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#but this ask game really helped me put it into words
pitchsidestories · 1 day
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little me (to my sister) II Alexia Putellas x Putellas!Reader
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masterlist I word count: 882
a/n: thanks anon for giving us the idea for this story, enjoy 🫶🏻
“Something’s off.”
You looked up in surprise, suddenly torn from your thoughts by Aitanas voice.
She observed you closely through narrowed eyes.
You thought it was funny how she strained to figure out what was wrong.
With an innocent grin you stretched your legs out in front of you and leaned back against the dressing room bench.
“I don’t know what you mean, Tana.”
“Something just feels very wrong today.”, she said once again, her gaze still fixed on you.
You were just waiting for her to finally realize it. The white 11 printed on the chest of your warm-up shirt wasn’t really subtle. Everyone knew which Putellas sister this number belonged to.
“More like looks wrong.”, Mapi corrected the midfielder and winked at you.
A few of your teammates had grouped around you, smiling at each other once they saw you wearing your older sisters shirt.
“Hello? Can you stop staring at me?”, you complained playfully.
Vicky flashed you a lazy grin in reply: “Wait until your sister sees it.”
Luckily, your sister had a habit of putting in some extra work in the gym before your actual training so she left the house early that morning, her shirt unattended in her closet.
“She won’t even notice.”, you calmed Vicky with a laugh.
You were wrong about that.
Alexia walked in a few minutes later, a blush on her cheeks and sweat beads on her forehead from her previous workout while she sipped on some isotonic sports drink.
She only took one look at you and immediately yelled: “Is that my shirt?! You little…”
You raised your eyebrows, surprised that she had stopped herself and curious about what insult she had planned on using: “Little what?”
“I’m going to murder you!”, she replied and took a few threatening strides towards you. The familiar upward curve of her mouth telling you that she wasn’t actually mad at you.
Laughing, you lifted your hands in defense: “Don’t! Remember, I’m mums favourite!”
Your sister gasped offendedly: “You’re not even mums third favourite!”
“That’s not true. Mapi, help me!”, you called your friend while your sister cornered you on the bench, blocking the obvious exit with her body.
Mapi shrugged nonchalantly: “I mean… I really thought she was you for a moment, Ale.”
“What?!”, you both said simultaneously, staring at the defender.
You and Alexia did look similar but there was no way that you looked over thirty years old!
Ingrid put a hand to her girlfriends arm, subtly grimacing: “You offended two Putellas at once, that’s a new record, love.”
“But I agree with Mapi. They look so similar.”, Kika chimed in and was immediately rewarded with a glare from your sister in return.
“Are you saying I look old?!”, you asked the Portuguese woman, your lips formed to a pout.
An amused smile appeared on Alexia’s face. “I’ve to admit I’m a bit flattered by the fact that I still look as young as her.”  
“I can assure you, you don’t.”, you replied teasingly.
“Rude.”, your older sibling commented, punching you playfully.
“You’re basically twice my age.”, you added grinning.
“Don’t exaggerate.”, she laughed, hands resting on her hips.
“I don’t!”, you insisted. The age gap between her and you were thirteen years, and you turned 17 in June. You were forever your mother’s miracle she hadn’t expected anymore but was glad to have received.
“So, are you going to swap shirts or play with each other’s?”, Aitana interjected curiously.
“We’ll swap shirts. Come on, little one.”, Alexia declared in her captain voice.
“Come and get it if you want.”, you gave her a challenging look.
“Don’t play games with me.”, your sister rolled her eyes in an annoyed manner.
“Or what?”, you stuck your tongue out cheekily before starting to jog away from the blonde.
“Fine! I’ll catch you anyway.”, she yelled smirking.
“Prove it.”, you responded, you stumbled over your feet which was then Alexia caught up with you, her body towering over you.
“I got you now give me my shirt.”, the midfielder demanded slightly out of breath, after she started to tickle you.
“Ale, stop!”, you gasped.
“I’ll when you return what belongs to me.”, the captain said.
“Okay, fine. You won.”, you sighed, swapping her shirt for yours.
“Thank you.”, Alexia smiled satisfied.
“Happy now?”
“Very., your sister confirmed, she paused for a moment when continued beaming, this is your friendly reminder that cooking is on you tonight and no, Olga won’t help you this time.”
“I already gave you your shirt back, you could at least let your girlfriend cook for me.”, you whined.
“No, it’s your turn.”, she shook her head.
“Ugh, fine.”, you groaned.
The training was about to start now, the playing time was officially over, and you wanted to prove Pere that you belonged into the squad not because of your famous surname but because of the talent of your own.
Later in the kitchen Olga noticed you struggling with the recipe you were trying to cook, so she stepped inside with a friendly smile on her lips.
“Don’t worry I’ll help you, Ale is busy with business calls, so she won’t notice.”
“When is she not busy?”, you returned smiling.
“Good point.”, your sisters girlfriend admitted.
Gratefulness was spreading in your chest.
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 hours
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141 with a partner who likes to bite
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Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes
Word Count: 800
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"
John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.
"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."
The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.
Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.
Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.
"Stop."
He nips at your throat.
"Fucking."
Then he nips at your shoulder.
"Biting."
Finally, John nips at your upper arm.
"Me."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."
You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.
“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.
Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.
Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”
You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”
Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.
"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.
“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.
He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”
“Can’t help it,” you mutter.
“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.
You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.
“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”
“Kyle.”
“Mean bite.”
“I swear to God, Kyle.”
“A—”
You place your hand over his mouth.
John "Soap" MacTavish
With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.
Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.
A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.
What’s one little bite?
It won’t hurt.
Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.
Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.
One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.
You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.
“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.
“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.
"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.
“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.
A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.
Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.
But you lose.
Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.
“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.
"I didn't bite," you mutter.
Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.
He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."
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annwrites · 3 days
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— billy hargrove quotes  ⏧·₊̣̇. “ | read
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❝Hey, sweetheart, need a ride?❞
❝Sorry, you say somethin’, baby? I can’t hear you over the stereo!❞
❝Friday Night at the drive-in theater they’re having a showing of Nightmare on Elm Street. I was wondering if you’d want to go with me? Don’t worry, if you get scared, I’ll hold your hand.❞
❝Don’t waste your time, man. She’s a fuckin’ prude.❞
❝Y/N, who did this? I’ll fuckin’ kill him.❞
❝You want to go west and so do I. So, we might as well go together. At least you’ll be safe if you’re with me.❞
❝I'm not the one that gave her a tune-up. So, you want to ring my shit up now, or what?❞
❝If you think I'm about to let you behind the wheel, sweetie, you have another thing comin'.❞
❝You worry too damn much, darlin'. Might help you relax if you just got laid.".
❝See somethin' you like, darlin'?❞
❝Oh yeah, she wants me.❞
❝Because I don't need to worry about your ass disappearin'. And I'm fuckin' beat, so I'm not going back out. Close the damn door.❞
❝Knew I'd get you into bed eventually.❞
❝I don't mind 'em fiesty, y'know.❞
❝Mornin', sunshine. You sleep good? I know I did.❞
❝You want to take your frustrations out on me, baby? I can think of lots of funner ways to do it.❞
❝Just trying to get you to lighten up a little, sugar. You know, you are allowed to have fun.❞
❝You want to play footsie, darlin'?❞
❝Touch her again and I'll beat your fuckin' ass! You hear me, asshole?❞
❝Stay down, if you know what's fuckin' good for you.❞
❝Fine, yeah, I'm fuckin' jealous! That what you wanted to hear? Huh?❞
❝If you need somethin' else to lick, I know where you can put your tongue at, sweetheart.❞
❝I think you like getting those perfect feathers ruffled.❞
❝I definitely think at least one thing is pretty.❞
❝Trying to kiss you, pretty girl.❞
❝You're stuck with me, baby.❞
❝Please come back with me. I can't do this without you.❞ (...) ❝I don't want to be alone anymore.❞
❝You should see me under the hood of this thing, sweetheart. I’d really have you sweating then.❞
❝We’ll have to pick you up a bikini, sweetheart.❞
❝Oh, c’mon. Just try this one on. Humor me, honey.❞
❝Oh, baby, you should know by now: I’m not one to give up easily.❞
❝You should see what else these fingers are good at playing with.❞
❝Might want to slip your suit on, too if we're going to swim. Unless you'd rather skinny dip?❞
❝I'll tell you this much, honey, the water won't be the only thing making you wet tonight if I have anything to say about it.❞
❝You don't have to keep it together all the time with me. You can be whoever you want now; do whatever you want. No one's going to stop you.❞
❝I'll have to get you liquored up so I can finally take advantage of you.❞
❝God, you're such a fuckin' tease. I don't buy the innocent act anymore, so don't bother with it.❞
❝Be a lot warmer if you just pressed yourself up against me again like last night.❞
❝I'm not tired. You could always help with that.❞
❝Honey, if you wanted to spoon, all you had to do was ask.❞
❝No, that's not my pistol, before you ask. I'm just that happy to see you.❞
❝If you want to keep playing hard-to-get, sweetheart, we still have plenty days of driving before us, so we can play that game. Just know you won’t win.❞
❝I have no problem hand-feeding you, princess.❞
❝I’m nothing if not a man of my word, baby. I told you that you were stuck with me. I meant that. So I’ll wait for however long you want to keep holding out for. You take that to mean whatever you want it to.❞
❝Your hair looks nice, since I never told you. I was right: it makes you look hot.❞
❝You think I acted that way because I didn’t like you?❞ (...) ❝It’s the very opposite. You should know that by now, honey.❞
❝You want to talk, then we’ll talk. But I need to get my blood-alcohol level up first.❞
❝You like my package, sweetheart?❞
❝That your way of asking me to be sweet on you, baby?❞
❝I only had eyes for you since day one, baby. There was just somethin' about you, I guess. Honestly, I think it was the fact you never tried to get my attention.❞ (...) ❝Every man likes a chase. And I'll be damned if you haven't given me one. A few times.❞
❝But once I had her in the backseat and we got down to business, there was only one girl on my mind, and it sure as hell wasn't her.❞
❝You need a hand with that, baby?❞
❝Fuck,❞ (...) ❝Are you always this wet?❞
❝That feel good, honey?❞
❝When you come, sweetheart, I want you to fucking scream my name. I want half this damn place to hear it.❞
❝That's it, baby, come for me. C'mon, sweetheart, you're almost there.❞
❝That's my fuckin' girl.❞
❝Fuck, that's fuckin' perfect. Just like that, angel.❞
❝I'm so fuckin' close, baby. I'm about to cum. Fuck, keep going. Jesus Christ.❞
❝God, that was fuckin' perfect.❞
❝Please, angel, no one has said it to me since my mom left. Please... I feel it, too.❞
❝I know it’s not your monthly or I would’ve found out as much last night with my hand between your legs.❞
❝Don’t ever fucking touch her again! You hear me, you fuckin’ piece of shit?❞
❝You’re fucking mine. You understand me? You’re mine.❞
❝Next time I see another guy touching you, I won’t stop until I have fucking killed him.❞
❝Please don’t go. I’m in love with you.❞
❝I didn’t want to acknowledge it—admit it. I mean, fuck, what if you didn’t feel the same?❞
❝But I just…started seeing you differently the more we spent time together.❞
❝Please don’t leave. I’ll do fucking anything. Please, Y/N. I…I can’t lose you, too. Please, God, I’m begging you, stay.❞
❝I love you. Please. I’ll change, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll be whoever you need me to be. Just don’t walk out that door, I’m fuckin’ begging you.❞
❝Just let me prove to you that I can be better. The kind of man that’s worthy of you.❞
❝Angel, I know I don’t deserve you. Fuck, I probably never will. And I know you deserve a hell of a lot better than me. But you’re all I want. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want you. I…I need you. Just, what can I do to fix this?❞
❝I want you. Now. Maybe...maybe forever. I guess we can figure that part out together. If you'll still have me. If you could ever fuckin' forgive me for all the shit I've done—put you through. It's not always going to be perfect. I'm going to piss you off and keep getting on your last nerve for my own amusement. I'll never stop being a pain in your ass. But it's only because I—❞ He sighs. ❝Because I love you. So, please, just stay. I think... I think that we belong together. Who the hell else is going to put up with me the way you have? Who else could ever understand the shit I've been through but someone else who's been through it, too?❞
❝Honey, I don't want anybody else.❞
❝You have no idea what it meant to me, sweetheart. A lot. Before...whatever shit I did with a girl was just sex. Not intimacy. Things are different with you.❞
❝I didn't know what the fuck to do with that: being in love. So I did the only thing I knew how to and punished you for it. For making me fall for you. Even if that had never been your intention, it happened anyway. It was always going to, I think.❞
❝You've been a naughty girl and you're getting punished.❞
❝Jesus. Easy, killer. I said park it, not give me whiplash.❞
❝Now, how the fuck am I supposed to behave myself when I know what you look like under your clothes now?❞
❝You realize that when we're alone in a room together, I'm not letting you wear clothes ever again?❞
❝I can't believe you're finally mine.❞
❝Shh, I know. You're close, aren't you, sweetheart?❞
❝You're lucky I didn't finish in my fucking jeans just now.❞
❝You do know driving my car isn't the only thing I'm going to be teaching you, right?❞
❝I'll never love anyone else the way I love you, not after everything we've been through. Only we understand each other. No one else ever could—will. You're mine. Forever.❞
❝You're going to fucking cum this time.❞
❝God, you’re fucking soaked. I can hear just how wet you are.❞
❝C’mon, baby, I know you like this. Tell me what you need.❞
❝Tell me how to get you to cum all over my cock, doll.❞
❝You’re fuckin’ insatiable. And I thought my sex-drive was bad.❞
❝I told you I always get what I want.❞ (...) ❝I meant you, baby. It was always you.❞
❝Y’know what, putting you in cuffs at some point seems like a good idea, too, now that you mention it.❞
❝God, you look so fucking hot right now. You’re perfect, honey.❞
❝Maybe I should see what my shifter looks like inside of you next.❞
❝Now there's an idea. You want me to pull your hair, honey? I always wondered what it'd feel like wrapped around my fist.❞
❝Maybe I'll let you yank on mine, too, next time I have my head between your legs.❞
❝Besides, how the hell am I supposed to sleep with you pressed up against me like this all night?❞
❝My face has been between your legs, making a meal out of the place you piss from, and that's what turns you off?❞
❝Baby doll, you're on fire, how do you feel cold?❞
❝Without...without you, all of it means nothing. It'll have all been for nothing. It was for you. All this shit.❞
❝Incase you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m the jealous type.❞
❝Was half-tempted to get my knuckles bloody for you back then, too. Just from him asking you out alone. And right in front of me, at that.❞
❝So, I finally flipped her on her stomach, pretended it was you, and laid some pipe. End of story.❞
❝Not your type, huh? Guess I’m the real winner here after all. So, what was it about me, then? My car? My rebel attitude? My devilishly good looks.❞
❝I wouldn’t have done all of this for anyone else.❞
❝Just trying to show my girl a good time. What, you've never been young and in love before?❞
❝C'mon, baby, we'll go blow a grand at Circus Circus instead.❞
❝Think you might be my little good-luck charm.❞
❝Not my fault that my cock is all you can think about.❞
❝You should know by now that I’m in this for the long haul. That you’re it for me. I know you deserve better than me. You always will. But I’ll try my best, alright? To be a good dad. I had a shitty fuckin’ example, but maybe I can learn from his mistakes. I’ll take care of you.❞
❝We’ll…we’ll get married. I’ll be better than he was. I have to be. You deserve that.❞
❝Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be wearing it long.❞
❝I love you. I love you. I love you.❞
❝Promise me that you’re mine for forever.❞
❝Man, that is one hot mama.❞
❝You’re lucky I’ve already got you knocked up. Because if I didn’t?❞ (...) ❝You’d be on your back right now getting bred.❞
❝Trust me, kid, you could do a lot worse when it comes to parents.❞
❝I’m gonna marry that girl one day.❞
❝Not a good day unless I’ve gotten on your last nerve, sweetheart.❞
❝Well, well, look who it is.❞
❝Somebody specific you’re trying to catch the attention of tonight, sweetheart?❞
❝So, what’s that pretty lil’ heart desire?❞
❝If you’re lookin’ for fun, I’m right here, honey.❞
❝You’re dancing with a man, not a boy.❞
❝You look really pretty tonight. I don’t think I told you that.❞
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senualothbrok · 2 days
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So there’s that interaction with the Drow Twins where, if you are romancing Gale and you choose the male Drow to have ‘boring sex’ with, one of the dialogue options is: ‘If I want to have sex like that I can just ask Gale.” (as mentioned in this post)
Putting aside how most Galemancers find that whole interaction distasteful (myself included) it got me thinking about how the game insults Gale by implying that he would ever give you ‘boring sex’. Gale. The guy who fucks you like a God in 8 dimensions in the sky if you let him. That guy. Boring sex? Well. I don’t see it, but if that’d what the game says, it must be true!
So since you are an excellent writer of Gale smut, I thought maybe you could help us envision this a bit better? Maybe give us a fic about how ‘boring’ sex with Gale can be. And if we have to accept it, we have to accept it.
So I’m thinking that for this boring scenario, it won’t involve the Astral sky, or magic, or even his practiced tongue. It’s just regular ol’ bed sex with regular ol’ Gale Dekarios. But maybe something really boring happens like Gale has a vivid nightmare that Tav dies, and he wakes up in a cold sweat and his adrenaline at maximum only to find his beloved alive and well, sleeping peacefully next to him. Then maybe it gets even more boring because Tav wakes up, sees his distress and puts their hands on his face, and at their touch Gale just snaps.
I’m thinking about how snore-inducing it is when he rolls his whole body onto Tav’s, reveling in the fact that they are HERE, they are ALIVE, they are WHOLE, and Tav can feel how rock hard he is as he grinds desperately into their leg. How boring it is as Gale’s hot breath mingles with theirs, as he devours their mouth over and over, as the only word his practiced tongue can form is a breathless ‘please’ as his grinding grows more desperate.
Then I can only imagine how Tav must be bored to tears as they eagerly consent, and Gale doesn’t just slide into them but pounds into them, as if the only thing keeping his orb from exploding is him sheathing himself as deeply as possible in Tav over and over and over. And how Tav must be practically out of their mind with boredom as they run their nails down Gale’s back, biting back a scream of pure disinterest. Gods! Can you imagine how dull this would be??
So, if you please—if you could use your incredible talents to craft a boring scenario and go into every excruciatingly boring detail of Gale sex, we would be most appreciative! Even if we do just have to accept it!!
Please, my friend—BORE US TO DEATH 🫠🫠🫠
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My friend, you are trying to kill me 🫠
I do not want to deprive the world of this masterpiece of smut that you have already written 🫠 And I'm not sure how long it will take me to write this piece so I couldn't hold onto this ask selfishly for a moment longer 🫠
I would absolutely LOVE to write some good old fashioned bed sex with Gale. Right now I'm thinking exhausted horny or sleepy horny 🫡
I apologise in advance if this takes me absolutely ages 🤦🏻‍♀️🙏🏻 thank you for your patience and this amazing brainworm and for the treat that your actual ask was 💜🫂
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multimilfs · 3 days
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Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader: The Reigning Game, Chapter (5/?) - Vows Made With Sacred Blades
Summary: With a new threat brought to light and victory on the horizon, what will you do next?
AO3
A/N: Not me showing up 3 years late to my own party...
In all seriousness, this story underwent HEAVY edits. I recommend rereading the whole thing as I added scenes and adjusted old ones. Also, I answered a bunch of questions in my end note on a03, so I'd also read that xoxo
Tag List: @white--lillies @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @imtrashinflames @thatmacrameisnotgonnahitchitself @thoroughly--confused (apologies if i missed anyone, it has been a while)
Warning(s): Blood, Suicide Mention
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(Previous Chapters)
“Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.” P.K. Dick
You don’t remember when Agatha fell to her knees.
The sword catches the light, dripping with thin, bright blood. Agatha’s blood. It startles you that she’s the same inside as you; you had expected corruption to flow through her veins, staining her black from the inside out.
Agatha groans. Barely propped up on her knees, she’s using one hand to support herself while the other glows and fizzles out repeatedly. The sword doesn’t vanish, the wound doesn’t heal.
The wound may not have been by your own hand, but is this… victory? Have you won?
“Coward,” Agatha spits, “stabbing me in the back.”
Your heart races with something strangely like fear, yet a little to the left. With every drop of blood staining the grass the emotion grows. Her winces with every move twist something in you. Revenge is like honey on your tongue—so why do you feel sick?
Let her die.
Lightness sweeps through your limbs. Walking away now would be so easy. It is your turn to have the last word.
“Help me up.” Agatha demands.
Her chest rises, though stutters each time as the pain of her flesh sliding over the blade renews. Under her breath she lets loose a string of obscene curses.
You tilt your head, your own voice sounding far away, “Why should I?”
Agatha freezes. For the first time since falling, she looks at you. You’re struck by the change in circumstances; not long ago it was you kneeling at her feet, begging. You’re seized by the desire to feel her beg.
You want to hold her heart in your hands and squeeze.
“Don’t do this. Not now.”
The laugh comes too easy, “I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness.”
“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”
You stare at her, hard; the paling of her skin, the way her fingers are clenched in the grass, palm sputtering purple. Her eyes are furious. There’s also something else there you can’t quite place.
“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”
Agatha’s lips pull into a smirk. It lacks the usual strength, but you still find yourself unmoored—fear creeping in where triumph was moments earlier.
Her eyes drag over you. Her own head tilts.
“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”
You can’t breathe.
“I beg your pardon?”
You stand back—watching, waiting. Her eyes bore into you, the pain in them becoming more evident. You feel sick.
It’s wrong to let her suffer, to watch her bleed out when you can help, but wouldn’t she do the same given the chance? How many battles had you fought, how many thousands cut down just so she could get to you? And she hadn’t allowed you the dignity of dying with your people.
No, she forced you into this circus.
You’re better than her; you’ll grant her the dignity of a swift death.
“You want to be the one responsible, always have.” Agatha says, the hint of a wheeze creeping into her speech. You’re surprised she held out as long as she did. “That’s why you put the poison in my tea, isn’t it?”
She… She knew.
