lips when his touch leaves you and you sit up on your elbows, trying to figure out why he stopped. Except he doesn’t say anything, he just lifts you up, carrying you upstairs and into his bedroom. 

When you get into his room, he sets you down just before the bed. “Shit, I almost forgot.” He mumbles. You furrow your brows and follow his gaze to his bed. On his bed sits a small gift box. You look back at him to find him staring at you. “Open it.” The demands, his tone almost displaying a small trace of excitement. 

You look back at the box, taking a few steps closer to the bed. You reach out to flip over the small tag on the box, it reads: ‘To: my favorite hooker’. Your breath hitches. He’s so frustrating with his persistence of using that word, ‘hooker’, when he knows you aren’t one. Well, you didn’t used to be one. But you have to admit, this seems almost…sweet, in a way. Sweet for Rafe anyhow. You fight back your smile as you reach both hands out, carefully lifting the lid off of the box, setting it on the bed. Inside the box lay some very beautiful, intricate lingerie; it’s clearly very expensive, judging on the fact that you can’t even pronounce the brand name. 

Rafe explains, “For what I ripped last time. I told you I’d replace it.”

“You did.” You say, getting lost in his eyes for perhaps a moment too long.

“Take it out.” He instructs and you obey, taking the delicate lingerie out of the gift box. Underneath the set, you find another gift. A vibrating wand as well as some thick ribbon. The vibrator you understand, the ribbon…not so much. You hold some of it up, turning to face him as if asking ‘what’s this for?’. Rafe understands what you’re asking and he responds vaguely. “You’ll see.” Clearly he enjoys keeping you on your toes, and you hate it. 

After changing into your new lingerie, you exit his bathroom and walk towards his bed. Quickly he has you laying on your back. He takes some ribbon from the box and straddles your waist leaning over you as he ties each of your wrists to a separate bed post. He then did the same with your feet. Now you’re all tied up for him, spread out on the bed and vulnerable. 

He leans down, hovering over you. He starts to kiss all over your body, his lips finding any open spot of skin on you. He pauses his kisses for a moment, leaning back up enough to look at you. He tells you, “Don’t wear this at the club.” Rafe leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your chest. “This is for me, yeah?” He mumbles, giving you yet another kiss. “My eyes only.” you nod in response, you agree. This is way too expensive to be wearing to the club.

“Yes, yes, only you.” You desperately plead. 

Rafe chuckles and starts to kiss down your body, He makes a momentary stop at your chest, mouthing over one of your nipples through the thin fabric, his fingers rolling your other nipple between his fingers. His actions elicit a loud moan to escape your lips as your body tenses up, struggling against the restraints. You now understand the ribbon. Last time, he had used rope to tie you up and it would painfully dig into your skin. But the ribbon was soft, not causing pain to be inflicted upon you as your body reacts to his actions. His mouth leaves your breast, moving to the other side, ensuring that it wasn’t left out. His hand also switches to pinch at your other nipple.

His mouth starts to travel down your body again as his hand reaches behind him on the bed to grab something. He mouths over your clothed cunt, making you whine and shiver underneath him; still sensitive from when he had teased you earlier on the kitchen counter. 

You hear a vibrating sound, but before your brain could register what it is, he’s using the new vibrator he bought for you, on you. He presses it firmly against your clit through the fabric of your panties. Your arms tug at the restraints in response, your legs trying, and failing to close. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed and weak. Lying here helpless as he assaults your small bundle of nerves. 

Rafe pulls your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. He pushes the vibrator directly on your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body at the sensation. “F-fuck!” You cry, your abdominal muscles contracting as your eyes squeeze shut and your toes curl. Rafe leans in, using his tongue to lap up the juices that drip from your slick entrance as he keeps the vibrator steady on your most sensitive part. “Rafe!” You scream his name out as you cum, finally seeing the stars you were denied earlier, the build-up making it that much more intense. 

He pulls the vibrator away, only using his tongue to work you down from your high. When your body starts to relax more, he stops and moves back up your body. He sets the vibrator aside and kisses at your neck, leaving new marks of his own; darker and larger than the others. 

You’re still in shock at Rafe’s decision to use a toy on you. You definitely weren’t mad about it, that’s for sure. It’s just that typical guys won’t want to use a vibrator on you because they want to prove they’re better all by themselves. Rafe’s definitely good at sex, that’s just a given fact. But the confidence he has to use a vibrator on you, mixed with his skill…he’s fucking incomparable. 

Rafe unties your wrists, letting your arms fall and relax. Next he moves to untie the ribbon that ties your feet to the bed. Once you’re completely free, he gives you a moment, knowing how tiring that was for your body. He knows you need to recover if he wants to get more orgasms from you tonight. 

Though you appreciate his generosity, you want to help him out too. So you take him by surprise by placing your hand over his hard cock through his boxers. Except he still manages to be the one surprising you when he speaks. “Fuck…that feels…s’so good baby.” He groans, but moves your hand off his dick. “But let me take care of you, yeah? I know Barry’s got you workin’ a lot, hm? Heard you’ve got the most customers, is that right?” He asks, his hands starting to squeeze and massage at you calves 

“Mhm…” you agree, closing your eyes in relaxation. 

Rafe’s hands move to massage your feet, knowing the tall heels you’re always wearing have to be causing you some discomfort. And he knows he assumed correctly when you let out a deep sigh at his touch. “Nobody ever takes care of you, hm? Always just taking what they want and giving you nothing?” He leans in closer to your ear and whispers, “I like taking care of you.” Rafe starts to nip softly at your ear, making you moan softly. 

After a while, his hands leave your feet, moving back up your body. He gently pulls off the lingerie, setting it on the bed beside you two. He takes a moment to revel in the sight of you, taking in what he is lucky enough to have in front of him. One of his hands finds its way to your slimy folds, gently running over your entrance. He gathers some of your slick and brings it up to your clit as he begins to rub it in steady, slow circles.

Finally, he pulls his boxers off. He uses his other hand to hold himself at the base, gently stroking himself a few times as he looks down at you underneath him. Without much more preparation, he pushes himself inside of you. This time, he moves slowly. His mind isn;t clouded from the effects of cocaine and anger anymore, instead he just wants to help you feel good. He wants to take him time, even though you’re likely not going to last long after your previous orgasm. 

“Shit, so fuckin’ wet f’me. You’re always so wet for me, hm? Such a good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He groans, his mouth right next to your ear so you can clearly hear all his praises. “M’gonna have to talk to Barry for you. Can’t have you fuckin’ those other guys anymore. This pussy’s for me; it’s mine.” His speed gets faster, his pace more erratic as you get closer, your cunt squeezing around him tighter; ultimately bringing him closer to finishing as well. “Hm? You hear me?”

“Mhm…” you nod eagerly, getting so close to cumming that you can barely form a complete thought. “Y-yes Rafe. Yours, fuck! Yours.”

He gathers all your hair, tugging on it so that your neck cocks back, giving him full access to mark it up. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck; sucking and biting at your skin. “Only a slut for me, right? Nobody else, not anymore.”

“Yes…sure, fuck, okay yeah!” You scream. The recognizable feeling of your stomach tightening just for the band to snap, making your back arch off the bed, pushing your body against his as you reach another orgasm. “Ohh…nngghh…f-fucking shit!” You curse, your hand clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off. Rafe understands what you need and does it for you.

It’s not long before he gets to his peak with the way you keep squeezing him; so wet that he just slips right in and out. But before he cums, he asks you a final question. “Can I?”,is all he says but it’s enough for you to know what it is that he’s asking. He’s already done it before, so you don’t see the problem, especially not right now. You don’t even have it in you to say no even if it was what you wanted,

“Mhm…please. Please cum inside me, Rafe. I-I need it.” You admit.

Without wasting another second, Rafe’s movements slow down as he releases his load in you; painting your walls white with his cum. You could feel his warm seed spilling out of you, mixing with your sticky juices. When he pulls out, you feel empty. Your lonely cunt left clenching around nothing. 

Rafe lies down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. You never had taken Rafe for much of a cuddler, but he’s full of surprises tonight. You return the action, wrapping your arms around him and draping a leg over him. 

After you’ve both had time to recover, you still just lie there, enjoying each other's silent company. But you finally decide to break the silence between you two. “Y’know, I have to admit that it is kinda nice to be with someone who can get it up without taking pills.” You joke truthfully, referring to all the old sugar daddies that pay for your services.  

Rafe chuckles at your words. He wants to say ‘I told you so’, to prove that he knew nobody else made you feel the same as he did, but fights the urge. Instead he just laughs. “Oh, I bet.” 

“Did…did you mean what you said about talking to Barry?” You ask on a more serious note.

Rafe looks at you, admiring your soft, tired, fucked-out expression as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Oh yeah, yeah. I can talk to him if you want. He usually listens to me.”

“And if he doesn’t?” You ask.

“Then I’ll make him.” He reassures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I started this, I’m gonna fix it, okay? So don’t worry. You ain’t gotta fuck nobody you don’t wanna no more, yeah? How’s that sound?”

“Thank you.” You mumble to him, your eyes starting to get heavy and droop shut. 

“I hope that means you’ll still fuck me.” He teases, petting your soft hair as he watches you. 

You just nod, too exhausted to engage in his jokes. Rafe just smiles softly, appreciating the fact that he has you all sleepy in his bed; his arms. Of all the time he spent watching you and admiring you at the club, he never was able to imagine this moment.

He presses one final kiss to your head before closing his own eyes, pulling you in tighter. “I’ll take you back tomorrow, that alright?”

“Mhm…” You mumble under your breath, already half asleep. 

“Goodnight.” He whispers, pulling the covers over the two of you. 

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

Again, sorry if this is bad. I'm so tired and too lazy/impatient to proofread/edit. I hope this is good enough to fulfill your request!

[aerynwrites]

Black Paint

Vessel x Fem!Reader

A/N: After almost a week of more i FINALLY finished this omg. sorry for all the teasing it just turned into way more of a beast to write this than i anticipated lol. Now that this is done though I have more of a horror oriented idea surrounding Vessel the character that I want to work on next. Hope you all enjoy! Word Count: 8.4k (oops) Warnings: none

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

The bar is busier than normal. You have to push the door rather roughly to not so politely get someone blocking it to move, and when you finally do make it inside, the air is thick with the smell of beer and warm bodies. 

Great.

You grumble quietly to yourself as you wade through the mass of bodies, laughter and the loud din of conversation assaulting your ears as you approach the bar, a glimmer of hope flickering in your chest when you see your usual seat at the end is open.  The bartender, Ryland, spots you immediately smiling at you as he gestures to the seat that is tipped forward onto the bar to signal its reservation.

He reaches forward as you finally reach your destination, tipping the chair back so it lands on all four legs and you slide into the well worn wooden seat. The patron to your left glances at you, eyes flitting from you, to the seat that you occupied, back to Ryland before dropping back to his glass. 

You smile warmly at the bartender as you pull your scarf from around your neck. 

“Thanks for saving it for me,” you say, talking about the seat. “I hope I didn’t put anyone out.” 

Ryland shrugs already mixing your drink as his eyes flicking to your neighbor for just a brief moment before they return to you.

“Couldn’t leave my best customer without her seat,” he says kindly, his words making you feign an exaggerated wince. 

“Ugh, Ry,” you groan, “you can’t keep calling me your best customer…it makes me sound like an alcoholic.”

Ryland laughs as he slides your already finished drink across the waxed wood bar top. 

“Well…” you chuckle as you take the drink. “Maybe this is sign enough.”

Your friend shakes his head. “You’re not an alchoholic love, trust me,” he emphasizes. “You might be one of the most regulars, but having one drink a visit doesn’t mean that much. No AA for you yet.”

You raise your glass as you laugh, “Cheers to that.”

Ryland opens his mouth to respond but a shout from the end of the bar cuts him off and he rolls his eyes before sending you an apologetic look. “Duty calls, sorry.”

“I get it, go do your job. I’ll be here,” you assure him.

“Oh, I know.”

His words make you chuckle again as he rushes off to tend to more customers.  Usually you spend most of your nights here at the pub after work talking to Ryland. It’s usually just you and maybe a handful of other people, also regulars. Tonight is different though, much busier, and you find yourself slightly disappointed you won’t get to chat much with him. 

You shrug to yourself, reaching down to retrieve the book you’ve been reading from your bag. Might as well pass the time somehow, you drove all the way down here - no point in wasting the trip.

However, as you turn in your seat to reach your bag hanging on the back of your seat, you see a set of eyes on you. Your bar neighbor. 

You ignore it at first, but then remember how he’d looked when Ryland revealed the seat he’d saved had been for you. Without thinking, you grab your book and lean over slightly to be heard over the loud atmosphere of the room. 

“I hope I didn’t take this seat from someone who needed it,” you say quickly, “Did you need it for someone?” 

The man shakes his head at your question, swirling the glass in his hand around idly. 

“You’re good.” 

His words are short, but you immediately take notice of the deep timbre of his voice.

You nod, taking his curt response as ‘back off’ and move to lean back into your bubble when he speaks again. 

“You must be pretty important to have the bartender save your seat though,” he says, lips quirked up slightly. “Especially if you only ever get one drink.”

You let out a small scoff, waving him off. “Nobody important, trust me,” you say. “I’ve just been coming here for a while, and between you and me, I’m a generous tipper - I think that’s the only reason Ryland puts up with me.”

He smiles at that, closed lips pulling rather upward before he tilts his head back to finish off his drink. “That will do it,” he tells you before falling silent as he lifts up a hand to signal for another drink. 

You follow the natural flow of conversation and let it end there as Ryland comes over to take the mans order, you turn back to your book. 

You get through a few pages of your book, successfully able to tune out the noise around you but unsuccessfully able to turn out the stranger next to you. For whatever reason, you find your eyes flitting over to him more often then they should. 

He’s handsome in a mysterious kind of way. You know you’ve never seen him in here before, so he’s not a regular. He’s not here with anyone either, just silently sipping his drink of choice and occasionally flicking through his phone. But otherwise he just seems to be…existing here. Head bobbing to whatever rock music is playing through the speakers eyes glancing around the room. 

However, the one thing that seems to catch your eye most of all are his hands. He’s constantly fiddling with his glass, the several silver rings that adorn his fingers, clinking softly against the sides. But what piques your curiosity is the small flecks and smears of black on his knuckles and staining the ridges around his nails. 

It looks like paint. 

And before you can stop yourself, you find yourself asking,

“Are you an artist?”

This seems to pull the man from his reverie, eyes turning to meet yours in slight surprise. 

You gesture to his hands when he doesn’t answer. “Sorry I just - It looks like paint. on your hands…”

He looks down at his hands, brows raising slightly as he lets go of his glass to absentmindedly pick at the stains. He chuckles as he does, the sound sending a pleasant flutter through your chest. 

“You could say that,” he says vaugly. 

“That’s cool,” you offer a bit lamely, your mind anxiously reeling for a way to continue. 

You hold up your book. “I’m more of a consumer myself. You know…instead of the creator.” 

God, what the fuck is wrong with you?

The man shakes his head, “I doubt that,” he says kindly. “Most people I know who read are the most creative out there.”

You shrug, “I guess that makes sense...” You trail off for a moment. 

He obviously didn’t seem comfortable talking about what exactly he does since he avoided your question so you try to dance around it. 

“How did you get into your…art?”

The man shrugs, starting to fiddle with his glass again. “I think…It started as a way to express myself I suppose. Most art does. Then I just never stopped. I think of it as an escape if that makes sense.”

You nod firmly, once again thumbing through your book. 

“It does. I think that’s why I love reading so much…”

The conversation continues smoothly after that, the strangers seeming more open to talk as you both ramble on about everything and nothing. He asks you about what book you’re reading and you tell him, surprised to find he’s familiar with the author. You both just ramble on from things as simple as interests to eventually arguing about drinks of choice. 

Soon enough you’re on your fourth drink - a first for you really - and laughing about some story he had told you about a friend of his. 

“No way!” You exclaim through broken laughter, cheeks warm from both the alcohol and the sound of his laughter.  “I don’t believe it.”

He shakes his head hand placed over his chest, “I swear it.”

“Oh my god that is…” your words devolve into more laughter as you take another sip of your drink. 

Your new friend goes to speak again but cuts himself off as his phone buzzes on the bar top. His smile falls, only slightly, as his eyes scan the screen before he lets out a small sigh, Turing the screen off and tapping the phone against the solid wood beneath it.

“Duty calls,” he says ruefully, moving to stand as he pulls a pen from his pocket and scribbles something onto a dry drink napkin. 

You sit up straighter now, fighting off the pang of disappointment as he starts to pull his jack on. 

“Work?” 

