#he didn't know he had a fascination with them

[takes1]

PLEASE I NEED MATSUKAWA OR KUNUMI OR EVEN MADDOG PLEASE IM BEGGING 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🙏

thankz ::3 -🩻

clingy!kentarou x reader (taming maddog)

heyyyy :) finally getting to this hope it's aight

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / riding maddog / 69 / obsessive!maddog / clingy!needy!maddog / possessive!maddog / loneliness theme / 'i can fix him' trope / libero!reader / johsai girls' team reader / maddog being canonically mean / implied virginity / experienced!reader / emotionally intelligent reader / emotionally stunted maddog / 3.6k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3

"(Y/n), like, I know you've got a type and all..."

"Mhmm," You follow absentmindedly, tracking your latest obsession like a hawk.

Number 16 was different- not just attractive, but he had a threatening, intense, sharp presence about him. He was just about the only member of the guys' team who didn't subscribe to a cheerful, cooperative environment. His little outburst earlier caught your attention, and he was currently benched for pushing Oikawa.

He sure was aggressive. You bit your lip and watched him stretch from the bleachers.

"But I heard he's actually crazy."

The other girls on your team would never understand what possessed you to put yourself in danger, going after the most deviant of guys you could find. It was an endearing joke amongst the team, at this point, but they did worry for your safety.

"What's his name?" You looked to them for the first time, mind already made up.

Whispers of Kentarou, Kyoutani, Maddog, were shared as you settled back to watching him. Lots of horror stories of him getting in trouble, getting into fights, yelling at teachers, other students, getting suspended for a time all encouraged you. The nickname he earned made you significantly more fascinated.

You could fix him. It would at least be fun to try.

You couldn't help but ponder where his true fault lied, how it twisted into so much unwarranted aggression.

Was he not held as a baby? Did he have a bad home life? Had it manifested into some kind of sexual dysfunction? You wondered if he was this big of a presence in the bedroom. You smiled at the strong possibility that he wasn't.

Maybe that was a bit Freudian of you to assume, but your previous diagnoses hadn't steered you wrong yet. The guys you slept with were all weirdos- losers- psychos- and yet, they were all a step closer to normal after a little love.

They couldn't stop you from approaching, especially when nobody had the guts to go anywhere near him.

"Hi," You tapped his shoulder after a bout of hesitation.

He looked to the side, then behind, and realized you were referring to him.

His brow fell from its subtle version of surprise, making all his features look heavier, meaner-- you shuddered.

"Yo." Was all he said.

Though dismissive and already uncomfortable, it was enough to work with.

You smoothed out your uniform with a nervous sigh, "Um- I'm sorry if this is forward, but,"

"I think you're really cute. I'd like to go on a date, sometime."

Kentarou looked angry even when he was shocked. The dark around his eyes made it impossible to look soft, and it seemed he didn't have the capacity to smile yet.

The only way you could deduce that he was embarrassed was the way his hands balled into fists at his sides, how he looked around your face over, over, and over again for an ounce of insincerity.

It was adorable. You giggled at his long silence.

Laughing shut him down. His mouth curled in a sneer, positive you were laughing at him.

The gaggle of girls, filling the entrance to the gym, all clad in your uniform, wasn't great for optics. It looked like you were playing a prank on him.

"Are you kiddin' me?" He rolled his eyes before you could even try to explain, "Go fuck yourself."

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Though you loved your team, visible swarms of women never put the guys you went after at ease.

That rejection was still tame for what you had seen before from him.

He put his back to you and crossed his arms, watching the game, instead. Getting benched and made fun of couldn't have been a great feeling.

Determined now, you shook out your nerves and tapped his shoulder again.

"Tch-! I said fuck off!" He scowled down at you, but you knew it was misguided. So it didn't hurt as bad.

You purposefully didn't mirror his body language- you didn't want him to cut him off even more. You stood facing him at an angle, trying to catch his eye and take his attention again.

Voice quiet, sweeter, genuine, "I'm serious."

Even if this was a joke, you were the most persistent he had ever seen. Nobody usually got this far. If he told somebody to leave, they did. Especially after the second time, and a girl, at that.

"I mean- I get it if you're not into short girls, that's totally fine," You fixed your hair, glancing away from his overwhelmed, slow expression, "But, please, just... think about it. Here's my number."

For a moment, you were unsure if he would take the paper in your hand. He gave you zero indication that he believed your story, but after just enough time to make you doubt, he took it.

Kentarou held it tight, confused, as you joined your team to leave the gym. He watched them look over and preen you like birds to make sure you weren't hurt.

It could've been a real confession. The gravity of it didn't truly land until he was back home, looking up the girls' team Instagram to find your personal handle. You were following the page and even had a few features in their posts.

Doubts began to grow that it was your real number. He decided he didn't want to use it.

Instead, he lay on his bed, palming himself to the poses of your greatest receives- you were such a pretty girl, with a nice body, cute face--reminded of those things now, it only made him more skeptical at your choice to speak to him.

Luck was on his side once again, because your own profile was public. You even had a few beach posts. Lots of likes, lots of followers. You wouldn't notice if he liked a few of them, unless you were being honest about your interest.

You were all over his signals in a flash.

A follow, a bit of page-stalking that got you nowhere (because he had 0 online presence, other than a couple blank accounts), and a long string of messages that went deep into the night, all earned you a date.

Now that the game had officially begun, you needed to curate each move carefully. If you waited too long to take advantage of any clear signs of interest, he wouldn't find you worth the trouble. You needed some dick.

Kentarou was lonely, too.

It was as you suspected, monitoring him during that practice match. People who had a good support system didn't act that way he did.

He wasn't wistful, or desperate, and didn't invite friendship. Shit, he barely let you court him, and the only way you could convince him to meet you for coffee was if you sent a few pictures 'to prove it was just you.' And yet, after the one misunderstanding, he didn't deny you any opportunity to get close.

His experiences shaped him to be incredibly firm, mistrusting, and overly cautious, yes; It all fell short though, when it came to the very simple, universal longing for companionship.

The cafe wasn't too quiet, thankfully.

You were most worried about the possibility of him causing some sort of commotion and being asked to leave, but other patrons were lively enough to drown him out, if he did raise his voice.

To your surprise, that also wasn't much of an issue.

He ordered for the two of you, even -begrudgingly- accepting that you wanted a more intricate drink, too. He didn't let you do much for yourself. When he told you to go find a seat while he waited at the counter, you stayed with him so you could be close. He still didn't argue.

Though he wasn't polite, he wasn't a monster. He was just brimming with attitude, and that rubbed people the wrong way. When unprovoked, he was mean-looking, sure, but docile.

A predatory gaze watched the skirt of your casual dress flutter up- just a little, not quite enough- as you sat down next to him with your elaborate drink in hand. He set his cup down and you felt his leg flex as you closed the distance to snuggle up to him.

"You're taking this joke pretty far."

Insecurity filled the quiet between his words, and it took a sensitive ear to detect under all the venom. Was he testing you? Probably. Was he still trying to protect himself? Absolutely.

"Mm," You considered how to respond while sipping on your coffee, staring forward, not really minding his intensity, "I don't have the kind of time to go on fake dates, you know."

It was an argument less emotional in nature, but due to its legitimacy, it left him stumped enough to drop the subject.

In its wake remained discomfort. Mostly at your thigh, busy rubbing against him as you pretended to be more invested in the ambience of the cafe, or the flavor of the drink in your hands.

"What're you doing it for?" He pressed, different, but still carried with a grumbly, shitty attitude he always spoke in.

That took some getting used to, but once you understood he just talked that way, you were able to take his words at face value and waste less time miscommunicating.

A warm hand, palming the squish of your bare thigh encouraged your desire to be honest.

You waited for him to stop scanning the cafe, for the right moment to tell him.

His eyes dipped first to your pretty thighs, all soft and warm and new in his hand. Then he was taken by the all the sweetness in the way you looked at him.

"I wanna sleep with you."

You expected him to not believe you, like the first time, but his surprise was now pretty conventional.

His mouth hung open, just a little, and you noticed a tongue piercing. How did you miss it before? Did he not wear it at school? Your thighs tightened and he met it with a firm squeeze as he took a sobering drink of his coffee.

It was obvious he wanted to know why. But he was looking for something better to say, instead.

"The fuck are we doing here?"

That was a good question. Such a good question, in fact, that after a bit of conversation about where to go to fuck, you landed on going back to your place.

He made himself comfortable on your bed as you shut the door and locked it, just in case. Your room didn't have a whole lot of conversation starters, so he took a while to really examine it.

He wasn't witty, or spontaneous, or chatty.

There was no value in sitting around, acting like you wanted to delve into a discussion about each other's families, or grades, or volleyball.

His brow softened as you dropped the straps of your dress down.

There was a small attempt to look you in the eye, which you appreciated in a very limited context, but once you kept going, he might as well have been wearing a collar.

A half-sigh, half-laugh pushed out of his open mouth, brow furrowed again, as he tried to speak a few times while you posed for him, drunk on such a cute, endearing reaction.

There were a lot of things for him to think about. You could almost smell the smoke of grinding gears when you stood in front him and rubbed your hands against his shoulders.

He kept getting his fill, eyes unable to stay in one place too long, practically trying to back up so he could keep looking at all of you.

You giggled, "Kentarou?"

His breath stopped. You couldn't feel it, tingling across your skin, anymore.

You took some fingers to his curly hair, playing with it, "Aren't you gonna touch me?"

"I-," He didn't know what to do with himself for a moment, "Where?"

Your charmed, bitten back smile made his ears bright, bright red. Instead of telling him, you settled onto his lap and felt for his hands, gently guiding them towards your hips.

It was slow, natural, and gentle how you decided to kiss him.

You could feel how heated he was, with one hand on the back of his neck, the other cooling off the side of his face. One second to part for some breath, which he needed, badly- you waited for him to say something.