She knew.
“Your death is for the best.” You say.
“She’ll s-slaughter them all. What was it you said—a Queen does what is best, even when it isn’t in her interests?” Agatha laughs, but it's hollow, weak, “Some Queen you are, signing their death warrant.”
You fall to your knees at her side.
Agatha Harkness is the source of all your problems, a tormenter you just cannot escape; but if you kill her now, you undo all you’ve done, and condemn your people to death—or worse. You have to act as a Queen ought. You need her.
“What do I do?” You whisper.
“Get… Get me outside this damn barrier. I’ll handle the rest.”
But hadn’t you already—?
When you stand, you’re barely able to lift Agatha to lean on you. If not for the little remaining strength she has you’d be done for. But you take what you can get and push through the screaming of your body to drag her toward the barrier that wasn’t there a moment ago.
The barrier gleams and twists in place. It's objectively beautiful, but what you’ve witnessed here has dulled your admiration.
You’re steps away when there’s a chuckle on your right, “I have to admit, you surprise me.”
You shove Agatha through before you can think. Without touching the barrier yourself, you turn, and stare into the eyes you’re coming to hate more than the original pair.
The too-wide smile again greets you, “With all that rage I expected you to take my sword and cut her apart.”
“I’m not a monster.”
“Aren’t you?”
“You said I had a fortnight.”
“You do,” She hums, unbothered by your glare, “this is a warning.”
“You think your promises weren’t warning enough? Your intentions were plain.” You snarl.
A distorted, hollow laugh crawls from her mouth, “You know nothing of what I’ll do to you. Your dear, sweet wife went easy on you.”
“You know nothing.”
She had been looking off at some distant marker, only for her head to snap violently to look at you, the crack making you flinch. The once-empty gaze is now full of fury. Behind the blackness, a flame burns bright.
“I know more of her than you’ll ever understand.” She hisses, “And if you were smart, you’d have let her die.”
And she’s gone, as if a product of your imagination.
You reach out and feel yourself pulled back through the barrier.
-- --
“If they never come out of there, what happens?” Darcy whispers.
Lady Darcy always prided herself on an excellent understanding of magic and magical theory; but with every moment spent in the world alongside Agatha Harkness, she grows less sure.
Agatha Harkness is an anomaly; the kind of witch born once in a thousand years. It seems as if magical anomalies follow in her wake, but are they caused by her, or merely drawn out of hiding by her power?
They stand alone in the clearing with their thoughts, Guards and company preparing to take their leave should the two of you return. Hope fades more every moment. 
Lord James looks utterly defeated, “I… I don’t know. They’ve left no heir.”
“Which means The Council will appoint one.”
A look of dread passes between the two.
“We can’t let that happen.”
“How are we going to stop them?” Darcy raises a brow.
Lord James Woo spent his life serving at your side, and proudly; you’ve held tight to propriety, unbent by corruption, guiding with level-headed and clear intent. The tactics in his mind now would never have your approval.
But if you’re dead, he has to look out for the living.
“We lie.”
Darcy blinks.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you properly. We lie?” She hisses.
“What else do you suggest?!”
“Oh, I don’t know, something less stupid!”
James winces.
“We say she appointed an heir prior to… this. Agatha didn’t sign off, but she didn’t speak against it, either. You and I were both witnesses.”
Pacing the small length between them, chewing on her nail, scenarios pass through both of their minds. Scenario one; somehow, the Council accepts the word as fact. Scenario two; they’re disbelieved and exiled at best, executed at worst.
You find lying reprehensible. But your goal has always been to protect the people, to offer them the best; they have to try and do the same.
“Say they buy it; who is her heir?”
The look the question earns her is particularly scathing for James. She smiles sheepishly.
Only one within the kingdom held enough of your trust to be named heir in your place. Only one person you knew would hold up under the weight of expectation and would keep the best interests of the people in mind.
The set up could not be more perfect if they tried. Not only is the woman of royal blood, but her Mother’s House widely acclaimed for their military and strategic prowess. Factor in her closeness to you and it makes the nomination impossible to ignore; far stronger than the minor Lord they would put in her place.
“Alright,” Darcy agrees, “but we’ll give them all the time we can.”
“Right.”
Luckily, or unluckily, they do not wait long.
One moment the space before them is empty, the next there is a heap of woman kneeling on the ground, propped up by a shaking arm. A heap with dark hair and clad in purple.
“Foolish fucking woman.” Agatha bites out loud enough for them to hear.
Darcy notices the sword moments before Agatha straightens, pushing said item out of her body with a long moan. James freezes. Darcy shrieks.
Agatha pays them no mind; slamming her hand onto the barrier that doesn’t allow her to pass, magic crackling at her fingertips and then pulling in, wrapping around the witch as she breathes it in. The wound in her middle knits itself back together before their eyes.
The barrier ripples. You blip into existence.
There is a split second where you blink and make eye contact with Darcy and James. The next, your eyes are drawn to the swirl of magic being pulled from the barrier and turning violet.
“Are you alright?” You demand, gripping her arm, turning her to face you as your eyes roam. Your body screams with exhaustion.
Agatha goes taut. Her theft stops when she turns to glare at you. When her lips pull up in a mighty sneer, you expect the lashing of a century; you had been seconds away from leaving her for dead, after all.
Her body relaxes in your grip, her voice careful, “I’m fine, dear.”
“Swear it?”
“I swear.”
Something inside you relaxes. You’ll live to see another day if she is near to lend her power—and well enough to do so. Your people’s safety is nearly assured.
How, though, to secure a promise of protection from her that isn’t all talk? You can’t bind a witch like her to law, try as you might. She will always have the upper hand of immeasurable power. You need that power bent to your will.
An itch scratches at the back of your mind; a memory long forgotten, a whisper of words once-said that you can’t quite understand.
“What the hell happened in there?!”
Darcy’s voice interrupts your racing thoughts. You hear the borderline panic in the question.
How heavy you feel, how weary. What about you attracts so many threats?
Agatha speaks before you can, “A new adversary has presented itself.”
“And they’re responsible for all… this?” James waves to the barrier.
“More or less.”
A look passes between Darcy and James.
“They’ve given us fourteen days to prepare, as if we need that long,” Agatha scoffs, breezing through, “but you’ll stay here and tell us of any changes. You have ravens?”
“We send word on horseback.” Darcy answers, slowly.
“Horseback? My god, how do you get anything done?”
With a wave of her hand, a metal cage appears with five ravens inside. They’re curiously quiet. Beady eyes look into yours, far more intelligence behind them than you anticipate. Their feathers shift violet in the sun but remain pure black otherwise.
Your Father seldom had the patience for training ravens; though he had attempted on and off throughout your childhood. The experience was rife with highs and lows. He would boast to your Mother, glowing with triumph one day, only to come back sullen the next. Every raven he attempted to train had flown away when it mattered.
Not for the first time, you wonder what had gone wrong; you did not know any creature that would flee permanently if endeared to their owner.
Agatha opens the cage door and holds out a finger. The nearest one steps up, though the others hop forward to nuzzle at her hand.
“Yes, hello,” Agatha coos.
Hand extracted, raven perched obediently on her finger, Agatha sets her shoulders. An air of arrogance surrounds her. She waves her other hand and a blank piece of parchment appears in the space between you.
“Write me a lovely note, darling, and I’ll show you all how to send it.” Agatha’s smile is saccharine.
“Would that I had a quill.”
“You know how to use your fingers, don’t you?”
The low, raspy note of her voice makes you flush.
You draft up a suitably nasty message and sign it with a flourish. Batting your lashes, you fold the letter, and go so far as to press a kiss to the back before handing it over. She smirks.
The kiss on the back raises into a wax seal. Agatha winks.
She beckons you forward with an impatient tilt of her head. You follow, stepping further into her space than you're comfortable with.
“Hold out your hand,” She commands and you do, mimicking her own position, “Repeat after me—Serva.”
“Serva.”
You don’t expect the raven to launch herself from Agatha’s fingers into flight; but when she does, you’re helpless to do anything but watch as she flips and twists in midair. Beside you, Agatha mutters something about showing off.
When the bird pauses and hovers, there is a flash of white light, and the letter is gone from your hands and tied instead around her leg.
Agatha scoffs, “Obedire.”
“Obedire.”
A strong burst of movement brings her back to perch on Agatha, head bowed. You tilt your head. Agatha strokes a finger over the back of the raven's head, scratching lightly.
“To the castle.”
A warble and she’s off, flying North with single-minded focus.
There’s a certain wistfulness in watching her go. What must it be like to fly, to have the freedom of the world laid out before you? Yet, she isn’t truly free; remaining captive to a Mistress who only lets her take to the skies when it suits her. How alike the two of you are.
James is staring at the still-caged ravens. One of his fingers is stuck through the bars and scratching along the raven’s head in a mirror of Agatha. It warbles, shifting closer, but doesn’t take its eyes off of its Mistress.
“It can’t be that easy.” Darcy says, arms crossed.
“Ravens are far more intelligent than horses,” Agatha shrugs, “and easier to care for. Treat them properly and they’ll do whatever you command.”
“They’re so sweet.” James coos, earning affectionate noises from the group, “Oh yes you are.”
One bird has remained on the other side of the cage away from James. Their eyes aren’t wary like you’d expect, just… curious. They sparkle with awareness.
Faintly, you hear Darcy and Agatha bickering over the merits of horses vs ravens, but you pay them little mind. You cross around the large cage to where the lone raven sits. They follow your approach.
You crouch to be eye level. The raven tilts their head.
“Hello,” You murmur, “what are you doing over here all alone?”
As expected they do not talk back. They don’t even warble. Fluttering their wings, you wait for them to cross around to another section of the enclosure blissfully absent of people. Yet, their wings settle and they bow their head.
The pose offers you a closer view under their plumage. You can see the true length of their dark feathers, where they come to connect to hidden flesh. A white protrusion among the plumage brings you pause.
Every glimpse of your Father’s ravens had been from afar; seeing them fly around his office and listening to his curses when they didn’t land at his command, or catching sight of one when they escaped their enclosure and dove through the nearest window. You’re left at a loss when faced with the trust being presented.
Would it be worth attempting to help, or will you only cause harm in your ignorance?
“A pin feather,” Agatha says right beside your ear.
You jump.
Agatha is bent next to your crouched form, propped up by one hand on the trunk where the cage sits. The position puts her face just slightly above your own. When you turn, your eyes unconsciously dart to her lips, before meeting her eyes.
The look on her face is curious. She’s taking you in like one takes in a specimen they’re studying.
“How do I fix it?”
“Pinch gently and roll it between your fingers.”
When you reach in, the raven bows her head again. She is utterly still as you follow Agatha’s instructions to the letter. Her head pops up and shakes—the white covering falling away. She nuzzles your hand sweetly.
“Say ‘thank you,’ Aquila.” Agatha says.
Aquila lets out a sound that is remarkably similar to thank you. You blink.
When you regard Agatha, you catch a glimpse of the expression leveled at Aquila and the other ravens; pure, uninterrupted affection. The emotion softens her features, eyes crinkled at the edges, lips upturned. Her beauty is striking.
Darcy and James watch from your periphery. You shake yourself from the trance you’re in.
“We should go.” You say, hushed.
Agatha turns, looking over your features, and nods. She straightens and offers out a hand. You take it. In a swift turn, she weaves your arm over her own, acting the part of lead. 
Her face is neutral, but beneath her gaze, your companions fidget and shift.
“If you return my ravens in any state less than what they’re in now, I will torture you slowly.” The statement is punctuated by a raised brow.
“We—We’ll take good care of them.” James vows.
Agatha nods. She regards you, waiting.
“Be careful. Send a letter if anything changes, but don’t go searching for anomalies—am I understood?”
Darcy nods. A haunted look passes over James’ face, dimming the usual light in his eyes. Without so much as a glance to his companion he steps forward.
“Your Majesty, may I have a word with you privately?”
You blink, grip on Agatha’s arm tensing unconsciously.
“Of course.”
Agatha releases you with a sideways glance. You focus on your advisor and friend, who at the moment resembles a wilted flower. Grim is the expression he wears; an expression you haven’t seen in a long time.
He leads you until you stand at his side under a half-blackened tree. The bark on one side is perfect, not a divot out of place, while the other side crumbles at a glance. You run your fingers along the dying side and wish for it to one day grow strong again.
Looking back, you see Agatha and Darcy side-by-side, both pointedly ignoring one another; Agatha reading a book without actually handling the pages and Darcy looking around, lips puckered in a whistle.
“Is something wrong, James?” You ask when he comes to a stop.
He fidgets. Meeting your eyes, he gives you a long look. Tilting your head makes him look away. He clears his throat once, then twice.
“Your Majesty, I— Well, you see, we—” James sighs, then blurts, “Have you given any thought to an heir?”
You blink.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Marriages usually bring about heirs to fill the succession, Your Majesty, and with another conflict seeming imminent I believe having something in place is worthwhile. Has there been a discussion between you and your—Her Highness?”
“I’m familiar with the expectations of marriage,” If your voice is a touch frosty, you don’t give it much attention, “and I don’t much appreciate that the topic of conversation in private parlors pertains to my marriage bed.”
“Your Majesty—”
“What is it you suggest, James? Am I to bring a child into what could turn out to be another war?” You snarl.
James flinches. Upon seeing this, regret turns a knife in your chest.
“No,” He says, quietly, “You know I’d never suggest such a thing.”
Anger is rung out of you like water from a towel, you ask, carefully, “What would you suggest I do?”
“Appoint a successor. If you do it, The Council can’t do it for you should you…”
You nod.
“I will consider it.”
“Safe travels, Your Majesty.”
When you walk from the half-dying tree, you walk alone to the carriage. Along the way Agatha falls into step at your side. You cannot find the energy to hate her company.
-- --
You had been a precocious child; at only six, testing the might of your station against the will of those left to care for you. As Crown Princess, your commands had superseded that of your minders the second you drew breath. Once or twice you’d felt guilty about how Celine—your governess—would puff up, only to deflate and bow with a ‘yes, Princess’—but the guilt was washed away by the incentive of whatever you’d wormed your way into.
By seven, your Father had been made wise to your behavior; though you could never figure out how; you had long since commanded all your minders not to speak a word of your commands. But he knew and sought to punish you in a manner that made a lasting impression.
He let you sit in silence.
Silence, he had said, was the best teacher. One cannot ignore their innermost self if they’re forced to face them.
The room he had the servants make up was plain; boasting only a cushioned chair in the center of the space. You were not permitted to drag said chair over to the window. The task of sitting with your thoughts was as simple as the room, and far more boring.
Guards were posted outside the door to see you were not disturbed or harmed. No servants were allowed in otherwise.
You’d thought him a silly old man. In the absence of distractions you had your wild, adventuring mind to keep you busy—you would not fall into whatever trap he believed he’d set.
But two hours turned into four and your head ached with the effort of conjuring up more daydreams. Then you slept. When you woke, there was no more sunlight, and your head no longer hurt. You imagined you were a bird flying through the window and laughing in your Father’s face. It did not satisfy you. You paced the room, then sat back down, then paced again. Despite having rested, your body began to ache with exhaustion and the pain in your head from before returned.
“I hate him.” You’d whispered, then immediately regretted it.
For how busy he was, he still found a sliver of time each week to see you. Sometimes it was something quick like sitting in on one of your lessons, or, on special occasions he’d join you and your Mother for dinner. For how harsh he could be at times, you’d never been anything but excited when he walked in the room. 
The guilt at the words spoken to yourself prompted your mind to spiral. How else had you been cruel, spewing awful words where it was not deserved?
You had been unkind, you’d realized. By commanding the servants in ways you had no right to, you had opened them up to punishments of which they were undeserving. Above all else, you were still a Princess; not yet of the right to command in the ways your Father did.
Guilt was a powerful emotion. And when your governess was permitted to peer in, she found you on the floor before the seat you’d been allowed, knees to chest, shaking with tears.
The moments following had been a blur. You think Celine had tried to usher you to your feet, but it’s a missing piece; all you remember is being carried from the room and falling asleep, waking to your Father standing above you.
“You’ve learned your lesson?”
You nodded.
“Good,” He offered a stilted pat to your head, “Do not forget it.”
The guilt had made you sick for the remainder of the week; everything you ate, save for the smallest portions, found the way back up. Celine was one of your only visitors, with the exception of your Mother and your teachers.
Your Father had been right in the end; silence had been your greatest educator.
You wish you were alone with the silence now, but as of late, everywhere and everything is touched by Agatha. She sits on the other carriage bench, book held magically aloft as she reads.
To say you’ve been through a lot in a day would be selling your experiences short; yet your mind keeps returning to the blood on that sword and the sickening pride of knowing she had no way out. You had, for a moment, tasted victory—revenge. And now you close your eyes against the nausea it brings. How close you’d come to condemning your people, all to satisfy your sickening desire.
She had remembered your goal; but was it only to manipulate you into keeping her alive? In her words there had been a subtle promise of usefulness, of protection. Subtle isn’t what you need.
You’ve no idea how long Agatha’s been alive. The true weight of her power is a mystery to you that you’re not likely to solve alone. Her peers could judge her power, but would any come if you called? You need to bind her power to what serves your people but short of a Witch’s Vow there’s nothing—
A Witch’s Vow.
The forgotten thought itching at the back of your mind is realized. You thrum with satisfaction.
“You made a promise today, to help my people—I want you to swear on it.”
Agatha gazes up, a lazy smile stretching, “Very well, dear. I swear.”
“Make a Witch’s Vow over it.”
She goes still. The smile vanishes and something passes through her eyes. The book that levitates before her dissipates in a pop.
“And if I don’t?”
“You will.”
“Demanding a Witch’s Vow does not bind me to one.”
“It would protect you.”
“Protect me?” Agatha scoffs.
“You make this vow to me and I’ll pause my attempts in killing you.”
“I’m not afraid of you, dear.”
“Maybe not, but I’m sure you’re afraid of her.” You say, tilting your head. A smug smile stretches over your features, “And what’s to stop her from coming after you again, should I ask?”
“Your shortsightedness is embarrassing, darling, I thought we were past this; if I die, you and your people follow.”
“Given your unwillingness to swear aid, it seems we’ll die either way. I’m simply planning for the outcome with the greatest reward.”
You watch her, she watches you. Her narrowed eyes dart over various planes of your face and for once you have no desire to shrink under the scrutiny. Had she wanted to kill you, you’re confident she’d have done so already; no, she wants you alive, and that can be used to your advantage.
Her eyes glow purple and hands clench in her skirts. Agatha sighs and her eyes return to their normal blue.
“You’re as open a book as they come, it’s a wonder she even needed into your mind.” Agatha rolls her eyes, “We need to work on that.”
You tuck your curiosity away for later, “Will you make the Vow or not?”
“Yes, yes, I’ll make your silly vow. Name your terms.”
“I want you and your magic sworn to the service of the kingdom—and that you will not act against it over the duration of our agreement.”
“No. New terms.”
“Those are my terms.”
“Swearing my magic to the service of your kingdom restricts my use of it for any other purpose. I’m not wasting my time on the same trick.”
“It wouldn’t be forever. You’re only bound until I dissolve the agreement.”
She leans forward, baring her teeth, blackened hands stopping just short of grabbing you. Her nails seem longer, sharper. Should she grab you, you fear for the damage they’d wreak on your flesh.
“I know your manipulative little mind, darling, and I won’t let you chain me to your kingdom until it no longer pleases you.” Agatha snarls, “New. terms.”
Despite the show of force, that sense of calm remains. You see the heart of her, the fear swimming in her eyes over the idea of being chained, restricted. Powerless. Does the fear of losing her own power fuel her joy at taking your own?
You should feel offended that she thinks so little of you—never have you desired to chain someone, to bind them—but the better side of you seldom interacts with her. The idea of her in chains pleases you. You shift as that pleasure makes itself known at the apex of your thighs.
“During the duration of our deal, you’ll act in the best interests of the kingdom. If there are threats, you’ll do what you can to handle them; and if there are people in need, you’ll lend your power to aid them.”
Agatha regards you thoughtfully, “No little clause about not killing you?”
“My death serves no benefit to my people.”
Her eyebrows raise. With a shake of her head she holds out her hand, palm up. You mimic the action.
An artful flick of her fingers and a wisp of violet summon an ornate dagger into her open hand. The hilt is short, silver wrapped in indigo briars that while appearing sharp don’t seem to mar Agatha’s hand. A blade of black metal extends from it, curving to-and-fro, until sharpening to an intense point.
You wince at the sight of it, “Can you not… use magic?”
“You want a sacred Vow, don't you?” Agatha scoffs, “There’s no Vow more sacred than that made with a Coven Blade.”
“You don’t have a coven.”
Agatha scowls, “I am aware. It was inherited.”
“From who?”
“My Mother.”
“If it belongs to her coven, shouldn’t one of her fellowship have it?”
“They would,” She says, turning and holding the blade point-down above her palm, “if they weren’t all dead.”
Without so much as a wince, she carves an X in the center of her palm, flesh parting cleanly. Blood pools in her hand.
“Oh.”
She moves so fast you don’t know to anticipate the pain until it blossoms up your arm. Looking down, you wear a matching X, complete with the ever-growing pool of blood.
Agatha presses her palm to the top of your forearm, just below where it meets the elbow. Blood seeps between her fingers and around the curve of your arm.
“I, Agatha Harkness, swear upon my blood and gifts, that I will act in the best interests of your kingdom. I will destroy any entity that threatens these interests and lend my power to those within your borders that require its support.” As she speaks, she drags her hand down the length of your forearm, leaving a smear of red in its wake. When she clasps your palms together, she looks at you, magic swirling in her eyes, “This is my Vow to you.”
Upon the final word, lavender flame erupts down the length of your arm and her own, burning away the blood left behind. It moves and wedges its way between your interlocked palms. The light that emits, violet and white and so bright it burns, forcing your eyes closed. The flesh of your palm is mended as if nothing happened.
Agatha’s palm still bears the X, though healed.
“So I don’t forget.” She winks.
“If you did, what would happen?”
“For something small, maybe a little zap, some exhaustion.” Agatha shrugs, “Something large… I’m sure the punishment would fit the crime. Eager to see me tortured, are you?”