He shrugs, sending you another one of those half smiles. “Something like that,” he says before pulling out what is obviously way too much money for his two drinks and tucks it and the napkin beneath his glass. 

“Get home safe,” he says, before turning to push his way through the mass of bodies. 

“You too!” You call after him, hoping he heard you over the din of the room. 

A low whistle catches your attention from where you watch the him exit the bar, and you turn to see Ryland has joined you once again. His eyes are bright as he looks at the empty place beside you, the cash and napkin in his hand as his eyes scan over it. 

“What?” You ask, leaning forward to get a peek at the note.

Ryland sends you a wicked grin. “Seems like someone made a good impression,” he chuckles, shwoing you the napkin. “Your tab is payed for, love.”

‘For the lady’s drinks as well. keep the rest.’

The handwriting was surprisingly neat, a mix between print and cursive as it flows across the delicate paper. You glance back up at Ryland as he whistles again. 

“Damn good tipper too, at that,” he admires. “Hope he comes back.”

It’s then, as your friend is drooling over his tip and you glance back down at the note in you hand that your realize it. 

You never even learned his name.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

It’s several types typical days at the bar before you see him again, and to say you’re surprised is an understatement. It had been almost a week since the night you met him, and you had resigned yourself to the fact that you’d probably never see him again. 

So, when you walk into the much calmer bar tonight, your eyes don’t search the room. Instead you make a beeline to your usual seat, waving at Ryland as you do. You hand barely meets the wooden back of the tall chair before a high pitched whistle sounds from behind you, turning several heads in the pub, including yours. 

You csilently curse the way your heart leaps in your chest as you find the source, a familiar face raises a glass from a booth in the back before waving you over. However, unlike last time, he’s not alone. There are three other guys sitting with him at the table, all eyes on you as you glance from them, back to your usual seat, before falling to Ryland. 

Your friend, who stands in front of you now gives you a scathing look. “Girl if you sit down in the chair I just might kick you out. Go,” he points to the table before walking off. 

You can’t stop the chuckle that leaves your lips as you listen to him, hand falling from your familiar place in order to walk towards the back table. 

The stranger from before assess you as you approach, eyes trailing from your face to your feet then back up again, and you can’t stop the shiver that runs up your spine at the action. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. 

You give him a confused look. “I did tell you I was a regular here right?” You ask. “I should be the one saying that about you.” 

He smiles, “Oh I didn’t forget,” he assures you. “How could I forget this place’s best customer?” 

“Oi, quit flirting and let the lady sit down!” One of the other guys at the table interrupts, leaning over from his place next to you to push out the last free chair as he looks at your strange companion. “You haven’t even introduced us.”

At the mention of an introduction, the man seems to freeze, as if he too realizes just like you did last time, that you never exchanged names. 

“Well…Uh, this is-”

You interject quickly with your name, sticking your hand out to the one who had pulled out the chair for you. He laughs at your formal greeting and playfully swats your hand away as he stands. 

“We’re the hugging type I’m afraid, but-” he pulls you into a quick hug before ushering you into your seat, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m iv”

You look at him puzzled for a moment, as you take your seat, spotting closer to the table. 

“Four like… like the number?” You ask, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. 

The man laughs, as if he expected that reaction and nods. 

“You heard right. I’m iv,” he gestures to the man to his right, who has shorter white hair, “This here’s iii, and that-” he points to the man sitting next to your friend, “is ii. And well, you already know Ves.”

Your slight confusion must show on your face as laughter erupts from the table, the boys nudging one another as they all pause to take sips from their various drinks. The one named iii waves his hand in a dismissive manner, shaking his head. 

“It’s a bit of an…inside joke I guess. Nicknames we gave each other that just kind of stuck,” he explains.

You nod at his explanation, still perplexed but accept it nonetheless. And plus, now you know the name of the mystery man from last visit. 

Ves. 

You wonder if that is some sort of nickname too. 

However, you don’t dwell too long on that fact before the conversation last time with Ves comes to the front of your mind. With brows drawn together, you lean over slightly towards Ves, pointing a wandering finger towards the other three guys. 

“Wait, so was one of them the one that went streaking through the park after a night of drinking?”

The grin that splits Ves’ face is all you need to know the answer as a cacophony of groans and loud protests erupt from the table. But it’s not until iii slaps his hands on the table as he leans forward with a betrayed look on his face. 

“Ves, really man? We promised we’d take that shit to the grave! Why are you out here dissing me like that?”

The only response iii gets is a laugh from Ves and soon the other guys follow, elbowing their friend and tossing teases across the table, and before you know it, you join in too. 

***

The night goes on much like that, more stories of their wild times together coming to light, and they even get you to spill some more embarrassing, albeit funny, memories from your college days. Its through these conversations that you determine the must have been friends for a while, and you smile at the thought of what other antics they could get up too. 

This time, and idle chatter also reveals something else to you. 

More black paint. 

It’s still apparent on Ves’ hands like last time, although it looked like he tried to do a better job of scrubbing it away. The same couldn’t be said be said for the other guys. The dark pigment adorns their skin in small amounts much the same way as it did Ves’ the first time you met him. It’s mainly prominent on the ridges of their knuckles and fingernails, sometimes on their wrists when you can see the skin form where their shirts or jackets ride up. You even notice a particularly larger smear on the side of ii’s neck when he lens back to laugh particularly hard at some lame joke you said. 

It’s probably nothing, they probably all work together, it would make sense. But no matter how many times you try to ignore it, your curiosity won’t let it slide. 

And ii notices. Probably from when you let your eyes linger on him a bit too long when you noticed the paint. 

He takes a swing of his beer before gesturing to you with the glass. “Alright, out with it,” he says casually, “I know I’m attractive but nobody stares at me like that.”

iii reaches across the table and swats at his shoulder. “Oi, don’t be so full of yourself mate-”

iv joins in on the banter. “Yeah, we all know I’m the best looking-”

Playful banter breaks out at this, the lot of them seeming to forget about the question ii even asked you, and in the break from the spotlight, you eye drift over to Ves. 

Only to see him already looking at you, a pensive look on his face. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look away quickly, reaching for your glass to take another drink as your eyes fall to your watch. 

Holy shit, it’s late. 

You let out a small huff, quickly downing the last of your drink before setting the glass back on the table with a soft thunk. 

“I have to head out,” you say, turning to gather your purse before moving to stand. 

The announcement brings out a chorus of protests and pleas to stay but you shake your head. 

“I don’t know what you all do for work but I have to be up in...” You look exaggeratedly at your watch, “oh five hours, so with that-” you reach into your purse and pull out several larger bills, laying them on the table, “Drinks are on me tonight as a thank you for a lovely evening.”

More protest follow, but you wave them off and before you know it the three guys you met earlier are out of their seats and giving you hugs as if you’ve known them for years, murmurs of ‘see you around’ and ‘drive safe’ meeting your ears before they back off. 

Then, Ves’ is in front of you before you can blink, and it’s only now that you seem to realize just how huge he is. Well, in reality, he’s not the tallest person you’ve ever seen but he still towers over you and has a…presses about him you can’t seem to place. 

You look up at him and smile as he holds your coat up in his hands, having retrieved it from the back of your seat before you could. He helps you as you slip your arms through the sleeves, and you turn back to him, smile still tugging at your lips. 

“Thanks.”

Ves nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“I can walk you to your car,” he offers, nodding to the windows. “It’s dark.”

You shake your head in an automatic response, “You don’t have to do that-”

Ves’ is steering you towards the door before you can finish, “I insist.”

The boys call out their goodbyes as you leave, and Ves just chuckles as you make for the door. 

“They liked you,” he says as he pushes open the door, holding it for you until you’re both out in the crisp night air. 

You laugh, turning right to head towards your car parked just down the street. 

“I liked them too, they’re a riot,” you say fondly. “I can see why you’re all friends. They seem like good people.”

Ves smiles softly at this, nodding his agreement. “They are - basically saved my life a time or two.”

A silence falls over you too then, neither of you sure what to say as you lead him further down the sidewalk, your car now in view. The only sound is the soft thudding of shoes on concrete and your own breathing. 

Your over active mind races for something to fill the silence, but you reach your destination before you can think of anything, and you try to swallow the disappointment you feel as your night draws to a close. 

“Well,” you say, pulling out your keys, “this is me.” 

You turn to face Ves, your back to your car as he stops just a few steps from you, closer than would be considered normally appropriate. 

Not that you’re complaining. 

He looks down at you again, features obscured by the shadows casted by the street lamps. But he seems to be studying you, that curious tilt to his head making your heart stutter slightly. 

“It was nice to see you again,” he says finally, voice gentle in the quiet night.

“It was nice to see you too,” you say, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth in a moment of contemplation. “I had been looking for you. Before tonight.” You admit. 

His brows raise at that, slight surprise painting his features. 

“Really?” 

You chuckle, “Yeah. I remembered after you left that we never even learned each others names and…it was silly. But I’m glad I got to see you again.”

Ves smiles at your words just a small gust of wind blows though, sending a shiver through you as part of your scarf falls down from around your neck. He reaches up instinctively to adjust the fabric, his knuckles brushing the underside of your jaw as he tugs it back into place. 

“Well,” he breathes, “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

You’re looking up at him again, closer than ever and you can barely muster the weak ‘yeah’ that falls from your lips, before his hand drops back to his side. 

“Have a good night, love.” 

And then he’s walking back towards the pub. 

Your mind is racing again, and like a total dumbass you blurt the first thing that comes to your mind. 

“Baby oil!” You call out, stopping the tall man in his tracks as he turns to send you a very confused look. 

“For the paint,” you clarify, gesturing to your own hands. “Baby oil gets paint off pretty good. Better than soap and water.”

Ves smiles, and just nods turning back to continue his journey.

But even from this far away, the silent night allows you to hear that deep laughter slip from his lips. 

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Today was one of the bad days.

Everyone has them, you know they do, today is just your turn, you suppose. You don’t have many of them, or at least - you don’t go to the pub when you do. But even Ryland notices your dour mood, noticing right away when you by pass your usual seat without so much as a wave in favor of picking the tiny booth at the very back of the establishment. 

He only offers a small pat on the shoulder as he drops off your usual drink, muttering a quiet offering of solidarity before walking back off.

It feels stupid. To be this upset when nothing even really happened. Your car didn’t break down, you didn’t have a partner dump you, you didn’t get laid off, it’s just-

The tears seem to come without warning. Burning at the back of your eyes, lower lip wobbling in an attempt to stop the onslaught of tears and the sob clawing at your chest. 

Get it together!! You scream at yourself, frustration further fueling the tears. 

Life just sucks sometimes for no particular reason it seems. 

Work is overwhelming, your hobbies aren’t interesting, your house too quiet it seemed to scream at you instead of comfort you. 

You take a sip of your drink, wiping furiously at the tears that escape as you do so. 

You’re thankful you chose the booth seat facing away from everyone. How embarrassing to be a caught in a pub crying  over -

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The all to familiar voice shocks you from your own mind and you jump in your seat, making the mistake of looking over your shoulder to see none other than Ves. 

“Oh my god,” you mutter wiping hastily at your cheeks as you watch his lips turn downwards in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, coming closer despite your inner desire for him to leave. 

You shake your head, wiping your nose for good measure as you stare down into your drink. 

“Nothing,” you say, voice clogged with emotion. “Don’t worry about it.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself when you realize he’s sliding in the booth across form you. Plastering on a watery smile you clutch your glass between your hands as you look at him. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you try to say casually, but fail miserably. 

Ves just shakes his head, eyes soft as he rests his clasped hands on the table before him. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, “not with me.”

“Do what?” You say, lip trembling again as your tears bubble up once more. 

“Pretend you’re okay, when you’re not.”

The laugh you let out is a bitter thing, small and broken by the tears that drip from your eyes that you wipe away again and again. 

Ves doesn’t say anything as you try to compose yourself again, but you find yourself unable to, and he eventually stops you from fruitlessly wiping away tears by reaching up to take one of them in his own. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks again, somehow even gentler than before. 

All you can do is shrug, tears salty against your tongue as you lick your lips. 

“Nothing, really,” you say again, continuing when he looks like he’s going to argue. 

“I’m just…sad. Don’t know why.”

Ves nods understandingly, thumb swiping comfortingly over your knuckles. He doesn’t say anything. Maybe because he doesn’t know what to say or maybe because he knows it won’t really matter. Either way you appreciate his presence - it’s nice to know someone is here, even if no words are shared. 

After a few quiet moments, he grabs a drink napkin with his free hand, offering it to you. 

You take it, fingers brushing his own and notice something that takes your mind off of your own turmoil. 

“The paint’s gone,” you say softly, turning his hand over to inspect it. 

You glance up only to see Ves’ lips twitch upwards ever so slightly. 

“Baby oil,” he says, “who knew?”

His words make you let out a soft chuckle, and he joins in, his hand never leaving yours. 

And suddenly, you’re not so sad anymore. 

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Laughter bubbles up from your chest as you and the boys spill out of the bar into the cold night air.  Your breaths materializing in front of you in puffs of white steam. iii is hanging of off iv’s shoulder, doubled over in laughter at something that someone said - you can’t even keep track of the conversation anymore, laughter cutting most of it off anyways. 

However, after a few more long moments of racouys laughter, iii perks up brows raised slightly as he looks to you. 

“Holy shit I almost forgot,” he says, letting got go iv to address you now. “You’re coming tomorrow night right?”

You send him a quizzical look before looking over to Ves where he stands next to you, only to see him waving his hand in front of his throat in a ‘cut it out’ motion, stopping abruptly when you catch him. 

“Go where?” You ask, curiosity piqued. 

You watch as ii rolls his eye, “Come on Ves,” he groans. “We already decided to extend the invitation.”

You hear Ves let out a huff, running a hand through his hair as you speak up again, confusion turning into annoyance. 

“What are you guys talking about?” You ask, exasperation lacing your words. 

It’s iv who speaks up this time, wrapping an arm around iii.

“There’s a concert tomorrow,” he says grinning. “We have an extra ticket and wanted you to come.”

“A concert?” You ask, turning to Ves only to see an almost imperceptible blush tinging his cheeks. “Why are you so worked up about a concert?”

Ves huffs again, shaking his head as he digs around the inside of his jacket for something. “I’m not worked up,” he grumbles, finally finding what he was searching for and pulling it out. “I just-”

II interrupts Ves with a clap on the shoulder and a shit eating grin on his face. “He’s just mad because he wanted to be the one to ask you.”

Ves shrugs his hand off his shoulder and lands a playful punch to his friends arm, mumbling something about being a prick and he’d pay for that later, before he turns to you, offering you what you realize now is a small badge attached to a lanyard. 

“Here,” he says, softer than when he addressed iv. “It’s VIP, just show up an hour before show time and they’ll tell you where to go.”

You take it from him, the black lanyard soft beneath your fingers as you examine the item. The badge is sturdier than you expected, seeming to be made of metal instead of plastic. it’s all black with a red symbol you’ve never seen before printed on both sides the name of the band printed just beneath it with the words ‘VIP PASS’ below that. The lanyard itself is black with white lettering echoing the same as the badge. 

Sleep Token.

Huh. You’ve never heard of them before, but that doesn’t surprise you as you haven’t been a huge music buff most of your life. Then, as if Ves’ words finally register with you, you look up at him again, brows pinched in confusion once more. 

“Wait. They’ll show me where to go - are you guys not coming with me?” You ask, “Because this ticket it wasted on me if you guys don’t come, I don’t even know the band-”

“Oh we’ll be there,” iii laughs from his place next to iv.

The boys all laugh at his words, leaving you feeling utterly left out of some inside joke they have. But before you can get to worked up about it, a warm hand reaches out to take your own that holds the pass. 

“Don’t worry about them,” Ves says, rolling his eyes. “Give me your phone.”

You comply without really thinking about it, watching as the much taller man takes it from you and types something into it before handing it back. 

“There. I put in my number, just text me when you get there tomorrow and we’ll find each other.”

You nod, stomach fluttering as your fingers brush his when you take your phone back and pocket it. 

“Sounds good.”

ii claps his hands together, seemingly satisfied with tonights events. “Alight, now that’s settled we probably need to get going. Big day tomorrow boys!”

The rest of the group whoops in agreement, grouping together as they head down the sidewalk, only Ves lingering behind at your side. Only when he gestures towards your car down the street do you realize he wants to walk you there. 

“Oh, right,” you say, chuckling softly as warmth rushes to your cheeks. 

You’ve been getting unusually flustered around him lately, unable to control the fluttering in your chest when he’s around. 

It’s silent for a moment before you break it, gesturing with the pass to the guys ahead. 

“This must be some band for them to be this excited about it.”

Ves laughs at that, an actual laugh deep from his chest instead of the usual soft chuckles he gives you. 