But he was forcing his mouth back onto yours quicker than you thought he would- his fingers dug into your flesh, and he brought you down onto his hard-on with a sudden loss of reservation.

It didn't take long to start catching that little tongue piercing against your lip- you groaned against his mouth, "Fuck, I really like that."

He was a fast, eager, and very rough learner. Kentarou was also laughably easy to please, because it was obvious he had no preferences built up yet. Everything you did left him stunned and hungry.

You reveled in your private victory and helped him undress. He wasn't shy about his own body, but you made it clear that he had a nice figure by taking the time to kiss along his muscular arm, then shoulder, and up to his neck.

His quickness to mirror you, kissing the same places on your body, was cute. He never once smiled, but he showed his investment in other ways.

When you offered to 69, he immediately fell onto his back from his upright position, rubbing his warm face.

A weak, "Yes," from under his palms was all you got, but it was so sweet from a guy like him. He sounded broken in, in a way.

You pressed a deserving kiss to his jaw and turned around.

His cock looked just as angry as he was, normally. Twitchy, leaking a bit of precum on his toned tummy, tinged dark with the all the time it had been waiting.

"You're- so fuckin' wet," He sounded stunned to say that aloud, understand what it actually meant, and that he was obsessed with it.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to the base of his cock as you settled into a good position.

How long had it been since you got laid? Apparently too long, because you were dripping with anticipation at the salty taste of his tip sliding past your teeth.

That was the downside of having such a specific type. Not many options.

He was still figuring out how to use his own mouth when you took the breath out of him- a strangled gasp at the sound, the sensation of your lips and tongue sucking off the slickness there. You held him by the base, briefly.

"You should let me know if you like it," You teased, just before bobbing your head back down.

"Mm-mmnh-! Fuck! Do I-ahh, have to?"

With that whiny tone?

You slowly came back up, careful to leave no spit behind. He was flexing in your jaw, his stomach twitching against your chest. Poor thing wouldn't last very long, he was so sensitive.

"Uhh, yes," You grinned, tongue darting out to lick him all the way down his shaft.

"Fuuuck- whatever- augh, just keep doin' that," His groan broke into a murmur of sorts, against your pussy.

From there, he was starting to find what worked with you. It was curious, and not great, but you didn't need it to be; something about the clingy way he held you, the shift in his attitude, was making you feel like you could take him already.

It made your nails dig, deep into his thighs, your already sparse breath grow a bit shorter.

Though his desperate tone and slow, gentle tongue made some parts of you tighten, it helped your throat relax and take more of him.

He started to come apart long before you wanted to be done.

Breathy, incomplete "Stopstop-sta-aah," every twenty seconds flattered you, letting you take more frequent breaks to ride his face and break in that little metal ball.

You thought about his nickname during one of these breaks. It was one of those instances where it seemed fitting, but for more than just surface-level aggression.

Nothing about him scared you. Not after you showed him that you had no ill-intention. He was like a dog. He wasn't vicious because it was in his nature; he just had a thorn in his paw.

He 'bit' people because they didn't give him a chance.

All of these chances you were giving him proved that he was worth all the effort to get close. It wasn't even much work, in hindsight.

You showed him the mechanics of the condom you brought for the occasion, and managed to talk him through some important sex-centered courtesies.

"So, y'know, you'll want to yield to whatever she's ready for--,"

Kentarou kept you from sitting on his cock, for just a second-- his eyes grew narrow, darting around your face.

"You mean: 'you.'" He corrected.

He looked like he was about to bite through your face.

"Right!" You smiled, growing a bit warm at your inconsiderate slip in language, "Yeah, of course."

Your apologetic kisses, smattered all along his sensitive face and neck, calmed him. His grip softened, slowly, as he became convinced that this was sacred again.

As you started to take him, he forgot all about it.

"Aughh- my go-d," He couldn't stop watching where you came together with a knotted brow, at how slick, and tight, and hot you were.

Your confidence read in the form of slow, rolling motions of your hips, the cloudy look in your eyes as you were finally getting filled up again after such a dry spell of no dick. You put your hands over his, already on your hips, and encouraged him to squeeze harder.

"Mmn-ah-h," You placed your hands on his chest, to keep yourself upright.

It hurt, how much he reciprocated that squeeze, but you quickly learned to like the sting.

Like most everything else, he replicated what you showed him. He started fucking you back, his hips able to take you faster, harder--

The pretty little pout on your lips was enough to make him screw his eyes shut, just to try to settle down.

He was getting so worked up at your tight little cunt that he was forced to let you keep your slower pace, contribute a little less, for fear he'd finish too soon.

His breath was like a stutter- so shallow and huffy that you rubbed your hand across his cheek, to check if he was okay. As you did this, the look in his eyes burned into the back of your skull.

You had seen that somewhere before. Not in someone you knew personally.

"Mm-mnh-!"

You were careful not to look away from it, and you only closed your eyes when it was too intense, too good to see straight.

The way he gripped you was like a lifeline, clawing, leaving rough and raised lines across you-- It wasn't intended to hurt, but more or less to make sure he left you with some lasting impression. He didn't understand that he didn't need to do it.

He couldn't take the concern on your face. Not as you fucked him so close, not with that perfect body taking his cock so well. Nobody ever looked at him with so much warmth.

"Ah! Just- just like that," You gasped, shaky all of a sudden.

"Fuck-," He sighed, suddenly having to remember what exactly he was doing.

He grimaced, face twisted in the pain of trying not to cum, head thrown back so he didn't have to look at you.

But your hand left his chest to grasp him by the jaw- it wasn't hard, but it was enough to move him. You begged him to look at you. You wanted him to watch you, and it looked like he was just short of a confessing something sinful.

Worship.

That's what you saw. In those narrowed eyes were praise, an exaltation of the love you had spared for him.

It filled you with a dizzying, raw confidence- you took in a breath through your nose, getting railed so hard, so close that your eyes started watering.

"Fuck- I'm-Ah--!" You couldn't quite finish your sentence before you crashed over, your body seized up, firm, grabbing and gripping him like you needed, wanted him so bad.

It left him a groveling, panting mess underneath you. He was watching in awe just like you told him to, only allowed to cum after you were done.

He fucked it all out of you, thanks to the timing. Your slow wave-riding kept you pleasant and buzzed as he fucked you hard for his own orgasm.

You even egged him on, breathless, a little smirk only interrupted by a pleasurable wince a couple of times.

"You wanna cum for me?"

"Yeah? Yeah?"

After finishing so loud and performative, nothing could have prepared you for how cuddly and silent he got.

You shouldn't have given into the desire to hug him, because he wouldn't let you move to pull him out.

"Mm-mm," Was pressed in a sloppy kiss against your neck.

Those muscular arms were shaking a little, just barely, around your waist.

"I'm- not going anywhere," You laughed, returning a few light kisses against his temple, "But we need to clean up."

He made it difficult, almost impossible, to separate and throw the condom away. You opted to just tie in a knot and throw it closer to the trash can so you didn't have to get up.

The way he watched you was careful, intense, looking for any opening to get closer to you again.

You finally sighed, smiling, "Okay."

Kentarou pulled you back down to lay next to him at the soonest opportunity. He kept an arm heavy over your chest, his leg kicked between yours, his eyes never leaving the side of your face.

His intensity was what you signed up for, but now, warm under his persistent and acute attention, you realized: maybe you hadn't thought this through the whole way.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu

[skyfallscotland]

🐉 ONYX STORM PROLOGUE, CHAPTERS ONE & TWO MY THOUGHTS: (god bless the dutch 🇳🇱)

So not totally verified yet, but it seems legit. This is absolutely the scene I expected us to be starting with, and despite the translation it does read like Rebecca. Thank you so much to @thestarseternaal for sharing it with me! You can find it here.

Ok, let's fucking goooooo! 🤘

· That trigger warning list? "The death of an animal" 💀😬 The "descriptions of sexual acts" though, thank god, though it's not looking promising for the two of them so far.

· Garrick and Bodhi KNOW?! Ok that I didn't see coming?

· "I can't blame him for wanting to know what he is" ANDARNA 😭 "I'm as much in the dark as he is, and you trust me." 😭 I want to hug the baby

· "Magic feels different when I change colours. When I used my power, it was like the venin transformed, weakening-" Ok so confirmed, she's the solution they're looking for *sigh*

· It's going to be unfortunate if the allies we're seeking are just Poromiel, and I think they are given both the excerpt prior to the prologue and the fact the Target edition map had only a few places in Poromiel on it and no Isles. I guess we're not looking for Andarna's family over there until books four and five? 😞

· Wait...what? Leadership knows what Andarna is? Everyone knows? Who TF told them? I was certain they didn't see? I can't believe we spent all this time worrying about people knowing she was a baby when she bonded and y'all just told everyone she was a super special rare breed right off the bat. SMDH.

· Aotrom's only 22? 😭 I'm older than Aotrom? RIDOC and him are the same age, that makes so much sense!!

· TAIRN CALLS XADEN "THE DARK ONE"? 😭 I feel like I'm not going to like Tairn much this book, and I feel like he's gonna ☠️ but that's for my theory post.

· "His soul is no longer his own" "That's a bit dramatic." VIOLET I LOVE YOU 🖤

· "You mean whether I'll support you in the thousand ways you want to face death to heal someone who's beyond redemption?" Oh Tairn...why do I get the really, really bad feeling you lied about Naolin?

· The truth-sayers have let Caroline Ashton off the hook? Hmmmm suspicious. Everyone's evil, I just know it.

· "Devera and Kaori will be back soon. They’ll straighten out the command structure once the princes have signed a treaty that hopefully grants us grace for even leaving in the first place." Ummm princes plural? So I guess Cam hid for nothing? Well not nothing, but he's...back with his fam? Also why would they be signing shit? Where's the damn king?!