You do your best to ignore the salacious grin.
“I want to be sure you won’t get off easy, that’s all.”
“Getting off is plenty easy with the right help.”
The roll of your eyes doesn’t hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. She cackles at the sight. You don’t attempt to muster a glare, convinced it would only amuse her further.
“What is your plan for protecting the borders?”
Her eyes still twinkle with amusement. You’re not sure what is so funny.
“Protecting the borders is a little difficult since she’s within them, dear, but I can exclude that section from my wards if it pleases you.”
“How?”
“We do not have time for you to learn the basics of casting.”
“Fine,” You sigh, “but I want the wards handled discreetly.”
“I’m not all explosions and smoke-clouds—that was only to get your attention.” She smirks.
“Is everything a joke to you?”
“Yes.”
Villages faced with the might of Agatha’s forces had once chosen between fighting or fleeing. Though some had made a third choice; hanging themselves from rafters at the whisper of impending invasion.
Monica had gone to pay respects in your place, once. When she returned, she had requested three days leave. The look in her eye she returned with has never gone away.
It’s been weeks since the threat of Agatha was settled; what would the people do if they caught wind of another war on the horizon?
Agatha sighs, as if reading the thoughts on your face, “I will be discreet. Best interests of the kingdom, remember?”
“I want to go with you.”
“That is the opposite of discreet.”
“We’ll go under the cover of night—”
“I know you’re woefully uneducated in the ways of witchcraft, but the weight of transporting two beings and setting wards of the size we’ll require? Too much, even for me.”
“There has to be a way. Please.”
The hard lines of her face soften just so. Her blue eyes are contemplative, seeing more than you would like.
“Two of the sites are on our way. The others I’ll handle alone—a sudden tour of the borders might raise a few suspicions.” 
You deflate. Something within you that had once been ready to argue turns to liquid, slithering around your heart, tugging on all the little strings that make your eyes water.
“Thank you.” You say. 
“Don’t thank me yet.”
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canirove · 2 days
Text
Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 32
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“And if you run out of nappies, there is a box in the storage room. And he has to have Mr. Poo with him when he is sleeping, even during naps. And if he can't sleep he usually calms down if you sing to him “Freed from desire” because Declan sings him football songs and for whatever the reason that calms him down. And if he…”
“Liv… Liv, Olivia” Declan's mum says, stopping my rambling. “I know what to do. I've raised three boys and a few grandchildren, remember?” she chuckles.
“Yes, sorry. I'm sorry. I just… you know.”
“It's the first time you are gonna be away from Oliver since he was born.”
“Yes” I sigh.
It's been three months since I gave birth. Three of the most exhausting, daunting but also wonderful months of my life, full of sleepless nights and tears, but also many laughs, cute moments, and my phone saying I'm running out of memory due to all the videos and photos I've taken of Ollie. I've even had to make different folders so everything is a bit organized.
There are a couple just for photos and videos of him, one for all the content with my mum, with Declan's parents, with his nephews, with Madders and Kennedy, with their kids, with Olga… And of course, there is one only for Declan. After the ones all for Ollie, his has to be the one that has the most content.
But I just can't help myself. Seeing him being a dad is… I don't know how to explain it. It's like it makes me fall in love with him even more than I already am, sometimes making me feel like my heart is about to burst from all the love it has for him and Ollie. Other times tho, it makes me think of what I overheard him and his mum talk about. About the fact that he told her that he was in love with me.
More than once I've wanted to ask him about it, if what I heard was true or if it was my mind playing games with me because I was about to bring a human being to the world and everything inside me was a chaos. But I've never managed to do it, I've  always gotten cold feet. Though that may be about to change.
He has booked us a couple of days away at the same place where we stayed for our babymoon with the excuse that I deserve to relax, have a good night of sleep, and just think about myself for a bit (easier said than done). And since that was the place where we were supposed to talk about our feelings and what the kisses we shared meant, this may be the right moment to do it. To stop being a coward and tell him what I feel, to say the three words.
“Ok, our bags are in the car. Are you ready?” Declan asks, joining me and his mum.
“She's ready” she says.
“Can't I check on Ollie again? Just to be sure he is…”
“Liv, the little man is asleep, he's ok. And you already said goodbye to him like five times” Declan chuckles.
“Six. She went back to this room while you were away.”
“Really?”
“I'm sorry, I just… I can't help it” I shrug.
“He's gonna be fine, Liv. I have everything under control, and tomorrow your mum is coming over too. He's gonna get all the attention and cuddles in the world” she smiles.
“Can I give him a last one?”
“Declan, take her out of here, please” his mum laughs, pushing me towards him. “I don't want to hear from any of you in two days, understood?”
“I'll try my best to keep us, and especially her, entertained” he smirks, putting an arm around my waist and making my stomach do a flip inside me. 
“Yeah, well, umm… Can't I see him one last time, then?”
“No” Declan's mum says, definitely using the same tone she has had to use plenty of times with her sons. “And now go or you'll be stuck in traffic for hours” she says, moving her hands in the air and basically kicking us out of the house.
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
“Have I ever told you that this is the best chocolate cake ever?”
“Every single time you've eaten it since that first time” Declan laughs.
“It feels like it happened in another lifetime” I sigh.
“It does, doesn't it?” he says, finally managing to open the champagne bottle he had on his hands. It is our last night away, and to celebrate, he ordered some of that chocolate cake I love so much and some champagne. “If we went back in time and told that Liv and that Declan that two years later they are parents to the most amazing little boy, they would not believe us.”
“Nope” I chuckle. “And thank you” I say when he gives me a flute with some champagne.
“You're welcome” he smiles. “So, what should we toast to?”
“I don't know… Maybe to that amazing little boy you just mentioned?”
“You have not stop thinking about him, have you?” Declan laughs.
“Have you?”
“I have not, no” he smiles. “And how could I when I have you reminding me of him all the time? Each day he looks more like you, Liv.”
“But with your eyes.” Because my wish had come true, and he had gotten his eyes. Those blue eyes I have not been able to stop thinking about since the first time they looked at me, eyes that make me feel things no one had been able to before. 
“To Ollie?” he says, raising his flute.
“To Ollie” I reply, doing the same.
“And, since we are toasting and celebrating… I have something for you.”
“For me?”
“Yep” he says, giving me a small box. 
“Declan, I… You didn't have to get me anything. You've done enough already with this trip and everything else since I moved in with you.”
“What I've done is the bare minimum, Liv. And this is just a little something. Open it.”
“Ok” I say, my hands shaking a bit. Why am I nervous? “Oh…”
“Do you like it? I've seen you wearing both rings and necklaces and I didn't know what you liked best, so I just picked one of each.”
“I love it, Declan” I say, trying really hard to not start crying. He had gotten me a ring with Oliver engraved on it and a matching necklace with an O and a little stone hanging next to it. “Is this a real ruby?”
“It is. That's Ollie's birthstone, isn't it?”
“Yes, but… wow. I… I don't know what to say.”
“Just knowing that you love it is enough” he smiles.
“Thank you, Declan” I say, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him. 
“You're welcome, Liv” he replies, hugging me back. We stay like that for a while, just hugging and not saying a word, until a bird makes us both jump.
“What the fuck was that? A dinosaur?”
“I don't know” I laugh. “But it was loud.”
“So loud…” he chuckles. “Anyway, do you want me to help you put on the necklace?”
“Please” I say, giving it to him while putting on the ring. It fits perfectly. “How did you think of this?” I ask him to try and focus on something that isn't the way his fingers feel on my skin.
“Aaron told me that he had bought Georgina a pushing ring, and I thought I could do the same.”
“A what?”
“It apparently is a thing people do to congratulate their partners after giving birth” he shrugs.
“I had never heard of it before.”
“Neither had I. And done. How does it feel?”
“Perfect” I say, turning around to face him. “Thank you, Declan. Again.”
“That's ok” he smiles. And once again, I find myself focusing on his mouth. On his lips. On how much I want to kiss him and… “Don't do it, Liv.”
“Uh?”
“Kiss me. Don't do it.”
“I wasn't going to kiss you” I say with a nervous laugh, my face already burning. Fuck.
“But you were thinking about it, weren't you?” he smirks.
“No.”
“Sure” he says, his smirk turning into a grin.
“Ok, fine. What if I was, uh? Is there any problem with that?”
“Yes and no.”
“What?” 
“No, because I also want to kiss you, and yes, because we can't do it until we have had that conversation we were supposed to have months ago.”
“Oh, that… yes” I say, focusing on my hands. “I've wanted to talk about that too for a while but never found the moment.”
“Well, this is it. And even though the chivalrous thing to do would be to let you speak first, I can't, Liv. I must be the one explaining everything first because I am the one who behaved like a dick and the one who broke your heart.”
“Declan, you didn't…”
“C'mon, Liv” he says with a sad laugh. “You know I did and that I hurt you. I hurt you really really bad.”
“I… You did, yes” I whisper.
“I hurt you and I think I will never be able to forgive myself for it. Because I… I didn't want to do it, you know? Like… urgh” he says, running his hands through his hair.
“It's ok” I say, reaching for one of them as he lets them rest on his lap, interlacing my fingers with his and giving it an encouraging squeeze.
“I never meant to hurt you or treat you the way I did, Liv” Declan says, looking at me. “I swear that was never my intention. But I… I was a coward. I was a coward who got scared because he had never felt for any girl the things I was feeling for you. The things I still feel for you. Because I love you, Olivia” he says, those blue eyes of his looking at me in a way that hadn't before. It's like I could feel them reaching my heart and my soul if that makes any sense. “Each day I'm more convinced that I've loved you since the moment we met and you made me that first coffee, because I haven't been able to get you out of my head since then. And that scared me, Liv. That scared me so much… That's why sometimes I would ignore you and be cold around you. Because what I was feeling for you was so new and so intense that instead of just enjoying it, I would sabotage it. I talked about it many times with my brothers and some of my best friends, and they all gave me really good advice, the main one being: don't fuck it up, Declan. But instead of following it, I did the opposite and ruined it all. Instead of telling you how I felt, I ran away from you every time my feelings overwhelmed me. Because I was a coward, Liv. The biggest coward ever.”
“You weren't a coward, Declan” I say, wiping away a tear from his cheek.
“I was, Liv. I was a coward who fucked up big time, breaking the heart of the woman he loved, and making her despise me.”
“I never despised you. I hated you for a while, but I never despised you” I say, caressing his cheek. 
“But you should have. What I did to you that summer… The way I played with you for months… I deserved it.”
“You did, yes. Olga agrees on that” I chuckle. 
“I was going to explain everything to you that day, you know? I was going to tell you that I loved you and that I had been a dick who didn't deserve you. That I was going to work on myself to fix all my insecurities, that I wanted to become someone worth it of you even if you didn't want anything to do with me ever again. But then…”
“We got carried away.”
“A bit, yes” he smiles. “Then when we crossed paths again and I overheard you talking with Harry about being pregnant, and the thought that it could be mine didn't cross my mind, you know? I only thought that you had moved on just like I was trying to do and miserably falling at because you are the only woman I love, and that I deserved to feel the way I was feeling, that I had broken your heart and now it was my turn to feel that pain. But then you told me he was mine, and it was like the skies opened” he chuckles. “Because I saw it as the world giving me a second chance to fix things and do them right this time. To make up for all the wrong choices and mistakes I had made and stop being a coward. I couldn't keep being that person now that I was going to be a father. I needed to step up, to be the best version of myself for that little person that was about to come to the world and change everything forever. But while focusing on that, we've been getting closer again. And even though the thought of us getting back together is something that I've tried to keep locked away to just focus on your pregnancy and Ollie, on you two being safe… It's been almost impossible. The idea of us being a family, of us raising him together as a couple like I had dreamt many times before ruining it all, is something I constantly find myself thinking about, especially when we are together. Because I've found myself falling in love with you more than I already was, Liv. And hiding my feelings for you has been so hard… So fucking hard. You don't know how many times I've wanted to kiss you and love you but I've had to stop myself. So many times…”
“And here I was thinking I had done something wrong” I chuckle. “Because I've also wanted to kiss you many times, you know?”
“You have?”
“Yes” I nod.
“I wish I had told you earlier how I feel. That I love you and that I always have. But there have been so many things going on these past few months that I didn't want to confuse you even more and…”
“You have said it now, haven't you?” I smile, my fingers still caressing his face.
“I have, yes” he replies, letting out a big sigh and smiling back.
“Though I already knew.”
“What?”
“I overheard you telling your mum about it before Ollie decided it was time to come to the world.”
“You… shit.”
“And that's why I said earlier that I've been wanting to speak with you. I needed to know if what you had told her was real or if it was just my mind playing games, because Declan… I love you too.”
“You…”
“I think I've also been in love with you since the moment I met you at the cafeteria, because I haven't been able to keep you out of my head either. And yes, you hurt me and you broke my heart, but I… I never stopped loving you. I couldn't despite Olga constantly telling me that I should.”
“You should have listened to her, Liv.”
“Yeah, well” I shrug. “The thing is that then I got pregnant, and those feelings were still there, growing and getting stronger. And then there were moments where it felt like we were getting closer again and you were going to kiss me, but then you wouldn't, and like I said, I didn't know if I was doing something wrong, if it was my hormones making me imagine it all, if it was just me wishing we could go back to what we used to have, if I was making the same mistakes again and letting you play with my feelings… It was confusing as fuck” I laugh. 
“I wasn't playing with your feelings, Liv. I'm so sorry you felt like that. I know I did it in the past, and even though I wasn't doing it intentionally to hurt you, I… That wasn't the case this time. I promise you.”
“I know” I smile. “But then when you surprised me with the nursery… I knew it. I knew it wasn't my hormones messing up with me. It was just how I felt. I loved you and I was falling in love with you more and more each day, and since Ollie was born it has gotten to a point where I… I… I just fucking love you, Declan Rice. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you and…”
“And so am I, Liv. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you. I love you” he says before kissing me. 
And you know, even though we've kissed many times before, none of those kisses have felt like this one. There has not been a single kiss in my life that has made me feel the way this one is, to be honest. 
Because there has not been anyone I've loved the way I love Declan, and probably never will. 
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thomine · 3 days
Text
i care more to be loved : kaveh
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pair: kaveh / reader info: general audiences, consumption of alcohol (mentioned in passing), off-screen kiss scene, nonlinear narrative (numbering system in place to help make sense of time but scenes are intentionally in that order), dysfunctional relationship, canon compliant, angst (with a hopeful ending?), not proofread
summary: you don't believe you found love but you found kaveh. that's close to love, right?
word count: 5.4k links: read on ao3 / work tag notes: um. not i'm not really back from hiatus. yes that's a little women (2019) quote. you may read the author's commentary for more info.
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ONE.
There should be a word to describe those like you who withdraw from social gatherings. You don't hate people so you aren't anti-social, and it's not like you don't hang out with others—forming connections is your job. You are the guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. There are just some days you cannot bring yourself to keep up, and today is one of them. While your social circle is partying at Lambard's Tavern, you sneak out of your house into the forest beside Sumeru City with a small container of snacks and some textile. A lonely picnic it will be, but loneliness is not the issue here. Neither is hunger, but you have to keep yourself occupied.
You find a comfortable spot under shade with a beautiful view of the setting sun and lay out a shoddy sheet of straw before placing a mat over it. It's a cloth given to you by your mother after scoring well, although her face when you declared you weren't joining the Akademiya made you feel she regretted getting you anything in the first place. This mat does cost a lot so you keep it pristine to honour her efforts.
The container that keeps your food warm is also a gift, one you bought yourself after years of eyeing it through windows. It is nicer when it is on display, but you don't regret buying it. It is practical and you'll give credit to where its due despite the miscellaneous inconveniences in its design.
Once you've settled in a comfortable spot facing west, you watch as the last light of the day diminishes. This is—what you like to believe—a refuge, but your worries never cease to leave you. You wonder what your friends are doing at the tavern. Probably drinking their life away while jostling and cheering. Having fun. Playing games. Enjoying the atmosphere. Putting their best foot forward.
For love.
Like artists musicians that decorate the streets on festive nights, awaiting tips and change to drop into their hats.
As your brain depressingly quips with itself, you can't hear footsteps from behind. It is only when a shadow covers you that you take note you are not alone, and also realise you have been crying.
"I hope I'm not disturbing?" the uninvited voice asks, gently. When you turn (after wiping your tears as discretely as you can), you meet a blonde man with warm eyes made even warmer with the shine of sunset. He kneels to meet you at eye level as you present your business smile. "I saw your mat and I was wondering where did you get it?"
"Oh, this?" You stand, uncomfortable with his gesture of kneeling to meet your gaze. You wear your shoes and step off the object he's interested in so he has a full view. "It was imported from Inazuma. They sell the finest textiles so I'm not surprised it caught your attention. Want to try sitting on it? Oh, but please take off your sandals."
The man seems to be half-listening as he straightens. You wonder if your eyes are puffy to give away your earlier misery, but other than his intrepid stare directed at you, he's fixed on the mat.
"And how much would it cost? Are you still in contact with the merchant? Wait, before we continue let me introduce myself." He extends his hand for a handshake. "I'm Kaveh, an architect. I'm building a large mansion nearby and will also be in-charge of designing its interior. Such a mat would look wonderful among the furniture I plan to get."
You look around, unsure why you haven't seen any construction. Was it approved or is this guy just lofty? Regardless, you exchange pleasantries. After giving your name, you add, "I'm afraid I do not have the particulars of the merchant. My mother bought this for me"—you hope you don't look constipated—"but we are not in contact so I can't help you trace the mat's source."
"A pity," he says, shoulder slouching. "Sumeru textiles would work but I really like this design."
Again, it's not that you dislike people, but you really want to be alone right now. You look at the mat, memories of a distant past weigh heavy in your throat. It would be nice to say goodbye to it once and for all.
"You can have it." Grabbing the edges, you fold the textile as he gawks. "I don't use it other than as a mat when I'm outside—which isn't frequent. Hearing what you have planned, you'll make better use of it. I'll just get another one."
"But this is from your mother, isn't it? Wouldn't you want to keep it for that reason alone?"
You pass the rolled up mat to him with a lopsided smile. "Oh, it's just a mat to me. Don't worry about it and don't think too much of this. See you."
You then pick up your barely touched food and trudge back home before he can reject your offer.
TWO.
You hear someone call your name. It's your name, yes, but still unfamiliar on the tongue of this person. The first thought that comes to you is that it is a client, but clients don't address you by your name. Only your nickname. That's how you differentiate your personal and professional circles. All personal connections eventually mix with your profession, so they handle your name like experts. Vowels and consonants wrapped in a specific tone. This is fairly… friendly.
There was someone you met recently… you try to recall that moment but it doesn't appear until you are face to face with a blonde man with warm eyes.
Ah, Kaveh.
To his luck, you are chirpier than when he last met you. With energy to perform, you smile brightly and greet him, although your pronunciation is off as one would for new names. He doesn't seem to mind though.
"Glad to bump into you," he huffs while leaning over, supporting his upper body with hands on his knees. You let out a small laugh.
"I wouldn't call you running to greet me as bumping into me."
"Don't take it the wrong way, I wasn't stalking you or anything. I just saw you walk down this street and thought I'd say hi."
This man is puzzling. First, he claims to be building something large near where you were seated, and yet with your purview of the land you see not a single construction. Then, he runs towards you just to say hi. Is saying hi to someone you barely know that important?
"Well, um, hello then," you say, extending an arm for an awkward handshake. "How's your project so far?"
"It's…" he clears his throat. "The mat you gave me was perfect. I should really thank you. Should we have a meal together? My treat."
"No need to treat. I just had lunch with my friends. I was heading back, actually."
"Do you stay nearby?"
"Relatively close. What about you?"
"Um, I stay nearby as well."
Something is definitely up with this guy.
"Is there anything else?" you ask as you place your hands on your hips. "I'm sure you're busy yourself."
"Let me treat you at least once. Whenever you're free."
You don't understand why he's so insistent, but it reminds you of desperate clients even more desperate to keep their business afloat. They always have something to offer in hopes it can gain them something of greater value. Not that you are great at weighing these deals, but emotionally, you play this game everyday. Perhaps giving him the mat was a habitual act of the same principle. You hoped giving him the mat will grow something, and this may be your chance to harvest it.
How tiring, but isn't that necessary? Condition and reward. Didn't he say he was building a mansion? You might want someone of such caliber in your books.
"I'll take up that offer for a meal, but you don't have to pay for it." You take out a paper and pen to jot your address. "Tomorrow, dinner? I'll cook."
Once again, before Kaveh can react, you make your leave. You dissolve into the crowded street, wondering what will bloom from this.
FIVE.
You still don't know where Kaveh lives after a year, but he surely knows how to make your house like his own. You did not expect to have common interests, and his philosophies intrigue you enough to not be bored. When he doesn't appear on Fridays, you are surprised, but even then you don't push for details or a reason the next time he comes over. His life is his life and yours is yours.
You know he keeps his secrets such as details of the project (which grants him highs and lows, as all things do) while you keep your worries private. To meet him more frequently means nothing, at least that's what you believe.
"What are we?" Kaveh asks one quiet evening as you tear through your dinner. He has become such a staple in your life silence feels comfortable. His question, however, rips the atmosphere like you and your meal. You tongue feels heavy as your mind replay scenes that happened last week. He tried to bring it up once too, but the moment you expressed discomfort, he surrendered. It seems the water in the kettle has finally reached its boiling point.
"What do you mean? What else can we be?"
"Do friends really do what we do?" he probes. You give him a quizzical look, daring him to be clear. "Are you going to deny our kiss last week?"
"You stayed over and we got drunk. That's all that happened." You bite your lips. You had hoped the weekend would mean he would forget everything somehow. "You were lonely. I was lonely. That's all there is to it."
"So the kiss meant nothing." He looks forlorn, slouching in his chair as his legs sprawl under the table, as if he's as exhaled like a flattened balloon. "Why do you do this to me?" he asks, voice wavering. "Are my feelings for you not clear?"
You place your cutlery down and wipe your mouth. You lost your appetite. "I'm not here to discuss this. I'm going to go for a walk."