“Yeah, they…You could say it’s a huge part of our lives,” he says.

You hum softly, looking back down at the pass. 

“Well then, I’m sure I’ll like them if you all enjoy them this much. Ill try to listen to some of their songs on the way home-”

“No!” Ves interjects, voice loud on the quiet street as you both come to a stop in front of your car.

He clears his throat when you give him a withering look, caught off guard by his outburst. 

“I just…” he begins, “they’re best live,” he tells you, rubbing the back of his neck. “Promise you won’t listen to them before the concert tomorrow.”

His eyes seem to be pleading with you, and you can’t find it in you to deny him despite your curiosity. 

“Okay…I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

Ves sighs, relief evident in the way his shoulders drop ever so slightly, and before you can even blink his face is right next to your own, warm lips pressing quickly to your cheek before he’s back out of your space, grinning like a fool.

“Good. See you tomorrow night.”

And all you can do is stare, stunned silly, as he jogs to catch up with his friends. 

You only realize when you pull into your driveway that you never got the location of the concert, or the start time at the same exact moment your phone pings with a message. It’s from an unknown number but lists an address and a time, followed quickly by a second less cryptic message. 

Hope you got home safe. See you tomorrow.

-V

* * * *

Even though you get to the concert venue an hour early like Ves told you too, it’s already packed. You almost don’t find parking until you get lucky with a street spot a few blocks over. When you finally make it to the entrance the line is down the block and seems to keep going. You look around for a line labelled for VIP, anything to tell you where to go, but all you see is the sign pointing to the long line for general admission. 

You pull your phone from your pocket, pulling up Ves’ number to shoot him a quick text. 

‘Hey! I’m here but I don’t see a sign for VIP…where are you guys?’

You wait less than a minute before a response comes through.

‘V: We’re running way later than expected. Find an attendant, they should be able to point you in the right direction.’

You huff at the message anxiety gnawing at your mind as you bit your lip. Late? You don’t know anything about this band or this venue, you don’t really want to go in without them-

“Miss?” 

A voice behind you makes you jump, turning to see a younger looking man with tattoos put his hands up in mock surrender as he chuckles. He’s wearing a t-shirt with the same logo as your lanyard.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says kindly, gesturing to your lanyard. “You’ve got a VIP pass. I can get you to where you need to go.”

“Oh,” you say, looking down to the pass hanging around your neck. “Yeah I was just texting my friend about where to go I don’t…” you hesitate for a moment. “I’ve never been to one of these before.”

The man smiles, holding a hand out as he gestures for you to follow him towards a side entrance to the venue. 

“That’s alright. In your defense we don’t have the best signage for VIP’s,” he chuckles. “We don’t get many of them.”

Surprise tugs at your chest at his words.

“You don’t?” You ask, “My friends are supposed to meet me here, will they know where to go?”

The man chuckles at this, eyes glimmering with mischief as he looks over to you before opening the door to head inside.

“I think they’ll be fine.”

You follow him inside the venue and marvel at the gargantuan space as he shows you around. The stage is set up, lights on but not moving and the bands logo projected onto the back wall of the stage. The venue looks big enough to hold thousands of people. The floor closest to the stage is void of seats, allowing for people to stand up close to the stage while stadium like seats art up about half way back and up all around the room. 

“So this is it,” He says as he brings you up to the side of the front of the stage on the floor, right next to the barricade in a small roped off section separating you from the rest of the open floor seating. “They’re going to be letting GA in here in a few minutes and concert starts soon after that,” he extends his hand to you. “My name’s Sam by the way, if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask someone.”

You smile, your nerves from earlier dissipating slightly at the thought of knowing someone here as you take his hand.

“Thanks, Sam.”

He smiles back, before his phone buzzes in his hand. He looks down at it before waving it in the air slightly. 

“Duty calls. Enjoy the concert!”

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone in the big empty room waiting for your friends.

* * *

‘Ves, where are you guys???’

Your text has gone unread for several minutes, but your nerves are at an all time high as the room around you continues to fill with excited concert goers. The doors had opened half an hour ago and the room was already packed to the brim, people who had floor seats rushing in to be the first at the barricades as the start time drew closer. 

You send another hurried text, looking around you in hopes that Ves and the guys would show up any second. 

‘The concert is about to start!’

For a brief moment, dread settles in the pit of your stomach. What if this is some cruel joke being played on you. What if they bailed last minute and decided not to come, leaving you here by yourself. An ache settles in your chest as the fleeting memory of lips agasint your chilled cheek flashes before your eyes and you go to send another text. 

‘Ves…please tell me you guys are coming.’

As if on command, the room around you goes pitch black, the crowed around you erupting into a deafening roar as the stage lights slowly come to life with the sounds of harsh guitar strings flooding through the speakers. 

You phone lights up with a text message. 

‘V: We’re right here’

The crowds roar around you continues to crescendo as the music flows from the speakers, the blue lights on the stage illuminating a sole figure emerging in the center of the stage to greet the adoring crowd as the drums behind him explode in a rhythmic beat. 

You don’t have time to try to direct Ves’s message, your attention draw and held captive by the presence now on stage. 

They approach the front of the stage, just mere yards from you where a microphone stand sits, and you’re immediatly observing the sight in front of you. It’s a man, that you’re now sure of. He moves to the beat, the black cloak he wears billowing out behind him. He’s not wearing a shirt but any skin that would be showing is covered in black paint - from the portion of his face not hidden by a hood and face mask to his chest and right down to the fingers now wrapping around the microphone.  

The mask is obviously the most striking thing. White with a red symbol of the band painted on the front, missing the lower half to leave his mouth free to sing. 

Which he does. 

The vocalist starts to sing into the microphone, a song unfamiliar to you, but no less enchanting as a streak of familiarity zings though you. His voice sounds familiar in a far off distant way - and for a moment you wonder if you have heard this band before somewhere. 

Without really thinking, you find yourself swaying to the beat, foot tapping against the ground as the bas reverberates through the room. Your eyes flit from the lead singer to another figure you see drifting across the stage, guitar slung over his shoulders as he plays. 

He’s also masked, visible skin inked in black and the suit jacket he wears having a hood pulled up over his head. 

In fact, all the members of the band wear masks with any visible skin painted black. From the drummer to the back up singers to the other bass guitarist now waltzing along the stage towards the section your standing in. You notice as he get’s closer that he’s the only one not wearing a hood, his ash white hair flipping this way and that as he moves to the beat. 

As if sensing your specific gaze on him, the bass player looks up from his guitar strings to where you stand, and sends you a playful wink before turning back the way he came, all but swaggering off. 

It all seems to click into place in an instant, your eyes going wide as they flick from the shock of white hair back up to the lead singer, who’s now pulled the microphone from the stand and walking to your side of the stage, never missing a single word of the song. 

He stops right in front of where you stand, an the crowd behind you goes wild as he reaches out towards them, before bringing just slightly to look directly at you, sending you an almost imperceptible smile before he’s up and back the way he came. 

You can’t stop the laughter that erupts from your lips as realization sets in, you finally push past your confusion to join the crowd in jumping and clapping and trying your best to sing along to songs you’ve never heard before. 

It feels like you blink and the entire time passes by going from upbeat high energy songs to slower more emotionally charged ones. You find yourself completely drawn into the whole experience, especially on the soft songs, and you can tell that parts of himself were poured into them when they were written.

In no time the concert is drawing to a closer the last notes of the set flowing through the speakers as the crowd erupts into more deafening screams and cheering as Ves’ bows thankfully to the arena. You just barely manage to catch it as he looks over to you, turning and placing his hands together in a ‘thank you’ motion before you feel a gentle hand on your elbow. You turn to find Sam, the one who lead you in earlier, gesturing off to the side of the stage. 

“Come with me!” He calls, struggling to be heard over the crowd. 

You nod, casting one last glance over your shoulder before you’re lead out of the main arena to the backstage area. 

“So, what did you think?” Sam asks, genuine curiosity lacing his words. 

You smile wide, adrenaline still coursing through you from the excitement. 

“It was amazing! I’m just sad I didn’t know the songs…”

Sam let out a small laugh, “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to learn them all someday,” he says before coming to a stop in front of a door towards the back of the backstage area. “You can wait in here. Vessel and the others should be by shortly.”

Vessel…

You don’t have time to dwell on the name reveal as Sam opens the door and ushers you inside and barely has time to close it behind you before a round of raucous laughter and cheers assault you as three of your four friends all but jump you as you enter. 

You laugh and hug them all, noticing that their masks are now gone, replaced with the familiar faces you recognize, just streaked with black paint. 

“I can’t believe you guys!” You exclaim once the noise dies down a little bit. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were in a band?”

iii waves a dismissive hand at you, moving to plop back into the couch in the center of the room. “Where’s the fun in that?” He teases, taking a water bottle that iv hand him. 

“Yeah,” iv agrees, taking a seat by iii, “it’s all part of the fun, love.”

You roll your eyes, turning youthful attention to ii who has yet to say anything from his place propped agains the edge of the couch. When he notices your eyes on him, he throws his hands up in surrender. 

“Don’t look at me, I was the one who wanted to tell you. These blokes,” his eyes shift to look at something behind you, “and him - outvoted me.”

You turn to face the object of ii’s attention, only to be met with a familiar towering form, the white and red mask still in place. Now that you’re able to see him up close, you can’t help the way your eyes roam. He truly is imposing like this - not in a bad way - but he seems to take on a different persona adorned in the costume. You take note of the paint still on his skin, but noticeably patchier from where it rubbed off or has dripped away due to the thin sheen of perspiration coming through. And from this close, you’re able to fully see the mask he wears, the intricate details and the way the eye holes are formed to create the illusion of there being 3 sets of eyes instead of just two. 

There’s so many thoughts running through your head, yet the only thing that you’re brain manages to verbalize is a very simple, and quiet - 

“Hi.”

Ves chuckles at this, the sound low and deep as it reverberates through his chest.

“Hi,” he mimics before casting a glance behind you. 

He must have silently communicated with the other guys because you soon hear rustling behind you as the al stand and start to move towards you, and thus the exit. They all murmur quick goodbyes to you, telling you and Ves to come find them later and you al can go out for drinks again, until eventually it’s just you and Ves alone in the room.

Neither of you have moved and you can feel a certain tension in the air that either of you have left to break. Until you finally work up the courage to speak. 

“So…Vessel?” 

The word comes out as a question, and you watch silently as he lets out a small huff, lips quirking upward in a small smile. 

“I figured ‘Ves’ was a more socially acceptable way of introducing myself,” he jokes, reaching up to tap the mask. “Despite what you might think, I don’t try to scare people away.”

He pauses for a moment, hands clenching at his sides slightly before he speaks again.

“So…what do you think?”

You can’t help but perk up at his question, flashes of the concert coming back to you immediately as you practically bounce on your toes. 

“What do I think?” You repeat, exasperated. “Ves, that was amazing! I might not have known the songs that well but it was phenomenal…”

Your words come out faster than you can really control, rambling on about everything you loved about the concert and their music. You’re so caught up in recalling the recent events that you fail to notice as Ves moves ever closer to you, eliminating the space between you both.

“And then when you were on the piano and singing that song I could just tell that you poured your heart into it and it reminded me of that night at the bar when I was upset and you -”

Your words are cut off before you can continue, large calloused hands cradling your cheeks as warm lips capture your own in a kiss that takes your breath away. You barely even notice the way the mask he wears presses into your cheek until one of his hands leave your skin in order to pry the offending article up and off his head, lips breaking from yours only momentarily before kissing you once more. 

You hands fall to his sides instinctively, skin warm beneath your palms as your try to pull him closer.  He obliges your request by moving to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you too him until he eventually breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against your own as you both struggle for breath. 

“You are truly amazing,” he says softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. 

You pull away from him then, just enough to look up and capture his gaze with your own, heat flooding your cheeks. 

“You’re one to talk,” you jest lightly, reaching up to wipe at the pain smudged on his cheeks. 

“Never in a million years would I have guessed you literally cover yourself in paint. I thought you were a painter!” You exclaim.

Vessel laughs at that, eyes crinkling at the corners as he does so. 

“Well, I guess technically I am a painter-”

“Not what I meant,” you argue, reaching up to wipe at something tickling your cheek. 

Vessel reaches up and grabs your hand before you can wipe your cheek again, eyes widened slightly. 

“Stop, you’ve got paint…” 

You glance at your hand in his, only to see black paint smeared over your palms from where you’d touched him earlier. 

“Here,” he says, reaching up to wipe at the smudge you assume is now on your face.

However, his nose scrunches up as he does so. “Oh…” he tries to wipe it again. “I - I’m just not helping at all really-”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles as you imagine him just smearing more paint around in an effort to clean it up, and he soon joins in before reaching grabbing the corner of his cloak to use instead. 

He takes your chin between his fingers, tilting your head to one side as he used the piece of fabric to delicately wipe away the traces of paint. His eyes trial over your features as he works, taking you in until he eventually drops the fabric back to his side in favor of cradling your face in his hands once more. 

“I really want to kiss you again,” he whispers, eyes shimmering with mischief.

You smile.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

And then his lips are on yours, and you couldn’t be happier for that busy night at the bar all those weeks ago. 

[acotarxreader]

Shadow and Flame pt. 1

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: Azriel is down bad in his feelings for Elain when a new female crosses his path. The job of the Shadowsinger is to know all and yet you evade his knowledge.

Warnings: angstish, Lucien being silly

A/N: Hello. This is my first time writing a fanfic for this series. I hope you like it ✨

Part Two

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

“Whilst we wait for Lucien, let's play a game. Fuck, Mate, Kill, High Lords edition, our own brother excluded of course. I mean there's days I want to do all to him”

“Ugh Cass” Nesta recoiled at her own mates idea of a bar game, the group laughing. 

“Hardly fair to Feyre when she's done or almost done those to more than two already” Rhys growled at Mors joking tone, the table continuing its howling. Rita's music swelled around the booth of the best friends, lightheartedness well and truly arriving once again to the group. 

“Az you go first”

“I politely decline Cass” protests followed his words 

“Leave poor forlorn Az alone”

“I am not forlorn Amren” the Shadowsinger tried his best to not grit out the words.

“I would consider pining after Elain to be pretty forlorn” Amren gestured with her head to the middle Archeron sister making her way  back to the booth balancing a tray of drinks.

“Stop saying that word” this time Azriel couldn't hide his annoyance.

“-Right well anyways, I think we'd all kill Tamlin -” the group hummed in agreement to Cass as Azriels mind disengaged from the conversation. 

Was that how he'd been feeling? Had the feelings of creeping crawling rising abandonment at the hands of his brothers for their mates affected him more than he thought? Why couldn't he have what they had with Elain? It made sense to him, but why didn't it make sense to the Mother? He shook this from his head as he frequently did. Elain joined the table once again, passing around the drinks. 

Azriel tore his eyes from her movements and landed them on the crowd of dancing Velaris residents, when a new figure approaching the bar top had his eyes transfixed.

He watched the female dip between the crowd so masterfully as if she was made of the same shadows that rested peaceful around him. She effortlessly passed the dancing Fae in candlelight.

“Earth to Az” Cass’ hand waved in front of his hazel eyes pulling Azriel back to the booth for a moment to sweep away his brother's paw. His eyes darted back to the room to find the female gone again. 

“What is it Lassie, Timmy stuck down the well?”

“What does that even mean Cass?” Azriel couldn't ignore the bizarre statement.

“I'm not sure, I read it in a human book once”

“I didn't know you could read” Cass feigned hurt at Feyres comment, the table of friends laughing. 

“Up until about last week you definitely couldn't Feyre” 

“Uncalled for!” Freye laughed hard at Cass’ comeback.

“Anyways, what is it Az….Az?” Cass found the seat next to him empty, the Shadowsinger long mingled into the crowd.

You reached the bar top skillfully, your hand reaching up and retrieving a drink ordered by someone else and dipping back to your side before the bartender noticed. You gave a small smile into the tumbler of icy brown liquor as you turned back into the room, ready to push back off. Your gaze immediately caught the Shadowsingers eyes as he leaned on the back wall watching you. He simply raised an eyebrow with a small smirk. You sighed lowly, replacing the drink back on the bar top next to a tea light candle without removing your eyes from Azriels. You narrowed your eyes at him, the crowd dancing and swirling across your sightline. Azriel finally blinked and found you gone from the spot when his eyes flickered back open. 

You crossed the threshold of Rita's into the streets, a little startled someone had seen you, a new occurrence. 

“You don't care for another drink?” The males voice stopped you in your tracks at the mouth of the adjacent alley. You curled your hands into small fists and exhaled out. Caught. You had been caught.