· "The rarest signet, which appear once per generation or century, have been documented twice simultaneously with an equal counterpart, both during critical times in our history, but only once have the six most powerful walked the Continent at the same time. As fascinating as that spectacle must have been, I would rather not witness it again in my lifetime. – A study of signets by Major Dalton Sisneros" Ok could be a weird translation but I'm confused by this. The counterpart thing could be either a rider and a venin (ie. one of the venin can distance wield and we're getting a distance wielder) or dark and light, ie. shadows and light. Also six like the first six and they all had partners within themselves? Three pairs? Or? What even were their signets because I can't believe we've NEVER FUCKING ASKED? I've literally never seen that mentioned and it seems...so fucking relevant.

· Perhaps a more outlandish theory, but I think the venin with the silver hair who distance wields might be Xaden's mother. I'll elaborate later, but 😬😬

· Ok well, 1. I'm fucking crying already, and 2. "Even if I reached the rank of Maven, led armies of dark wielders against everyone we care about, and if I had to watch every vein in my body turn red because I had drained all the powers of the Continent, I would still love you. What I’ve done doesn’t change that. I don’t know if that’s even possible." That's a little bit storm in the quiet, I love it when the vibe is proven ✨correct✨ 😭 @justallihere

So all in all, 1. As expected, every excerpt, hint, and thing we've thought about it over in one-two chapters, 2. This is going to hurt so bad and I think it will go as I expected, and 3. I'm still not ready 😭

Send help 🥺

[ziminy]

Nightshift pt.3

Having them as roommates was a problem

Tags: smut, mdni, ageless and blank blogs will be blocked, explicit language, f!reader, college au, Gojo and Geto as housemates , jealousy (again), filming, fingering, oral (f and m giving and receiving), public s[e]x (in the car) , panty stealing, crying, hand job, double penetration, threesome, hair pulling, edging, overall just me going feral again,

Author's note: I'll be honest with everybody in here, I'm embarrassed by what I'm writing. My creativity surprises me sometimes.

Author's note(again, sorry): I wanted to post it sooner but I'm busy with school and shit. My classes are in the morning and I'm this close on dropping everything for some sleep 🤏 (I wrote this a few months ago and all I can say is that life is so much better after dropping out.)

Pt1 Pt2 masterlist roommatesmasterlist

Life is strange. It's amusing the way it works. Fascinating, you could even say. Goofy, perhaps. But a thing was clearly, as long as you're housemates with Gojo and Geto you'll never live a peaceful day ever again.

Truly strange.

And you can't even figure it out when it all started, because now it's just normal. Your worries flew out the window a long time ago. Did you think that your relationship was weird? Yes. But it's not that unusual if you don't think about it.

You were anxious because they were anxious. Their weird energy got to you, that's why you ran away. Or maybe your thoughts got to them and now it was this game where everyone goes back and forth for nothing. Fighting over things that aren't even that deep to begin with. Conversation will always be the key. And if you know how to use it, then you'd have access to so many doors in life.

That's some philosophical talk, and we don't do stuff like that in this house. It was an idiot trying to show how dumb the other is, even if they share the same brain cells. Everyone were dumbasses in here. No one knew how to communicate or use the so called keys. Everyone were on their own trying to do what they know the best.

It's complicated. What is right and what is wrong? What made you so irresistible that made those hungry wolves to want to eat you alive? What made you so gorgeous that they couldn't take their eyes away? What made them want to compete with each other when they used to share women like air, changing the person next to them like socks. Here's a lady, and now another.

No one wanted to share anymore. All they wanted to do was to prove that one can have you more than the other. A competition with no start and finish line until you decide to make it stop. Which one you liked more? Which one made you stay up at night or make your pussy wet by just thinking of him?

Which one did popped up in your head first? Did you touched yourself think of someone? The thoughts could go on and on. It was truly amusing the way they didn't try to talk to you. Only make fantasies in their heads while observing you. So small, so cute. So ready to take that cock right now.

One had to do the first move on proving something that it doesn't need to be proved. Someone will cry, someone will laugh. One will end up victorious while the other will be sad. It can be both of them who's crying. It can be a whole another mf that gets you in the end.

Someone need to do something. Quick. Fast. Just hurry up.

And the one who did the first move was Gojo. Just the way he asked you to move in with him, he was also the one that made the decision on what's going to happen next.

It was simple. It wasn't even a move to get you. It was more to piss Geto off. It was to annoy his friend with the fact that he fucks you when he's out. It was to show him that you're having so much fun when he's not home. It was an audio of your sweet moans opened at the wrong time.

Geto didn't had the time to check his phone when he was out. Now that he got home, he walked in the kitchen, ready to eat something with you and his other housemate. He sat down on his chair, took a few bites and then press play on what his friend sent him. Moans. Everyone stopped and turned their heads on the dark haired man.

"Suguru, you dirty bastard." Satoru laughed. You looked in shook. You didn't even recognize the voice of who ever was that on his phone.

"Satoru, why would you send that?"

"Satoru???" you looked at the white haired man and all he did was to laugh.

It was just the start. Next time Geto received a video.

It started with Gojo placing his phone on the kitchen counter, facing you who was washing the dishes. He left his phone there and walked behind you, kissing you softly as his hands went down on you. You only sighed. You stopped whatever you were doing for him. His hands already in your pants, fingers rubbing your clit slowly. Your soft sounds, the way you let him do what he wanted to do. Suguru's eyes were fixed on the screen. He wanted to turn up the volume so bad, to hear you. He wanted to listen to your voice. And then the video stopped with Satoru fucking you with his fingers, his eyes moving on the camera, smirking.

Fucking hell.

How unfortunate for him to be away from home. Why does he have to be out here instead of being in that damn house.

So he waited. He waited until he got home. He waited a few days for his dear friend to go away, to just be out this house so he could get his hands on you.

Ohoho. And when he did.. He placed his phone on the couch, to face your lower half, getting in the picture your thighs and him who was in between your legs, eating you out.

He was doing it with so much passion only to make you loud. To make you clearly shake for the camera to capture it. To make your hands go in his hair so hesitantly, not knowing if you should pull at it or not, if you could even touch him. His arms were flexed, looking so big compared to your body. He was doing it intentionally, he even did a few pushed ups before he even pressed the record button.

He didn't wait for the sun to shine at the right angle for nothing. Everything was calculated, from the way the camera captures your body, to the best place in the house.

And it sure did backfired at Gojo, who was staring impatiently at the clock. When can he go home? When can he see you himself? That fucker. He thinks he can play his game? The game Satoru started? To think that he's the one jealous now.

And here was the plan for the other video the white haired man did. Or this is how it went.

Skin against skin. Usually he would have been scared of crushing you with his weight, but today? His body on top of yours, chest against chest. Your bare skin touching him with nothing in the way, your legs wrapped around his waist. Whenever you or him tried to get a little away, someone dragged the other back. Your nails into his back, holding into him like your life depended on it. Everything felt so intimate. The way you looked at him. Those big eyes that Geto calls ugly. That dumb little smile. You looked in love. In love? No. It can't be. Can you even love to begin with?

Is this what made you happy? Playing this gentleman of a man? Someone who will hold you tight in moments like this? I mean, who doesn't. But did you really liked it that much?So much that you'd look at that guy he calls his friend like you've been in love with him all your life? You're not even doing anything, just kissing, you're bodies being pressed against each other.

He had to try it himself.

Just like before. He waited for the right moment, then acted his plan up. Because if he'll get interrupted or wake up with an unwanted guest he'll go nuts.

He wasn't horny. He wasn't even in the mood to do something today, all he wanted to see was if you were like in that stupid video.

He sat at the edge in your bed, watching you getting your clothes off, never taking his eyes of you, always making you stay in front of him where he can see you better. His hands carefully placed on you, slowly dragging you into his arms.

He kissed your jaw, your neck, his hands all over your body. Just wanting to feel your skin, the warmth you gave him. How you looked so different compared to him. You were glowing, you were like a flower carefully placed in a field full of sunlight. And he was the moon who wanted to take all that happiness. The way you smiled under that damn sun, he wanted to take that away.

"Suguru.." you said his name so lovely. He was really going to bite you.

"Kiss me." he ordered. He wanted you to do a wrong move so he could punish you for looking so warmly. You let him in your arms so easily. It made him mad.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. It was so quick that he bearly even noticed.

"You call that a kiss?" he wrapped his arms around you and let himself fall down in bed, dragging you along with him. You yelped. You closed your eyes by how suddenly that was.

Skin against skin, huh? To hold you so close that you basically become a part of him.

He just got an idea.

He wrapped his hands around you while you were on top of him, trying your best to not fall into him. All he did was to tease you. His mouth on your chest, kissing and biting your nipples. One of his hands on your ass while the other was rubbing your back. Making you move your hips without even think on him. What he needed was you all needy for him.

And when he finally got you all desperate, he opened his camera, acting all nonchalant. Acting like he does this on a daily basis, like he have you all over him like this.

"You want me that bad?" he was a good actor, or at least that's what he thought.

"Stop playing with me. I need it right now." his heart skipped a beat, and so did Satoru's when he saw the video. The way you looked down at Suguru. The way you moved his pants to let his cock free, almost jumping on it instantly. It was his laughter that made you stop for a moment. You were frustrated, and you made sure to let him know about your feeling by looking angrily at him. He played with you for so long, you can't even count the minutes he played with your pussy. Fingering you so good and then stopped right when you were so close. He did this so many times that you don't trust a single word he says anymore. "You think it's funny?" you finally got his dick inside you. And oh, you're not going to stop until you get to actually cum this time.

"If you wanted me that much you should have said it earlier." he moved his hips forward, to help you. And to help himself.

"Dickhead." you slapped his chest softly. You couldn't listen to his words even if you wanted to. All you did was to move your hips, you needed any kind of friction. Anything that would calm the aching between your legs. Anything that would finally make you cum.

Your hand went between your legs, rubbing your clit, and biting your lip, refusing to let any sounds out that might feed his ego.