As you stand, so does Kaveh. He gets up with such force his chair falls back. It is a chair he bought for himself after he ruined yours. Not his fault. The chair was going to give way anyways. This chair, though, is handpicked by him to match whatever miserable mess of furniture you have. It isn't costly, but no one sits on it other than Kaveh.
He walks towards you and grabs your wrist. You flinch but do not pull away.
"You should head back home and sleep too. Maybe you just aren't in the right mind," you mumble. "You did drink yourself dead because of stress so you should rest."
"You kissed me. I can't just wake up next day and pretend everything is fine. You know how I feel about you."
"I already told you I was lonely, okay? Do you really want to be with someone who uses you because you're conveniently here? And it's not like you actually like me either."
"Why do you keep saying that? You don't know how I feel."
"I know. I know the game we play. If I didn't give you the mat that very day I would be a stranger to you even now. If I didn't show you any kindness you would have hated me. Don't you get it Kaveh? This world is based on conditions, and every condition I've set such that you'll like me. I've trapped you like a rat and I let you delude me to believing lies."
"What are you talking about?" Kaveh's voice is as scratchy as sandpaper. It doesn't sit right to see such a a pretty face this distressed. "If you say I'm stressed you must be too. Nothing from your mouth makes sense. Tell me, what's bothering you? We can work it through." He grabs your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. A gesture you've gotten used to—indulgently. He first held your hand like this when you were sick. How comforting it was but now it repulses you, yet not enough to reject his warmth still.
"Kaveh, listen to me. The moment you don't get what you want from me, you're going to walk out of this door. You don't love me. You love the conditions I set. It is like a prey falling for a predator's tricks."
"Then say you don't love me."
You swallow.
"So by your logic the reason you kissed me is because I helped you through your loneliness. Have you wondered maybe you caused it upon yourself? You keep such a distance with your friends, they don't even know about me."
"What are you implying?"
"Maybe you do love me. You can treat me as you do with your friends. Avoid me, isolate yourself, but you invite me even to your pity parties. Can you really say I'm a prey, or am I someone who willingly walked into your den for I know you aren't the predator you believe you are."
"Kaveh, please stop. You don't know me. I'll give you away as quickly as I gave the mat. You do not want to be involved with me."
You jerk your hand out of his grasp. As usual, you leave Kaveh faster than he can react. After your hour trek through the forest you return to an empty house with an empty heart.
Pity party? Pft. You definitely don't host pity parties. The moments you choose to be away from your friends are moments you regain your energy to fight the world. It is difficult to keep having to present yourself as lovable. To have someone like Kaveh accompany you through these times means nothing.
It doesn't mean anything.
SIX.
You were right. Kaveh doesn't return the next Friday, or the Friday after that. As if you've unplugged a lifeline, he doesn't exist. You don't even see him around the streets he normally hangs around.
"You seem upset," a friend of yours say. She is the owner of a small cafe situated in the bazaar. A friend from your youth you know you have to maintain good relations with. Her coffee isn't to your liking but they have won awards. In fact, brewing coffee is not her only strength. She is good at gathering intel.
"Am I?" you force a laugh. "Must be the lack of sleep. Work has been piling up as of late."
She sips her tea as you observe the stillness of yours. Rich brown liquid. Warm to touch. Memories of Kaveh's hands wrapped around yours ignite your chest with sorrow. You swallow it with your drink.
"I heard that you seldom visit the bazaar to buy dinner," your friend inquires. Of course she will turn her tricks to you. "I'm not saying you can't get your food anywhere else, but I do recall you recommending Jut's dishes. Fast and delicious for anyone working over time."
"Have you met him? I told him of your recently opened store and he said he would drop by. Wouldn't it be cool if there was a collaboration between the two of you?"
"You know when to find a business opportunity when you see one. As expected for someone who scored well in the exams."
"You just like to flatter people, don't you? You scored even higher. My mum never shut ups about it, and I believe she'll still bring it up even now."
"But my networks aren't as wide. You truly know how to rope people with that smile of yours. Not to mention you're always too kind for your own good. Thanks for the free sponsor, by the way."
You ease a laugh, glad to have the topic changed. "Oh don't mention it. It was a discounted deal anyways." You finish your drink and decide it is time to leave, but your friend's next words hold you prisoner.
"I was wondering if you've heard of Kaveh?"
"…What about him?"
"So you do know him."
"Bumped into him once. Said he was working on a big mansion in the forest. What about him? Are you going to ask if I can help you connect with him?"
"Not really. Not professionally at least. I think he's charming… he stopped by my store once"—of course, because you told him to give her stall a try—"and was so nice. He's so pretty, don't you agree?"
You pull your head back as you force a laugh so she can't see the way your eyes wrinkle with remorse.
"If I can get in contact with him, I'll let you know. I have to go first though." You gesture to your finished drink. "Thanks for the drink."
She stands with you and edges close with arms open. You lean to give her a hug. Before she can remember to ask for anything more, you're out of the bazaar.
THREE.
You truly are a person with no qualifications other than a disappointed mother and an award-winning smile. You put on masks and play pretend, trying to inflate your credentials so others will believe you are lovable. You can be loved. You will be loved.
But what if you're just a singular person who stares at sunset with a container of home made food while you let your thoughts powered by self-deprecating rot and doubt to run wild? Will you still be lovable then? It is a question that grips you even more than death itself.
You are a beggar at the mercy of those that pass by. Your hands empty and shivering. Love me, you cry. What I give is the feeling of superiority. The feeling that you're doing something good. In return I want you to love me.
Can you really say, then, that someone will love you for who you are? Would there not be this underlying feeling that they chose you out of pity?
You know people will be at your funeral, but will it be for you?
"So you were crying the day I met you," Kaveh says as he appears from behind. You have invited him to join your picnic, but he's late and your thoughts have grown to be a beast that demands your tears. "Sorry, that's not a good entrance. I didn't mean to be a busybody."
You wipe your wet eyes, uncaring of being discrete as you have been caught. Kaveh brought along more food. He unpacks them on your new plain mat.
"No, I'm thankful you didn't say anything that day," you note. "I don't think I wanted you to point it out. Would have ruined my mood even more."
Kaveh takes the spot you've prepared for him, leaning on his hand positioned behind to get a good view of the sky. He's still a stranger—in some sense—but a very welcoming one at that. There is something about the way he treats you that makes you feel you can trust him with your secrets. Not that you will share it with him. He's only come over for dinner the past month. Your friendship with him is developing faster than you'd like, but when he does things like randomly send you letters because something reminded him of the conversation over dinner or when he buys your favourite ice cream because it was on sale and he remembered you, it's hard not to grow fond of him.
In your area of business you should return such gestures, but he somehow makes himself indebted to you. You've never have the scale balanced when it comes to him. Perhaps inviting him into your private moment is your attempt at leveling what he skewed. Maybe this is part of his greater plan—he'll count these blessings as a means to an end, but for once, you aren't doing business. It never feels like it with him.
"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" he asks after a moment of silence. You shake your head. "Fair enough. Sitting down to watch the sunset is already easing my own stress."
"You really didn't have to do all of this, by the way," you motion at the food he bought and laid out. So much for trying to make things even. "I told you I was going to cook."
"But it's to celebrate!"
"Celebrate?"
"To us being friends. You've helped me so much and now you're inviting me to a picnic? Surely this means we're getting closer. Plus, look over there." He points to something in the distance. You move closer to him to see his line of view and notice bright colours poking from the canopy of the forest. "That's my project and we've finally started construction. Surely this is a moment to celebrate."
"I'm really happy for you."
You lean your head against his shoulder briefly, like a nudge. The smile on your face is small, but it's sincere.
FOUR.
Kaveh is acting strange. He is outside the door but he has yet to knock. He's mumbling things to himself and you feel tempted to open it just to scare him as a lesson to not talk to himself outside your door, but you've yet to clean the living room. He comes in like a storm and places his things everywhere. It's not that you mind though. It's just embarrassing to have him know you keep the house as he left it as evidence that you aren't alone.
Finally, his long-anticipated knock comes. You yell for him to wait as you finish the final touches and swiftly open the door. Tonight, you cooked The Endeavour in hopes to rival the one he made for you last week. It is an intricate piece of art disguised as the dish Fatteh. Only he can come up with something as extravagant as that, so you're not trying to beat him in presentation but taste.
You open the door, anticipation bursting in your eyes.
"You won't believe what I—"
"I love you and I—"
You blink, staring blanking at your favourite flowers covering your view. When you push it down to see Kaveh, his face is flushed. His eyes avoid you, and he seems to have regretted saying anything at all with the way he bites his lips.
"Did I ruin it?" he mumbles, free hand covering his face as the other pushes the bouquet into your arms, as if to say he wants you to carry the embarrassment away. "Was this bad timing?"
You gingerly take the bouquet and usher him in before he decides to run away.
"Let's… have dinner first."
You place the bouquet on the table in the living room as you bring out dinner.
"What was it you wanted to say?" Kaveh fidgets with his hands, voice strained with worry. "You sounded really excited."
"It's this," you say with less enthusiasm than you expected. "I loved what you brought me last week and I wanted to try making it too. It can't rival your presentation, but I hope it's edible."
"It's lovely." The compliment doesn't reach his eyes. Not that he doesn't believe what he's saying. They're just busy with other emotions as they intrusively search your expression. You try to keep it normal.
"Dig in," you chirp, pointing towards the dish that, when you think about it, is a poor rendition of what Kaveh gave you. "Let me know what you think."
He takes a bite and slowly the conversation buries his confession. You're back to laughing while he's rambling. The bouquet of flowers sits on the table without water—withering, if you may put it—while you and Kaveh's relationship continues to grow.
That night, you lay in bed wondering what his words mean.
What have you done?
SEVEN.
"The Palace of Alcazarzaray has been destroyed by the withering." News headline reads in bold. You stare at the paper, wondering why the name of the mansion rings a bell. You read on and you gasp when you see his name.
"…the architect, Kaveh…"
Your eyes dig into the words to extract every piece of information you can. Although he never told you the details of the project, it was undeniable how much passion and love he had for it. Talking about the project was always a gateway for him to share about his past, present, and even future. He told you of his time at the Akademiya, his parents, his dreams and aspirations. To have this project fail broke your heart knowing his has been broken.
Is that the reason he has been avoiding you? Was that the reason he arrived at your house multiple times looking worse than before? The reason he drank so much that night which you half-joked was because of the project really was the reason. Your kiss must have caused his mind to enter a flurry that pulled him under.
What have you done?
They say love does not make you think straight. Can you blame it on love or is this solely your selfish doing?
You don't wait for the answer as you scramble out of your door after grabbing your essentials. You have to find Kaveh, figure out how much he owns and how he's doing. You have to help him in one way or another if not who knows what will happen to him—
But you don't find him. He finds you instead. He's a few meters away from your door, approaching you with bloodshot eyes. You sigh, an act of relief but also concern, as you walk towards him.
"It's been long," you say after greeting him, unable to meet him in the eye. "I heard about the project. I want to help."
"No."
"What?" You raise your head and look at him, dumbfounded. "Why not? If you need money, I have some."
"I know you'll say that, but I cannot accept it."
"Why not? I don't want to see you"—you gesture towards all of him—"like this." For someone who tries to keep himself well kept, he is disheveled beyond recognition. Hair a mess, attire robbed to a plain t-shirt and pants that cover him decently. He looks pathetic, like a beggar, and who loves to see someone in such a state? Saviour complex or not, you know you can help him, and you will. "Come inside. Let's discuss it there. You look famished. I'll cook up something for you and—"
He calls your name. You still remember the first time he reached out to you on that busy street. How different your personal name was on his tongue compared to others. That friendliness has never left. In fact, it grew fonder over time. You should have noticed his feelings before he announced it, but maybe you were hoping it wasn't true. Now, he says your name dripping in tenderness and you want to scream.
Don't do this to me, you think as you drag him in your house regardless. I don't need you to remind me of your feelings. Of how I hurt you.
Once the door closes, as you're about to leave to prepare him a warm cup of coffee, he grabs your hand.
"I'm here to let you know I'm not accepting any help from you, and my feelings will remain."
"You're crazy. What are you going to—"
"You said that I only like you for your kindness, for the things you did. I'm here to let you know even if you don't show me an inch of kindness, I'll still love you."
"You shouldn't do that. That's stupid. That's illogical—"
"But it's your logic." He leans closer, almost putting his entire body weight on you. It is at this proximity you smell the faint scent of alcohol. "If I can't prove it to you with my logic then I'll have to use yours."
"You're not thinking straight. Look, Kaveh, remember the great girl who runs a coffee shop in the bazaar? She wants to meet you. She can make better coffee than me, is more beautiful and smarter. Her business is expected to skyrocket after marketing and maybe you can get your funds from her too. You'll find better, more amazing people. You shouldn't waste your time trying to prove to me that you like me. You don't even have to prove to yourself you like me."
Kaveh stays quiet. He stops moving too. You would think he is dead but you've handled a drunk Kaveh more often that you'd like to admit. Thankful he stopped his thrashing. You drag him onto the sofa and begin making preparations for when he wakes. Medicine, food, maybe some contract for him to be your roommate.
However, when he wakes, he is even more adamant on his stance, and more logical to argue for it too.
At least he drinks your coffee and eats the meal you prepared for him: a simple bowl of cream soup. He devours it almost in an instant, and you wonder how long he's not eaten. Given his new skinnier frame, you're betting at least a full day.
"I'll make seconds." You take his bowl and turn to head to the kitchen but he denies you once again by grabbing your arm. You hate how difficult it is to shake him away. You hate how a part of you is happy he wants you to stay.
"That's enough. I am not a baby. You of all people should know this."
"Yes, but in your current state? I wouldn't say so."
He releases his grip and you return to your seat. He sits upright on the sofa, a good distance away from the flowers he bought for you now kept in a small vase.
"I know you're worried about me," he starts as he rests his hands on his thigh and looks at the floor.
"Yes, it isn't a very nice situation to be in." And I probably made it worse.
"But I have a plan. The overseers of this project will not abandon it, and I sold my house but I met up with Alhaitham who I will live with in the mean time."
"See? You never know when you'll need to pull strings with people you dislike."
"I don't dislike him. At least, him as a person. Just his views of others."
You chuckle. "Same thing, isn't it? What is a person without their views? Their passions? Their aspirations? That's who they are."
"Their flaws as well." He looks at you, warm eyes intense like a burning flame. You shy away from his gaze. "Thank you for your help," he clears his throat, probably embarrassed he fell on you like that while drunk. It's not the first, and you hope it's not the last.
"Are you sure you don't want me to help?"
"It's fine. I will deal with it myself and I'll show you what I mean."
Another question sits on your tongue. Will you continue to ignore me and only come to me during your drunken stupors?
But he beats you to it.
"I know this is a silly question, but why do you want to help me so badly? If you believe I was lured by your kindness, then why continue being kind to me?"
"I don't deny I'm selfish," you start as you look at the floor, tucking your feet closer to your body. "I do kind things so people are tethered to me. I don't want you to leave."
You give him a side glance, expecting some sort of disgust or distaste, but instead he looks solemn yet shocked. It's better than being judged or disgusted.
"I'm sorry, Kaveh," you whisper. "I don't think I'll ever love you the way you want me to. I don't know how that works."
"Then that's even more reason to not accept your help. I won't give up."
Silence except the ticking clock in your room. This time it's unnerving, but not in a bad way. You are aware of your breathing—chest rising up and down—while your heart rate quickens as heat gathers at your face. When did he have such an effect on you?
"Visit me even if you're in a pitiful, sorry state. Even if it's unbearable to see you the way you are right now. And even after that, when you've got your bearings, I still want to have dinner with you."
"I will be back," Kaveh announces as he stands. He smiles, satisfied.
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author's note: as always thank you for making it until the end. this story came to me in a whirlwind of inspiration. whether you agree with reader's point of view or not, i do hope you come to realise that love, as tricky as it is, is also fairly simple because it is everywhere around us. it may not come in the form that we want but we shape the love we receive with our hands by changing ourselves. stay strong fellas (i am loosing my brain cells as we speak).
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too-much-gacha · 8 months
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Heya candy!! Hope you're doing well
Some asks for your OCs and MC!
For all of them:
General 04 What kind of magic do they possess? If they can't use any, do they have magic potential slumbering within them?
Concept & Design 08 Anything you heavily associate with them? A color, a word, a picture, or something else?
For Arachne:
Demon 08 Have they given anyone their grimoire?
For Agape:
Angel 08 Have they ever questioned Father? What for? Were they punished for it?
And finally, for your MC:
Human 06 Who do they trust more—angels or demons? Why?
I hope that's not too many, but if so, feel free to cut some asks!
hi melody! it's as well as it can be during exam period but ^_^
General 04 What kind of magic do they possess? If they can't use any, do they have magic potential slumbering within them?
so when it comes to MC(who is just named MC because my brain said fuck names I guess) I generally think they have magic like in game with a specific knack for potion making but I don't think this one counts as magic
arachne has something akin to charmin or hypnotising magic and she uses it mainly to collect information, she also finds it easy to comunicate with spiders and even has some trained ones to help her gather more intel
outside of very faint angel blessing agape can't at all tap into his magic potential. if she could he would be an extremely strong empath
Concept & Design 08 Anything you heavily associate with them? A color, a word, a picture, or something else?
I see MC as a personification of the defult sheep icon and the pastel purple/pink colour, always keep thinking how much sheep accesories/features can I add to their design before it starts looking off,
with arachne it's a bit silly because she's really connected with spiders and all that spider aesthetic (multiple pair of eyes and hands) but mainly because her design was slightly inspired by vriska from homestuck
capybara in a great way to summarise agape's personalitywise so that's my first association and when it comes to design it's the clouds during sunsets
Demon 08Have they given anyone their grimoire?
No, she did not, arachne doesn't want anyone having that much control over her due to some unpleasant past experiences
Angel 08 Have they ever questioned Father? What for? Were they punished for it?
she never did, at least not openly. after the celestial war agape would start questioning father but it quickly turned into questioning himself and whether his behaviour and attitude/approach towards living things was the right one
Human 06 Who do they trust more—angels or demons? Why?
this question is a good one, because they have no self-preservation instinct and they'd trust even a stranger. MC generally goes by the rule "everyone's trustworthy until proven otherwise" and for now only michael and nightbringer are out of the circle. so I suppose it's fifty-fifty for now
this was fun!!
thank you for sending an ask and generally for creating the whole ask game melody. you always have fun/cool ideas how to stir the fandom (in a positive way of course)
oc's and ask game
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ko-eko-ev-go-ms · 7 months
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It continues to trip me up how much human brains are just weird organic computers
#thoughts#oni talks#oni vents#additionally wild that the easiest ways for me to explain brain stuff are generally in computer or video game terms despite the fact I’m#notoriously awful with computers (and to a lesser extent video games) although I won’t if my natural inclination would be different if I#didn’t have trauma related to computers/if maybe it’s the classic adhd interest based learning difference? unknown tbh#I still really wanna go to school to study people but academics is fucked as hell so making that work will be a personal hell for me#but also I have so many theories and data I can’t do anything super tangible with coz I’m not in an academic setting so even if i wanted to#talk about stuff and work on it no one would take me seriously w/o that academic background no matter how much effort I’d put in learning it#on my own for my entire life at this point it won’t matter if it’s not on some level acknowledged by an academic system I despise tbh#it’s one of those things that makes me miss my dad coz we used to commiserate together about these sorts of things tho he made it work far#better than I have been able to. i wish i could ask him science questions again.#anyway human brains are so fascinating but also I really wish I was better at explaining myself analysis of people I feel like I’m good#enough at this point to be like partway understood coz I’ve done so much practice on my own coz I tend to rehearse explanations ahead of tim#but its still often misunderstood or misconstrued & it’s understandable a lot of the time coz like most other people aren’t spending a ton#of their free time thinking about and researching how people work/analyzing those around them+themselves vs me whose been doing since like#I dont remember the exact time but I do remember being really young & making the conscious decision to study & analyze my family for example#so that I could be helpful & translate their words to each other better + ppl often don’t see things about themselves that others do#also forever thinking about the human brain/experience in relation to the sims & video game commands lmao#currently trying to explain save states in the human brain to ppl but no one knows wtf I’m talking about#& researching academic terms that are close to what I want doesn’t necessarily work if there’s no academic term for what I’m talking about#hence wanting to do the research myself coz sometimes it feels like there’s all this stuff that’s obvious to me but no one else?? from what#I’ve seen in recent studies they are only starting to scratch the surface of stuff I’ve already known sometimes? other stuff is older & it’s#VERY gratifying when it’s stuff I’ve known but not been listened to about & it actually gets the proper recognition#though getting ppl to actually listen/take what I say seriously is its own journey & I have to be careful myself bc I’m human so my own#understanding/data is constantly updating + I have storage issues so finding the data I have in my brain is its own struggle sometimes#every version of me is interested in people & I think that’s neat even if other people don’t understand that concept#sometimes I feel like an alien/robot whose sole task is just to study & support humanity & it’s very weird tbh
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temikoangie · 2 years
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💫
💫: did you know that tenko + angie parallel eachother not just in their personalities but also in their deaths.
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angie's eyes being Not Visible bc she witnessed korekiyo's setup + tenko's mouth being Not Visible because he was silenced. Both Were Killed with a sharp weapon Into their Necks. Them Dying and Lying facing eachother . and in their own way, made a contribution to himiko's character arc ( even if tenko Was more talked about thn angie i think she also had a Big Part to himiko methinks. she meant alot to himiko and companied her when she felt like she was alone )
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hoshigray · 5 months
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𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫! | t. fushiguro + k. nanami
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Taking your daughter to a sleepover with her best buds is easy peasy; ending up staying over at said sleepover to have some fun of your own with the two single dads you're crushing on? Not so much...
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: dilfs! Toji + Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; single parents au - implied you + Nanami are in early 30s; Toji is in late 30s - Tsumiki (age 10), Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara (8) - mutual pining/crushing - fluff then SMUT then fluff - kissing/making out - mutual masturbation (m! + f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - Daddy kink - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spoon/sidesaddle dp + reverse cowgirl dp positions - clitoral play (swiping) - praise - breeding kink - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (angel, baby, good girl, love, mama, sweetheart, sweetie) - Nobara is your daughter; Yuuji is Nanami's - mention of drool/spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.8k (Christ almighty...)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask from one of my anons; so happy to be writing an actual fic after a month, yippeee!! and tysm for 7.7k, my loveliesss!!