“Don't go shy on me now” you slowly span on your heel to face the male. Azriel felt his breath hitch slightly at the sight of you in the firelit street lights. He felt a bit dazzled by your beauty, piercing copper eyes previously inhibited by the dim and smoky light of Rita's. 

“Can I help you Azriel?

“How do you know me?” He couldn't hide the hint of surprise in his voice. You closed your eyes gently, sighing deeply at your foolish slip up before opening them again. 

“I don't”

“Why don't I believe that? Who are you?”

“If I told you that, I'd have to kill you” you gave a small smile, angling your head gently, tempting him to step in closer to your magnetic eyes. 

“I'd like to see you try”

“That can be arranged Shadowsinger” he scoffed at your cocky tone. You turned back to face the alley, quickly dipping down it but not fast enough. Azriel flashed before you, sidestepping you to where your back met the cold brick of the alley. 

“I asked your name” he stepped in close to you, your eyes looking to the exit to the side of him, only to have his wings open slightly to trap you inwards. You sighed, looking up through your eyelashes to find his eyes fixated downwards on you. 

“I'm not anyone important”

“Nonsense, every resident of Velaris is important“

“And who said I was a resident of Velaris?” you couldn't hide your smugness from him as he seemed to scan your face further, checking it again the rolodex of Fae in his mind to find a gap in knowledge. 

His shadows leapt around him in alarm at being caught out with a stranger. A true stranger. Who were you? Shadows crossed his face to try to relay information and when they settled again you were gone from in front of him. 

His wings dropped, his head turning uncharacteristically frantically from side to side only to now find you across the street. You gave a small wave with just your finger tips with a small gloating laugh before running down and into the winding streets of Velaris. Azriel moved to follow you only to crash right into Lucien.

“Are you never not in my way?!” Azriel couldn't help but bark at the emissary.

“Hello Azriel, how are you? I'm good thanks for asking? Yes I do forgive you for walking into me, of course I-”

“Just leave it” Azriel signed, ducking around him to run to cross the street. It was no good, you were gone he thought, but how? And who? 

*************

“Az stop pacing, you're not helping the hangover” Cassian ran his hands down his green tinged face, regretting going as hard as he had the night previous. Lucien giving a small laugh to the Illyrian, picking himself up from the sofa to head to the kitchen for tea.

“I have no idea who she was and that's my job. How could I not know who she was?”

“I'm not sure Az but Cass is right, please sit down, you're giving us all motion sickness” Rhysand joined the group in the sitting room of the town house, a soothing tincture for Feyre in his hands. She smiled up lovingly at her mates gesture, more pangs of jealousy passed through Azriel. 

“Let me see into your mind Az, I'll draw her, maybe one of us knows her” Azriel weighed up Feyres offer. He hated letting them behind his shields but he needed to know who you were. He thought of your face in the candle light again, did he want to share you with the world? He weighed up the options before agreeing, Mor having already retrieved a scrap of paper and a pencil for Feyre. 

The group gathered around the sketch of you freshly drawn. One by one group shook their heads, unsure of the Fae in front of them, sending Azriels heart sinking again. 

Lucien strolled back into the sitting room, tea tray in hand. The crash of the tray had the group's startled reaction landing on the Emissary. 

“Oh my Gods seriously! My head” Cassian groaned, covering his face with a throw pillow. Lucien took almost erratic steps over the broken china towards the drawing, snatching it from the knee height table and gathering it into his chest. The group now entirely addled by his reaction.

“Lucien?” Feyre was the first to break the quizzical silence. 

“Nothing! This is no one!” Lucien's skillful way with words was now long gone.

“Who is that?” Rhysand and Azriel almost asked in unison.

“It's no one I said! Leave it! I have to go, sorry for the mess!” He darted for the hallway, Azriel hot on his heels. 

“Lucien, who is that? What do you know?” The Shadowsingers sharp tone tried to stop Lucien in his tracks.

“It's no one, you didn't see her, forget it, stay away from her”

“Which is it, stay away from her or I didn't see her?” this silenced the Prince of Foxes. 

“I have to go!” His panicked tone was betraying him. Azriel went to catch him harshly, Lucien winnowing out avoiding capture leaving Azriel once again confused and alone

*****************

Part Two

[slamminslamminmcgill]

mm finally watched deadpool and wolverine today, and my god... 🥵 so many thoughts...

Idek which ones to put here. What do you think a p*ss kink would look like with both of them? Or just more of them making reader squirt their brains out.

The dialogue you write between them sounds so natural. Like I can literally read it in their voice. -🐮

LFGGGG thank y’all for giving me an excuse to talk abt this 🙏 i got more ideas but this post would’ve been WAYYYY too long sooo be on the lookout for more debauchery

warning: piss, anal, dp, dubcon, light degradation/humiliation, intox (alcohol for logan)

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

as with most of the fucked up kinks y'all try in this polycule, it happens spontaneously the first time.

logan had just finished inside your ass, and out of the three of you, it takes him the longest to cum. it also takes a lot out of him. he roars and jams his claws through wade's temples (whoopsie! that's why your bed has red vinyl sheets hehe) so there's a dramatic break in the action afterwards.

"ah... hah... ngh, fuck..." he's panting, heaving almost, and slides out of your now gaping hole, "fuck, that was good..." he retracts his claws from wade’s skull, then purrs in your ear and smooches your neck, "good job, kid."

wade, still hard as steel in your cunt, claps excitedly for him. "yay! good job, YOU, peanut! UGH, i love watching you fill him up. you get so... beastly~."

you giggle, nuzzling into wade's tits, feeling goofy and content. a warm load up one hole, and a thick cock up the other.

logan smiles, kissing you on the back of your head this time. “you gonna be okay alone with him for a sec? i gotta go piss.”

"mhm!"

"'kay. i'll be right back, pumpkin." another kiss to your neck, and he's off, walking flaccidly to the bathroom, shaking his fuzzy cheeks.

you drop your head back down against wade’s chest and sigh, "i gotta piss too, actually."

"oh, yeah, yes you do, mister!" deadpool pats you on your shoulders, "always make sure to pee before, during, and after sex!"

you absentmindedly chuckle, until you realize what it is he just said, “wait… during?!"

"hey! thou shalt not knock what thou hast not tried!i know it sounds icky, but hear me out."

he thrusts upwards into you sharply

“fuck!!!”

“so! i want you to imagine…” *THRUST* “how good it’d feel…” *THRUST* “to be really filled up.” *THRUST* “and i mean FULL!” *THRUST* “like your pussy is a searing hot water balloon about to explode. and then when it does?” *THRUST* “when it all comes flooding out of you? oh darling, the relief…” he moans dramatically, gripping your hips and shifting you back and forth on his shaft, “hottest thing you’ll ever experience, i swear. there’s nothing else like it… wanna try it?”

you’re skeptical, but wade wilson is a hell of a salesman. “…fuck it. let’s do it.”

“yippee!!! okay, just gotta get soft so i can piss. dead kittens… calculus homework… grandma deadpool! there we go! okay… phew… here goes…”

it’s a tense, awkward silence as he starts. you’re not sure what to expect. then, you begin to feel it. that searing heat swelling inside you, pooling between his cock and your skin, flooding what little space there was inside you. you gasp, and attempt to squirm to cope with the sensation, but wade holds you still.

“don’t move! don’t move, my little urinal boy! mmm, i gotcha, just… just trust me on this… i’m almost done…”

“you two are fucking disgusting.”

logan’s voice coming out of nowhere makes you jump, and then wade’s piss spills out of you. and just like he told you, it feels fucking incredible. you’re twitching, spasming, moaning pure nonsense as wade fucks your drenched, desecrated cunt. loud splashing accompanies the brutal pace of his hips.

“your loss, peanut! imagine wasting your piss on the bathroom toilet when you could’ve given it to this even cuter toilet!” he pecks you on the cheek with a loud “mwah~!”

from then on, it becomes you and wade peeing on each other just to mess with him. since he’s never told y’all to stop, you both figure that he likes it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

the three of y’all are showering together

“so, just asking as a throuple here, are we all pro- or anti-peeing in the shower?”

“if you get piss on me, i’ll stick my claws through your fucking corneas.”

“promise?!”

”don’t. you fucking. dare.”

“aw, boo, you’re no fun.” wade pouts, then grabs you by your wet hair and pulls your ear towards his lips. “you, though… you’re TONS of fun.” he playfully bites your ear, and then your neck. “so fun, in fact, that you’re gonna get on your knees and drink every drop of piss that i give you, right?”

i feel like the only time y’all can get logan to participate is while he’s drunk. he’s too sloshed to feel shame for it.

maybe y’all are in bed together, all cuddled up in a tangled mess of limbs, and he grumbles something about needing to take a leak.

“oh, don’t worry about getting up, honey-bun!” wade fishes under the blankets for logan’s soft cock, “lemme take care of that for you.”

“wh… the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“ugh please, don’t act like you haven’t thought about pissing down my throat. can’t i just once do something nice for you?”

he grumbles, not wanting to indulge wade, but not wanting to get up even more.“fine. whatever. i hope you choke on it.”

“oh, i will.”

[mari-thesapphic-lady]

Agathario pregnancy dialogues prompts:

-

(I had a lot of fun writing this, I have a lot of ideas about my fanfic and this is a way to share it with you. I haven't posted it yet, I'll probably do it only in November. In the meantime, enjoy these little pieces. It's my own view, but I thought flipping some things around would be funny and it made me think a lot about certain possibilities.)

Note: That's all based on my own fanfiction. Kind an epilogue thing.

Pregnancy dialogues:

“So... you're going to have a child?” “We’re going.” “Oh. Okay. Wait what?!”

“Look, if you don't want it, I can just, you know, make it disappear.” “No! No way! It's mine too!”

“So... no true form for nine months?” “Unfortunately.”

“What if it's a boy?”

“What if it's a girl?”

“NO BABY SHOWER.”

“I'm just going to collect a soul, Agatha.”

“You'll do a good job.” “Thanks.”

“I have a human growing inside of me, I'm not fine.”

“It's a cozy place. A few runes here and there and, there you go, home sweet home!”

“I feel so emotional, I need a slap to stop me crying. Sweetheart!”

“Stomach bug?” “Worse, morning sickness.”

“I'll take that.” “Hey!” “No knife playing for you!”

“My boobs hurt, I can't stop crying and I'm horny all the time, which isn't so bad, but I'm sweating in places I didn't even know humans had sweat glands!”

“Come home to me when you're done.” “Home? I like the sound of that.”

“I know it's the hormones talking, but you’re pissing me off.”

“I'm in the garden, and I don't want to be disturbed!”

“Oh, the neutral face of displeasure. What have I done this time?”

“Nothing fits me.” “Don’t say that, you look fantastic, cariño!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY BABIES?”

“Troublesome twins, mi vida!”

“Agatha, sweetheart, I love you, but if this kids gets your hips I will murder you.”

“Aww, they already look so much like me!” “Agatha! They're symphoning magic! From the womb!”

“I'd say I'm officially pregnant now.” *patting her growing belly gently*

“I've never seen you sleep for so long. I almost thought you were dead but you're Death, so.”

“I'm pregnant, not fashion-senseless. I refuse to wear these clothes.”

“You have been throwing up for hours, I'll make you some tea. Maybe it help.”

“It's enough you trying to kill me sometimes, I don't need the kids on the list.”

“WHAT'S THIS?!” “... a body?” “Not that! Look at you!”

"I don't even know how to change a diaper!"

“Kicking already?!”

“You're clingy.” “As you used to say, It's just the hormones.”

“Can we try the 'having sex to try and induce labor' thing?”

“I'm excited to see you changing a lot of dirty diapers in the near future.”

“I have stretch marks now.” “Keep them, looks good on you.”

“Nicky would love to be a big brother.”

“Using my sentences against me?” “Feels good, doesn't it?!”

“I'm craving sunflower seeds.” “Hun, you just had a huge cherry tart.” “I don't see your point, Aggie.”

“I have to do my job, Agatha!” “Fuck your job! You're carrying our offspring! Think about them! About us!”

“Do you think these babies were a mistake?”

“I think, this could be a second chance for us.”

“Do you think they'll be afraid of me? The real me?” “They're going to love you completely, cariño, just like I do.”

“Winifred? Circe? Agnes?” “Ugh, definitely none of those.”

“Since when do you paint? Wait- that's me? Uh, I look big.”

“What's the reaction of the souls you collect seeing Lady Death with a seven-month bump?”

“I'm not obligated to socialize with other pregnant women every time I go out! Why they don't stop talking too me?!”

“The bump is in the way, we can't have sex.”

“Your kids have been kicking me all day!” “Oh, so they're mine now?”

“How many babies are we having? There is enough clothes for a 100 of them.” “It never hurts to be prepare.”

“I think I'm in labor.”

“You're doing great, cariño, great.” “You aren't helping me!”

“Make it stop!” “Shh, you're almost, they're almost here.”

“Hiya, hun. It's me, your mama.”

“Look at these fingers, sweetheart, how can they be real? They're so, so tiny. Is it normal?” “It's normal, love, twins are just that tiny. Here, hold her.”

Babies/Toddlers dialogues:

“They look identical to you!” “I don't know what you're talking about, that mouth isn't mine.”

“Mami’s got you.”

“Who’s the cutest babies in the world? You are! Yes, you are!”

“I don't remember you pushing this babies out.”

“Oh we do make cute babies.”

“How many coffees is that?” “You try having two babies who refuse to sleep.”

“I'm not afraid of anything.” *twins start crying at the same time* “Maybe one thing.”

“Take a break. I’ll stay up with them.”

“So… the girls are fine, I want you to know that first, they're absolutely fine.” “What did you do?”

“If they won’t stop crying in a minute I think I am going to start crying.”

“Wakey wakey sunshine, it's your turn to change one of them.”

“I’ve never heard her cry like that..” “I tried to keep her calm but, she's missing you.”

“You have your mama's eyes, muñequita.”

“And she stopped me and asked me if I was going to take the girls to be baptized. Can you believe it?!”

“I took a baby's soul today. She was months old, like our girls.”

“Look how cute, they're crawling!”

“I hate sleep. I hate feeling sleepy. I hate sleeping.” “Yes, yes, cariño, now go to bed.”

“They're smiling...” “I told you, they'd never be afraid of you.”

“Stop wiggling! I need to get you changed!”

“If you lay a hand on my child you will lose the hand.”

“Skull lovers. Really take after your mama.”

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, mama has a headache and your crying hurts.”

“Are you day drinking?” “It’s lemonade, not whiskey.”

“Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t… You vomited on me.”

“You're dripping blood everywhere!” “Sorry, is there a place you'd prefer I stand and bleed?” “The bathroom. It's easier to clean up and to keep the girls away.”

“Don’t give your mama too much trouble.”

“Nah-ah-ah, do not eat that, hun!”

“No daycare, Agatha, there's no way! It's the third time in the week that she ripped out an animal's soul, imagine a child!”

“Whiskey, brandy, wine or water?” “Pour me a glass of water and I may be one leaving this time.”

“Come on little one, walk over to mama!”

“Mami, ma-mi.” “Mami!” "... Agatha, she said mami first!"

“Throw your food around one more time and there will be consequences!”

“How did she get there?” “Get down from there little lady!”

“Come on, hon-” “No.” “Pero, muñequita-” “No, mami!”

“I already want one more.” “Let's see how we're handling these two.”

“Te amo!” “... Did she just?”

“Don’t, don't run, honey, you'll fall– I warned you.”

“Di mami, ma-mi.” “Mami!” “Eso, muy bueno, mi chiquita!”

“Cariño, she's unwittingly torturing a squirrel's soul again.”

“Fuck!” “Fuck.” “Nooo. Don’t repeat that, it’s a naughty word. Your mama won't like it.” “... Fuck!”

“Please never become one of the angry teens in the sitcoms.”

“Sweetheart, catch her! She ran away from the bathtub again!”

 “That's a grown-up grimoire, sweetie, why don’t you hand this to me. Yea, that's right, carefully-”

“Mami's bony face!” “Ey, chiquita- Stop laughing, Agatha.”

“Okay, time to sleep.” “ ’nother story?” “Sweetie, I just read you a story.” “Witch's Road!” “Witch's Road!” “Ugh fine, you win, the story or the ballad?”

“You know, i’m kind of surprised your children aren’t seriously injured at this point with you two being their parents.” “Haha, yeah… yet.” “What do you mean not yet?”

“My daughters are more talented in magic than me and they're only two years.”

“It’s your turn, go on.” “They’re your daughters before four o’clock in the morning.”

“My little girl’s better than yours!” “It's not a competition.” “Who said?”

“Mama! Look at me!” “Yes, hun, wh- WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Girls, let go of my dagger, mama won't like this.”