"Y/N." he looked in your eyes. He moved your hand away and he started to rub your clit. All you did was to gasp. "Focus. Move your hips like you mean it." this fucker. All he got from you were some little curses you let under your breath and you moving your hips better.

That video ended with you almost cumming. So close that it got Gojo gasping when he saw how fast the video ended. He didn't got to see you cum? The disrespect. The audacity. The idea he just got.

For the first time since you live there, Gojo call you in his room and placed you on his bed. Until now it was your room or any other place around the house. Anywhere but his own bed.

You never thought you'll get to sit in his bed like this. To get to do the forbidden tango in his room.

He got in bed next to you, placing you on his lap nice and cozy, your back pressed against his chest. "Hold this for me, ok?" he handed you his phone.

"What do you want me to do with it?" you asked unsure. You knew he was filming your little escapades for quite some time now, but to hand you the camera himself?

"Film it. Do whatever you want with it. Show me what you want me to see." you got a little unsure there.

"Alright.." you noticed that it was already recording before you thought of something. The camera was facing your face, capturing Gojo behind you. You moved it lower, now facing your chest, not even sure what he wanted to see.

His hands on your hips, slowly getting his dick inside your pussy. That warm thight pussy he loved so much. "Am I doing good?" his hand moved overs yours, moving the camera lower to film how it looked with his cock inside you.

"Make sure to capture everything." Suguru looked at his phone without any words. It didn't matter what Gojo might think of doing next, Geto haves to be the one with the better idea.

And another video was made.

Geto offered to buy the groceries. It was supposed to be Gojo's time this week, and how could he refuse someone else doing his chores for him? And so, Suguru dragged you with him.

The surprise look on Satoru's face to receive an video when you just left half an hour ago. You on top of Suguru in his car, because the dark haired man took Gojo's car for this quick trip. His excuse was that he mistook the keys with his.

He would had expected that video any time, but not today. Not like this. Not when he was took of guard. He couldn't help but look at the screen and turn the volume up.

You're half muffled moans and Geto praising the shit out of you. "Good girl, just like that." and you couldn't help but bounce on him faster. "Keep it slow now, we wouldn't want someone to notice us." oh, but he was actually dying inside for someone to see you two. Both of your roommates hoped for you to get caught.

"Suguru.." you moaned that name so sweetly. Honestly, Satoru was so jealous right now. If he knew sooner, he wouldn't had let someone else do his chores for him. He could have been in that car and fuck you.

He waited for you to come home. He sat right in front of the entrance, waiting for that fucker to appear. He needed to think of something even better. How about fucking you in Suguru's bed? Or making you wear his clothes to make his friend jealous? Even fuck you in them just to prove a point. Bath you in his perfume so you would smell like him. There was so many options.

And he got an even better idea.

He let you rest for that day. No, he let you rest for the rest of that week. Waiting for the perfect day, the perfect moment.

"It's my turn to do the laundry." Geto sighed. "You got anything else left in your rooms? Give it now." Gojo smiled and shook his head.

"I have nothing in my room." you said.

"Me neither."

"Alright then." he waited for Geto to get started with his work, then he dragged you in his room. He was so impatient that he didn't know what to do faster. He was taking your clothes off, his clothes, kissing you, rubbing that pretty pussy so you would get wet faster. He was so impatient that he didn't even prepared you first, the moment you layed on his bed he got in between your legs, forcing his cock inside your pussy. It hurts a little, but it also hurts his pride not being able to outdo his friend.

He's number one. He's the biggest person here.

He got his phone out as soon as he could move better, pressing the record button as fast as he could.

He was thrusting into you, not even once letting you breathe in peace. "You're pussy feels so good." that's all he could say. "Sucking me in like this." what he got in return was a photo of your underwear. A photo where Geto was holding some pairs of panties that he could recognize them in a instant, they were yours.

"I don't think Y/N would mind if I take some of these." Gojo stared at his phone screen. Tsk. He wasn't satisfied with the reaction he got.

"I'll keep the pair that I just took off her." Geto looked displeased at his phone screen. Would his friend be happy if he just barge in there and auto invite himself in? He didn't do that in the end, he already had other things to do. And if he just go there, Gojo would be the winner because that means he gave in.

"Alright, I don't what's going on between you two but I want you to stop." you went the next day in the kitchen, ready to put an end to this endless fighting of theirs. "I know you've been filming and sending the videos to one another, and I want this to end because this is going nowhere." you sighed. "If you want photos that much you should have asked me instead of fighting."

"You'll send me pictures of you if we stop fighting?" Gojo asked like he didn't heard what you just said. He ignored everything until you said that last sentence.

"That's not what I said."

"You said that you would." Geto totally listened to you, but again, he only understands what he wants.

"Did you even listen to me?"

"So, if we get along again and we stop filming you'll do it?" you could only sigh. These guys were so delusional that you couldn't even talk to them like normal people.

"Alright." you didn't even tried anymore, giving up was the best option.

"Is that an yes?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's good because we weren't fighting to begin with." Geto's words left you in disbelief. Huh?

"Ye, we just like to show what we're doing. Nothing much." Gojo said nonchalantly.

"Why didn't you said that earlier?"

"I was waiting for you to finish talking."

"Alright, so. For starter I want to get photos of your boobies. Some videos of you touching yourself here and there to make my day going when I'm tired. I want that pussy fully on display." Gojo already started a list.

"You could send me a picture right now." Geto's words didn't helped the situation.

"Show me what nudes you have in your phone." Satoru got next to you, trying to see your phone and what's in there.

It was your fault for thinking they're normal, because they're not, not at all.

Fortunately for you, your days became more peaceful. You kept your words to send them some pics now and then, and they stopped competing with each other. Oh, and don't think that you could send them the same picture, because they would get mad.

You hated there, but you gotta learn how to live with it, because you were also receiving stuff from them. A dick pic whenever they missed you, even some videos of them touching themselves moaning your name. It was just crazy. It never fails to make your jaw drop.

But your days came back to normal, no? Whatever normal even means anyway.

You woke up on another peaceful morning, because it was quiet and no one disturbed your sleep. You got up from your bed and went in the kitchen. Just wanting to feel their company there, maybe exchange some small talk and then fall asleep since you feel rather tired and lonely. Instead, you saw your house mates with another guy. A tall blonde guy who looked older than both of them.

You didn't know what to say, you just stood there trying to think of your next move. Go back to your room, it was none of your business, you shall not get involved.

"Oh? I didn't know you're up." the white haired man said before you could go back to bed.

"Good morning." Suguru greeted you, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Good morning." you quietly said.

"Don't go just now. Come here." can you get a break? You did as he said, you went and sat down at the table at your usual spot. "Y/N, this is Nanami." Gojo said.

"Nice to meet you." you didn't know what to do.

"Nanami, this is our sweet Y/N." Satoru said it with this weird smile on his face. You had no idea what was going on in his head. Can he not embarrass you for once? You and Nanami sighed at the same time.

"I'm sorry for him. He usually behaves like this so I have no excuse." you said in Gojo's behalf.

"I don't expect much from him anyway." you studied the blonde a little. The expensive watch that was on his wrist, and the nice fancy shirt he had on. He had big shoulders, his muscles could be seen even through his clothes. His posture was flawless, everything about his screamed perfection. You didn't mean to stare, but he was definitely eye catching.

Your housemates were watching you. Who's fault was it for getting Kento here? They should have thought of how you'll react first.

They're jealous again.

They just managed to calm themselves and now it's starting again. This again, this again and again. Can they ever take a break?

Was this what you wanted? A guy like him? What's so perfect about Nanami, huh? Was it how he present himself? He looks tired, like he haven't slept in who knows how long. And yet, that didn't stopped him from dressing like usually or doing what he's supposed to do.

He looks like he was working a 9 to 5, and would treat you right. He looks like he would buy you flowers on a daily basis. He looks like he would remember all those small dates where it supposed to be an anniversary or someone's birthday. He looked like he was there to stay and put a ring on your finger. Was this what you wanted? A husband who would help you raise the kids properly?

Both Gojo and Geto gasped at the same time, they did a big mistake.

"Y/N, no." Satoru finally said something when he came back to reality. He haves to do something now so you won't end up married. Especially to Nanami, he looked like he would be perfect, that's what scares him the most.

"Y/N, go to sleep. It's too early for you." you looked confused at both of them. They told you stay there in the first place.

"Huh?" you looked at them in disbelief.

"Just go."

"Alright..?" you got up from your seat and went back to your room. What a bunch of weirdos.

That day, they promised to become just like the enemy, so that way you won't be impressed by some random fucker out there.

Their plan would fail so miserable, like always, but you can't do shit about it. It's not like you can figure their next move to stop them.

You walked out your room to get something to drink, only to be welcomed by them dressed like they were going to a job interview.

You looked at them, blinked a few times then looked behind you. No cameras or anything, or at least you can't see it. Was this some kind of prank? Was it some kind of special day today?

"You're speechless by how handsome I look, huh?" you blinked a few times. "No need to be shy, admire me as much as you need." Gojo striked a few poses.

"What's the occasion?" you asked getting closer to them.

"I always dress like this." the way Suguru lied with a straight face.

"You do? This is the first time I see you like this." you fixed Gojo's tie. "Do I need to wear a dress or something?"

You got dragged in your room and placed on the bed while they were looking in your closet. They put their hands on everything they saw, bras, panties and anything they could find. It didn't matter. If they see it, they'll get their hands on it.

"So what are we doing?" you asked.

"Playing dress up, isn't it obvious?" Gojo got something in his hands and got closer to your bed. "Hands up." he took your shirt off.

"I don't really see anything for you to try." Geto was still looking through your clothes.

"Let me get those down for you." Satoru took your pants off. His hands traveling back to your panties, wanting to take those off too.

"These stays on."

"Nuh uhh." he tried dragging your panties down, only for you to try to pull them up.

"Let me do it." you tried to protest.