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“Hahah, I win again!”
“No fair, I used the aerials like you taught me, what!?
“Yeah, but there’s no point using them if you’re just gonna let Itadori counter.”
“Shut up, Megumi! Hey, Yuuji, one more time!”
“Hey, keep it down, you three.” You warn the children who cause a ruckus in the living room from the dining table. 
There’s nothing wrong with hanging with friends or going to someone’s house to play. Children are highly encouraged to do so to form deeper relationships! It’s what you’d want for your child, your sweet daughter poking out of her public shyness now that she’s playing video games with two of her best friends at a playdate.
Your daughter, Nobara, heard your warning and swerved her head back to apologize. “Sorry, momma! Itadori’s just cheating!”
“No, I’m not!” The pink-haired boy sitting next to your brunette daughter on the living room floor retorts. “She just sucks at playing!”
“Why you…” The two kids glare and argue to themselves while another sits on the living room couch and sighs at the interaction before him. Megumi was his name, the raven-haired boy putting his attention back on the animal encyclopedia he was reading. 
You chuckle before speaking again, “Well, cheating or not, keep your voices down, okay? Tsumiki is trying to do her homework.”The kids nod and return to their fun on the television; the sounds of controller buttons mashing and clicking fill the absence of their voices, and you go back to what you were primarily doing. “Need any help there, Tsumiki?”
The fourth grader perks up from using her name, flashing a weary smile in your direction. “I’m trying to find these countries for my quiz on Monday, but where are Colombia and Guyana…?” The paper before the little girl exhibited a blank sheet with a map of the North and Southern American continents; a word bank is provided to the side with a list of countries. 
Getting up from your chair, you walk to the vacant side where Tsumiki is and sit alongside her. “Hmm, let’s look at this together…”
This wasn’t your home; it belonged to the father of Yuuji Itadori. Staying during your daughter’s playdates was a rarity, particularly in another parent’s house. Yet today is a Friday, and you didn’t really have much to do other than clean the apartment and maybe catch up on a show or two. Besides, it didn’t hurt to watch the kids play and laugh now and then.
Luckily, you aren’t the only parent here; two other parents are taking out of their day to monitor the kids with you! The only problem is that…they make your stay a bit difficult.
Footsteps are heard descending the hall from the bedrooms, and your eyes peer to find a man walking into the kitchen area. “How’s studying going?” Golden blonde hair was the first you see, followed by the pleasant look of his chocolate brown eyes. A slim-fit grey long-sleeved shirt hugs his frame well, accompanied by dark-fitted jeans and dress socks. Kento Nanami, Yuuji’s adoptive father, has entered the scene and has made your heart skip to an irregular tune.
Thankfully, saving you from making a fool, Tsumiki answers the man. “Good, Auntie Y/n is helping me remember countries of South America!” She says with a blinding smile. 
“Is that so?” Nanami opens a cupboard to pull out a glass to pour water. “You think you’ll be okay for the quiz?”
“Mmmm, if I remember five countries out of ten, I should be fine. I know more, thanks to Y/n!”
“Good,” your breath hitches when he walks to stand behind the chair you were sitting on. “And how are those three?” 
You cough before averting your gaze to the living room. “They’re fine,” you watch your daughter exclaim in glory after finally beating Yuuji in the video game. The salmon-haired child groans in defeat, standing up to switch with Megumi so the other can play. “Nobara loves playing with the boys; they make her competitive spirit wild. It’s funny because she’s usually quiet and soft-spoken around me and others. However, that doesn’t explain her track record with terrorizing the boys of the school…”
Nanami chortles at your observation, the sound almost hypnotizing you. “Children bring out a different side in each other, helps them grow.”
“Wise words—“  
Grrooorrr!
You both stop at the sound of a rumble, glancing at Tsumiki to see that it is her grumbling stomach. The child chews her quivering lip and hides her face by looking back at her homework. You giggle, “You hungry?” She nods slowly. “Me too, sweetie; the pizza should be here any minute.”
“That’s odd,” Nanami takes a sip from his glass. “He said the food would be done by the time he’s off work. It’s almost 7 o’clock, is there traffic on—“
KA-CHA! CLACK-CLINK!
“Yo, I’m here with the pizzas,” another voice, a lot lower and gruff than the blonde’s, enters the space. Your heart skips again, and you instinctively turn to find the source — you know who the source is. 
Giant steps draw near the kitchen area, keys rustle as he stuffs them inside his jeans pocket, and the other hand holds three pizza boxes. After putting the food on the kitchen island, the man scratches his onyx head and stretches. His loose-fit cotton sweatshirt slips for a peak of his abs to be seen, and your eyes pull back before they hook onto the tanned skin for too long. Green eyes capture yours, and a smirk uproots the scar on the right of his lips. “Hey, Y/n,” the way he says your name pulls you in. “Good thing I caught ya before you could leave.”
You gulp to wet a dry throat. “It’s good to see you, too, Toji.”
Toji Fushiguro, the father of Tsumiki and Megumi, strides from the island down to where you three are, ruffling his daughter’s brown hair as a greeting. “How’s homework goin’?”
She swats her father’s hand away, fixing her ponytail. “It’s okay, I’m just hungry now.”
On that note, you decided it was time for everyone to take a break and eat. “All right, kids, the pizza’s here; come over and eat!” Nobara wastes no time springing out of the couch and sprints for the dining chair next to Tsumiki after you stand to grab the paper plates. 
The boys don’t move, eyes glued to the screen and fingers moving across the controllers. Nanami tries to get their attention again, only for Yuuji to excuse themselves for a few minutes. The golden-haired father looks to the other before giving him a curt nod, a signal for Toji to walk to where the boys were sitting and turn off the television. They groan in unison before the black-haired man picks them up effortlessly and waltzs back to the dining table. “Time to eat, squirts.”
You have known Nanami for a long time, meeting him around when Nobara was still aged by months and could barely walk. Being a first-time parent is no easy task, especially since the man took Yuuji as his own after the death of the baby’s parents and grandfather when he was just a newborn. The transition from sober salaryman to committed fatherhood wasn’t an gradual one. But you know what they say: it takes a village, no matter how big or small. You found Nanami at the perfect time while you took care of Nobara, lending a helping hand to the single guardian whenever he needed advice or help looking after the pink-haired babe. He’d return the favor, of course, having you two spending and getting to know more about each other throughout the years. So, as the babies grew and became friends, so did you and him. 
Toji entered your life around the same time as well; a single father of two was just as [if not more] challenging as your scenario. Not to mention – the poor man had to work ungodly hours, sometimes calling up a friend to look after his kids. You felt for him, even Nanami, so you’d help him out as well whenever he needed it, whether it be picking up Tsumiki and dropping her off at daycare or rocking three-month-old Megumi to sleep and waiting for the father to return home safely deep in the night.
Without the hood of parenthood, you three wouldn’t have become such good friends. Although there have been rough moments, at least you had the two to share and relate with if necessary. You’re so thankful for both fathers being in your life, serving as dependable outlets as you three grow along with your children. And it’s an even bigger blessing watching the kids have become great friends — practically inseparable! Words cannot express the gratitude for Nanami and Toji, treasuring the men so much that you’d love to maintain this mutual relationship with them as long as possible.
Being friends is more than enough; however, a tiny piece of yourself wishes something more to come out of this friendship. Admitting that to yourself is enough to have your ears heat up in shame. Crushing on the two fathers like some school girl, how embarrassing…
But can you blame yourself? As you all sit down and eat around the dinner table, you find it hard to restrict your eyes from wandering to either side of the table where the men sit. 
Don’t get it twisted; you’ve always thought of the dads to be attractive men. However, the more time you’ve spent visiting and getting to know them, you’ve found that they’ve become more and more charming as the years go by. Now, it has gotten a lot worse.
Nanami is so entrancing to the eye — damn near looks as if he walked out of a movie set. His mocha eyes were so soft and perfect with his mellow tone. The charismatic blonde easily played with your heart with how attentive he was, making sure if you and Nobara ever needed anything or ever wanted someone to voice with. God, he was too good to be true, it was hard not to fall in love with him — you were honestly mesmerized the moment he first said your name. Now, solely seeing him is enough to make your ears hot and your heart race. Your admiration for him threatens to dwell into that of a childish crush — how mortifying! 
And Toji — fuck, that man. Aside from having a body literally sculpted like an Olympic athlete, the dark-haired man was somebody who knew how to wind you down. Maybe it was the baritone voice that always captured your attention or the mischievous jokes and flirts he’d throw your way; whatever it was, Toji knew how to draw you in. Sure, you were a little intimidated by him at the start, but that’s long been substituted with feelings of trust and mutual respect from seeing how much of a good father he tries to be for his children. Although, the more you hear his gruff laugh, see his smile pull the scar, or forest green eyes drilling holes into your very being, the more you want to slap yourself for thinking about him day by day!
Goddamn it! As you sit at this table chewing on your pizza slice with the others, all you can think about is how pathetic you must be for falling for the two heartthrobs of your life. It’s appalling how these two fathers have yet to snatch up somebody, knowing there would be lines of people wanting a piece of them. And you sigh heavily, thinking if there’s ever a possibility you’d be lucky enough to be on the receiving end with either.
Probably not…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Annnnd BAM! UNO!”
“What?? You’re cheating!”
“Am not! You can put draw twos on plus fours!”
“Hah!? That’s not in the rules!”
“So? That’s how my mom plays.”
Why am I being brought into this… You shake your head as you observe the kids play their final card game before bed. All the children are dressed in their respective pajamas, sitting in a circle around couch pillows as they draw and place cards down. The sunset has long been set as the hour hand touches the eleventh number; the kids usually go to bed at eight or nine. But it’s the weekend and meant to be a sleepover, so one or two more hours of fun shouldn’t hurt anyone.
“UNO Out!!” Except for the heavy groans shared with Megumi and Yuuji as Nobara finishes the card game with an enthusiastic slam, turning around to give the older brunette a high five. “See, Tsumiki? I told you I can handle it!”
“Man, that’s not fair,” Yuuji throws his card pile to the floor in exasperation. “Wish I knew about that rule beforehand.”
Megumi does the same, “You should’ve made the rules clear before we played the game.”
“Wahh, keep complaining, loser,” Your daughter annoys the boy with a blown raspberry. “Fine, we can try again; if I win, I’ll have Yuuji's bed to myself and Tsumiki.”
“Not happening!” You and the salmon-haired child deny the winner’s request, and the girl only snickers mischievously while Tsumiki deals the cards. 
Saved by the sound of footsteps approaching from the hall, Nanami is now here to dismiss the bunch. “All right, kids, time for bed.” Every one of them mourned at the statement; Yuuji quickly requested five more minutes, only to be shut down by his father. “Nope. I’m done with my shower, so you four must get to bed — that was the deal.”
“Aww man…” The four begrudgingly get up from the living room floor after putting the cards away and setting the pillows back on the couches. Before they leave, they wish you a good night. “Goodnight, Mom!” Nobara comes rushing to you for you to kiss her cheek.
“Goodnight, sweetpea,” you let go of her so she could run back. “And you three — where are my kisses?” Yuuji and Tsumiki happily come for you to place a goodnight kiss on their cheek. All that’s left is the silent child of the bunch who, unfortunately, doesn’t slip past your eyes. “That means you too, Megumi. Or else I’ll chase you down and kiss you up a storm like last time, you hear?”
The black-haired one fights a smile creeping his face, slowly taking steps to where you sat and fidgets as you kiss his cheek. You wish the boy goodnight, and he follows the others down the hall to the bedroom after doing the same. 
“Fushiguro’s in the shower now.” Now that the children are gone, Nanami sits on the left side of the couch before dimming the ceiling lights. He turns on the television, “Seems like they’re having fun.”
“Mmm, they are,” you settle by the middle to be close to him. “I can’t believe they’re all so big now. Didn’t Yuuji just turn eight years old last month?”
“Mhmm, he’s now the same age as Nobara and Megumi,” he says with a smile. “For a little while, that is. He is the youngest, after all.”
“You’re right, poor thing.” You giggle with a stretch. “Nobara’s gonna be nine this August, and Megumi at the end of the year…”
“Hmm. We are old.”
That made you laugh hysterically as the delivery of the comment sounded so defeated yet true. It’s okay, though, since Nanami was laughing himself with a shaken head. “Don’t say it like that! They say you get sexier during your thirties.”
“Are you sure about that? My grandfather had photos from his thirties, and he was balding and getting chunkier before turning thirty-five.” More laughter seeps through your lips. “I don’t know, Y/n; not all of us can keep fit like Fushiguro; he still works out while halfway approaching forty.”
“Now, hold on, Nanamin,” you grin while pointing to Nanami, and you can see him try to fight a smile after using the nickname he supposedly doesn’t like. “You can’t say shit, either; you still look like a model coming straight out of a Men’s Vogue magazine!” That made him laugh more, the sound warming your heart. "You still got it, Kento; a real prince charming."
“Why thank you, Y/n,” he appreciates the compliment.
“Of course.” 
The silence following that felt unsettling and had you fidgeting with the bottom of your halter top. Five uncomfortable minutes of nothing but the lowered volume of the television to fill the space. Come on, Y/n, keep the conversation going. “So, almost ten years, huh? A whole decade.” You watch Nanami nod along through your peripheral. “I remember the first time I met you; you looked like you barely got any sleep for the past month.”
“Because I didn’t. I was hassling with back-to-back meetings, on the cusp of finding another job to take outside of being a salaryman, and then had little newborn Yuuji to come home and put to sleep after feeding. Thank God you could babysit for him with Nobara; I’m forever grateful.”
“Oh God, I remember when you came home so tired while I was rocking both to sleep. I think that was the first and only time I’ve ever seen you fall asleep on the couch; so tired you forgot to greet me!” 
“We don’t talk about that,” he scratches his ear. “That wasn’t so bad when we promised to watch over Megumi and Tsumiki during the weekend while Fushiguro went to take up so many jobs. He fell to his knees once he passed the threshold, and I had to walk him to his bed.” 
You tittered at the recollection — all the memories mentioned made you feel warm and glad, all the years coming back to you with a happy memory. “We’ve done good, though. We managed, and the kids are growing to be good friends.”
“Before you know it, maybe Nobara will come to you about liking the boys—“
“That isn’t happening; I asked her the question like three weeks ago, and she said if she and the boys were the last people on Earth, she’d kill herself.” Nanami gasped and stifled a laugh, but you could see his shoulders bounce. “A third grader — an eight-year-old – telling me she’d off herself rather than be with one of the boys. Talk about radical...At least she loves to hang with them; she loves those boys like they’re her little brothers.” 
The blonde hums to your words. “Them being close is a blessing. I guess that’s thanks to us, having each other’s backs all these years.” 
It’s your turn to nod to him. “True, and I’m just glad they like being with each other.”
“Same here; Yuuji likes being with you guys,” he throws his head back. “…Just like I do.”
You blink. “What do you mean?” Suddenly, you feel as though you shouldn’t have asked that question because the way Nanami turns his head to look at you nearly paralyzes you. Oh my God…
“I like being with you.” He says it tenderly, only for your ears to pick up. “You make me feel at peace when you’re around, and I’m not as close to anyone as I am with you. A decade of you being in my life has made it more serene and…fun. So, I like it when you’re with me.”
You didn’t breathe a single puff of air during his speech. The worst part was that these were Nanami’s words — they were genuine. You could feel it in his bronze gaze, your heart unable to control itself. 
And it doesn’t help that your eyes took in every detail of him; his hair, usually neat and styled, is now down and damp from the shower, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His home wear comprised a loose sweatshirt and dark grey sweats, but you snuck a glance of his collarbone that peaks from the opening collar of his shirt. You move your gaze to the floor to stop yourself from looking any further, or else more fuel for indecent fantasies will be stored for later!
Fingers fiddle with each other as you chew on your lip. God, Y/n, just fucking say it! “I, uhh…I like being with you, too, Nanami.”
“Do you really have to go?” He scoots in. “You know I don’t mind you staying over.”
“I—ahem—I think, yeah…I wouldn’t want to intrude on you and Toji; I’m sure you two would wanna catch up on stuff. I’ll just come back and pick Nobara up in the morning before—”
You stop uttering more once you feel a sudden hand on your right shoulder. Turning to your left, you didn’t even realize Nanami scooting to be so close to you, his face a hand’s length away from yours. Once again, you have forgotten how to breathe. And when he places his left hand on your right that lies on your lap? You don’t move a centimeter.
“I want you to stay,” his tone low and sincere. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I like you being around me. I…” He brings your hand to his lips, and a soft kiss makes you gasp faintly. “I love it, actually.”
You gulped. There’s no way this is happening right now. There’s just no way! “Kento—“
“I mean it.” He kisses your knuckles again, his eyes locked in with yours. He chuckles, “You were right.”
“About…what?”
“As you grew older, you have changed quite a lot. You’re…Well, no, you’ve always been pretty. But, all these years, you’ve become a lot more beautiful,” he draws his face in closer. “Breathtaking,” you instinctively close your eyes when his nose brushes yours. “Sexier.”
Nanami’s lips land on yours on the final word, and you don’t move a muscle when he does so. They felt soft against yours, perfect for the mellow kiss. It doesn’t last long, only a few seconds. Yet you quivered as he withdrew, placing his forehead against yours as his hand weaved with your fingers. 
“Ken…” Fuck, this is too much. The hand on your shoulder exhibits no interest in getting off. “I can’t, I have to—“ he shushes you with another kiss. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” What the fuck!? Did he just use a pet name on you? “You know I can take care of you, right? Even for one night,” you tremble when he licks your bottom lip. “Stay for tonight, okay?”
“Kento..” He pauses when you hesitantly remove your right hand from his grasp, thinking you’d push him off. But then you bring both hands to cup his sunken cheeks, caressing him with your thumbs. “…More.”
He doesn’t wait a second, accepting your request and bringing his back on yours. Small pecks to the lips gradually become more arousing and tilted heads to achieve a better angle for entry. You moan to his mouth, and so does he. Tongues slowly become adventurous, twirling with each other and exploring the other’s mouth. It feels so good; you lean into Nanami’s hold with every kiss. And he happily accepts you as he gives you more. 
Jesus Christ, something straight out of a dream. And if it was, you only hope to indulge in it for a little longer. More, more—
“What do we have here?”
However, you can’t indulge if another person comes into the frey unsuspectedly. 
Two bodies retreat from each other, sitting awkwardly on the couch appropriately as Toji walks into the living room. Your lips shook with anxiousness, stealing a glimpse of Toji’s smirk as he walked to your right. You sneak a glance at Nanami, seeing the shade of pink rise on his skin lightly, and you cover your face to shield yourself. Fucking fuck, this is embarrassing!
“Don’t act all shy on me now, you two.” Toji’s weight dents the right side of the couch, extending his arm to be behind you. “Don’t be scared, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Did you check the kids?” Nanami fakes a cough.
“Out like a light,” he answers, creeping his hand from behind onto your shoulder. You shudder at his calloused touch and gruff laugh. “What’s goin’ on, Y/n?” You meekly turned to look at him. Same with Nanami, Toji’s dark hair was damp from the shower, substituting his day outfit with a blank tank top and grey sweatpants. It took everything in your power not to peek at his pecs or exposed biceps. 
You avert your eyes from his. “Nothing…” You saw his chest jerk from a scoff. 
“Wow, you two are really gonna act like some kids, huh.” His snark remark has you both flattening your lips in shame. “Act all quiet when somethin’ happened.”
He prompted you to question. “How much…did you see?”
“I saw the kiss — you looked like you were enjoyin’ it.” He purposely said that to make your cheeks hot, the brazen bastard. “But I heard Kent here say he means it when he likes havin’ ya ‘round.”
Nanami speaks up while scratching his brow. “Y/n was, uhh, just about to leave.”
Toji lifts a brow. “Leave? When the night is still young?” He subtly shakes you. “Why so soon, hmm? It’s the weekend; I just got outta the shower an’ hoped you’d be here a lil' while.” He spoke to you slowly. It was a dangerous approach with that husky voice. He squeezes your shoulder when you’re not answering. 
“I just….You and Nanami probably have some ‘guy stuff’ you wanna catch up on, and I don’t want to come in between that, you know?” It’s here you muster the courage to look at the raven-haired man. Big mistake; now he has your attention where he wants it.
“So considerate, huh,” his free hand comes to your cheek, and you’re frozen as he plays with the flesh of it. “I think you should stay, Y/n. What kind of friends would we be if we let you drive out late." 
It’s hard to remind your body to breathe when Toji is surveying you intimately. What the fuck—why is this happening all of a sudden!?? “You–Toji, it’s okay, I’ll—“
“Besides,” he teases you by rubbing your earlobe with his thumb and forefinger. “I like you bein’ here, too.” You’re too distracted from him bringing his face to your neck to kiss, evoking an unstable gasp. “Lookin’ all pretty fr’ me…”
“Toji…—Ahh!” You didn’t notice him slide his hands down to the chest area of your halter top, his large palms groping your breasts affectionately. His kneads are rough yet pleasing, having you whimpering for him. “Don’t touch so…Hahhh…”
“Bad girl,” he chuckles to your ear after placing a kiss on your cheek. “Over here lettin' Kent touch you and think you can leave without me havin’ you for a bit, especially when you were eyein' us up earlier today...” He kisses your lips to take in your silent squeaks from fondling your chest, and you mewl for him. “Daddy wants you, too, baby…Heh, so does Kent.”
You peer to your left to see the mentioned man, and you’re taken aback to see him close to your side again. Holy shit. You literally questioned about this earlier, wondering if you’d ever be on the receiving side of these two. You did NOT expect this answer to come out of the blue within a few hours! And now that it’s here, how could you leave now?! This is what you wanted. And – to your surprise – so did they. 
You swallow spit and lift your left leg to the couch. And Nanami notices the initiative, coming between your legs to kiss your lips again. Your back pressed against Toji’s chest, you’re caged between the two men who seek to pleasure you in this proximity. You moan to Nanami sucking on your tongue, coinciding with the satisfying kneads of your breasts. 