“Fine, fine, rock, paper, scissors to see who has to go calm down her.”

“I don't know how I survived with you cooking.” “Is this how you thank me?” “For burnt pancakes? Yes.”

“Was she crying, because of this?!” “Looks like someone's attached to mami's bony face.”

“Purple!” “Yeah, muñequita, it's mommy's watercolor, spread on the couch.”

“I've caught her watching you when you're outside and I think she's been shy about asking you to take it with you to the garden. You could probably let her help you with your garden.” “She’s just two, Aggie. What if she eats dirt, or worse, the flowers?”

“Agatha, I swear— If we have a child while the others are in diapers I will murder you.” “Why are you saying that?” “I'm feeling something, probably maternal intuition.”

It's probably not what many of you expected, but I always think it's cute to imagine Rio, who's Lady Death, Death itself, giving birth, you know?

Living all this confusion and mess that's pregnancy. It would be cute and funny, the effects of pregnancy on someone considered as powerful as Rio, all the dilemmas of motherhood, after all those centuries, after losing Nicky, and after the pain she and Agatha felt. It's not like I think pregnancy fixes or saves a relationship, that's not the baby's job, who has no responsibility for being there and existing, it's the parents' job to understand each other, and that's exactly what I wanted to explore with agathario here. A few domesticity years and a few adorable daughters.

This all takes place in 2009, and I'm still going to write about them during this period of pregnancy, and probably when the twins were little too.

-

AAA's full of angst but let's see the happy side of all!

We gained so much with them, and I LOVE this couple so much, they made history!

So let's enjoy a little and save our tears before the last episodes!

[tickly-trashcan]

Taking a Break {Kazuha and Scaramouche}

Squealing Santa 2k24!

A/N: Hey hey, happy holidays, @ticklish-n-stuff I was your squealing santa this year!!! :D I really hope you enjoy your gift, it was a joy to write hehe! I also hope that you have a wonderful holiday season and get cozy!! Huge thank you to @cantsaythetword for organizing the event this year, you did a wonderful job! :)))

Summary: It's a surprise!

Word Count: 1.2k (under the cut!)

“Scar, how much longer are you going to work on that?” Kazuha laid down on his back, staring at Scaramouche from his bed.

“Until I finish working through these equations,” Scaramouche replied after a moment, scribbling something down without even turning to face Kazuha.

Kazuha rolled over onto his belly and blew some hair out of his face. “And how many more equations are there?”

Scaramouche wrote something else down and then tapped his pencil against the paper as he counted the remaining equations. “Thirteen.”

“Ugh! That’ll take so long!” Kazuha whined, folding his arms as he buried his face in them.

Scaramouche chuckled dryly. “Well, I have an exam on this tomorrow, and I’m still struggling with derivatives. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to…”

Scaramouche trailed off, taken over by his homework before he could finish his sentence. Kazuha sighed and pulled out his phone, checking the time. It had been almost an hour since Kazuha had come into Scaramouche’s dorm room, and he was getting hungry.

Scaramouche’s roommate, Childe, was off at a sports meet, meaning they had the room to themselves, but all Scaramouche seemed to have been doing was studying. Kazuha was half tempted to just run to a nearby take-out restaurant to get food, but he did not know what to get.

“Hey, Scar, where should I get food from?”

“I don’t have a preference.”

“What about the Inazuman restaurant down the street?”

“I’m fine with anything.”

“Okay, we’ll get that then. What would you like to eat?”

“Whatever sounds good.”

Kazuha nodded, scrolling through the menu on his phone. He and Scaramouche would visit the Inazuman restaurant often since the food was cheap and reminded them both of home. They both had their regular orders, and no matter how many times they said they wanted to try more food from the menu, they always got the same thing.

Kazuha was about to place the order when Scaramouche groaned and laid his head down on the desk. “This is impossible.”

Kazuha shifted. “I’m not distracting you, am I?”

Scaramouche grumbled then shook his head. “No, I’m just– I’m at my limit. Heh, limits! Ugh…”

Kazuha rolled off the bed and walked over to Scaramouche, rubbing his shoulders gently. “You need to take a break and look at this again later. I’ll get some food and then you can work on this after you get something in your belly.”

“No, I just need to power through.”

Kazuha chuckled softly. “C’mon, take a quick break and walk to the restaurant with me. We’ll get take-out and eat back here.”

Scaramouche dragged his hands down his face and groaned loudly. “I just need to finish this, then we can eat. I’m not even that hungry, anyway.”

Kazuha folded his arms across his chest. He decided that the gentle approach was not working and that he needed to change tactics. With a sigh, Kazuha pulled Scaramouche’s chair away from the desk, making him grumble.

“Kaz, you need to let me do my work– Gah!! Hey, put me down!”

Kazuha threw Scaramouche over his shoulder and laughed when Scaramouche began to bang his fists into his back. He carried Scaramouche over to the bed and threw him onto the covers, which flew up a bit from the force. Kazuha jumped on top of Scaramouche and they wrestled for a little bit on top of the bed, but Scaramouche struggled to get anywhere with Kazuha on top of him.

Kazuha eventually managed to pin one of Scaramouche’s arms by his side with his leg. Kazuha held Scaramouche’s other arm above his head and the two of them panted slightly from the exertion. Scaramouche huffed in annoyance and squirmed under Kazuha’s weight, having forgotten again just how strong Kazuha was from his sports.

“Okay, Kaz, I get it! I’ll take– I’ll take a break. But can I just finish that one equation first?”

Kazuha shook his head. “One equation will lead to you finishing them without a break. If I have to keep you pinned here to let your brain rest, then that’s how it’s gonna be!”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes. “It’s hardly a break if I’m just thinking about how much work I have to do.”

Kazuha hummed in contemplation. “Want me to take your mind off of it, then?”

Scaramouche scoffed. “What are you gonna do? Talk my ear off?”

“I suppose I could. Or…” Kazuha grinned, raising one hand and wiggling his fingers.

Scaramouche’s eyes widened and he shook his head, giggling nervously. “Kaz– Kaz, no. Don’t you dare!”

Kazuha only grinned and slowly lowered his hand. Scaramouche squirmed and wriggled, trying to escape, but it was no use as Kazuha finally made contact with his tummy. Kazuha’s wiggling fingers danced across Scaramouche’s tummy, making him squeak and burst into an almost immediate fit of giggles.

“Kahahahaz!! Wahahait– Wait! I neeheeheed to finish my wohohohork!!”

“Nuh-uh, we’re not talking about your work right now! The whole reason I’m tickling you is to take your mind off of it, remember?” Kazuha chuckled, poking Scaramouche’s lower tummy as he squeaked. “Just forget about your homework and focus on something else. Oh, what did you want to get for food?”

“I cahahahan’t– I can’t think ahahahabout food right nohohow!! Stahahahap!!”

“Ohh, I see. We’ll figure out food after I’m done tickling you then. Is there anywhere you want me to tickle you?” Kazuha asked, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the wide grin of amusement on his face.

“NOHohohoHO!!” Scaramouche whined, squirming wildly. He finally got one of his hands free and tried to pry Kazuha’s tickly hand away, but he would not let up. “Kahahahaz– Kazuha, stahahap!”

“I feel like I’m giving your belly too much attention… What about here?” Kazuha began to pinch at Scaramouche’s ribcage, making him throw his head back and cackle. Kazuha chuckled at Scaramouche’s reaction. “Seems like a good spot!”

Scaramouche pushed at Kazuha with his free hand and bucked his hips. He finally managed to twist halfway around, making Kazuha grumble.

“You’re too squirmy! C’mere, you!”

“Leheheheave me alohohone!!” Scaramouche wailed, shrieking when Kazuha began to flip him all the way over onto his belly before straddling his back, pinning him back down onto the bed. “Kahahahaz!!”

“Aww, I can’t get your belly now. Well, that’s okay, I wanted to try another spot anyway,” Kazuha mused casually, making Scaramouche whine.

Scaramouche wiggled from side to side, trying to squirm Kazuha off of him, but he was planted firmly on top of him. He gasped when Kazuha dug his hands under his arms, then burst into a fit of renewed cackles when he began to tickle him.

“Sheesh, Scar, you’re gonna get a noise complaint if you keep that up!”

“Thahahat’s not my fahahahault! You’re tickling mehehehe!!”

Kazuha could not argue with that. Instead, he chuckled softly along with Scaramouche, tickling him a bit more. Scaramouche had his arms clamped to his sides, which did not help much with the ticklish sensations. Kazuha finally decided to let up when Scaramouche’s wiggles got less frequent.

“All good, Scar?”

“Hah– You’re evil, Kaz…” Scaramouche panted heavily.

Kazuha shrugged and got off of him, hopping down onto the floor. Kazuha patted his back until he seemingly recovered and sat up with a sigh.

“Do you still want to get food?”

Kazuha nodded with a small smile. Scaramouche had either decided to take a break or had forgotten about his homework altogether. Either way, Kazuha had succeeded. Kazuha got his coat and grabbed one for Scaramouche, and the two of them went off to the Inazuman restaurant to grab some food. Scaramouche would get back to his homework at some point, but for now, he would take a much needed break with Kazuha.

[valaryswrites]

🪐 where tony baddingham wants you back.

warnings: (requests are open btw) pure fiction, no gender specified, dirty talking and english is not my first language. tony himself is a warning, tho. but again, pure fiction. scroll if you don’t like it. (requests are open btw)

You used to work with him some years ago.

No, not with him. For him.

You were his favorite screenwriter. His golden star. The only person he trusted enough to take some big, important decisions.

Then, you left. Left the country, and left him. There was a different project located on the other side of the world that you wanted to be a part of. And you were.

Tony let you go, knowing that sooner or later you’d be back.

“I’ll make you the highest-paid person in Corinium.” He said, trying to convince you.

“You know it’s not about money, Tony.” You told him firmly, crossing your arms over your chest and hoping he could understand. “You were insatiable. I’m afraid I won’t have enough creative freedom if I work here again.”

But Toby Baddingham hated the word “no”. He liked to think that everything in the world could belong to him.

“Come on, darling.” The man sighed, standing up from his fancy chair and approaching you. Not so close, though. “I can guarantee you all the freedom you want.” He promised. “We used to be a good team, you and I.”

You frowned, but there was a little smirk making its presence in your face. A team… a team? You used to fuck. Work during the day, fuck during the night. It was a routine.

“We weren’t a team, Tony.” You told him. “We were lovers.”

“Well, you used to make me come and I used to make you come.” He shrugged, both his hands in his pockets. “Doesn’t that make us a good team?”

You sighed again, and Tony knew he had to push further.

“Your potencial is wasted without me.” He assured you.

That wasn’t true; and Baddingham knew it as well. Your potencial was not wasted without him.

But hell, he did help. The money, the demands, the defiance. He did make you work better. Write better.

“You have hired plenty of new writers, I see.” You said, pointing to the empty desks outside his office. “Why you insist? Is it because I was the best you ever had?” That chuckling you let out after that last question made his blood boil.

“Of course I have to insist.” He firmly told you. “I know your potencial better than anyone else. I want you here again. To increase the rating and to remember the good old times.”

“To remember what, exactly?” You asked, aware of the answer.

“You know exactly what I mean, dear.” He took a step closer to you. “The late nights in this office, the discussions over your insane ideas, the mind-blowing sex we had…”

Ah, there he was. The Tony Baddingham you knew.

“It wasn’t that good to me.” You lied.

God, it was. It really was.

“You always seemed very satisfied.” He chuckled. Another step.

The way he was closing the distance between you and him was almost magnetic. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was a reflex. It used to be like that, during the the good old times. Magnets.

“Did you find another affair while I was away?” You asked. No shame.

“I’ve had other women.” He admitted. “None of them as good as you, of course.” Oh, that boosted your ego. “As eager and talented. I would have you writing wonders for me in the morning and riding me like an animal at night. It’s difficult to find an equivalent.”

You rolled your eyes, but that grin on your face was present. So, so present. He missed it.

“I miss your body. That bloody look on your face wanting to wreck me...” Tony exhaled, as if he was remembering the sight. “But I miss that beautiful, clever brain of yours too. And I want it back.”

Ugh, he was convincing you. You wanted the job. You needed it. And deep down you knew your writing was at its highest success when you were there.

“Highest salary.” You demanded, while your index finger pointed directly at his chest, almost touching it. “And you won’t turn down any of my ideas without trying them first.”

“And if I don’t like them?” Baddingham asked.

“You’ll give them a fair try either way.” Another demand. “Or I’m out. When did I ever do something you didn’t like, though?”

Not a good question.

“Well, I didn’t like when you left Corinium, and left the country, for starters.” He chuckled. “And left me, of course.” He said, in case you’ve forgotten. As if you could! “I would get into this office very morning and deal with some imbecile people, and then end up here, all alone, with no one to eat out over my desk.” The man teased. Another step closer. “I would sit on that chair, look at my empty desk and think of you kneeling under it…” He continued.

The bastard was making you picture all those things.

No.

No things; but memories. They were real once, during the good old days.

He was so close to you now that his hand traveled to the nape of your neck, and then back to your jaw, caressing you.

“Your pretty mouth, taking such good care of me…” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, and then sliding it barely into your mouth just to touch the tip of your tongue.

So you bit his finger.

Tony hissed, but that smirk on his face betrayed any type of irritation he might be feeling.

“Give me the damn contract.” You said, brows furrowed.

“Ah, that’s my girl!” Baddingham smiled widely for the first time in days. He handed you a stack of paper. “I’ll leave you alone so you can sign it.”

“I’m going to read it first.” You said, threatening him.

“Ah, you’ll be fine with it.” He assured you. “You start next week. 11AM to 6PM.”

“Everyone here leaves at 5PM.” You protested.

“Yes. But not you.” He giggled, about to leave the office. “You’ll work for an extra hour.”

“And you’ll pay me that extra hour.” You said, no question.

“Yes.” He nodded. “But just not with cash.” Tony Baddingham winked and left.

And you signed.

[drefear]

Hi ya 💕

So I am not sure if your asks are open but was wondering if I could ask a question of sort about the Miguel x daughter’s friend thing you wrote.

Don’t feel pressured to answers this 🌸

Basically what I wanted to know is how you would imagine reader joking to Gabriella that she is pregnant in-front or Miguel and her father (but like it genuinely was a joke but the others thought otherwise)…. Basically their reactions to this.

Thank you for ya time 💕

Oh boy HEAR WE GO. My asks will always be open, yall. I love writing what others wanna read. cause I'm a validation craving people pleaser.

I hope this kind of captures what you wanted.

TW: Throw up, fluff, a little bit of backstory for Gabriella's mom, pregnancy obviously, drinking

You sat in the living room of MIguel’s house. Almost two years of dating, you and Miguel had finally moved in together and got into a nice little routine. Wednesdays were your night to be with Gabi, your dad, and Gabi’s (now) fiance. Popping open a bottle of wine, Gabi poured a glass for herself and  Miguel, as your father and her boyfriend each had a beer. You stood, checking all the food you’d laid out and smiled. The doorbell rang and you looked around. “Oh, sorry sweetie! I invited Tia over, I forgot to tell you.” Your dad smiled apologetically and got up to get the door, making you look between Gabi and Miguel for a second in shock. Your dad had been seeing a woman he met at his gym for a month now, and you told him that he could invite her if he’d liked. 

Grabbing another glass from the kitchen, you came back to see her sitting across from your boyfriend, smiling and shaking hands with Gabriella. She turned her smile to you and warmth seemed to surround her as she introduced herself. She hugged you immediately, and you returned the embrace. 

“Your father has told me so much about you! He even showed me the music video you choreographed last month.” You blushed a bit at the compliment to your work, glancing at your dad. 

“My little girl has a gift for performing.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. You took a seat next to Miguel and once everyone was settled, you started the show you all had been watching. 

As the night went on, you all talked and laughed. 

“You haven’t had a sip of the wine!” Gabriella teased you and you just rolled your eyes. "C'mon, it's your favorite."

“You know I can’t drink right now, I might be up for that training camp and they gave me a very strict diet.” You placed your hands on your lap and glanced at the glass of water you’d gotten yourself. 

Gabriella kept throwing questions at you about the possible job offer and you answered with enthusiasm, your love for dance showing in your excitement. 

“I still can’t believe the ending to that episode, I don’t want to wait until next week.” Your father spoke up between him, Tia, and Miguel. 

“So we all agree she’s probably pregnant, right?” Miguel’s opinion made you laugh. 

“Yeah, it was too obvious.” You nodded, grabbing a bite of the fish dip. Wrinkling your nose, you moved to spit it out on a napkin. “Ugh, next time, remind me to make this homemade and not get the one from the store. It smells like it might be bad.” You trailed off, leaning back into Miguel’s waiting arms and snuggling closer to him. 