"No." he slapped your hand. "We're playing dress up. Get those off and let me choose another pair for you." you gasped at his actions. Did he really just slapped your hand away?

"Satoru." Geto said something, making you to breathe reassured. "Move away. I'll do it." these fuckers. What could you expect.

"Alright, alright! I'll take them off myself." their eyes on you, you got their full attention. You raised your hips and with a simple move you took your panties off. Your actions will always work like magic on them. The way they're so captivated by such a simple movement.

"Put them back on." Satoru said, his eyes still on your skin. The scene from earlier replaying in his mind over and over again.

"You told me to take them off. Why would I have to put them back on?" you could only complain because of how childish this situation was.

Geto got on his knees in front of you, picking the small material that you just took off. "Get up." he commanded.

Can they stop playing with you for at least a moment? You did as he said tho, you got up and you couldn't do much since your way was blocked by the dark haired man. A kiss placed on your lower stomach before he put your underwear back on you. Your hands were on his shoulders, trying to hold yourself from falling.

"Not fair." Satoru dragged you back on your bed. Your back pressed against the blanket and Gojo in between your legs. He got your panties in between his teeth, slowly dragging them down and tossing it somewhere around the room.

"What got into you two again?" it was something sinister about how they look at you. Their eyes dark and filled with some kind of lust you didn't saw it before. It was normal for you to be horny, it was normal for them too, but now it was different. You had no idea if your insides would be rearranged or you'll have the sweetest time of your life. It scared you.

Gojo was breathing against your pussy, hot breath touching your skin over and over. It made you squirm a little. While Geto's hand went through your hair, moving it from your face. He sat down next to your head, his thumb slowly getting in your mouth, giving you something to occupy yourself with.

"Guys?" their silence was scaring you. All you hoped was that you could still walk tomorrow.

Satoru finally got his face in your pussy, he was practically making out with it. Never giving you a break from the start.

"Eyes up on me." Geto kept reminding you. You couldn't even close your eyes, because if you blinked too fast or too long, he also didn't like that.

You could feel Gojo's long fingers getting inside you. Moving them in and out of you for a moment, making you more wet than you already were. Then he started to curl them, instantly making your body shake.

One side was satisfied with your reactions, the other one not so much.

"Focusm" Suguru wanted you to only look at him. His hand now in your hair, keeping you in place so couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Y/N, look at me." Satoru said your name, placing a kiss on your clit before he started devouring it. Your back arches. Suguru gulped at your fucked up expression. It was cute, no, it was in so many ways that he can't describe it. You were breath taking, now and at any other time of the day, every position and anything you might do from any angle. He wanted to fuck you and see more. He was so close on pushing Gojo away and fuck you the way you deserve it.

Gojo didn't looked happy at the way his friend kept your attention all to himself. "Say my name." it was a beg, it was a request. It sounded like anything but demanding. He sounded needy. He needed to hear you praise him, tell him how good he makes you feel and move your hand in his hair.

"Look at me." Suguru kept demanding the same thing over and over again. It didn't matter who's name you said as long as you're only focused on him, right? That means he won.

However, you realized they're doing it again. That useless fighting. You don't want only one of them, you wanted both. A little bit of what they have to offer you. Whatever they wanted to show you, you'll accept it.

They acted like this ever since Nanami was there. They started acting like this out of jealousy.

You wanted to punish them somehow. It was for the useless things they're thinking about.

You opened your mouth, you wanted to say something, yet no word got out your mouth. What if you said another person name. Someone who's not in the room at the moment. Someone who's not usually here at all. Your eyes were sparkling thinking of ways of torturing them, Geto could see that. Those eyes that looked so lovingly now full of fireworks and that dumb smile you had on your face.

Think of him, look at him. Only see him. Say how much you wanted him. Him and him only. What made you full of life if it wasn't him?

You had to do it. You had to punish them for being selfish again. Yet you couldn't. No matter how much you would love to see their reactions, you knew you were digging your own grave. It's you in the end who will suffer for anything they might deserve.

What if you don't say anything at all? What if you keep your voice to yourself and not let them hear you at all. That's what the silent treatment is after all, no? And so you did, you bite your lower lip and put a hand over your mouth.

Geto could only laugh, thinking that you're afraid someone might hear you. No one besides them would hear a thing, he could reassure that. He moved your hand gently, hopping you'll understand him without a word needed. Yet you still refused to let out any kind of noise. "No one will hear you. So don't worry."

"I know." that's the only words you said. You knew and yet you still do it?

"Maybe it's because of you. Look the other way." Gojo said, his hands around your thighs dragging you closer to him.

"It's actually because of you." Geto said, getting more close to you. You didn't said anything. And this only gave them the wrong idea.

They were trying to imitate the enemy, so, maybe it was their clothes? Or maybe the blonde was still in your head and you were trying to think of him? It infuriats them. They only wants your attention, the way you looked at Nanami so curious, so full of questions. You don't look like that at them.

Gojo got up from between your legs and Geto dragged you up in his lap.

"Why you're being a bad girl? Hm?" Suguru's low voice purred into your ear, so close, it gave you chills.

"Are we not enough? What do you want more." you were sandwiched between them, your back pressed on Geto's chest while Gojo was in front of you, getting his body closer to you with each second passes. Your legs were wrapped around Satoru, mostly because he placed them like this, to make sure to have access to you as much as he could. While Suguru's arms were also wrapped around you, keeping you firmly against him, not letting you move an inch.

You still refused to say a thing even if you had no idea what they're talking about. You just got tired of their games, those stupid thoughts of theirs that made your head spin. You couldn't figure out what was going on with them, why were they like this. What made them like this.

"Say something." Satoru's voice had so many emotions in it. Rage, disappointment. Sadness? It was complicated, yet it made your pussy drip.

"Y/N, do you want to see me mad?" Suguru got one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. You were like a doll in their hands. Standing there without doing much. It was supposed to be your punishment for them, for fucking with your life like this when they could talk everything out. But now you want to back down. Mostly because you were feeling scared. Their eyes were scary, the roughness in their hands scared you. How they're squeezing places around your body so hard that it might leave a bruise, and how quiet they became.

Should you apologize? You had no idea. Was it too late to say something?

You opened your mouth, eyes on you for your next move. Yet you still didn't say a thing. You close your mouth and looked away. If they're getting on your nerves you'll definitely say someone else's name to piss them off.

Are you not allowed to get mad? Do you have no right to do so? They did it with their own hands. You can put them in place however you want, whenever you wanted. No, in fact, you'll give them some time to think about this, about how they act in general. Sure, you have no problem with them being themselves, you love it. But it was until some certain point where you would tolerate their behavior.

You put your palms on the bed trying to get up somehow. That action itself made them go feral in the worst way possible. Why are you doing this to them? Their hearts almost stopped working.

"Don't do this, come on." no matter how mad you might be, their pleas sounded like a sweet melody. It was the way they're melting in your arms. Satoru's voice sounded broken when he spoke. You're not even doing much, yet it affects them so much. Both of them were weak for you, you got them on their knees trying to get your attention. Of course they would get mad if another is trying to get in.

You didn't said anything, only looking at them, those big eyes again, it was like the first time you interacted with them. So curious about your surroundings. You looked up at Suguru, and then looked at Satoru, who were looking at you trying to figure out what in the world is going on in your head.

"Say something." Geto's voice was so soft, even if he was angry at you. His hand went lower on your body, caressing your soft skin, somehow hoping that you'll warm up. Maybe you wanted more of their attention? "It's your fault." Suguru looked at Gojo.

"Me? You were the one who was like, look at me. Maybe she got enough of your ass." Satoru tried to imitate Geto's voice.

"Me? It's you. You started this." you tried to not laugh. You can't give up yet, all you wanted was to hear them say that they're sorry, or anything that shows that they realized their mistake, nothing more. But they're refusing to believe it's their fault.

"Alright, stop." you sighed softly. "Think about what you both did." they're still thinking about how you might be seeing another, forgetting about them. Moving out of this place and leaving them to be as miserable as they used to be, all sad and not even happy to be back home, spend all their time outside just to forget about their loneliness.

How dare you play with their feelings? For once in their lifetime they're serious about something and you're just toying with them? Gojo got his hands on your hips, dragging your ass on him, positioning himself after he undid his belt. With a simple movement, his cock was out his pants. Now he was getting in front of your entrance, ready to get inside. Why did you looked surprise, huh. "Why don't you think about what you did?" he's trying to imitate your words, like you're the bad guy.

You gasped when he pushed himself inside you all the way in with a single move, if he could at least give you an warning. Geto got your face in his hand, making you look up at him. "Inside voice. Don't let a single word out." this was ridiculous. What were they even thinking?

You frown, you didn't know what to say or do. You had them in your palm, right? Why were they like this then? This wasn't your plan. All you wanted was for them to think about their actions.

You wanted both of them, you gave your time to both of them. It wasn't only one who received your attention, it was both. You didn't let a single one feel left out, and they still dare to think that you're selfish.

"Bad boys." you said out of breath, trying to degrade them somehow.

"Oh yeah?" Satoru could only laugh. "I can show you how bad I really am."

"Sweetie, you have no idea what you're talking about." Geto felt amused by your words. They were so considered of you until now, or they tried. Sure, it might have not work all the time since they forget halfway through that's not only about them. But they tried, no? It was improvement in a way or another.

Gojo's hands were gripping your hips, moving in and out. The friction was overwhelming. You wanted to change the position, it was uncomfortable. You don't know where to even look when they were squeezing you between them.

Your hands were shaking, you didn't know where to put them since both of them annoyed you. You wanted to keep them to yourself, yet you were dying to do something.

You closed your eyes, grabbing your own thighs and leaving red marks on them from your nails, being around them was so stressful.

You bite your lower lip, trying your best to stay put it place. A few tears went down your face, the way Gojo was fucking into you was just.. Just. You can't even say words. "Cry for me. Let me hear that voice." Satoru's face went to your shoulder, trying to rest against it.