Suddenly, Nanami breaks the kiss with a groan, and Toji chortles close to your ear. Curious, your eyes venture down to find that Toji’s hand grasps the tent of the blonde’s sweatpants. “Enjoyin’ y’rself, huh, Kent?” Toji strokes his hand on the boner, evident through the clothes.
“Toji, st—Hnnn…!” You watch this, eyeing Nanami’s composure slip away as his cock is being touched. The older man willingly massages his friend’s dick, and you observe how he effortlessly makes the sand-headed man hornier with his hand alone. It makes you feel hot, sensing a throbbing sensation in between your thighs. So, you silently bring a hand to sneak inside the hem of your wide-leg jeans. 
But you don’t go unnoticed because Toji kisses your cheek. “Like what ya see, sweetie?” He rests his chin on your shoulder. “Want me to take care of you? Here,” he then takes your hand to swap with his, your fingers feeling the rough skin of Nanami’s cock as you hold it. “Make him feel good, ‘kay?” 
You couldn’t believe it — Nanami’s hot, living cock was in your grasp. And as you have begun to stroke him, the noises he made turned you on even more. His veins are felt in your very palm, and precum exuding from his urethra lubricates the pretty fingers around his length. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel to have him ease the aching pulses between your legs, how good it would feel to have his girth massage your insides.
But your crude thoughts are interrupted by Toji’s left hand skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, slithering inside your panties, and meeting your wet cunt with his fingers. You jolt, but he’s right there to coo, “Relax, mama,” his free hand squeezes your chin to turn and face him. “Daddy’s gotcha…So fuckin’ beautiful,” Toji slams his lips into you for a steamier kiss, and you lose yourself.
Your hand on Nanami goes faster, eliciting extra precum to escape and stain the material of his sweats. Nanami leans forward to lick and suck the skin of your neck, forcing you to break the kiss with Toji to wail inaudibly while his fingers brush up on your soaked folds with unforgiving speed. Not to mention his bulge grinding against your back…
“Ahhnn, wait, guyss, we can’t—Mmmm…!” Toji kisses you again, grinning at your expression as he sucks and nibbles on your tongue. “We can’t do this…Not here…”
“Why?“ Nanami blows on your ear. “What’s wrong, love?”
CREEAAKK!!
That’s what’s wrong!
Like a flipped switch, all three adults unscrew themselves away from each other and sit back into their original positions. Nanami immediately pulls his pants back up, using a couch pillow to hide the situation that shouldn’t be present as he’s sitting in the living room. Toji follows suit, leaning on the couch arm. 
Sounds of tiny footsteps draw near, and they belong to none other than your daughter, who sleepily rubs her eyes coming into the space. You are the first thing she sees, “Momma? You’re still here?” 
“Mhmm,” you hoped you didn’t sound too off. “I’m just watching a movie with Uncle Toji and Kento. What are you doing up?”
“I thought I heard your voice,” Nobara walks to you and puts her head on your shoulder, and you voluntarily pick her up to have her sit on your lap. You smile; even though she’s growing day by day, she’s still your baby at heart. “Didn’t you say you’d leave after I go to bed?”
“Yeah, I was supposed to,” the two men sitting on either side of the couch say nothing. “And I can’t go now, seeing you’re still up.”
Nobara nuzzles into your neck. “Does that mean you’ll spend the night, too?” 
“Mmm, I wish I could, sweetpea,” you kiss her forehead. “But I didn’t bring any change of clothes or pajamas. I don’t even have my toothbrush – I’d be walking around with stinky breath.” You hear the girl giggle at your words.
What you just said gave the two fathers an idea, the men giving each other a look before saying anything. “I have some unused travel-size toothbrushes and toothpaste I’ve kept from business trips.” Nanami inquires; you put your foot in your mouth on that one.
Toji adds, “You can use the sweatshirt I wore today as PJs. I don’t mind.”  
Of course, you don’t.  Shaking your head, you knew what the two were insinuating. The adult language is too nuanced for your daughter to pick up on. It’s not like you’ve never slept over Nanami’s place before; you’ve done it dozens of times — even Toji’s! However, this time was different; you three have crossed a line you didn’t think was possible. What happened minutes ago was a mere taste of what could happen if you three decided to change this relationship into something more intimate. And now, after revealing the curiosity, the men were all in to see it through.
…And yet, you can’t say you don’t feel the same either. Are you kidding? You have goosebumps just thinking back on how close you three were, how their hands and lips felt on your skin, and their attention placed on nothing – on no one else – but you. It made your heart beat uncontrollably, knowing that your decade-long crush on them was being favored in more ways than one — like a dream come true!
“Mom?” Snapping back to reality, you peer to Nobara, who awaits your answer. With a smile, you boop her nose with a finger.
“Only if you go back to sleep, sweetpea.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The hour hand had finally met the twelfth number, the midnight hour designating the quiet neighborhood into a calm slumber. Light posts automatically turn on to display the sidewalk, yet the darkness of the night serves as a blanket to cover the silent homes. 
Nanami’s home was simple — a one-floor house perfect for the blonde man and his son. Aside from the living room and kitchen, it had a hall that harbored the bedrooms, Yuuji’s guest bathroom, and closet. The children were all resting in Yuuji’s room, the first door to the left you’d meet when entering the hallway. Other than the master bedroom, there was no other room besides the living room couch for you to sleep in. 
Being by yourself is something Nanami wouldn’t want, and Toji would’ve primarily taken the couch since you had no plans of staying. But since that’s been changed, the two men took this opportunity to enjoy their sleepover with your company, using the master bedroom at the end of the hall to further themselves from the ears of the snoring kids. Tonight, you’d finally have your answer by being spoiled by your crushes all night.
“Dahhh, Toji, yer tongue…fingers…Ohhh!”
“Fuck, Y/n, you look so gorgeous…Here, kiss me, angel.”
“Mmmm, fuckin’ shit, y’ taste so good…Waited so long fr' this..."
You were practically stuck with them the moment they locked the door. After borrowing Nanami’s shower, your nude body was met with hungry hands and hot kisses, drowning your senses with their overwhelming presence. Three naked bodies lie on the bed, you with your back to the sheets and legs spread. To your right was Nanami, making out with you lovingly while a hand cups and massages a breast. Toji had his face nestled between your thighs, his tongue licking around your labia and fucking your vagina, inspiring you to cry for the blonde next to you. The older man also pleases you by fingering your asshole with lube, conditioning it for future use.
You melt into Nanami’s kiss, and soft tweaks on your nipple make you mewl into his lips more. But you withdraw to scream, “Ahhaaa! Kentoo, touch me more…”
“Hmm? What, baby?” He presses his lips to your cheek, kissing your chin to the outlet between your neck and shoulders. “You like it when I play with your chest?” A low snicker humors him from watching you nod, and he brings his mouth to your nipple to suck on. 
You grip the sheets, “Ohhh, hooo…! Tojiii, y’re gonna make me c—Uuuhh!”
He separates his mouth from your soapy folds, and your liquids stick to his chin. What an obscene sight with the grin he has on his face. “Yeah? Ya wanna cum on my mouth, mama?” Unlike Nanami, Toji doesn’t take a nod; he’s a bit of an asshat, so he licks your clitoris to tease. “Use them words, baby; wanna hear you say it fr’ me.”
“Y–Yesss, yes, I do,” a hushed howl after Toji sucks on your pearl and the other rubbing on your nipple to the roof of his mouth. “Pleaseee, I wanna cum…!”
“Heh, well, don’t go cummin’ on me just yet,” he kisses your slit before straightening up and pats your inner thigh. “All ready fr’ ya, Kent.”
Nanami then releases your nipple with a ‘pop’ and maneuvers to lay on his side. “Come here,” he asks,  resting your head on his arm and lifting your leg. You hum at the contact of his glans meeting your cunt, “So wet for me, huh?” He pushes his cock to the entrance, and you gasp at the tip inserted into your vagina. “Relax, angel,” he coos to you with a kiss on your nose, gauging your reaction as he slowly snugs your vagina with every inch of his cock. 
Your mouth goes agape at the stretch of you taking him in; the feeling of his cock feels too good and surreal. And the brush of his dick on your sweet spots has you squeak, same with him poking on your cervix. He throws in a few thrusts to start, but you didn’t expect that. No, fuck! He rubs on your walls at a precise angle, prompting your orgasm to come a bit too quickly to comprehend. So, you have to bite your lip to keep your scream hushed, letting the flutter of your cunt speak for you. 
And Nanami notices it, hissing at the contraction. “—Hnnm! Shit…Did you cum, sweetheart?”
“Oh, did they?” And here comes Toji, straddling both the bodies below him. He leans into your face, licking your ear. “Felt that good, huh, baby? We haven’t even started.” He kisses your forehead before uncurling back up and aligning his dick to your lubed anus. Then, he pushes the tip to be swallowed by your puckered hole, and you mumble small prayers as his fat length is pushed inside. “Shit, this tight ass…”
The older man begins to move into you, his shaft churning the inside of your ass. Nanami does the same, his cock scraping your insides synched with Toji’s rhythm. The movement has you immediately making noise beyond your control, wails bouncing around the space between you and the men. 
It isn’t long before the two find a groove; Toji pistons his cock with every pull of Nanami’s, and sounds of skin slapping lasciviously against each other are picked up by your ears. How could you not tighten more around the limbs inside you, especially when they scrape on against your tender wails so accurately? Especially after coming, your nerves have not yet recovered from the wave earlier. 
“Ohh! Hoooh fuuuck,” your back arches a bit, helping the sand-haired man to find a better angle to scratch the upper wall of your vagina. Your vision is screwed shut, making it easier to indulge in the sensation of their cocks ravaging your insides. 
Toji sees you from up top, his eyes traveling down to your ass and whistling at the sight of you taking his and the other’s dick. “Damn, ya feel so good, Y/n. Ass so tight, act like ya don’t wanna let go.”
God, why’d he have to say it like that? Your face was hot enough; did he want to make you melt on this bed? And Nanami doesn’t make it any better. “Heheh, they twitched,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, felt it, too…What’s goin’ on, sweetie?” Toji pulls his cock until his cockhead is on the verge of coming out, and he slams it back down to have you moan aloud. “Ya like bein’ fucked like this? Takin’ Daddy’s cock like a good girl…?”
“They’re gripping me again.”
“Ken, stoop!!” The fair-headed man laughs at your protest, your resilience still present even if it’s wiped away in seconds when Toji quickens his pace. “Nnhhh…! N-Not too fast, I’m sensit’veee—Ahhh!” 
“You say that, but your body says otherwise, love,” Kento brings a hand to your hip to massage. “—Nnnn! Jesus…wanna cum so bad…”
Oh, fuck, imagine: being filled to the brim by Nanami’s come? Being stuffed by both of them? It turned you on so bad. “—OhhhGod, please, cum inside me!”
Gold eyebrows furrow. “I can’t, baby; don’t got a condom on—“
“It’s okay, I want it…!” The thought of getting pregnant again should be the very last thing that should pop into your mind right now. And yet, being knocked up by these two has you craving Nanami’s release even more. “Pleaseeplease, I want you to fill me up…! Don’t hold back for me, Ken.” You can tell he’s still on the fence about it. But with a kiss on his nose and a soft hand on his cheek, you convince him otherwise.
“Wanna be the mother of my child so bad, huh?” He says with a chortle, “So beautiful…” Before he snaps his hips into you, Nanami brings you in for one more kiss and wraps his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. He ruts into you with purpose, making sure he’s balls-deep with every push and reaching the deepest he can. You howl at the brush of your cervix again, allowing him to use you to chase his climax.
“Oh? You got him going, now,” Toji comments from above with a smirk, still maintaining the pace with Nanami despite the younger male going erratic. Your screams go higher and higher, so you bring in a hand to cover up the noise. This was not the time to test how thick the bedroom walls were, despite the kids sleeping a closet and office away. 
Nanami groans into your lips; his length relentlessly rubs your silky texture. And when his orgasm does reach him, he grinds his pelvis, stirring his length so deep that you can’t help but writhe with him. You can feel his penis pulsate with every pump of his load inside you, satisfying your excitement as your hand massages his skull. He keeps you like this until his body has calmed down, sluggishly removing his pillowy lips from yours with a sigh. 
Chocolate brown orbs are fixated on yours, the hand on your hip coming up to wipe spit from your face. “God, you drive me crazy. Making me cum inside, one child’s not enough?”
You titter, “Well, wouldn’t hurt to have another, you think?…Mmmm,” you almost forget about Toji. The raven-haired man removes himself from your ass, his shaft still standing.
“Don’t forget ‘bout me, now,” he reminds you two of his presence, getting his frame off you both so you can move around. 
You stand with your knees between Nanami’s legs while he sits upright. “Come here,” he places his hands on your hips and leads you back onto his cock. This time, he’s the one entering your asshole, and you both moan at the union of your sexes. Once your ass meets the base of his pelvis, his arms wrap around your waist and carefully bring you down with him. Your back to his chest, his lips to your ear. “So tight and warm…Hmmm.”
This position is new to you – in fact, this was all new! You can’t remember the last time you had your body this close and intimate with another figure. It’s been so long – damn near bizarre - especially when your heat is transferring with the gold-haired man behind you. The aroused hums to your ears have you throb involuntarily; you could melt into his arms right about now.
That thought goes out the window when Toji’s weight has you looking in front of you, and your brain nearly shuts down at the sight of the older man coming in between your legs to lift them, his emerald eyes locked on yours. Jesus, fuck! You had to turn away – it was all too much! 
“Ah ahh, don’t go turnin’ ‘way from me,” he gives your legs for Nanami to hold from the back of your knees, and then he cups your cheeks and moves your face back to him. “Waited almost ten years to have you like this, so I wanna see all of you, mama.” Just when your face couldn’t get any more unreasonably hot, this handsome bastard just had to say that while fondling your chest! And it doesn’t help the other charming face is placing kisses on your neck. 
Toji uses this position to spread your folds; he can’t suppress the ardent smirk lifting his scar. “Kent did his thing on you, and ya still want more, huh?” You press your lips together when he slaps his glans on your leaky chasm. “Watch...” Your eyes follow down to the tip of his dick, vulgarly using the come seeping out of you as lube. You gasp sharply at the insertion, “Breathe fr’ me, baby,” he coaxes you through every inch of him, burrowing inside your inner channel that you almost forget to blink from the display. The girth of him has you wail beneath him, and you cry at the poke of your cervix again! Christ, you don’t know how long you can do this. 
“—Hnngh…! Fuck, good girl,” the dark-haired one praises, grinding his pelvis down to churn more friction inside you. “So good fr’ Daddy...”
Slow ruts to your chasm begin the second round, three bodies rocking within a mutual cadence. You throw your head back with shut eyelids concentrating on the two dicks that push to and fro from your holes and scrape your walls. And a choked scream leaves your frame at the jab of your cervix again. 
“Ohhhshiit,” eyebrows furrow with a chewed lip, and the two men begin to quicken the pace. “HooohGod! F’eel so good…Ahahhn!”
Toji puts his hands on the headboard as leverage, using his hips and the flex of his abdomen to take control. Fuck, seeing his nude physique so up close was too marvelous; it couldn’t be true — it shouldn’t be! 
And Nanami is no better while whispering to your ear. “Feeling good, Y/n?” He teases your lobe with a lick, “Gripping on us like crazy as if you’ve been waiting for this, hmm?” You try to protest, but all that comes out are sobs when he jerks his hips unexpectedly. He chuckles, “So cute…Hmm? Heh, you are feeling good, huh, love.”
Can you believe it? Being fucked by these two attractive men, and you’re fingering your clit in the midst of it all? Embarrassment rings your ears as your fingers swipe and grind around the neglected pearl. Toji and Nanami share a look for a split second, and then Nanami switches his hands with the other. Instead, an arm snakes around your waist to keep you on him, and the other silently moves yours aside to play with your clit. 
That only has you crying even harder. Pinches to your clit and kisses to your leg accompany the increased speed of their thrusts. Tears well up at every jolt of your body from the frequent jabs to your vaginal walls, scraping your G-spot so precisely. And the length in your butt keeps feeling so fucking good! Grazing your velvet texture that you can’t think straight.
“—Gaahhh! Mmmph!” Your hand finds Nanami’s wrist to hold on to as his middle and ring fingers swipe on your clitoris. You scream his name when he pitches it softly, “Kent—Ohhh! Shhtop, ish too much!!”
“Yeah, too much?” He toys with it gently. “But I don’t hear you telling me to stop…”
The two of them go at a sporadic pace, skin slapping onto yours harshly in sync. They nearly take your breath away, thanking God they have a hold on you before the momentum steers you away. “Hahah, ohhh, ohmyGod, guys,” Toji bends down to add more of his weight, making you howl from the angle of his fat cock. “I cannn’t; again, I’m about to cuuhmm agaiinn!!!”
“Really? You wanna cum, baby? Mmph! Fuck, this pussy…” He groans. “Gonna be a good girl and let Daddy finish here, yeah?” You nod, and Nanami pinches your clit again on Toji’s behalf. “Words, sweetie, words.”
“Yesss, Daddyyy!” 
“Gonna lay there and look cute while I knock ya up, right?” Again, the thought of having another baby should not have you excited. But again, there’s no way your head could be right during all of this. “Hmm? Want Daddy to give ya a baby?”
“Mmmm! Please, Daddyyy, fill me up…!” You were spouting out nonsense, but who cares? “Make me a mama again…Ohhh!”
And he does just that, pounding his shaft at you so harshly that it rocks your entire body, especially with how he brings your legs up to your chest to have your slit fully exposed for him. “Holy shit,” he bites his lip as he eyes your nude frame before him. “Look so fuckin’ sexy like this, Y/n.”
You couldn’t thank him for the compliment, your lips busy with Nanami’s as he takes you in for a steamy kiss. Both men drill their members into you in erratic unison, leaving you a squealing mess for the fair-headed one to deal with. His hands continue to tweak and grind on your clitoris, and your orgasm hits you before you can prepare yourself with a tear trickling down. 
And the flutter of your walls around their cocks eggs them onto waves of their own, groaning along with your cries as they piston you with the final ruts of their hips. Their pulsating lengths exert their loads inside your holes simultaneously, filling you up with their essence as their sweaty bodies heave and shudder. Nanami releases your clit from his grasp, the same with your lips. 
He hums pleasantly, his brown orbs hooded yet comforting. “Told you I love having you around me.”
“Bet y’re glad you stayed over,” Toji’s hand finds its way to your chin after putting your legs down. He scoffs when you bashfully nod, bringing you in for a kiss. “Did so well, mama…”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Mornings are typically a thing you share with your daughter in the comfort of your home. From the moment she came into your world to having her own room and bed, Nobara would always be the first thing you’d see when waking up. Coming into your room to greet you, pulling you out for something, or get dressed and ready for the day with you – it was a routine the two of you shared, a sacred thing to enjoy between parent and daughter. So, to wake up in a room different from yours or see a different face has been a rarity ever since she became your top priority.
This morning, though, was one of those rarities.
“Good morning, Y/n.”
Your eyes flickered open from birds chirping and the sun peaking from the bedroom curtains. Drowsy eyes scan around to see that you are not in your room, already being alerted that something had happened last night of the change of scenery. And when you look to see who lies beside you, it all hits you like a slap.
It was like a scene from a romance movie, waking up to Nanami’s stunning face that was highlighted by the sunlight. Fair blonde hair that matched the softness of his russet eyes and a kind smile to match. And your breath hitches when he brings a hand to caress your cheek. 
“Mornin’, Y/n.”
And, of course, he wasn’t the only one who’d be greeting you. You sheepishly turn around to see the other man looking at you, viridian orbs ready to meet your pretty face. The smile on his face pulls the scar on his lips, the man effortlessly shooting an arrow into your heart. 
Everything that occurred the night before flashes, and the heat returns to dance on your cheeks and ears. Waking up in a different bed with two handsome men is one thing. To wake up to your crushes greeting you good morning, all three of you nude and comfortable after a night of mutual passion? Oh, you had to be dreaming still.
And yet, you couldn’t look at either of them in the eyes, averting your gaze modestly. “…Good morning,” you say quietly, almost squeaking your heart out when they both move to be closer. They kiss you, embrace you, and give you attention as if your decade-long crush has finally been lifted for them to spoil you. It’s kind of suffocating in a way. But, God, it felt so good.
Eventually, you got up and threw on some clothes to make food for everyone, Nanami joining you after putting his sleepwear back on. Toji had to leave for a moment to grab stuff from the store, his daughter waking up to the sound of him slamming the front door close. Then came Megumi, then Yuuji, who greeted Nanami with a hug, and now Nobara. The children sit around the table and mingle while you and the blonde fix some blueberry waffles, eggs, and bacon.
“Isn’t that my dad’s shirt?” Megumi was the first to notice it, pointing to the sweatshirt that went with your loose jeans — the same sweatshirt that Toji wore yesterday.
You flatten your lips before coming up with an answer. “Yes…I had nothing to wear for sleeping over, so he gave me his shirt. He didn’t mind; he brought an extra one.”
“You stayed over, Auntie?” Yuuji inquired after taking a sip of his apple juice. “Where did you sleep?”
“On the couch.”
Brown brows scrunch together before Nobara asks, “But wasn’t Uncle Toji the one who’d sleep on the couch?” 
You open your mouth, but words fail to exit out. Sharing a glance with Nanami, who coughs while putting waffles on plates, he covers for you. “He slept in my bed with me.”
“You slept with my father?” Tsumiki interrogates, trying to stifle a laugh. “He snores a lot, so I’m sorry if you couldn’t sleep, Uncle Nanami.”
As if on cue, the front door opens and closes with the arrival of her father, walking to kiss Tsumiki’s cheek and ruffle Megumi’s hair before entering the kitchen. He pulls something out of the plastic grocery bag and hands it to you. Putting the mixing bowl down, you take what seems to be a box, and your eyes widen to Toji’s amusement. “I’d take those before leaving if I were you.” 