“I wonder how he’s going to react.” Gabriella wondered, “And with his son, of all people!” 

“I mean. They seem to love each other, does it matter if it’s his son?” Your brows furrow, the idea hitting a bit close to home. 

“I think they’d have a cute kid.” Miguel added, and you thought for a second. 

“All kids are cute. Babies, too. I love babies when they are all dressed up and-” You glanced up with a wide smile and saw everyone staring back at you, eyes wide. “What?” 

“You’re pregnant!” Gabriella gasped and you laughed. 

“What makes you think that?” You shrunk backwards, suddenly realizing how everyone’s attention was on you. 

“Not drinking, you spit out the fish, you love babies, it all makes sense!” Gabriella speaks louder now. “Oh my god! I’m gonna be an aunt- no, a sister- you’re pregnant with my little brother or sister! Oh, I hope it’s a girl.” Gabriella’s rambling and constant talking made you sweat for a second, overwhelmed. Glancing to the other side of the room, you saw your father’s face. He was pale as a ghost, and silent. That terrified you. 

“Dad?” You asked quietly. 

“My little girl is pregnant… I’m gonna be a grandfather.” He spoke slowly and you reached over to him. His attention moved past you to your boyfriend. “You better take care of my little girl and this baby, Miguel, or I swear to God-” 

“He did a good job with me, they’ll be fine!” Gabi smiled and grabbed your hand, unloading more thoughts she had about your pregnancy. 

Your father chimed in now, talking with Gabi about how important it is that you be careful while dancing and at work, and maybe you shouldn’t be on such a strict diet. Gabi’s fiance and your dad’s date  started adding in now, and your head began to spin. You froze, unable to completely process it all before finally bursting like a shaken bottle of soda. 

“I’m not pregnant!” You shouted, standing up. Miguel just sat back, sipping his glass of wine with a chuckle. His relaxed posture made you a bit sad. Did he not care? Everyone else seemed to be so excited to see you have a baby. 

You stormed out of the room, something you made a bad habit of ever since you were younger, and stomped off to your bedroom. 

This made Miguel standing and usher everyone to the door, thanking them for coming and angering his girlfriend so that he could fix it. Closing the door, he quietly put everything away and cleaned up the mess they had made before coming to finally check on you in your shared bedroom. 

“Mi corazon?” He opened the door and found you under the covers, blankets up to your neck. He sat by your feet and sighed. 

“You weren't as excited as everyone else.” You said, getting straight to the point. “It was like you didn’t care.” He laughed and you sat up, now even more angry, “are you laughing?!” 

“Yes.” He nodded, smiling still and you couldn’t help but melt a little at that sexy smile. “Mi vida, if you were pregnant right now, I’d be walking out that door.” He stated, and you lost your breath. 

“Why?” Your eyes filled with tears and he just grabbed your hand. 

“Because that would mean that you were pregnant with another man’s baby.” His words left you speechless for a second. “As you know, Gabriella came as a surprise for both her mother and I. We were still teenagers and neither of us were ready to have a baby, but we did and we got married and it all worked out. But right after Gabriella was born, her mother decided she didn’t want any more children, and so I had a vasectomy.” He said this all with ease, pulling you into his lap, “I knew it was reversible, and if we decided we did want another child, that I could just have it fixed and we could try.” He leaned his cheek on your head as he spoke and his words finally clicked. 

“So you knew I wasn’t pregnant because I can’t get pregnant. That’s why when my dad made comments about if I got pregnant, you didn’t freak out.” 

“Si.” He confirmed. 

“So… you don’t want kids?” You asked and that’s when his body froze. 

“I haven’t thought about children in a long time,  mi Vida. Do you?” 

“Yes, I do.” You announced and pulled away to be able to see his face. He was staring down at you with a new expression. 

“Hmm.” He looked away before leaning towards you and laying you slowly down on the bed. “Then I guess I better get that reversed, and we better practice.” He smirked and you smiled, kissing him. “That way, I can get mi cielo pregnant with my baby.” 

Those words made every part of you flutter. It was a sleepless night after that, and many more. 

Three months later, and you stood in the kitchen making food for you and your boyfriend. The world had been kind to you recently, and that training camp job you’d had was finally over. Auditions had slowed for the moment and you were now enjoying teaching dance classes at a local theater. 

The afternoon sun was hot as you cut a burger in half. Suddenly, without warning, your mouth was full of sick and you were running to the bathroom. You hated throwing up, hated the feeling of being powerless to your own body, and this was no exception. You wiped your mouth once you finished, and stood in the mirror for a second. You were glistening with sweat and your face looked a little greenish from vomiting. You wondered what had made you so ill. 

Stepping back, you looked into the full body mirror and noticed something. Had you… gained weight? No, you’d been on that diet for the job, you’d been working out and conditioning constantly. If anything, you should have lost weight! 

And things began to click. Being sick, gaining weight, and being so tired recently. 

You were pregnant. You’d been trying now for weeks with Miguel, and it’d become so natural that you’d basically forgotten. 

A few hours later and a trip to the store, you sat back in that bathroom with a test in your hands. Knee bouncing and lip pulled between your teeth, you placed it on the counter beside you. Five minutes, the instructions said. You could wait five minutes, right? No, you couldn't, so you decided to distract yourself and tossed the pregnancy test into the drawer of your sink.

You moved to clean up, wiping down the counter and throwing out the burger from before, when you heard Miguel walk in. You didn’t want him to see it if it was negative, to get his hopes up or feel pressured. 

He walked in, gazing at you happily. Kissing you quickly, you held his large hands in yours and closed your eyes. No matter what happened, you knew you’d be happy as long as you were with him. 

“Did you make something? I smell burgers.” 

“Oh, no, but I can whip something up. I think I still have some meat sauce in the fridge, want some pasta?” You asked and he nodded. You bounced off to the kitchen, now focused on your boyfriend’s dinner. A few minutes later, you heard something fall from your bedroom. Running in there, you saw Miguel standing by his spread open briefcase with all of his papers strewn across the room, coming from the master bathroom. 

The bathroom!

You stepped inside carefully, glancing to see his reaction in the mirror. The large man was standing shirtless with the bathroom drawer open, that stick in his hands. You gulped and bit your lip, eyes full of tears because you only assumed the worst. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t even look because I thought I might be pregnant, but I guess I was wrong-” 

“It’s positive.” His voice was hoarse, obviously about to cry. 

Your mouth fell open and your eyes met his. “What…?” 

“It’s positive. You’re pregnant.” He whispered and moved to hug you, ignoring the mess everywhere as he pulled your tiny body into his big frame, head in your neck as he cried a bit from happiness. 

You returned this gesture with equal parts of shock and happiness, at first not moving and then wrapping your arms and legs around him as he picked you up off the ground, both crying now. 

You pulled back to cup his face and kiss him over and over, still in disbelief that you were carrying his child, that you two were going to have a baby. He choked out a sob as he smiled on your lips. 

“I love you… so much.” You gasped and he nodded. “I love you more, mi cielo.”

Tags: @pllao@itzsab@smo66y@misswonderfrojustice@cyberbugg@jollybananaqueen@eeryyy@nightma @topreice @poppyflower-22@yoonlith@miragemurder@ihateuguys@knoxx-seresinbradshaw @minaxcarter @autismsupermusicalassassin @migueloharaslxt @mintqueenjo@chshiresins @um-well @kxszy@miguelswifey04@mushy-mushroom04@tymns@oxrchd @mimiamma2002 @allysunny @ruletarts

[a-memory-a-distant-echo]

ok, i'm being so brave and making the rec post that i told anon i would do like three days ago.

the obligatory caveats. this is not comprehensive—i haven't read all the fic in this fandom, and i've barely looked at anything not in english. my reading habits are pretty broad—i'll read almost any pairing, and am generally willing to suspend my disbelief to do so. i am not usually an au person, though this fandom is doing its absolute damndest to prove me wrong on that point.

also i have…more…fics that i felt i should rec somewhere, so probably this is rec post one, but ten felt like enough and also saying things in public where people can hear me is, it turns out, absolutely excruciating. please no one be mean to me about this post, especially if you wrote one of these fics, because if you are i will simply fill my pockets with rocks and take to the sea, ok? ok.

excited to find out what i manage to do that ruins the formatting, links the wrong fics and/or people, or otherwise breaks things in this post. please tell me if i've fucked up, or if your fic is on this list and you would rather i keep your name out of my mouth, or whatever.

first, a very special mention to the mlc reference guide by @yletylyf. this is such an incredibly comprehensive and generous resource. you want a timeline for this show that does an incredibly poor job of maintaining its own timeline? it's here. you want episode summaries? they're here. you want all the people and places? they're here. if you're writing fic, you want this guide, because it's so much easier and faster than scanning episodes or subs files to figure out the name of one specific guy or whatever. it also means that at least occasionally you work on the thing rather than accidentally rewatching the same scene five times, or hypothetically watching two to four episodes without even really thinking about what you're doing. the reference guide is the unsung mvp of fandom.

beyond porch and portal, difanghua, teen, by willowdream. this is the vampire au that i didn't know i wanted? the author posted it and their note was like 'i'm trying to be the change i want to see in the world,' and i was like ok sure, i'm not really convinced that the change i need is vampire aus, but i'll give it a go, and then i did and was like, oh shit, i'm eating fucking glass about this vampire au, i'm chewing on my own fucking fingers, i'm so fucking normal about this, i need another hundred thousand words of this and also seventeen more vampire aus in my inbox by monday morning. i literally finished reading it and scrolled right back to the top to read it again. i have no idea why this fic hits so hard, but it took me out at the knees. the voices are perfect. something about it is just impossibly compelling.

不安的遠離，再无歸期 | restless distance, without return, fang duobing/qiao wanmian, mature and teen, by @difeisheng. this is technically two fics but they're short and you should read both of them because they're such a brutal, perfect encapsulation of grief, and a really beautiful acknowledgement of the ways that fang duobing and qiao wanmian can be read as reflections of each other, separated by a decade, and it just fucking guts me. i dunno. it's about the grief! it's about the yearning! it's about someone who understands parts of you that you wish didn't exist! i think i've reread this like once a week for the last six weeks and i feel like it gets overlooked because it's not A Ship but like. it could be. it should be.

dance the silence down, fanghua and feihua, explicit, by @momosandlemonsoda. this fic. ugh. ok. i'm breaking my own rules. i had two when i started writing this post: no works in progress, and no reccing things that i haven't left a comment on, like a goddamn grownup. this one fic is breaking both of those rules and i feel bad about it and will hopefully spend like, all day tomorrow just commenting on every chapter or something, but i have to do this. this fic is so good. this fic ruins me. this fic is 63k, still a work in progress, and also if i were losing the whole internet tomorrow and i got to keep one fic in all the world and it was the only fic i could have for the rest of time, it might have to be this one, even as a work in progress. i ignored this fic for so long—by which i mean probably two of the four months since i first watched mysterious lotus casebook—because i was like, i don't like aus, and i especially don't like rock star aus. (or sex work aus, and you're never gonna fucking believe what else this author is writing and what else i absolutely cannot get enough of—this is a sneaky bonus rec for all i wanna do is wrong, another fic that i feel so so so normal about!) but then i was like okkkkkkk but. maybe i'll try it. people seem to be nuts for it. and then i read it and i was like OH HOLY SHIT PEOPLE ARE FULLY CORRECT TO BE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED ABOUT THIS and normally, honestly, i wouldn't bother posting a rec like this because it's like 'oh haha have you read the five most popular fics in this fandom?' and it feels so redundant, but i know for a fact that a friend of mine who finished watching the show yesterday is reading this post, and even if everyone else has read it, she has not! anyhow as a former music person and a former diner cook, this fic like. i don't know. i feel like it broke me but also fixed me? i literally criticise writing professionally and every time i try to talk about this fic i find myself speechless because it's so perfect to me. i am deeply unwell about this fic. every time a new chapter comes out i sit down and read the whole thing again, yes, all sixty-thousand-plus words of it. some nights you go to bed and you're like 'what's the fucking point?' and then you're like 'no wait, there will eventually be more of dance the silence down,' and somehow that makes things suck a tiny bit less. my wife has made me take out like six sentences from this rec because they're too intense and too weird about it but i need you to understand: you have to read this fic.

in this dream, there is a lover to share this life with, fanghua, g, by @lianhuajing. alternative ending for the end of episode 27, in which li lianhua—precious man who has yet to discover a hill he's not willing to die on—apologises to fang duobing the only way he knows how, and it's wildly upsetting for everyone (but it's ok and it doesn't end miserably, no one panic). this is a delightfully angsty treat, and i love how conflicted fang duobing is in it—i feel like it's not something that i've seen explored a lot, but this poor boy really fuckin goes through it—his best friend and his childhood idol are the same person but are lying to him about it, and his dad's not actually his father and has been lying to him about it, and his best friend/childhood idol may have killed his father, and—yeah, is lying to him about it. like? someone give this poor man a hug and a cup of tea and a snack and a blankie. i love that we get to see some of his internal conflict in this.

quintessence of dust, feihua, teen, by justthereforit. this plays with one of my very most favourite tropes in the world, which is the one where the heart is a physical object and a physical form of trust and control and surrender and—like. this is so good. it's set in episode 13, which is, for me, one of the absolute peak angst points, and it absolutely nails it. di feisheng who's upset and vulnerable and frustrated and angry, li lianhua who knows he's going to die and can't bear the thought that he's going to take anyone else down with him, and they're both just so fucked up. chef kiss. i love it when everyone is emotionally wrecked and continually like 'ok no, i can take one more knife in my soul to protect someone else', and this absolutely delivers on that.

under moonlight, we change our futures yet again, feihua, explicit, by @thesilversun. the wedding room! obviously we have to have a wedding room fic, right? i'm not going to lie: i'm willing to suspend a lot of disbelief for wedding room fics, but in this one, it's actually a wonderfully, horrifyingly plausible setup. it walks a really fine line of keeping people in character, and acknowledging the inherent horror and seriousness of the situation, and also providing some desperately hot sex, and also managing to get the emotional beats of it, too. it has a sequel, which imo really has to be read as the conclusion to this fic, and it's just as good. it's possible that some of what i'm saying here is 'i love vulnerable-inside crusty-outside di feisheng' but like. i do. i love it so much.

what's sealed away, feihua, teen, by @bbcphile. AMNESIA FIC yessssss, a-fei my beloved, fics that handle brain damage/memory issues/amnesia well my beloveddddd. i love the a-fei arc, but i also have had a number of brain injuries and some other stuff that means that my own memory is…not so great, so i sometimes really struggle with how often amnesia in fiction is played off either as nothing to worry about or as a funny thing where everyone's in on the joke except the person who has amnesia. this fic is a great and sometimes very visceral exploration of a horrifying experience, and a really fantastic study of a-fei/di feisheng as a character, as well as the relationship that he has with li lianhua. a-fei trying to balance the trust he has in the sense memory of his body with his understanding of his relationship with li lianhua with li lianhua's reaction to—everything, really—is really well done and wonderful/terrible to read.

我只愿面朝大海 | i wish only to face the sea, g, by foreverstudent. ok so you wanna fuck yourself up some more? go read this. this is canon divergence from episode 39, and fang duobing has learned too well the lessons he's been taught, and sees the shape of things before li lianhua ever touches the wangchuan flower—so he sets about making sure that he won't be able to throw it away. this is agonising and gorgeous and maintains the canon relationships while developing the narrative differently. i wept literal tears. i was like 'ok that's it the worst part is over!' and then i remembered that there was another part coming and then i started crying. anyhow, it is—as ever, with me—about the devotion.

我住長江頭, 君住長江尾 -- i live upstream, you live downstream, fanghua, teen, by @rimbaudofficial. ok so this is Not a fic that i should like, because i am a massive academic failure and despite being in my forties have regular nightmares about having to re-engage with academia for like. any reason. HOWEVER. as noted, i read indiscriminately, even when i'm like 'reading this is a terrible idea and will be upsetting for me personally!', so i was like 'well, how bad of an idea can it possibly be?' and then instead! it was. incredibly charming? it was so fucking cute? the fang duobing characterisation in this is somehow just perfect to me—he's simultaneously confident and vulnerable, and also just so deeply committed to the weird clueless guy who he's decided is meant for him. di feisheng and li lianhua have a perfect weird-bros friendship. i would read another ten chapters of this and i would love it.