"Keep that voice inside." Geto was trying to push Gojo away. Wanting to tournament you for a little longer.

"Don't listen to him." the white haired man was out of breath, voice so low that it gave you chills. "Open your eyes, look at me."

Suguru's hand went under your chin, raising it to make you look at him. "Look at me." his voice sounded so soft compared to his thoughts and actions. You kept your eyes closed, wanting only to focus on their voices, on how they breathe.

"Fuck." Gojo said out of breath. He bite into your shoulder, making you groan for a moment.

Then a sudden thought went through Geto's head. He could do something so funny right now, something that could help you feel better, or not. It all depends on your performance. So, his hand traveled to your pussy, rubbing your clit in small circles and making your walls squeeze Satoru's dick. Couldn't they just act like this and stop being fuckers?

Without even thinking, one of your hands went of Gojo's shoulder while the other grabbed Geto's arm. You were shaking, you were biting your lip and you were so close. Satoru could feel that, and Suguru realized what was going on by your actions, you look desperate only when your about to cum.

Now, this is where was the funny part, at least for Geto. He dragged his hand back, leaving you with less friction than before. But that only caught Gojo's attention who understood what was going on without a single word needed. So, now you were left all alone without any kind of pleasure or friction, since even the white haired guy got out of you, leaving you there panting heavily and trying to understand what was going on. This left a bad feeling in your stomach, it left you all confused and trying to regain your conscious, your brain couldn't work properly.

"Why do you look so disappointed?" they were mocking you, you could feel it by the tone of their voices.

"Were you close?" so painfully close. That would have been a good orgasm if they didn't stopped.

Suddenly, you woke up being turned around, ass in the air and face pressed against your blanket. "Up." Satoru moved in front of you, making you rest your body weight on your arms.

"Be a good girl and you might cum this time." Suguru was behind you, placing a slap on your ass before he pushed his cock inside you.

You could feel a hand behind your neck, dragging your face up to look at the white haired man. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips for a moment before he too pushed his dick inside your mouth. They loved stuffing you good, didn't they? The way you struggle to take them, and yet doing so good.

Maybe it was your fault too, for ending up like this. You knew you shouldn't have fucked around with them, but you always go back, asking for more and letting them do whatever they wanted with you. Plus, you feel so good, like, so so good. It was impossible to hold back around you.

That's why they keep pushing more of them inside of you, trying to make you take more. Because you, yourself are greedy for more. You always end up begging for more, so how could they not give you more?

"Relax." Suguru said as he kept feeling you clenching around him, making him groan as one of his hands was traveling around your body.

But how could you relax? You were so close, and knowing them, they might deny you again. You wanted to cum, you needed this orgasm and if they're edging you again you swear you will leave through that door and find somebody who will give you what you want. They seemed to enjoy this, so why couldn't you do as well?

Your hand went to the one behind you, dragging him closer and making sure he stays there. Just a little more, it was so close. You might as well start crying because of how it was feeling.

A thing that they loved more than edging you over your limits was seeing you cum. It was something about the way you look when you're all fucked up. So it wasn't surprising when they dropped everything they were doing and focused on you, because they too know this would be a big one.

You woke up with your face against the bed sheets, hands all over you once again and all kind of words being whispered in your ear, about how good you're doing. How you'll get a lot more after this, how they'll make you cum again and again, for as long as you want. Well, you both know that some of those were lies, because it was more about until when they want this to continue.

Your cries were satisfying, and they aren't even afraid to admit that. How you grip the sheets underneath you, or how you moved your hand on Satoru, holding into him as you came, leaving a big mess on the bed as your body juices came out.

They both looked at you, not believing what they just saw. "Did you just squirted?" the white haired man said, whistling at the view you're giving him.

"I'm sure she can do it again, can't she?" that was more than enough to know that it would be a long day. You doub you'll be able to get out of bed any time soon, and who knows, maybe it won't be as bad as you think.

[nachrosas]

ORIGAMI | s.reid x reader

summary: in which spencer makes origami to help you feel better. pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader content warnings: none, just pure fluff! word count: 899 a/n: night, night! hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated! also, my inbox is always open to chat! till the next one!

The desk clock read 4:40 p.m., but time seemed to be dragging on longer than it should. Papers scattered across your desk formed a chaotic landscape: underlined reports, half-left notes, and a cup of coffee that had been cold for hours. You let out a heavy sigh, pushing a folder aside with more force than you should have.

Across the table, Spencer carefully looked up from the book he was reading, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He watched you for a moment, the pen still in your hand as if you had given up on writing anything.

“Something wrong?” he asked softly, but you just shook your head, forcing a smile that didn't convince even yourself.

However, he didn't insist. Instead, he bent down to pick up a piece of colored paper resting on the edge of his desk - which had probably come from a note left by Garcia. And, without saying anything, he began to fold it with meticulous and deliberate movements, as if it were part of a silent experiment.

“Spencer, what are you doing?” you finally asked, intrigued by the concentration on his face.

“Origami.” He didn't raise his eyes, but there was a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Did you know that, in Japan, it's believed that if you fold a thousand tsurus, you get a wish granted?”

You smiled, overcome by curiosity. “And what are you wishing for?”

“For now? That you feel a little better.”

The little paper bird he placed in front of you looked simple, but the kindness of the gesture weighed more heavily on your heart than any words he could say.

You watched him, now a little more relaxed, as Spencer took another piece of paper and restarted the process. With each turn, it seemed as if your frustration dissipated a little more as if he was folding part of it into the paper, leaving you totally mesmerized.

“Do you always do this?” you asked, resting your chin on your hands.

“Not always.” he replied, his eyes still fixed on the paper. “But when I was a child, I tried to learn all the classical forms. It was fascinating to see how something so simple could be transformed with a little patience.”

“You're full of surprises, Dr. Reid,” you joked, feeling the humor begin to return.

He finished another bird and added it to the growing flock on his table. “Actually,” he began, with the characteristic tone of someone about to share a curious fact. “Studies show that origami folding can be a form of active meditation. It helps reduce stress and improves concentration.”

“So you're saying I should try it?”

Spencer looked at you, with a soft gleam in his eyes. “Definitely. Here, take this.” He held out a piece of paper and began to guide your movements, step by step, patience overflowing with each instruction.

You weren't as skilled as he was, but when your first bird took shape, you couldn't hold back the smile that took over your face. Spencer noticed and, for a moment, seemed as pleased as you were.

His desk was now covered in little birds of all different colors and sizes, like a little paper garden. Each of them carried a small part of the weight that had previously been squeezing your chest.

You looked at Spencer, the smile that finally appeared on his face was now genuine, and carried a sincerity that made him feel like a small victory. The little paper birds scattered across his desk were more than just folded figures; they were symbols of patience and gave a gesture that, although simple, had managed to ease his stress load.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you said, your voice soft but full of gratitude. “You've really managed to brighten up my day.”

He looked at you, his eyes shining with a little surprise and modesty. Spencer wasn't the type who liked to receive a lot of compliments, but the way his gaze softened, and the slight smile that touched his lips, showed that he was pleased with the effect of the gesture.

“Well… I didn't do much. It's just a few paper birds.” he replied shyly, blushing a little. ‘But I'm glad it helped.’ the reply was typically Spencer Reid: humble as if any act of kindness was trivial. 

“Do you have any idea how to make one of these?” he asked, picking up another piece of paper and starting to fold it expertly into a beautiful flower. “I could teach you, if you want, of course. It could even be therapeutic, as I said.”

You felt something new take over your body, but it wasn't frustration. It was a feeling of calm and connection. It was all there, in the gentle movements of Spencer's hands and the sound of the paper being folded, as if he were sharing with you not just a moment, but a piece of his own tranquility.

“Of course.” you replied, your voice quieter now. “I'd love you to teach me.”

He looked at you, pleased to see your willingness to learn, and began to guide you. Step by step, without haste, explaining each movement with the patience of someone who understood that the most important thing was not the end result, but the process.

As his fingers guided yours, you realized that you didn't need anything more than that simple moment. 

[aventurineswife]

Hellooooooo! I rlly like your stuff and I don’t know if I’ve ever requested before, so I thought I’d send one in

Can I get a lil smth of Aventurine, Kaveh, and Alhaitham with a demon s/o who’s been hiding it? Like they get home earlier than the reader expects and they find them lounging around or napping without their human disguise? Please and thank ya!

Beneath the Mask

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Kaveh x Reader, Alhaitham x Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Secret Identity Reveal, Soft Moments, Established Relationship Protective Partners Light Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Mild tension due to the secret reveal, Brief mentions of insecurity and fear of rejection, Discussion of supernatural themes (demons, otherworldly abilities) Some suggestive teasing.

It had been a long, hard day for Aventurine—high-stakes meetings, an endless game of chess with rivals he knew too well, and his heart racing at the thrill of the gamble. Yet, there was a part of him that longed for more—a reprieve from all the tension.

As he entered his home, he expected it to be quiet as usual, the atmosphere rich with the lingering scent of expensive cologne and subtle elegance. What he did not expect, however, was to find you lounging on the couch, relaxed and unaware of his early arrival. The moment his eyes fell upon you, he froze in the doorway.

You, normally composed, were in your true form—an ethereal demon, with wings folded lazily behind you and your human disguise nowhere in sight. The glow of your eyes, no longer concealed, cast a soft light in the dim room, and your horns—hidden under the weight of your mask—now proudly framed your face.

Aventurine's lips curled into his usual enigmatic smile, eyes gleaming with interest. He took a step forward, his shoes silent on the polished floor, a calculated glint in his gaze as he approached you.

"Well, well," he said, low and teasing, "I didn't know I had a demon living under my roof."

You shifted, not realizing he was standing there at first, and he stared at you with a mixture of fascination and amusement. You blinked, too late, and realized you were caught.