“Jesus Christ,” you put the box of birth control to the side with a flustered face. “Thank you…” And before you can process it, Toji sneaks a kiss on your cheek with you distracted. The older man cackles to himself when you slap his arm and push him off. Thankfully, none of the kids notice.
“Uncle Toji,” Nobara grabs the man’s attention. “Is it true you slept with Uncle Nanami?” 
The question takes him aback, but Toji’s quick on his feet to reply. “Yeah, I did. Your dad looks like a dead man when asleep, Yuyu.”
The pink-haired child nods along to the nickname. “Mhmm! Even when he comes home from work, he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks, like some kind of vampire.” You snuck a glimpse at the sand-haired man, who rolled his eyes before bringing plates to put on the table. 
“Anyways,” he diverts the conversation to a different subject, placing a plate full of food in front of the boys. “Be ready for the zoo after breakfast, Yuuji. Didn’t you say you wanted to see the new tiger cubs?”
The Fushiguro siblings brighten with interest at the mention of the zoo, turning to their father, who instantly shuts them down with crossed arms. “Don’t even think about it. I’m already takin’ you two to the aquarium tomorrow; you want me to pay for more tickets for some animals?”
The joy in their eyes diminishes in seconds. “Cheapskate,” Megumi mumbled under his breath, earning a blueberry to be thrown at him by Toji. But the siblings smile when Nanami says that they can come along. 
“Momma,” you dreaded hearing your daughter’s voice during this conversation, hesitantly peering at the dark-haired girl after being given her breakfast. “Can I go, too?” 
Oh, goddamn it. “I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t keep going back and forth from the house and wherever. Besides, you have karate today.”
“I can skip!” Your mouth drops at her enthusiasm. “Besides, we can just sleep over again!”
This girl! “Nobara, you can’t just go making those decisions like this is your home. Did you ask Yuuji’s father if it was okay to stay another night?” You probably shouldn’t have said that, as the girl immediately asks the blonde father the exact question. And to your shock, he says they’re free to stay another night. You’re not helping! “You don’t even have an extra pair of clothes!”
And to make it worse, the onyx-haired man beside you says this, which makes you facepalm with a groan. “I can drive you two home and back. Saves ya some gas.”  You’re not helping either, and you’re just losing gas for my sake!
Mornings were supposed to be an easy thing to deal with. And yet here you are, dealing with a predicament. Shit like this is precisely why you don’t stay for too long during Nobara’s playdates and sleepovers; now you’re backed into a position where saying no seems futile. Nothing wrong with the children wanting to hang out more, but fuck does it throw the routine off. However, it wasn’t all bad. Because the whole point of this was for the little girl to have fun with her friends, who are you to be a Debby downer on her parade?
Plus…you’d get to hang out with Toji and Nanami for another day; that alone has your stomach running laps right now. Not only did you have your feelings reciprocated by the two men within a single night and then some, but you’re now invited to stay another day and enjoy the weekend in their company. You can sense their gazes on you, awaiting your answer – your approval to spoil and please you for one more night. And what makes your heart skip into flips is that there would probably be more days and nights to deepen this relationship between you three…
So, with a heavy sigh, you slide your hand down your face.
“…Can we at least go get some spare clothes first?”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune.
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burntoutdaydreamer · 11 months
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
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toadtoru · 1 month
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PLAY ME
contents: sukuna x f! reader, fluff, suggestive, pet names (baby, pretty girl), college/modern au
wordcount: 1k
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Sukuna doesn’t usually go for women like you. He doesn’t necessarily have type, never has. Sukuna likes small women and big women, shy women and outgoing women. If he can get his dick wet he’s happy, really.
You’re different somehow. He’s not really sure why. Usually, he loses interest after a few days, but you’ve somehow kept his and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.
It all started when he saw you at that stuffy frat party weeks ago. You were laughing. Loudly. Your head was thrown back and the skin around your eyes crinkled and you looked exceptionally pretty right in that moment. Sukuna immediately stopped, because what the actual fuck?
Sukuna doesn’t find girls pretty. He finds them fuckable, or hot, maybe. He never finds them pretty.
That’s why he quickly walks past you into the kitchen, grabbing a vodka bottle from someone and roughly downing half of the bottle. He wakes up the next morning in some girl's bed and leaves before she wakes up.
This is where the fucking curse starts. Sukuna sees you everywhere now. He spots you on campus, he spots you at the cafe where Gojo forces him to study, he spots you at his favourite bar.
You’re always vibrant. You’re always smiling. You’re fucking annoying.
Which is why he wishes he wasn’t here right now. You’re at the other end of the table, on Nanami’s back. You peek out from behind the blonde’s shoulder, slightly pocking your tongue out as you aim for the cup on the table in front of him.
Gojo, who’s unfortunately Sukuna’s beer pong partner, and who’s also drunk out of his mind, is teasingly telling you how you can’t do it. You wink at him in return, and throw the ball, landing it perfectly in the cup.
You and Nanami immediately erupt into cheers as he spins you both around. His arms are hooked under your knees and you wrap your arms around his neck. Sukuna isn’t sure why he’s feeling so annoyed about this. He notices that Nanami seems more lively than usual. That only bothers him some more.
Gojo goes to drink the beer in the cup before Sukuna quickly grabs it and downs the contents. “Hey, I was going to drink that!” Gojo whines and Sukuna shoots him a glare.
“Fuck off, you’re wasted,” he states. He looks back at his opponents, only to find Haibara standing next to Nanami instead of you.
What the fuck?
He’s still not sure, but he excuses himself to the bathroom then, ignoring Gojo’s whines as he disappears into a flurry of sweaty bodies and yelling people. He doesn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, he finds you in the kitchen, sitting on the kitchen counter with a water bottle in your hand.
“You not gonna finish the game?” he asks and you look at him questioningly. “No, Haibara wanted to play,” you reply, before motioning to the water bottle.
“And I was thirsty,” you finish, before taking another sip of your water. Sukuna hums. He walks closer to you so that he’s standing between your legs and he smiles at you as your eyes slightly widen. His fingers drum over your thighs and you swallow your water before putting it aside.
“Your name is Sukuna, right?” you ask and he nods, pleased that his reputation precedes him. His hands are on your hips now, running up and down your sides.
“Yeah, what’s your name, baby?” he asks and you give him your name. You don’t go to stop his hands, although you fully know what kind of guy Sukuna is. Something about the way he looks at you intrigues you, enough to let him play his little game.
Sukuna repeats your name back to you as if he’s tasting the word. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he states and you raise your brows, a small scoff leaving your lips. Sukuna is taken aback for a second, surprised by your reaction. Your usual sunshine demeanour seems to have been reserved for other people.
“Okay,” you say, dragging out the syllables. “Listen, Sukuna,” he can’t help but think his name sounds so pretty on your lips. “Why don’t we skip the games and you tell me what you want?” you ask, slightly tilting your head to the side.
Sukuna isn’t really sure what happens next, but one thing is certain — you have him completely wrapped around your finger. You let him lead you to his apartment (and Sukuna never takes his hookups home, that is, until now) and before he can register anything, you are in his bed.
You’re stripped out of your pretty dress and left on his white sheets in a pretty lingerie set. Pink, he notices. That’s when he realizes he’s been played. He takes you in in all of your glory, eyes running over your curves.
It’s when he has you here, splayed out on his sheets, gasping into his ear that he realizes that he’s fucked. Like, utterly, completely, thoroughly fucked.
It isn’t even your body, although he enjoys that part very much. It’s the ways your eyes shine when you smile, how your lips look all kiss-bitten and red, how you hum in his ear and tell him he’s doing a good job.
Sukuna’s utterly weak in the knees. You’ve turned them into goo. You’ve turned him into goo. His brain is mushy, his fingers fumble. He dreads your reaction, dreads the frown on your face, but you’re all giggles and smiles, guiding him with such effortlessness.
And the next morning you’re gone.
Sukuna figures. Everything good always leaves. Your side of the bed is cold, offputtingly so. Like something’s missing. That’s how it goes. That’s why he’s like this. He forgot why he keeps his distance, but he promises to never ever do that again. He shouldn’t have let you bulldoze his carefully crafted walls so easily—
Wait.
Is that toast?
Sukuna follows the smell into his kitchen, where you’re wearing nothing but his shirt and that lovely pair of pink panties. He can see the bitemarks and handprints on your thighs that he made sure to leave last night. Staking his claim.
You turn around and you smile, lighting up his dull bachelor kitchen. Sukuna feels the desire to buy a plant. Or some more cutlery, perhaps.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,”
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denial is a river in egypt.
also idk if i made this clear enough, but this isn’t some “not like other girls” propaganda, sukuna is just a fucking idiot
thank you for reading! <3
masterlist | divider by plutism
4K notes · View notes
roanofarcc · 2 months
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WORTH YOUR WHILE
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pairing. Tyler Owens x fem!reader
summary. as the local weather woman, you shared an interesting rivalry with your hometown storm-chaser. while you always reported on the dangerous weather from a safe distance, tyler barreled into it head-first. but things change the night of the county fair when you find yourself in the middle of a storm rather than in the safely of a newsroom. 
warnings. dramatic fluff, hurt/comfort, description of tornados, a curse word or two, description of injury, slightly inaccurate meteorological info.
word count. 2.9k || masterlist
a/n. hopping on the glen powell bandwagon bc he and daisy absolutely killed it in twisters!! feel free to send me requests for tyler, kate, and javi!
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“If you keep looking at him like that your face will get stuck in a scowl, which is really bad for television,” your friend said, leaning into your side. With a roll of your eyes, you managed to pull your attention away from the self-titled ‘tornado wrangler’ who had stirred up a fuss in the line for funnel cakes. People buzzed all around him as he signed shirts and took photos, never dropping his smile that you often dreamed about smacking right off of his face. 
You had grown up alongside Tyler Owens, never as friends but as friends of friends. After you both split off for school to study meteorology, you returned to your hometown for very different reasons. Tyler started in the business of storm chasing, live streaming his adventures to people all across the internet who sensationalized the dangerous weather, and you scored a job as your hometown’s Weather Woman. Your job was to warn people about the threat of tornados while his was to drive head-on into them. 
That was where you two drew your lines in the sand when it came to each other. He thought you were scared of taking risks while you thought his thrill-seeking was stupid and would eventually get him or one of his team members hurt. Those opinions on each other's job led to you two butting heads every time you encountered one another. His mere presence was enough to annoy you, especially at your favorite event of the summer, the fair. 
“Look who it is,” Tyler’s voice sounded near you and your friend nudged your arm in the direction of it. You looked away from her just as he approached you, tipping his hat and flashing his teeth in a smile. “Didn’t know they still let you out of the newsroom these days.” 
You crossed your arms over your chest, as the air of arrogance surrounding him nearly choked you out. “Don’t you have a tornado to chase?” you asked, wanting to end the conversation before it fully started. Unfortunately, he never seemed put off by your jabs, but he was assumed by them. 
“I took the night off,” he replied. “I wanted to see if there was anything worth my while here tonight.” 
You raised your brows. “Oh really?” He nodded, smiling brightly at you. “Find anything yet?” 
“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’d be easier if she answered my phone calls.” 
Tyler disliked you a whole lot less than you disliked him. After you graduated and he started storm chasing, he tried at every given opportunity to get you to join his team. Even years later he still tried to, no matter how many times you told him the risk he was putting himself and his team in every time they barreled into a storm cell. He was relentless but you were happy where you were at. You wanted to help people when it came to severe weather, not make the storm look enticing for internet audiences. 
“I already told you, I’m not interested.” Storm chasing was a dangerous game that you had no intention of playing. Being from the Midwest, you had lived through your share of tornados. Chasing them was not in apart of your career path.
His smile faded slightly before he seemed to snap back to himself. “All I’m saying is, we could use a mind like yours out in the field.” The compliment was nice, you could admit that to yourself, but it wouldn’t win you over. He knew that too. “But suit yourself.” And with that he walked off, meeting up with the rest of his team that joined him at the fair that night. 
Your friend whistled lowly. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. 
“Do what?” 
“Say no to a man like that.” You rolled your eyes once more as the line you were in moved. As she stepped forward to order, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder in the direction Tyler had walked off in. You saw him happily chatting with his team before glancing back at you for just a moment before you returned your gaze forward.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of colorful lights, sticky heat, and enough fried food to make your stomach ache in the best possible way. Your friend left after a couple hours of roaming the prize barns and laughing at the kids screaming their heads off on the carnival rides, but you stuck around for a little longer, relishing in the sweet nostalgia the fair brought you. 
Before you had taken a couple of well-deserved days of work, you and your team had predicted a storm front moving. Later that night was supposed to bring rainfall and a thunderstorm or two popping up around the county and neighboring areas. You thought you’d have plenty of time to roam the fair for a little longer until it hit, but you noticed the shift in the weather almost immediately. The sudden uptick in wind pricked the back of your neck as the distant rumble of thunder echoed above the fair chaos. 
It was difficult to predict everything, that you had learned early on in your career. It also was hard to predict how quickly weather could change from bad to deadly. One moment you’re gazing up through the lights into the night sky, trying to gauge the incoming storm, and the next, the sirens are blaring across the fairgrounds. 
The crowd of people running in every direction made the walkways hazardous. You were knocked into and jostled around as you tried to run toward the restrooms that doubled as storm shelters. They were clear at the opposite end of the walkway, but they were your closest option. You dodged and weaved through the swarms of people, trying to stay on your feet. 
You only made it halfway to the shelter when you were stopped by the awful cries of a little girl who sat under the counter of one of the carnival games. She hugged her knees to her chest and called out for her mom, but no one who rushed by stopped. You didn’t think twice before you sidestepped the fleeing crowd and crouched down in front of the little girl. The wind picked up significantly, blowing the cheap prizes right out of the booths and sending everything flying around and knocking into people. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” you raised your voice above the howl of wind and frantic people. 
“My mom!” she cried harder. “I lost her. I don’t know where she is!” 
You glanced back up at the sky. The lightning strikes illuminated the massive, dark mass moving in quickly. “Come with me, and I’ll help you find her, okay?” 
The noise all around grew louder, frightening the little girl, along with yourself, but as you outstretched your hand, she took it, and you quickly pulled her to her feet before you both took off running. The speakers urged everyone to seek shelter immediately, but you watched as people raced in the opposite direction of the shelters, probably bee-lining to cars in an awful call. They’d never out race it. 
“Charlotte!” Someone screamed and the little girl whipped her head around before she tugged hard on your hand. From behind you, the little girl’s mother appeared, immediately scooping up her daughter in her arms. “Oh my, God. Thank you!” she said, looking at you with teary eyes. 
“We have to take cover,” you told her, gently pushing her forward. “The shelter’s just up that way.” She thanked you again before she took off with her daughter in her arms. You wanted to follow, it was stupid not to when the wind gusts became more powerful, rattling everything dangerously and making it hard to think. But there were more people unsure of where to go and what to do. Groups of kids who had been dropped off for the evening stumbling frantically out of the rides and still dizzy. You stepped from the path and tried to direct people as best you could, shouting in tune with the speaker and the sirens for them to hurry into the shelter. 
It wasn’t until larger objects were plucked from the ground and tossed into the air like paper did you abandoned your aiding. The tornado screeched to life, ripping apart pieces of the show barns and rides with ease. You tried to close the distance between yourself and the shelter once more, but it wasn’t people in need that stopped you, it was a sheet of metal pried from the side of one of the food trucks. You tried to dodge the hurling objects, but the sheet came at you hard and fast. 
It sliced your shin, sending a wave of pain up through the rest of your leg. You stumbled, determined to stay upright, but the wind was too strong for your limping figure, and you toppled against the concrete, slamming your knees against the ground before you rolled over into the lousy shelter of a game’s tent somehow still standing. 
Panic started to set in as the storm raged around you, loud and monstrous. You covered your wound with your hands, unsure of where the blaring of the tornado ended and the fast-paced beat of your heart started, drumming in your ears and beating against your skull. You knew you couldn’t stay there, but leaving was just as dangerous as every attraction of the fair swirled around in the air. The cut from your leg painted your hands red and throbbed; it would only slow you down if you tried to run, creating even more of a risk. 
You didn’t know what to do. All of your life, the storms you had faced you’d always been lucky enough to find shelter in plenty of time, from the cellar in your backyard to your high school’s basement created just for such an occasion. 
Through the freight train sounding winds and your thundering heart, you heard a couple of voices that had to be close. Tearing your eyes away from the cut on your leg, you watched as another group of people sprinted down the walkway as someone yelled behind them to run. 
In all of your life, you’d never been so relieved to see Tyler Owens’s face standing just a few feet away; he hadn’t spotted you, and for a terrifying moment you thought he’d be unable to hear you yell out above the screaming storm. But somehow, he did. His head snapped in your direction, rain-coated and windblown, looking both out of sorts and in his element. 
“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled as he ran over to you, dodging flying debris that grew larger by the minute. The second he crouched down in front of you, his eyes flickered onto your legs, and the blood seeping out between your fingers as you tried to keep pressure on the wound. 
“I thought I’d just hang out here,” you said, your sarcasm watered down by the fear clear in your teary eyes.
His brows furrowed, deep in thought for a moment as he looked between you and the distance there was still to cross to the only close shelter. Without saying a word, he peeled off his wet flannel, leaving himself in a shirt that was already nearly soaked through as the sideways rain beat down against the both of you. “I’m gonna tie this around your leg and then we’re gonna run, okay?” 
You shook your head frantically. The ache in your legs was intense and you had already lost a good amount of blood, not enough to make you woozy but you were well on your way. It felt like your heart had crawled up your throat, making it hard to breathe as panic soaked you to the bone along with the rain. Everything around you seemed to be ripped from the ground, even the anchored tent you were under was seconds away from being picked up. 
“Hey,” he said, grabbing a hold of your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “It’ll be alright. You gotta trust me, though.” The sincerity shined in his eyes, bright as the rest of the power around you flickered wickedly. With a nod of your head, you dropped your hands from your leg and let him tie the flannel around your cut. As he pulled it tight, you cried out in pain. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating until it was knotted. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and helped you up, looping an arm around your waist as you slung an arm around his shoulders. 
“Ready?” You didn’t get a chance to respond as the tent you were under was plucked from the ground, anchors and all, and flung backward into the tornado as it tore through the front entrance of the fairgrounds. Tyler took off, giving you no choice but to follow. 
You two stayed low, trying desperately to avoid the flying objects. With each step your leg burned, but Tyler’s hold on you was strong, not giving any room for you to lag behind or slip away. It felt like hours of running, but it was no more than a minute or two before you reached the shelter. The only major injury between the two of you was your leg, otherwise, you both collected a series of little cuts and bruises from your journey. 
Stumbling into the restroom, you were met with a hoard of scared fairgoers. You two managed to find a spot to slot yourself in with everyone else. He helped you lower yourself to the floor back in the corner just as the tornado was fully on top of you. You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your head. Tyler sat flushed against your side; you felt his hands rest over the top of yours as the building rattled violently. Squeezing your eyes shut, you refused to see the damage until the howl of wind subsided and people started to stir. 
Once it was over, everyone stumbled out of the shelter, getting jumbled together as police and ambulances rushed to the scene. Amongst people pushing and shoving to find their loved ones and get the hell home, you and Tyler were separated and before you could look for him, an EMT caught sight of your bloodied leg and ushered you to one of the ambulances. 
You sat on the back after the EMT stitched up your leg, looking over the torn-apart fairgrounds. Debris was littered everywhere, food trucks and carts overturned and some demolished, and rides were dislocated and strewn about in pieces. 
You clutched the bloodied flannel to your chest, shivering in the loss of adrenaline and temperature drop, and watched the sea of people until a familiar face popped into view, looking a little frantic as he stumbled through the crowd looking like he was in search of something. His eyes finally settled on you before he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached you. 
“Hi,” you greeted, smiling tiredly. 
“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. “I looked away for a second and you were gone and-” You continued to smile, and he stopped himself. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“Nothing,” you replied quietly before clearing your throat. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you. And I’m sorry for ruining your flannel.” You gestured to the ruined piece of clothing resting in your lap. 
Tyler was quiet for a moment, looking at the large bandage around your shin. “Don’t mention it,” he said, brushing off your thanks like he hadn’t just pretty much saved your life. “What were you doing out there anyway?” 
You sighed, feeling a creep of embarrassment up your spine. You should’ve known better but at the moment you just wanted to help people and had little regard for your own safety, until your leg was sliced open, that was. “There were people still out there, trying to figure out where to go. I was trying to help.” 
“That was stupid,” he said. “But brave. Stupidly brave, maybe.” 
“Funny. I think I’ve said the same thing about you a time for two.” 
His signature smirk slowly fell onto his lips. “Not to my face.”
“Oh, no. Never.” 
Tyler laughed, gently patting your knee, lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand back at his side. Someone called out your name, and you spotted your friend running back through the crowd. She had called you as soon as you had made it to the ambulance and told you she’d come back to take you home. 
“You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you around.” As he turned around to walk away, you called out to him. 
“Tyler, wait.” He paused. “You should try calling me again. Maybe I’ll answer this time.” Breaking out in a grin, he tipped his hat in another goodbye, leaving you with a new feeling stirring inside your chest. 
Bonus! 
Hours later, after you had cleaned yourself up, you were tucked into bed, reading by the lamp light knowing sleep was probably far off after the events of the night. You didn’t expect your phone to ring that late into the night, and when you glanced at it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the caller ID, but that time it was something besides annoyance that you felt. 
You answered, discarding your book on your nightstand. “You don’t waste any time do you,” you teased. 
“What I can say,” Tyler said on the other line. “I know when I find something worth my while.” 
3K notes · View notes
giamee · 4 months
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🌐 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 '𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘!