[yang4ever]

do u believe in luv and basketball? ⋆🏀₊˚⊹ ♡ 🎧

liu yangyang of wayv (eek yay) x fem!reader

💌 part of the soft !hobbies with wayv! series im currently writing.. just mini stories abt wayv and their favorite things + their fav girl (you, duh). more soon~!

w.c. 882! so.. about 5-7 minutes of ur time hehe

content - fluff + hurt-comfort, long-distance bf!yangyang, reader is referred to as "girlfriend" "pretty girl" & "princess", mild cursing, winwin = sicheng, yangyang lives in germany for this one lol, (for like one sec) BASKETBALL BF YANGYANG:3

get a girlfriend, they said. it'll be fun, they said.

and it is... most of the time.

but right now, yangyang thinks it's the least fun it has ever been… owing to your current study abroad.

you didn’t want to take it, not really– what would happen to you and him? but he insisted because god, if it wasn’t a good ass opportunity for you and your dream job.

so, you sniffled your way through the security line at the airport, and yangyang always wakes up wishing it was already the next day, just so he’d be one day closer to your homecoming.

and at this very moment?

he’s here on the phone with you, recalling his afternoon spent with sicheng. hoping that maybe this time you wouldn’t fall asleep because of the time difference.

“hm. he sounds really bad, babe.” you say sleepily into the phone and yangyang feels that familiar ache in his chest he’s learned comes with missing you.

“he was! he really was!” the male responds, letting out a soft sigh.

he shifts around his bed, finding comfort as he settles into the space where you would usually be. the darkness of his bedroom feels like it's enveloping him in more ways than one tonight. “i was actually cooking him...”

yangyang pauses when he hears you yawn on the other line and then the rustling of what must be you snuggling more deeply into your blanket.

it’s barely 7pm in germany but it’s already a little past midnight at your over 5,000 mile away dorm. he knows you must be struggling to stay awake and in his most logical mind, he should be letting his pretty girl go to sleep. 

but when you mumble, “why’d you stop, baby? keep going..” he can’t help but give into his want to keep talking to you.

“i took this kind of long shot, y/n... it’s called a 2-pointer.. i swear, if you had seen it, you would’ve been like, ‘what the hell?’ because it was really that cool…”

“i wish i could’ve seen it too, yangie.” your voice carries a hint of wistfulness even through the phone and yangyang’s stomach twists at the thought of you missing him too.

“me too... it’s a lot more fun for me when you’re watching me play. you know that, right, princess?”

“really?” you sound so sweetly hopeful and yangyang’s smile is almost audible as he replies, his tone warm and affectionate. “yeah, dummy. you make everything more fun.”

“and?” you say suspiciously and he laughs a little. “i mean… i get my own personal cheerleader…”

you groan despite your boyfriend now laughing for real at his own lame joke. he's cute and it makes it hard for you to keep a straight face, but alas, you persist.

“you have such an ego on you, liu yangyang,” you roll your eyes, forgetting he can’t see you do it. “and you're corny too. it is so over for you when sicheng gets good at basketball… or gets a girlfriend…”

“oh shit!” yangyang’s laughter fades into a sudden excitement that rings out over your speakerphone. “i forgot to tell you… unless… you’re already halfway asleep..?” his voice takes on a slightly mischievous tone, tugging you out of your drowsy haze.

“ugh, you’re dumbbbbb,” you whine, playfully dragging out the syllable in feigned annoyance.

but safe to say, your curiosity is piqued despite the heaviness of your eyelids. 

“what is it?" you ask.

"wait. tell me you love me first," yangyang demands earnestly and you gawk at the unexpected request through the line.

"oh, you're crazy."

"what? i can't ask my girlfriend to tell me that she loves me?" your boyfriend teases, and for once, you're glad for the distance between you two, knowing he would've been all over the blush quickly creeping up your neck and cheeks.

"i just don't wanna blow up your already huge ego," you defend and he snickers.

"how about you tell me first," you hum quietly, fiddling with the edge of your blanket.

you wonder if he can detect the hopefulness in your voice-- you'd never admit it but you actually really do want to hear those words from him right now, the thought making you feel all glowy inside and suddenly shy at the prospect of turning his request back on him.

"yeah, okay." yangyang agrees easily. "i love you."

at those three words, you can't help the smile that blooms across your features or the way your tummy starts swarming with butterflies. is it a confession you've heard many times over? yes. does the amount of times you hear it do anything to calm the way your heart beats quaint with longing? no, never.

"make sure you're not meeting any hot singles who can cook, ok? i want you to come home to me," yangyang continues his sentiments to you. he keeps his tone light but you think the subtle crack at the end of his sentence gives him away. "i miss you a lot."

"i won't! i love you, too. so much." you admit in a rush, hoping your boyfriend can't sense the dull ache tinged in your words.

for a moment, you almost say that without him, you wouldn't really have a home to return to.

a.n. - wow first tumblr post!!! i've been on the platform, reading fanfiction since january of 23'. i wrote this work in one sitting last month and ive been re-editing it slowly ever since then. it's not my favorite thing in the world if im being honest but i just want to put myself out here lol. i love thinking up random stories in my head.. and now my stories are urs too!! send me stuff if u wanttt i stan a lot of groups i think

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ THANK YOU for reading my words hahahahaha also bruh basketball is barely mentioned in here wtf .

+ the lowercase used throughout the story is a stylistic choice because i find it pretty. the highlighted sentences too:)!

[goldsainz]

ur writing is so beautiful omg, so i was wondering if you could do lewis x actress!reader? something angsty idk

YOU’RE LOSING ME — one shot.

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: you have tried your best, but despite your valiant efforts, he just doesn’t see you anymore.

warnings: angst, cursing, a LOT (like a lot) of taylor references.

NOTE: YAY A LEWIS PIECE!!! i love this man so much makes me happy that someone asked me to write for him, so thank youuuuuu 🫶🫶 remember this is all fiction, it’s not meant to be taken literally. also, there won’t be a part 2, so pls don’t ask for one.

[ word count: 2,6k ]

You loved Lewis, and you knew he loved you. It wasn’t a matter of love, it was about showing up and making you feel wanted.

You knew love. You knew it was sweet, and had its sour moments, but it was about resilience and the want to be there for your loved ones. And love shouldn’t feel the way it did, it shouldn’t form a lump in your throat when he kissed you, it shouldn’t want to make you cry, it especially shouldn’t have made you feel lost.

You had spent endless nights sitting in the dark of your shared room, wondering if it was time. Maybe those feelings would go away, you knew Lewis was going through a rough time with Mercedes and his pursuit for an 8th WDC. And you were so, so supportive, but there wasn’t much more you could give. Should you throw out everything you had built together, or keep it? 

There were moments in which you remained silent, keeping each thought you had to yourself just to not ruin your day. You just glared at him, hoping he would realise something was wrong, that maybe you did have things to talk about, but he never did. He just kissed your forehead, and carried on with his day.

You had become accustomed to him coming home late, to the weeks without him. It was a part of his job, and even if you had wanted to accompany him, your job demanded too much of you to do so. 

Lewis was a popular person, and despite being very reserved, he still had many fans and people that admired him all around. His attention was always drawn to others, jumping from conversation to conversation, pausing your chats to greet whomever he recognised. It was exhausting, but you pushed through because he was the love of your life, the one you had been searching for your whole life.

After-parties were the best thing after award shows, it was much more intimate, and you didn't have to worry about unwanted attention. You could let loose for a while, the pressure of always being in front of a camera leaving you as you chatted the night away, drinking every now and then as to numb some of your worries. 

You watch people laughing, having the time of their lives, while you wallow by the bar of your own party. You feel forgettable, but so needed at the same time, people kiss your cheeks and congratulate you for your award winning performance and the achievement you accomplished, and all you do is smile at everyone. You feel like a fraud, acting like you're great when in reality you are screaming on the inside.

“Is Lewis here?” One of your castmates asks you, making you search for him in the crowd.

“Yeah, he’s with his friends.” You say with the best smile you can muster.

“Doesn’t it bother you that he's not with you?” 

“I’m sorry?” The question startles you, tilting your head to the side as the emotion from your face fades.

“I mean, it’s not every day you win a golden globe for best actress, shouldn’t he be with you?” 

“He’s a very busy man, it doesn't bother me, there’s still so much time to celebrate.” You say with a laugh, brushing off the comment.

“Ugh, you’re such couple goals. It makes me jealous, honestly.” 

“Well, it has been six years.” You almost cringe at the bad joke, but fortunately she just laughs. You smile at her, bidding her a good night as you leave to socialise.

The party is at its peak, people are dancing anywhere and everywhere, shoes are discarded around as the dancing gets to them. 

“Y/N, get over here!” Miles, Lewis’ friend, shouts at you.

Walking through a crowd of drunk people is near impossible, it takes a lot of patience but you finally reach your boyfriend and his friends. You instantly sit next to Lewis, his knee brushing yours, but other than that, no further contact happens.

It should worry you, it does, but you’ve learnt to not question his attitude. You don’t want to start a fight on your special night, not with all of the people around you, not when he’s finally somewhere with you.

“Hi, guys.” You say, smiling at everyone.

“We wanted to see you, you’ve been everywhere all night!” The comment almost makes you scoff, you’ve looked for Lewis and he is always somewhere else, something always calls his attention when you reach him

“You know how it is.” His friends all laugh at the comment, but he just looks at you with a little smile. 

“Well, now that you’re here, the group is complete.”

“It’s always nice to see all of you, thank you for coming, by the way.”

“As if we would ever miss this!” Another of his friends says, motioning to the place with his hands.

You try to intertwine your fingers to your boyfriend’s, initiating any sort of contact to try and mend his poor behaviour in front of his friends. They’re all too drunk to notice the awkwardness, but you feel it, it has been suffocating you for months.

“I’m glad you’re having fun then.” 

The conversation flows nicely enough. It serves as a distraction from the indifference Lewis gives you. You’re the best at the party, you’re the reason the party is even happening, and yet you still fade in the background of his thoughts. 

“So, how long are you here in London for?” Riley, one of his friend’s girlfriends, asks you, a drink in her hand. 

“I’m leaving on wednesday, but I’m probably gonna be back in England for the Grand Prix.” You look at Lewis, who turns to you at the same time.

“That’s great! I could neer travel as much as you guys do.”

“It’s part of the job, but we make it work.” You wait for Lewis to support your statement, but he just looks away.

“When you get married, I need to be there. Your love story is one for the books, girl.” The mention of marriage makes you smile, it’s the one thing you’ve wanted with Lewis since you met him. It’s also the first thing that truly made you smile since you sat down with the group of friends. 

Your eyes look down at your bare finger, rubbing the spot where an engagement ring could be if Lewis ever asked you the big question. 

“We’re not in a rush to get married.” Is what Lewis says to her. It’s the first time he’s spoken with you included in a conversation, and all you can do is keep smiling. You push away the pain, the knot that forms in your throat almost makes you break. 

“We have a lot on our plates, you know? But I’ll make sure you're on the guest list when the time comes.” If Riley sensed anything off, her face is not anything to go by. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping to get a way for even a second. And just like that, you desperately want the night to be over.

Arriving at your shared home is nothing short of uncomfortable. The silence while your chauffeur drove you both home made your eyes gloss over, you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to keep your tears at bay, but you needed to be strong.

You throw your shoes by the doorway, eager to go to sleep and forget the fact that Lewis indirectly said he didn’t want to get married to you. You’ve been together for six years, he knows you would love to get married, that if he asked you would say yes. It's him who repels the idea, though he once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he now is in no rush to truly settle down with you.

It makes you spiral. Maybe it’s you who makes it difficult to get married, you know you're not the easiest person in the world, but Lewis isn’t either, but you never fault him for it. He says he doesn't understand many things you do, and you tell him you know he doesn't. You’re dying inside with all of the things unsaid between you, and he doesn't see it. 

You need him to say something, to do anything to show that he still cares. And as you watch him do his skincare routine, something you used to do together as he taught you how to take care of yourself better, you can’t seem to shake the feeling creeping up on you. That this won't go away, you’re not going through a rough patch, there isn’t a cure to your situation. You just need to let go.

“Lewis?” You call out, sitting on your bed as you prepare for whatever may happen. He hums in response, too caught up on his stuff.

“Can you come here when you’re done, please?” 

“Sure.”

When he finishes up in the bathroom, he goes to lay down on the bed. You watch him, how he doesn't seem bothered by the indecision surrounding the room, how grey you have become in all of your overthinking. 

“We’re okay, right?” It’s as if time stops. Lewis, who was calmly laying on the bed, has now frozen on his spot. You search his face in hopes to know what he’s thinking, but you can’t. You don’t know him like you used to, the person you hoped would never become a stranger, was now nearing that.

You don’t know if it's his long pause of silence that confirms what you already knew, but hoped wasn't true, or if it’s the fact that you can’t believe you hoped for any type of response.

“I need to know if we’re okay, Lewis.” You turn your whole body to look at him, silently begging him to say something.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.” He drags his hands over his face, like the conversation is an annoyance to him , something he can't even consider entertaining. It makes the first tear fall down your face, watching the man you love be so dismissive. 

“Anything, literally anything, Lewis.”

“We just had a great night, Y/N. Let’s not ruin it and talk about this some other time, alright? I’m very tired, I have a very busy week ahead, and would like to rest a little.”

It’s a poor excuse, you both know it, it’s written all over his face. You consider letting it go, apologising as you have before, but something about his dismissal makes you angry. It’s the final straw, the last time you will take the blame for trying to fix your relationship, for trying to understand.

“Is that why you won’t marry me?” Your voice breaks in between your words, the raw emotion covering your eyes as you watch him close his eyes in frustration.

“What the fuck are you even talking about right now?”

You scoff at his words, “You said we’re not in a rush to get married.”

“Because we’re not. It’s not a good time, Y/N, and you know it.” His voice is cold, making you wince.

“For you! There’s never a good enough time with you, there’s always something more important.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t put this on me.” He stands up from where he is, making his way to the kitchen. You don’t hesitate to follow him, not ready to give up on your conversation.

“I want to settle down, Lewis, we’ve talked about this a thousand times.” You wipe your tears away, trying to compose yourself. “You know that if you ask me I would say yes. Do you even know how embarrassing it is to have everyone ask me when I’m gonna be your bride? All of our friends are getting married, so they practically hand me the bouquet now, and each time you act like nothing happened.”

He pours himself a glass of water, not looking at you, ignoring your presence as if he hopes his indifference will make you go away. 

“I love you, why isn't that enough?” 

“Do you?” He glances at you, and you finally see the look in his eyes. He doesn't want to fight you, he doesn't want to fight for your relationship. Despite all of the times he acted oblivious, he knew you were reaching a breaking point, he knew you were beating yourself over the impending doom of your relationship, and he said nothing.

You know your pain is an imposition. You know he tolerates it, and you don't question it. You just make your peace with it, even if it means to lie to yourself. There is no doubt in your mind that he loves you, but you don't think he loves you enough, not as he once did, anyway.

“So that's it? Our relationship gets hard and you want to leave?”

“That’s not at all what I said.”

“Well, it’s what you’re implying.” 

“I just want you to talk to me, to fight for us. That’s all I want.” You rest your elbows on the kitchen counter, placing your head on the palms of your hands, feeling tears soak them.

Lewis shakes his head, leaving the kitchen. You don’t know where he is going, you don’t make an effort to follow him this time. He’s losing you, and he isn't stopping his life to make you stay or even watch you go. 

You want him to choose you, you’re right there with him for all of his fights, always on the front line. You never hesitate to bleed for him, yet he does not risk anything. It seems unfathomable that the man you hoped to never lose, actually lost you. It seemed like so long ago when you believed forever was the direction your relationship would take, he changed and you unfortunately stayed the same.

You hear his footsteps near you, but you don’t lift your head to look at him. Not when you know that if you do you’ll truly break, you’ll have to say goodbye to years of memories, you’ll have to walk away once and for all.

You’re shocked when you feel him wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You don’t tense at the touch, you would never, there isn't an ounce of you that doesn't crave all of the contact lost between you. It’s all you've wanted lately, yet it doesn't change a thing. He walked out a long time ago, and now you have to do the same.

“This won’t work, Lewis.” 

“I know.”

“I gave it my all, you know?” You whisper, and you feel him press a kiss to the side of your neck, but there are no longer butterflies when he does so, just a broken heart that won't start for him anymore. Your heart was glass, and he dropped it. 

“I know you did.” He whispers back.

You want to ask him, if he wished he would’ve put up more of a fight, but you don't think you could deal with the silence after. You know it’s not you, that it’s him, that despite all your faults loving him was never one.

And you’ll try to forget about it. Try to pretend you will find someone who will be equal to Lewis, but you’ll remain right where he left you. And you won’t talk about it, just act like it’s for the best. But it would’ve been fun if he would've been the one.