"Aventurine—" you started, scrabbling to return to human form, but he reached out and stopped you.

"There's no need to hide it," he murmured, sitting beside you. "I must admit, this side of you is... intriguing. You know, life's a gamble, and I've always been one for surprises."

A faint warmth colored your cheeks as you remained still, unsure of how he might react. But instead of fear or distaste, there was only curiosity in his eyes—a dangerous curiosity, but one that made you feel oddly safe. You relaxed again, the tension in your body easing under his gaze.

"You're a real enigma, you know that?" Aventurine chuckled softly, his fingers brushing lightly over your wing, feeling the texture beneath his touch. "Just when I thought I understood you, you throw in something like this. But don't worry. This is one gamble I'm more than happy to take."

You gave him a half-hearted smile, the burden of your secret suddenly lifting for just that moment under his banter.

Kaveh had not slept a wink all week, at least not with his eyes closed. His mind had been through cycles of juggling tough architectural details and overwhelming financial struggles, but he was greeted with your presence in your true self lounging on the chair when he walked through the door.

Your eyes glowed softly in the flickering light, no longer concealed behind the human guise that covered you at other times. The spread of your wings showed the relaxation of slumber as faint flickers danced across demonic features before you fell asleep, heedless of his arrival.

Kaveh froze. His breath caught in his chest. He wasn't unused to the pangs of surprise, but to see you in your most natural state—a demon, to say the least—was truly leaving him wordless for a moment.

He closed the door quietly, walking closer with hesitant steps, unsure how to handle the revelation. Your wings twitched slightly, as though sensing his presence, and you blinked open your eyes to meet his gaze. Kaveh's mouth went dry, a mix of shock and awe painting his features.

"You…" His voice faltered, then steadied. "You're—"

"Yes," you said, your voice teasing but a little embarrassed. "I was hiding it from you. I didn't want to burden you with... all of this."

Kaveh's eyes lost their intensity, melting from hard to something warmer and more compassionate. He rose and walked over to the chair, kneeling beside you.

"Burden me? No." He smiled, though the exhaustion in his voice remained. "You've been hiding this, all this time? From me? You know, I would've preferred the truth, even if it was shocking."

You blushed, shifting slightly as your wings fluttered. Kaveh reached out to touch one of them gently, the texture of the feathers beneath his fingers soft and warm.

"You're still the same person to me," Kaveh continued, his voice soothing. "Your form doesn't change that."

You felt relief wash through you as he spoke, the weight of your secret easing in his presence. He'd always been kind, but hearing him say that felt like a small yet significant victory.

"I guess that's one less thing to hide from you," you said softly, a small laugh escaping your lips.

Kaveh smiled, leaning over to kiss your forehead. "I think I prefer you like this—young, real, no pretense, no masks."

Alhaitham had an unremarkable day—calm, logical, a day with the usual boredom of routine work. Getting home before tea time, he settled in with his book, about to relax in peace.

You were sitting on the couch, lounging in your true form, with your wings slightly outstretched, your demon features showing without the usual concealing. Your horns were no longer hidden, curved from your head. Your eyes were soft and strikingly lit, and there was a faint hum of power emanating from you, filling the room.

Alhaitham stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying the view. He didn't flinch. He didn't look like he was surprised, as if he hadn't just come across something he would least expect. He was just composed, though his very sharp eyes studied you quite intently.

"You kept this from me," he said, his voice level and not even a shade accusatory.

You sat up, quickly realizing your secret had been exposed. "I—didn't want you to think differently of me," you stammered, but Alhaitham's gaze never wavered.

"You've never seemed like the type to hide things," he remarked, walking further into the room and sitting down across from you. "But I suppose I should have known."

A part of you couldn't help but fidget with your wings, trying to figure out how to explain yourself to him. Alhaitham's expression didn't change, though his sharp eyes were free of judgment.

"You're still the same person," he finally said, his voice firm and steady. "I know many people in my lifetime—some human, some not. In the end, it is the character underneath that matters. You're not different from before."

The weight of his words settled over you, and for the first time since your secret had been uncovered, you felt yourself relax.

"Thanks," you murmured, your voice quieter than usual.

Alhaitham tilted his head slightly, his expression softening just the faintest bit. "I don't waste time with unnecessary judgment. Besides," he said with a small, almost imperceptible smirk, "I've always appreciated a bit of mystery."

You couldn't help but smile back, calming down when you settled back on the couch. Alhaitham may not be the most expressive, but in some way, you had always felt he understood you.

[aprillikesthings]

So this is somewhat of a continuation of my "you could headcanon Catra as demisexual based on canon" post, but I wanted to write a new post for this.

So there’s a fascinating conversation to be had about why, in fics where Catra and Adora aren't together (yet), so many of us have written Adora as…not a prude per se, but far less likely to hook up with other people—and have written Catra doing that, instead. (I mean, I have an unpublished WIP that includes that; I'm not throwing stones at glass houses here.)

And I do think some of it is that Adora is awkward in that way that’s so often some combo of a sheltered upbringing/ADHD/autism; whereas Catra is in fact more openly flirtatious.

(Disclaimer: In this post I'm using "slutty" in a neutral-to-positive sense.)

But the irony is that One, plenty of people who share those qualities with Adora are in fact hella slutty*; and Two, Catra clearly doesn’t intend to follow through on all that flirting.

ANYWAY time for my actual thesis of this post:

The real reasons, IMHO, that it's easier to see Adora as less slutty than Catra:

Adora is so visibly uncomfortable in her skin, and Catra is not

Adora doesn't even realize when she's attracted to other people

Catra however is aware of when people find her attractive (and changes how she interacts with them based on that)

The tweets aren't connected; they weren't part of the same thread. But ND's made no secret of the fact that he gave Adora a bunch of his own traits**, and it was after s5 that he started coming out as trans--which isn't to say Adora is intended to be read as dysphoric. But the way Adora never thinks of herself or what she wants carried over into not thinking about her physical body as anything other than a tool, and not feeling comfortable in her body, and not feeling like she owned it. (Which....is probably related to ND's religious trauma, considering how many conservative/fundie Christians straight-up tell women and girls their body doesn't belong to them. In those words. Literally.)

And I think that's part of why Adora reads as so awkward. The idea of someone wanting her and finding her attractive is just bizarre to her to the point that she doesn't even see it.

She does clearly find other people attractive! But I don't think she realizes she's doing it--she reminds me a bit of when I was 15 and stared at women in bikinis on the beach and tripped over my own feet because I was looking at them and not where I was going lol, and had literally zero idea I was doing it until my best friend told me about it later.

Adora didn't even know she wanted to kiss Catra until just before it happened--if Glimmer had pulled Adora aside in the Crimson Waste and said "lol you want Huntara so bad," Adora would've been genuinely confused!

And that's all before you get into the whole She-Ra thing, and you could write a long-ass essay about Adora's sense of identity and the degree to which she sees She-Ra as herself or not. But the fact is that She-Ra has a different body than Adora! Taller, stronger, a lot more hair lol. And the people around her clearly value She-Ra differently than they do Adora. So that's a whole. Thing.

Meanwhile: Catra just feels comfier in her body. She does try to tamp down her cat-like qualities to some degree, especially in s4, but a lot of it was just that her ears and tail tended to give away her emotions, and she was trying to hide them. She stops suppressing that at some point after Save the Cat. (And then the Universe gave her a mood ring alien cat, lol.) Catra's got her own pile of Issues, but her body is just not one of them.

There’s a scene at the end of The Coronation (s4ep1) where Catra is in her s4 outfit for the first time, and she basically does the “I’m in charge now” thing at Hordak, and I’m sorry but it’s...not NOT sexually charged, even leaving aside that her new outfit has thigh slits and a boob window. She’s sitting in his throne and purring (loudly!) and then purrs out a "Hey, Hordak."

She basically forces him to his knees, taunts him, and then we see from his POV as she sits back in that throne and crosses her legs. If she’d done that in a scene with literally any non-male character it would be seen as ship-bait!

Is she intentionally flirting with Hordak? Lol no.

But you'll notice: She doesn't do it with Scorpia, when she's mean to Scorpia. With Scorpia she's just...biting and cruel. So she clearly has some idea what she's doing when she taunts people, enough that she knows Scorpia would take it differently. She knows Scorpia finds her attractive and is trying to push Scorpia away.

Catra also doesn't do it with Double Trouble! Double Trouble flirts with Catra, but Catra gives none of it back, and as noted in my previous post, is even visibly uncomfortable with it at times.

Which isn't to say Adora never does the "flirtatious taunting" thing:

But like, where. Where do you think she learned it from.

(this post is once again relevant)

EDIT: another example of Adora learning it from Catra, taken from a "She-Ra Crack" video:

(*Me. In my 20’s. Just remember kids, lots of neurodivergent nerds are hella slutty.) (**iirc that's how he got diagnosed with ADHD. Everyone just like "hey is Adora intentional ADHD rep" and he was like "no, I wrote her like me?? ...oh. shit.")

(Lastly: anyone reblogging this to shame people for writing/hc'ing/shipping whatever they want will get blocked. I'm not even sure I hc Catra as demi and I wrote a whole post about it lol.)

[artytaeh]

everyone sees lorenze as a sweetheart but in the fic he was introduced in he was a dick, and on tiktok there's this whole thing where he would sleep with girls and then log the points he made by sleeping with them in a little black book, then compare scores with the other boys (i think it was 20-pureblood, 10 or 15- halfblood and 5-muggleborn), so how do you see him? (and can you write some hc's for him lile you did with mattheo please?)

anyways, love ur writing, and hope you have a great day!

A STUDY-CASE OF LORENZO BERKSHIRE; based on personal headcanons. 𓂃 ࣪ ✽ ˒

even though lorenzo doesn't have the same destroying coping mechanisms as mattheo or theodore, it's dangerous to assume that he's a sweetheart. if anything, it's a carefully built persona, a mask that he wears rather than claims as his own personality.

warnings: mentions of trauma, and mature contents advised to +18 readers; read at your own risk and responsibility.