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hsr men x f!reader .... SMUT!! 🚨🚨🚨
request ؛ ଓ @coreakin-sakarat What will the honkai star rail men play when yr having sex and who bottom or both and do they go rithm oh oh and do they use toys on u and what are their favorite parts of ur body to fuck
gia's notes ؛ ଓ i did this as more of me just... talkin abt what i think the hsr men are like in bed in order from least to most freaky in my humble opinion. i hope that you like it even though i didn't exactly hit every point u brought up :(
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DAN HENG .ᐟ୨୧ starting it off sweet with him, i see dan heng as more of a bottom than anything... he's not super experienced, quite a tender lover, and i see him as remaining quite serious and stoic within the bedroom too. definitely more of a slow and sensual pace, just wants to feel it all with you <3 he's quite hesitant to try things out imo, but i reckon that you could convince him to try out using toys with some convincing! 1000% a thigh guy, really likes pulling out and painting your thighs with his cum as he watches them shake. presses kisses to your forehead as you come down from both of your highs. lowkey i get the vibe that the aftercare and the cuddling and falling asleep together is more satisfying to him than having sex. THIS MAN CRAVES SKIN TO SKIN!!!! he will interlace your fingers while fucking and kiss all over your face!!! a very sweet lover <3
GEPARD .ᐟ୨୧ this man SCREAMS pleasure service top to me. he could cum in his pants just by watching you i swear. he just wants to satisfy you as best as he can :((( your wish is his command frfr. he'll put you in whatever positions you want fully customisable experience just say the word. will sometimes pause midway through sex just to ask you if he's doing a good job and if it feels good with his big puppy dog eyes AWEE. i think he would probably be a little hesitant to try out toys, especially at first? his logic reverts to him assuming that he wasn't good enough at pleasuring you and so you have to revert to a piece of plastic... but be a bit dominant and show, don't tell, him just how good a vibrator can feel and he'll be a lot more on board with the idea <3 his whole mentality is just.. do anything to give you pleasure so if you're on the freakier side, this man is game! (PEG HIM) the little sadistic side of you gets a kick seeing tears well up in his eyes if you edge him just to hear his whines and moans... he might be a top but this man is a sub thru and thru. a bad bitch (you) tells him what to do and he listens!! anyways back to when you and him are fucking... this man is just utterly in love with your pussy, they way it gushes and clenches around him, and his absolute favourite position is any where he gets to just bury his face in ur tits while he's buried inside of you because everything is just so comforting and all of him is now surrounded by something so warm and soft... he's in heaven <3 so yeah he's a tits guy who would have thought!! no matter the shape or size HE'S PUTTING THEM IN HIS MOUTH <3 his thrusts get real sloppy at the end when he's about to cum too, starts babbling in your ear about how good it feels and how much he loves u. what a cutie pie
ARGENTI .ᐟ୨୧ to be honest? i had to think a bit about this one. to me, argenti doesn't really seem like the type to bring up using toys... but that doesn't mean that he isn't game if you mention it. he seems ... not passive exactly? but he just seems like the type to go with the flow with sex. whatever you're into he'll just be like shit i'm down let's go. not kinky per se, but he's definitely a passionate lover. very much wants to explore sensuality. ooh maybe he would be into some sort of wax play or blindfold type behaviour i take it back. would probably chuckle if you decide to get on top and place his hands on your hips to help you adjust to his size and set your own pace <3 very loving, wants to celebrate the beauty of your naked body and worship it in the name of adrila. so yeah if you've got a praise kink, HE'S YOUR MAN!!! you feel like the subject of a poem as he sings your praises, telling you how pretty you look and sound when you cum. like shiiiii that would be enough to make me blush <33 in terms of pace and stuff, i feel like he would be pretty standard? maybe on the slower side because of... you know... passion. it's nothing crazy but still a good time. he seems like he prefers to be looking up at you so RIDE THAT MAN!! maintain eye contact as you sink down on it. raise your hips back up ever so slowly and watch the slightest twitch of his brow as you swivel your hips, sinking back down on it ever so slowly. you might just see him blush. and just as the name suggests, the knight of beauty is a SIGHT to behold when he cums (probably inside).
WELT .ᐟ୨୧ yeah peepaw has got some EXPERIENCE to him lmaoo. he's got a sort of... cheekier? side to him. as an older man, though, he doesn't exactly have the same stamina as he did in his youth :( but that doesn't mean that he can't still get down and dirty with you!! quite the opposite actually. so his solution? he uses toys on you <3 he's more of a bottom but he is DEFINITELY in charge. his dirty talk OMFGG im giggling just thinking about it he would praise you and whisper such sweet words to you as he slowly splits you open on his fat cock, telling you how you're such a good girl for taking him so well, how you feel so good around him, all so he can feel you clench around him like a vice grip as he finally bottoms out <33 def would just have his hands around your waist as he moves you up and down his length when you're feeling weightless. but if he's in a more passive mood, he also LOVESSSS just sitting back and watching you struggle to ride him with a lazy adoring look in his eyes as he holds a vibrator to your clit <333 he'll coo at you as you start crying from the overstimulation, his hands wiping away your tears so tenderly and encouraging you to keep going just for him <3 a little bit of a sadistic side to him because he really does just love watching you squirm. another thigh and ass guy imo, really loves the way they jiggle as they slam down against his own thighs as you start to pick up the pace and ride him with increasing desperation. also loves watching them shake when you cum <3. so yeah as a no brainer i think one of his favourite positions would be reverse cowgirl. yum <3
BOOTHILL .ᐟ୨୧ now dont get me wrong this man FUCKS. since he's a cyborg does his dick count as a toy...? yeah fuck it let's go with it HIS BIOCOCK VIBRATES!! so the sensations on that will go CRAZYYYY. and then i'm thinking because of his synthesia beacon and stuff he doesn't exactly experience much sensation down there. so when you're having sex, what gets him off the most is just seeing your pleasure as you unravel. makes him feel good vicariously <3 so yeah definitely a missionary lover in my eyes so he can watch all your facial expressions and reactions as he hits all the right places, how your brows furrow and your eyes slide shut and eyes roll back in your head as he keeps up his unforgiving pace at juuuuust the right angle <33 but don't get me wrong he's no vanilla bitch either!! if he wants to be feeling more ... sensations he can and will make you just sit on his face for actual HOURS just eating you out to his heart's content. you'd think that his tongue is cybernetic too with the way it flicks across your clit at a borderline INHUMAN speed. but no he's just that good. some of ur most intense orgasms have been from him tonguefucking you like this, his head firmly sandwiched between your quivering thighs as you're basically humping his face as u ride out your high. and hey, he's not complaining <3 and then his smug shit-eating grin does NOT help at all when you're still trying to come back down to earth and he's sitting up wiping the slick off his face with that hungry look STILL in his eyes good lord i hope u can survive the night. this bastard has definitely ruined toys for you, they just don't feel the same any more <//3
BLADE .ᐟ୨୧ fucks hard. angry and/or jealous sex with him has just gotta be >>> 😮‍💨😮‍💨 he's on the rougher side and for MOST of the time will dom. and also tbh i don't really see him as being the type to use toys since he's more spontaneous in terms of having sex (public sex. he's got a high sex drive) but very very passionate for sure- lots of grunts and low moans right up in ur ear mhhhnrng. but also at the same time i feel like he would be quite emotionally detached from sex at first, seeing it as more like stress relief than an act of intimacy? and don't get me wrong, some of the best fucks of your life have come from him when he's just trying to release some pent up anger, but on the flip side there's a more vulnerable side to him, almost. one that's barely there any more from years of bitterness and resentment, but still manages to creep up on him on those late nights where he can't quite sleep. so if you're with him on those rare occasions, this is when you experience him not fucking you, but making LOVE. he won't talk, but he doesn't need to, not with the way he's holding you close to him and kissing you with something akin to desperation as he sinks into you and kind of just... stays there for a bit. it's oddly comforting to him, and if he's feeling especially weak he'll need some comfort- just to get him through the night. it's these nights where you take control more, setting a slow and sweet pace and kind of just... hushing him and whispering sweet words to him as you slowly let yourself grind over him, feeling the way he twitches inside of u <333 but yeah back to not vulnerable blade. a fan of quickies for sureeee (see: high sex drive) another tit guy because i am biased. the force of his thrusts in some dark alleyway or hidden corner will have them jiggling and threatening to fall out of whatever shirt you wear. and if he's got you lifted up in his arms, your legs wrapped around him as you're chest to chest with each other, he just can't tear his eyes away from your boobs. leaves bites on them, laves over them like a damn dog until they're coated in saliva and stiff and perked up because of how cold it feels when drying on your skin. if you're in doggystyle, you'll feel his hands clasp over them from behind, a few short and sweet squeezes to them before his blunt nails are flicking over your nipples just to hear you squeal <3
AVENTURINE .ᐟ୨୧ just like blade, he very much has two different modes. let's start with the freaky one bc that's fun. he's quite open to experiment with all aspects of sex- who's in charge, who's topping, toys, positions, you name it. he trusts you enough to do anything with or to you short of causing each other pain. so yeah he's a freak alright!! i feel like if you're in an established relationship, he'll feel guilty due to the amount if time that he spends away from you because of his job, and make it up to you by spoiling you with gifts... he loves to buy you new toys to try out as he sits back and just watches as you squirm and then writhe in pleasure as he slowly palms himself, eventually unzipping his trousers and jerking himself off until he cums all over u <33 definitely gets a kick out of seeing his cum painting your pretty face and how your tongue darts out to catch it before it drips onto the floor <333 or maybe he just strokes himself to stay hard, his eyes hungrily watching you as your own remain transfixed on his cock, the flushed tip disappearing with every stroke of his hand, the slick noises of his precum overpowering the buzzing hum of the dildo inside of you. and then when neither of you can handle the tension any more, dying to feel each other's touch, after you've cum a couple of times and are all nice and sensitive for him, then and ONLY then will he finally put it in, quickly setting a pace to fuck your brains out like a wild animal <3 lovessss doggystyle or the speedbump position because then he's all up in your guts and ur moans/screams of pleasure are just music to his ears. definitely the type to go a little feral bc... yeah. so yeah that's freaky mode! but like blade he has a softer side to him UNLIKE blade it is still definitely there and more accessible... but that doesn't mean he exposes it to you just like that either. but yeah if he's feeling more vulnerable emotionally, especially right after he wakes up from a nightmare while you're groggily waking up next to him, he just needs comfort. you holding him and stroking his hair, telling him how he's safe and how much you love him. if you've been together for a while and he really trusts you, he might even cry. almost begs you to call him kakavasha instead of aventurine, and you oblige. and then as soon as his name leaves your lips, he's kissing you hard, gradually letting them become tender as you undress each other with the utmost amount of care. it's love that motivates him, from what you can feel from his fingers tracing your skin and how soft his lips press against yours. he lets out a quiet moan as he sinks into you and basks in your warmth for a bit, letting his arms now wrap around your frame tightly, holding you to himself as if you would disappear any moment. and you hug him too, draw patterns on his back, stroke his hair and hum as you tell him how much you love him, listening to the sound of his shaky breaths as you slowly raise your hips, sinking back down inch by inch to hear him hiss. at first, he would still refuse to let you see his face when you have sex like this, not until you gently coax him to look at you, and you see the crystalline tears already escaping from his eyes. he's definitely the type to cry during sex like this- something so soft and tender that it's overwhelming to him for so many reasons- the vulnerability of it all, how much you love and care for him written all over your face, the way you squeeze against him so perfectly. and then he buries his face in your chest as you keep whispering words of affirmation to him and he cums so fast, deep inside of you and then he stays even when he feels himself go soft. just because it feels nice. and he falls asleep just like that, clinging to you, the person he loves.
JING YUAN .ᐟ୨୧ another member of team lazy but pussydrunk (him and welt have permanent memberships lmfao) whenever the two of you fuck it usually starts with him making you work for it. involving either you getting off by grinding on his thigh or riding him, desperately throwing your weight back onto him to even simulate the feeling of his powerful thrusts- all in vain as he merely sits there, looking up at you with a maddening smile and just WATCHING you... what a creep <3 but yeah he loves loves loves seeing how worked up and whiny you get for him to do something, anything, just for him to do the exact opposite, placing two firm hands on your hips to effectively get you to stop, and you whine again from the loss of friction. and he'll merely smile, telling you how you're such a good girl for him, getti my off from watching you get so so close, just to do it over and over again. orgasm denial and edging really are his two best friends fr. so he's not really a strict dom but more of a tease, you get me? i think that YES he will use toys. really gets a kick out of vibrating panties or a vibrator inside of you that he can remote control <33 just really enjoys when you're in public trying to remain composed (what a creep <3) keeps u constantly stimulated all day, finally making it up to you when you both get back home, fucking you properly as you're on the verge of tears and ready to cum any second. hmmm hear me out on this but i think his favourite place to cum would be your back.. like yeah finishing inside is cool and all but pulling out and cumming all over your back just drives him CRAZY and ready for another round... as soon as you recover <3
LUOCHA .ᐟ୨୧ LORDDDDDD he's like jing yuan but even WORSE. he's dangerous too because in his eyes, it isn't him or a toy but him AND a toy. this man will have u in his lap thighs spread legs hanging over his knees so he can keep them open as he has one hand gripping your chin forcing to look at yourself in a mirror, the other hand holding a vibe to yr clit <33 every time your eyes start to roll back he'll do a light slap to your face, forcing you to hold eye contact with him through the mirror, his feline eyes dancing with mirth at your already fucked-out expression. and then when he's sure that his gaze is holding your attention, he'll let go of your face, letting his hand snaie downwards until his hands are collecting your slick on his fingers before pushing into you, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek that contradicts how hard he's fingering you <3 squirting is not an achievement but the new standard with him!! that man is NOT relenting until you coat his arm and the floor (even the mirror) he really likes making you kiss him just after you cum- when your brain is foggy from the intensity of your orgasm, you can barely hear, let alone process what he's saying, and when u finally manage to connect your lips to his the kiss is just so sweet n sloppy, showing how worked up he is already <33 he's a little mean with it but you wouldn't have it any other way!! because that man knows what you need and will DELIVER. and he loves alllll of you. especially your pussy. and ass lol
DR RATIO .ᐟ୨୧ ok stay with me now cos this one's more of a scenario but!!! imagine that you haven't seen veritas in a while because you've both been busy but he messages you, saying how he'll finally be back soon!!! and ur just so excited that you can't contain it, and all those lonely nights are starting to tally up... your hands just don't do the trick any more and you finally cave, getting out your old reliable dildo to try and satiate your lust. trying your hardest to focus on veritas while you fuck yourself so that you'll be able to cum... pretending that it's his cock instead of some silicone... moaning out his name into your room with your eyes screwed shut to try trick your brain into believing that it's really him!! and it seems to work because you can feel that coil in you begin to tighten, and just when ur about to cum you feel a hand on top of yours, startling you out of your impending orgasm. and you open your eyes to see none other than the man who you had been fantasising about just now <3 and he's got this smirk on his face and a certain look in his eyes, and when you glance down you can see that he isn't exactly... unaffected from watching you earlier <33 i feel like he would degrade you a little, calling you such a stupid girl for needing to think of him just to even get close to cumming <333 and you'll whine and get embarrassed, trying to hide yourself with the covers, but deep down you know he's right so you peek at him from behind your lashes, batting them and begging him to help you as sweetly as you can. and how can he deny you when you're just so sweet and submissive for him? he'll be quick to take out his cock, slipping the head through your folds, letting it catch as it skims past your needy hole, letting the tip slap against your sensitive clit just to watch your whole body twitch as he chuckles to himself before bullying his cock into you. even after fucking yourself it's still a stretch, especially cos he has you in a mating press, his strong hands keeping your thighs pinned as he puts hisbweight behind his thrusts, really slamming into you until you're bouncing back against the mattress <33 a good hard fuck that hits all the right spots he needs to in order for you to cum HARD. but if he's feeling mean, he won't even oblige your request, instead being all smug and settling back on his haunches, goading you to keep going and make yourself cum without him because you're just so close, you can do it. watches your pathetic attempts to do so as you huff and beg him because you just can't without him <//3 and maybe if you beg hard enough he'll consider helping you out... even though it's just so entertaining to watch you keep trying. ironically enough, it's the way he calls you his sweet girl as he finally pushes into you that sends you over the edge more than any of your own touches did. and once you ride out that high, body no longer convulsing on his dick, he'll pull out of you just to flip you onto your stomach, then pull your hips up to meet his before fucking into you to make you really cum because of him this time <33
SAMPO .ᐟ୨୧ this man is MOST DEFINITELY an experimentalist!!! 1000% down for literally anything. you use toys on each other el oh el. the epitome of a switch. he'll top or bottom too, it's always a good time with him. definitely a freak. tbh i headcanon him as having a crazy oral fixation... if he's not sucking on your tits already then put your fingers in his mouth!! he'll have hearts swimming in his eyes, especially if you let them slide to the back of his throat until he gags and his eyes get all teary!!! definitely a sight to behold if u start fingerfucking his throat. or maybe just gag him with your panties, letting urself hear his muffled whines and moans as you finally free his cock and deepthroat him <33 oh god his whines and moans... get this man on twitter NEEOOOWWW. as a top he's definitely more goofy about it, not super strict. sex is about making sure you both feel good and just having a good time im his eyes.
GALLAGHER .ᐟ୨୧ ... this man... a certified freak. me personally im not into it but IF U LIKE ANAL THIS IS UR GUY 1000%%%. he def loves ur ass more than anything. the type to stick a finger in as he makes out with you or just let his finger tease the ring of muscle, circling it ever so slowly to feel u squirm while sat naked in his lap. when he eats you out he'll let his tongue drop a little lower to tease both of your holes. if u let him he'll eat your ass with GUSTO. and YES he's using toys on you you're not safe... buttplugs with the cute jewel on them and when you're in public he'll give your ass a slap or squeeze just to see your face change as you feel it press a little deeper into you... he'll have a vibrator fucking into your pussy as he's all up in your guts, laughing at the way you can't even form words right now. yeahhh he's a FREAK. oh and did i mention that he's an ass guy??
SUNDAY .ᐟ୨୧ ohohoho. this man has actual YEARS of pent up sexual frustration under his belt. his wings. whatever. he's a man who thrives off of control, and this is no exception in the bedroom. massive dom. both soft and hard. but more hard <3. really gets off on u calling him sir LAWLLL. lowkey i see him being into some real freaky bdsm stuff... cos hes got the whole sexually repressed catholic thing going on n all yknow. likes seeing u kneeled w your hands tied behind your back. you stripped naked while hes fully clothed and smiling so sweetly as he watches you try and get yourself off by humping his shoe. anything for that power imbalance with him hrrrrng. and if youre feeling a bit more bratty, touch his wings. preen them, blow air on them, even grip onto them HARD with your fingers and it'll get him all riled up. and then that sweet smiling facade will drop and youll see his eyes change into something a touch more feral as he pins u down and fucks u hard and properly. just to remind u who's really in control <3. the aftercare goes crazy, naturally. but then i also saw this post talking abt how hes a PEOPLE PLEASER and i agree 10000% so when he's feeling more soft, your pleasure is his greatest reward. a headrush mix of sweet praise and filthy degradation. telling you how you're a nasty bitch who's just so good for him... how you take him so well like the filthy slut you are.... and he's just so so composed during it all like an ANGEL EHFHWJFJE it makes ur head spin istg. yeah he's a freak in the sheets LOLL
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IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ...... eat it 'til your teeth rot!
[ SMUT ] how the hsr men eat pussy!
alternatively, find my hsr masterlist here! ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊
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mywritersmind · 23 days
Text
THE MOST GORGEOUS - LN4
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summary : Lando is convinced he’s found the love of his life during media day, embarrasses himself, and can’t stop flirting!!
listen up : flirty lando! pretend it rained in zandvoort🫨
word count : 616
“Carlos!” I hear the voice before I see him, and he definitely doesn’t see me because as he slides into the room he looks directly at his friend, “Carlos! Did you see that reporter!? Fucking hell, She’s the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen! And I saw her completely rage at-”
He spots me then.
I’m sitting in a corner, watching him talk about me. I have to say, My ego is extraordinarily boosted. His hands slap down to the side of his body, his eyes going wide.
I can’t help but laugh, “Hi.” I say, glancing at Carlos who’s already cracking up.
Lando puts his hand on the bridge of his bandaged nose, clearing his throat, he hesitantly looks back up at me, “Hello.”
“You know, I prayed for something comical to happen today! Thank you so much, mate!” Carlos slaps his friend on the back before making his way out, shaking his head at me, “See you!”
“Um…” Lando swallows, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t talking about you?” I’m normally not so self centered but I really believe he is talking about me.
“I saw you get escorted into the ‘no press’ area…” He nods, his lips in a thin line, “I was also the only woman in the media pen.”
“Right! Of course.” He leans his arm against a chair, using the other one to motion at me, “Well… Nice job yelling at Vowles.”
I smile and stand, pulling my skirt down a bit, “He deserved it.” I shrug and grab my purse and paddock pads.
“No doubt.” He watches me walk past, “Wait!” I turn and tilt my head, “Would you want to- get coffee?” he looks nervous.
“No… sorry.”
At this, he looks shocked at my blatant refusal, “Uh… That’s alright. Hey! I never got your name.”
I nod, “True.” I walk out and I hear him call after me.
“I’m Lando! By the way!”
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Great race today, Lando.” I say into the microphone as the man stands in front of me. He’s sweaty and holding onto his water for dear life.
I’ve never seen his eyes so blue. Not that I’ve seen much of him in person… I’m new to the interviewer game, made my way up slowly, “Easy to do well when I know you’re watching.”
He just won Max’s home race and apparently winner Lando is a very flirty being. I raise a brow, “How will you be celebrating tonight? Big party?”
He runs his hand over his mouth, “Nah… looking to hang out with someone special.” Is he… asking me out? Now!?
I clear my throat, trying to stay professional, “Sounds Lovely.”
“Hopefully it will be! If she says yes.” He’s looking directly into my eyes, my cheeks feeling hot.
“Mmm who would say no to Lando Norris?”
He licks his lips, “I know one person.” I shake myself out of it, remembering the camera facing him and the mic in my hand.
“So! I’m assuming you're pleased with tyre management today? Pretty wet track, Is that harder or more fun?”
His mouth pulls into a slow smirk and I know i’m doomed, “Prefer it wet after a few boring races.” He shrugs and I roll my eyes because I know what he’ll say next, “Quite slick today but nothing i’m not used to.”
His media manager taps his shoulder, letting us know time is up, “Have a good day celebrating, Norris.”
“Appreciate it, Y/n.” He winks and turns around. I sigh and turn the other way, praying my cheeks will cool down.
He knows my name.
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