[dollfaced-erin]

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

PART 15

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

A/n :-

Oh lord im so sorry i didnt update. i had a few tests i had to go through ;;-;;. COVID here is rising again so everyone please take care of your health ! exams are finally overrr aksdlksjd now i can write and finish up those requestss Small reminder that a part of Yingxing's name means star, and a part of Dan Jia's name means home !

Taglist : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy , @chibiduck , @hermosacolibri , @la-diablas-thingz , @farelady-fate , @everi-eve , @shadowfoxey , @helloyuki , @immahuman

"They're ready to head to the base terminals to start them up. Apparently all three of them shut down after conduction of foreseeing your current and past predicament." Fu Xuan said, looking at (Y/n) after she had returned from giving orders to her assistant.

(Y/n) lifted an eyebrow as if to say, 'is it my fault ? Damn, sorry', but Fu Xuan sighed and put a hand on the forearm of the taller lady next to her.

"No, it's not your fault. The symbols on the Matrix have been dimming for quite a while now, it was expected for it to not be able to recount such memories as distant the Era of Bloodshed." Fu Xuan said, shaking her head.

"Then, if so, would it be able to relinquish Kafka's means ?" (Y/n) asked as she looked at the Master Diviner of the Luofu.

"To reread the recent past written by a mortal to another, is hardly much of a chore." Fu Xuan said with a proud huff, her cute cheeks blushing red with happiness.

"I suppose a lady as capable as yourself shouldn't have any problem in pulling through crises." (Y/n) said with a small smirk.

Fu Xuan flushed and she almost beams at the words of the former High Elder of the Vidyadhara. Then she turns away, trying to keep the ghost of a smile hidden from her face.

"You and that sugar-tongued General...he has really been rubbing off on you, hasn't he ?"

(Y/n) chuckled, shaking her head slightly with dusted cheeks. "As it is, fate is inevitably cruel to those blessed with more time than others. It is only natural to adopt similar instances of speech."

"Ugh..." Qingque grumbled, looking down with tears in her eyes. "I worked so hard in getting transferred to the repository. It was the best place to slack off and be invisible..."

"Now, I actually have career prospects...this is terrible !" She sobbed softly. "If I screw up, they might fire me...but if I get it done right, they'll send me more work !"

But as (Y/n) approached, Welt coughed into his fist, stopping Qingque's rambles.

"Lady (Y/n), will you be joining us ?" Welt asked as the royal lady approached them, her hand fan elegantly resting in the palms of her left hand, the hilt firmly wrapped with her right.

"Yes. I am indebted to the Master Diviner, the General, and those who had expressed concern over my wellbeing." (Y/n) said with a nod. "I shall assist you with whatever power I possess."

"L-Lady (Y/n) herself is accompanying us ?" The librarian, whose name was Qingque, as she recalled, said, looking at the horned woman with admiration in her green eyes. She was just grumbling a moment ago how there was extra work but no extra rewards.

Maybe...

"Does that mean we'll get jobs done faster ?"

"Perhaps ?"

"Oh great ! Then, let's go ! I want to play-- i mean..."

The brunette coughed into her fist for a bit.

"I would like to complete the task provided by the Master Diviner as efficiently as possible. Then, spend my leisure time with some relaxing but mind boggling luck based games." Qingque said, trying to mask her want to get the job done and quickly slack off to go play some Celestial Jade.

(Y/n) chuckled a bit before parting ways with the librarian to meet up with Jing Yuan who was addressing the present events with Stelle and March.

"Fu Xuan's Matrix of Prescience was able to go one step further than Kafka. To maintain the upper hand, I had to keep it a surprise. I hope this hasn't made you doubt my sincerity ?" Jing Yuan said with a smile as he nodded at the approach of (Y/n), his smile turning warmer.

March did NOT look impressed. "Next time, ease off on the surprises ?"

"I promise to be more transparent next time. This time it was sealed tight, not even (Y/n) was aware of my moves."

Jing Yuan looked a little guilty, but not by much.

"At present, Kafka has no intention of speaking and the Stellaron Hunters' motives remain unknown. We must rely on the power of the Divination Commission to unearth the truth." The General said again.

"'Unearth the truth'..." Welt said before looking at Jing Yuan. "You mean, interrogate Kafka using the Matrix of Prescience ?"

"Precisely. The Matrix of Prescience is the Divination Commission's ultimate weapon. It was originally used to calculate navigation routes and predict future events..." Jing Yuan said with a slight nod of his head. "With, special exceptions of course."

"Special exceptions ?" March asked, looking quite invested in the functionality of such a master device.

"Yes. For instance interrogation. The secrets of the Stellaron Hunters' cannot remain hidden for any longer. I have no choice but to move beyond conventional protocol -- we must use divination to ascertain Kafka's intent."

"And for the second means, is to peer into the misty fog that prevents power and past knowledge that is needed to be applied in special circumstances and for health purposes." Jing Yuan said, looking at (Y/n). "Lady (Y/n)'s recurring memories were quite literally dragging her consciousness to the brink of insanity. And as you all know, she possesses timeless and indispensable knowledge."

"Everything hinges on restoring the Matrix of Prescience, which is why I would like you to help Diviner Fu complete the setup. I am eternally grateful for your assistance."

"And as such, I would like you all to look after this little princess for me. She wants to come along with you, and I hope you'll help me keep an eye on her." Jing Yuan said as he gestured to (Y/n) with a cheeky grin.

"Wh-what ?! How rude !"

After repairing the first screen, the group teleported to their first destination. The first of three terminals. The Temporal Terminal which correlates with essence of time. "Observes the potential of the temporal plane" as they say.

After arranging the Mutare Magnus of the Temporal Terminal, the group then moved towards the second gate, where there was a malfunctioning robot, sparking with electricity and buzzing circuits.

"What the heck is this ? It looks like a walking gate !" March said, looking at the automaton in slight fear and awe.

"An Aurumaton. A guard-like robot placed in strategic places. The Matrix is very crucial and information abundant, so it's a...protection measure to make sure only those allowed could activate the terminal." (Y/n) said, looking at the malfunctioning piece of metal suspiciously.

"I feel like it needs a sign saying 'mortals forbidden' or something..." March said, hiding behind (Y/n) while holding onto her arm. Then she looked at Qingque with worried eyes. "Are you sure it wont fly into a rage if we walk past it...?"

"We're here by the order of the master diviner to restart the Matrix of Prescience. We're friends -- not foes !" Qingque declared to the Aurumaton.

The malfunctioning Aurumaton stood up, voice crackling with a broken chip. taking a stance. March yelped and (Y/n) pushed March even more behind her, and standing in front of Stelle.

Qingque looked panicked as she looked at the rising Aurumaton. "Ah...! March, you should join the Divination Commission ! Quick, do something !"

"Get back !" (Y/n) exclaimed, pulling out her fan as she summoned, cloudhymn magic to conjure up surrounding water to slip into the broken cracks of the piece of machinery.

"Before me !" (Y/n) commanded, before stomping her foot onto the ground, leaving a crown of ice circling her foot. Then she swung her fan, using her ice powers to freeze the water that slipped into the Aurumaton, locking it in place.

(Y/n) panted as she set down her fan, the fear from the sudden attack taking her by surprise. Her cheeks were a little dusted even though it was an easy battle for her, but she had to admit.

She was scared for a moment there.

"Hurry. Before the ice melts, you have to either destroy it, or spend time looking for the control panel and cutting the wires." (Y/n) said and Stelle hurriedly rushed forward with March by her side.

"It should be on the back !" Qingque said, still cowering behind (Y/n) as she held the legend's arm.

Without thinking much, March found the control circuit and conjured up an ice knife to cut through the colorful wires.

Then, just as hoped, the Aurumaton fell to the ground, broken. It crackled with sparks, as it serving a warning like it would get up again. But knowing that the circuits were ripped apart, they were sure that it was no longer a need to be afraid...

Then the group entered the second terminal, the Spatial Terminal. It was designed to retrieve information based on space, as Qingque explained. This time, (Y/n) sat by the side as she watched the other girls line up the Mutare Magnus, finding it endearing how they bickered over what way they should put down the pins to achieve the required shape.

And as they walked into the third and final terminal, March looked around with hands on her hips.

"So...let me guess, time, space... I bet the next terminal is energy-related !" March said proudly with a bright smile one her lips.

"Darn..." Qingque groaned as she looked at March with a sorry smile. "The Karma Terminal. They say this terminal is designed to establish casual relationships."

"What ?!"

The three began to move around, arranging the Mutare Magnus, even (Y/n) decided to join in to help them after watching them reset the plane a couple of times.

As she hopped in to help move the pins, she was suddenly reminded of an old memory that flashed in her mind.

"Hey ! Not too far out !" The familiar beloved would call out, chuckling as he followed the tugging of the blanket in his hands. He held the edge of the blanket in his thin but crafty hands, calloused from the harsh work he endured day and night to produce legends.

"But I want the blanket to be straight and tense before setting it down, Yingxing !"

"I understand, but there is no need to pull it so hard, beloved." The older man said, shaking his head as he set down the blanket on the grassy plains beneath the tree.

Wind blew past his hair, causing it to fly all over the place. The white-haired man sighed as he pushed back his long tresses behind his ear. Then he looked at her with a kind and loving gaze, the light of the moon highlighting his features.

"Well ? What are you waiting for ? Come sit down with me, my moon dancer."

Then she saw herself sitting close to the older man, snuggling happily in his arms as the two of them laid under the blanket of stars. The sight of the man staring into her eyes with love as he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"--dy (Y/n) ?" A voice called out.

"Lady (Y/n) !" A cheerful and bright voice called out, making (Y/n) snap out of her trance-like state. The dragon lady blinked a couple of times, taking in the difference of what seemed to be her memory and the reality in front of her.

All three of the girls were looking quite worried at (Y/n), as she had suddenly stopped after placing the pin in the board.

"Are you alright, Lady (Y/n) ?" March asked, looking quite concerned. "You suddenly spaced out all of a sudden ! We're done here now, and all the terminals have lit up, so let's go back and take a short rest." The pink haired girl advised.

(Y/n) didn't really seem to understand what had just happened, but she nodded and followed the group back to the core using the screens. Although she knew that there were alot of entities roaming around to cause havoc, she couldn't help but shake off the feeling as if there was someone watching her.

The red eyes that observed from afar turned around, once he had determined that his beloved was in safe hands.

"Well done, all of you. I can sense the Matrix of Prescience symbols re-illuminating." Fu Xuan said with a satisfactory smile. "Now, to interrogate Kafka."

The master diviner turned around to face the Matrix before shooting (Y/n) a glace. "Those of you in the core may feel a few...impacts."

March was about to question Stelle what Fu Xuan had said, but then there were two Cloud Knights escorting a young and beautiful woman with red wine hair tied in a messy ponytail and captivating eyes. She wasn't cuffed, yet made no attempt to flee, following the soldiers with a simple gloved hand on her hip.

"Is this really necessary ?" The woman named Kafka asked, her voice as alluring as her features. "I said I'd cooperate with you."

"I have no interest in the words of wanted criminals. Especially those skilled in the art of manipulation." Fu Xuan briskly answered, gaze averted with a frown on her face. Then with a breath, she turned back to face the detained criminal.

"So, say what you will. I'm here to witness the divination of the Matrix of Prescience." Fu Xuan said strongly. "The Divination Commission has ways of extracting the truth, and they're far more effective than a conversation."

The woman with wine red hair chuckled softly, turning to enter the core. That was, before she shot (Y/n) a brief glance with a smirk playing at her lips.

"Then please, Master Diviner."

"Witness my destiny."

With Kafka standing in the middle, hands bound by imaginary power, Fu Xuan stood by the edge, watching her before taking out the power of the matrix. With precise hand gestures and polished expertise, Fu Xuan closed her eyes before she began to extract and activate the power of the three terminals activated by (Y/n) and the group earlier.

The tiles correspondent to their reason and trait glowed, before forming a connection that linked the plates to the Master Diviner. With using the three terminals and herself, a large binding hexagram formed in the air, rotating and calculating the past, present and future.

Kafka levitated in the air, letting her form be suspended and closer to the Matrix' core without a struggle. Symbols and constellations surrounded her as the Master Diviner began to collect data by reading the lines and the meaning of her stars, yet she smiled. Her eyes began to glow a light blue from the power surging through and out of her body, letting it see through her memories and seek out the answers they chased after.

Fu Xuan's own eyes began to glow blue, as she resonated her consciousness with Kafka's and the Matrix itself, focusing and getting a good reading of her own divination.

That was before she saw what she sought after.

Fu Xuan gasped and immediately re-casted the spell, making the Matrix stop its function without the user and Kafka slowly descended to the ground.

"That's...why you're here...?" Fu Xuan asked, full of disbelief as she looked at Kafka.

Kafka smiled slyly and knowingly in return, enjoying the look of betrayal and disbelief painted so evidently on Fu Xuan's face.

"All for that ?!"

Kafka looked down, an unreadable expression in her magenta eyes. "Well ? Not what what you were expecting ?" Kafka asked, tilting her head a little although she had totally expected the reaction.

"I cant believe it..." Fu Xuan said, looking at Kafka in horror, as if the woman before her had told her the most atrocious lie ever known to mankind.

"But the Matrix of Prescience cannot be wrong..."

"What did you see ?" Stelle asked, looking at the Master Diviner worriedly.

"Kafka has nothing to do with the Stellaron." Fu Xuan said before landing her eyes on Stelle. "But you...it's you..."

Stelle looked so confused to what Fu Xuan was talking about, for it wasn't her that had seen the same visions as Fu Xuan did.

"Ha ! Absurd ! I'd never have thought it..."

Then her golden eyes landed on (Y/n), gaze slightly scrutinizing.

"And you...I'd never considered the relation..."

"Talking like this isn't solving anything, Master Diviner..." (Y/n) said, hands crossed over her chest. The other members of the Nameless, and the Amicassador of Sky-Faring Commission looked all confused the same.

Fu Xuan shook her head before nodding in Kafka's direction.

"Ask her yourself. Take as long as you wish."

Fu Xuan left in a hurry after that, saying something about needing to see the General as soon as possible. The remaining party remained unsure of how to proceed. And since it was both (Y/n) and Stelle that were directly regarded by Fu Xuan, it was now known that Kafka knows something about them.

Stelle looked unsure of how to approach the situation, but Welt nodded at her encouragingly. "It's fine...you go ask her. I know you have many questions for Kafka yourself."

Though Stelle looked determined, she was quite unready. "Mr. Yang..." she started. "I think I still need more time to figure out what I want to ask."

"Don't worry." (Y/n) said, putting a tender hand on Stelle's shoulder.

"I'll go first."

"Well...I have heard of you, former Lady High Elder." Kafka said with a little awe in her eyes. "But to see you up-close and personal isn't really the same feeling as he had implied it to be."

"Which do you prefer, Lady High Elder ? Or the Saltator Lunae ? Or even the name you go by with now ?"

"(Y/n) is fine." (Y/n) said, raising up a hand to stop Kafka.

"I had only just woken up from a slumber. So I do not know of your misdeeds to have you scoured by the cosmos itself. But what I do know of is Blade's affiliation with the Stellaron Hunters faction." (Y/n) said with a shake of her head, (h/c) locks swaying elegantly as she did so.

"To know that is more than enough. The Master Diviner wasn't aware of Bladie's intentions of meeting you here. But to see through me consciousness and be aware of it must've been a little surprising to her." Kafka answered simply and honestly, looking straight into (Y/n)'s eyes.

She couldn't be lying. Not that she needed to anyway.

"How was he aware that I was awake in the first place ? Not even the General anticipated my awakening." (Y/n) said with a curious tilt of her head.

"Well...that's because the Destiny's Slave had said so before." Kafka said with a small chuckle, remembering something quite amusing to her.

"You should've seen the look on Bladie's face when he was announced that he stood a chance to meet an intergalactical treasure that had laid dormant for centuries..." Kafka said tenderly.

"It was such...an odd encounter...with emotions so strong. I wonder if I'll ever experience something as intense." The cuffed woman said with a light chuckle.

"For the first time since I met him...he looked alive."

"For the stars had turned against us while we adhered to the laws...perhaps the tide of fate pities us for leading such miserable paths of fate to let us reunite in unfortune events..." Blade said to himself, red eyes clouded with memories, heart beating again with reason.

Unknowing that there was a certain concerned young woman eavesdropping in case his Mara had reacted in him. But oddly, there was no reaction even though Blade was reminiscing about his past.

"Dancer of the moon...shall time and fate allow us..." she heard him gasp softly through a rare soft but broken voice.

For the first time since Kafka had met him, she heard him weep.

'How envious...' Kafka thought to herself.

"With my immortal and life-infested shell, I'd never let you stray away again..."

"My beloved home of stars...(Y/n)..."