MOST PEOPLE FORGET THAT LORENZO IS A SLYTHERIN— this man is cunning. to the point where people might raise an eyebrow at that.

from childhood, lorenzo learned some survival skills: to observe is to learn how to properly behave depending on the ambience, or the people that surround you. to observe is to learn how to act with certain people, nevermind if you agree with them or not. to observe is to know which mask to wear that would benefit you the most.

you see, lorenzo was more of a lucky child than his half-brother, mattheo riddle; the two were born from the same insane mother, who gave birth to lorenzo first as a riddance of her arranged marriage— lorenzo was freedom, was the one thing she had to do to leave that boring, unsatisfying life that her sister, narcissa black, submitted herself to.

after lorenzo, well, bellatrix lestrange was free to openly show her true colors, not having to poorly hide her affairs with dark magic and fascination for the dark lord— betraying mr. berkshire, lorenzo's father, who was unsure whether this was a good outcome (getting a heir and getting rid of such an unstable woman), or a terrible one for his reputation.

so really, mattheo would argue that growing up away from their mother was a blessing, that lorenzo should be thankful for.

lorenzo berkshire never felt that way.

in fact, lorenzo has a deep feeling of envy, in my perspective. never enough for his mother, who didn't even decide his name— his problems never worrisome or considered within his group, not when mattheo riddle exists, not since theodore's mother died. hell, even draco seemed to have a worse life than him.

to me, despite being more of a trio with theodore and mattheo since childhood, lorenzo has the most empathy and "light feelings" with blaise. since, well, they look like the most lighthearted and objectively happy of the group.

THE LACK OF HIS MOTHER'S PRESENCE had always cut deep within lorenzo: it brought a resentment fueled by envy, jealousy even, ever since his childhood.

looking at other children with their mothers, receiving loving hugs or even scoldings, was something that lorenzo deeply ached for. a maternal presence in his life, someone who cares— his father did the best he could, and honestly, not being related to the dark lord's affairs like draco, theodore and mattheo's family are, well, it was a blessing and offered a much lighter ambience at home.

still. lorenzo berkshire didn't know what to do with all that hatred bubbling inside of him. his family members, his teachers— everyone would praise lorenzo for his beautiful and delicate looks, how well-spoken he is; such a blessed child, right?

then why the fuck wasn't lorenzo worthy of a mother? what did mattheo have that lorenzo doesn't, what is so much more interesting about mattheo that lorenzo lacks— to the point of his mother not even knowing his name?

lorenzo finds it unfair. it's unfair, and behind that sweet smile of his, there's a brewing anger, resentment, jealousy that are dangerously close to explode. the day lorenzo explodes, well, hogwarts might blow to debris as well.

it didn't matter how much of a good father charles berkshire attempted to be; where do you think that lorenzo learned his womanizer ways into the world? seeing his father flirtatiously seduce maids, bring home women that felt awkward under his childlike gaze, how girlfriends rarely stayed for longer than a few months. enzo always wondered if love was meant to have a term. like food, if that make sense; in short time, it'll rot, if you don't consume.

so really, the lack of a maternal presence was what made lorenzo ache for a sense of validation. female validation, to be specific.

( yes, the type of friend who becomes your mother's favorite. lorenzo aches to be the slightest bit loved by them; he's specially close to narcissa, his aunt, since she shares the same blood as his mother. other than narcissa, lorenzo really likes and admires mrs. zabini too. )

draco malfoy is his childhood friend; they're cousins, berkshires and malfoys being two influential families that joined their heirs to be good friends since birth. theodore sparked interest in lorenzo since day one, even though he had been introverted back then. blaise came as a package deal with draco, hence why they have an amicable friendship. and mattheo, well, he... sparked different things in enzo that fueled that dangerous anger that he keeps hidden under wraps.

at first, this group seemed promising to one thing: popularity, and lorenzo ached to be a cool kid. gradually, enzo stopped perceiving them as a means to an end, and began to become truly attached to his friends. to the point where yes, lorenzo berkshire is the one to separate fights, or to keep an eye out to assure that professors won't interrupt his friends' fistfights.

even so, lorenzo feels lonely or an outcast sometimes. draco and blaise were birds of a feather ever since the first days of friendship; theodore and mattheo shared too many matching wounds. despite his proximity with both mattheo and theodore, lorenzo often felt like they were the duo in a trio. in the end, he had no one to claim as his person, nevermind how he's the one who ached for it the most.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE IS A HOPELESS ROMANTIC; dreaming with love at first sight, believing that he'd only settle down for this one goddess, this perfect woman he'd only have eyes for. genuinely, lorenzo believes that everyone has their assigned soulmate, that the one exists. and here between us, lorenzo is dying to meet the love of his life; he has high expectations of the world stopping the moment he sees her, of being tongue-tied on her presence. all of those romance book cliches.

so, in a way, all of these gentlemanly acts, this effort to get to know many people, specially girls... it's all for the sake of his goal: finding this girl that will stop his world.

and as romantic as it can be, such a thing makes lorenzo berkshire become... an asshole.

so he becomes anxious. each girl he dates, he'll anxiously expect or wonder if she's the one for him. this anxiety brings him to be a bit mean, and an inconsequent jerk, who'd find faults in all of the girls he dated for more than a week; by the end of the month, he'd have a whole brainstorming session on his notebook (that bloody, cruel notebook of his) weighting the qualities over their flaws.

and so he'll daydream— and test them. watching closely how they react to this and that, a strange analogy for situations of daily life; a taste of what would be like settling for such a woman. if it's worth it. if he likes it. if their reactions are charming to his eyes.

if he's dissatisfied, well; he'll dump them. lorenzo berkshire has a big heart, meant to love and show the outmost affection—

and even though he'll make a girl feel like a princess, like the most important, prettiest, most special girl at school... one day he'll treat you as the most special, ethereal person that ever existed in the earth— on the other one he won't even spare a glance at you.

LOVE BOMBING works that way. because as soon as lorenzo is bored or dissatisfied, he'll leave; the interest, the thrill of the chase, learning the way to their bodies and what makes them laugh, swoon, blush, give him a cute reaction — after all of that, well.

lorenzo berkshire will be bored.

and leave their lives as fast as he came.

and well, enter the little black book !

you see, for how much of an asshole that lorenzo truly is, is a bit hidden under the wraps; (mattheo doesn't have much of a problem showing it, since his father's reputation got people assuming terrible things about him since day one), but lorenzo berkshire is more discreet.

for those of you who don't know, the little black book is a hard covered notebook, with blank pages meant to be filled with... well, rudely given scores and opinions that should've never been verbalized. as anon mentioned on their ask: this is a game between him and mattheo; like quidditch, you score more and more points to your team.

with this one, each girl they sleep with, adds more points to their game. raised with the pureblood supremacy ideology implanted on their minds, the points were given like this:

⭑ 20 points, if the girl is a pureblood;

⭑ 10 points, if the girl is a halfblood;

⭑ 5 points, if the girl is a mudblood muggle born.

mattheo being lorenzo's partner on this whole little black book deal is a bit of a... tricky situation.

at first, it served as a competition; to prove to himself that he's better than his half-brother, after all. then, it became mean conversations that unintentionally brought the boys together as genuinely good friends who appreciate spending time together.

suddenly, lorenzo doesn't hate mattheo anymore, and starts perceiving him as who he really is, instead of that nemesis he created inside his head— the boy who stole his mother's attention.

SMARTER THAN WHAT PEOPLE GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR. it's part of his sweetheart persona, to make sure people underestimate him; sure, don't worry about lorenzo — look at him, do you really think he'd punch a guy?

(he would. lorenzo rarely gets himself into fights, for the sake of not getting bruises on his face and his reputation; but this guy is feral. get lorenzo berkshire angry enough, and mattheo and theodore have to join forces to separate lorenzo from his adversary.)

enzo won't punch or be aggressive to anyone in public. if anything, he might get them at a secluded corner of the castle and give them a very obvious warning.

but his preferred strategy is to innocently spread gossip about the people that harm his friends. you said that theo had cocaine? funny— it seems like you slept with a professor and got an abortion during christmas break. lorenzo isn't afraid to spread gruesome rumors like that. so be smart and don't start shit with his friends either.

lorenzo also has a hard time knowing himself. in a sense that, because lorenzo shapes himself to adjust to each social circle, he gets lost between the many masks he used throughout his life.

is he capable of being a sweet person, or is he just a really bad guy? lorenzo sees things as extreme. black or white. day or night. the sun or the moon. good or evil. right of wrong. that might be why he has a hard time believing in what people say about him; as in, if you praise lorenzo of being a good friend, he'll have his doubts about that— a good friend wouldn't do the things he's done, or felt jealousy towards them. a good friend wouldn't resent his friends for having problems seemingly bigger than his, right?

( rip lorenzo berkshire you would have loved personality quizzes. )

lorenzo also tends to have a certain distortion of his problems. the issue here is, the minor problems are seen as extreme, alas the truly worrisome ones, diminished. enzo knows when someone is abused — but does he allow himself to feel bad about the grown woman who was his first time at fourteen? no—no. he should like it. boys will be boys. and when everyone patted his back and treated him like a king afterwards, lorenzo felt bad about wanting to throw up.

QUALITIES THAT HE POSSESSES, rather than just spitting out my insight of lorenzo's struggles and some flaws of his, are:

⭑ knows how to treat a woman,

lorenzo is a friend to many girls, and having seeked both comfort and validation from the female audience, interacting so much with the opposite gender offered experience. not just to fuck or making out— lorenzo genuinely has some girl friends that he considers as people he sincerely likes; most of these friends, depending on their personality (cough how enzo judges whether they'd be able to survive his friends' bullshit cough), lorenzo will warn his slytherin friends to find another prey to pester.

besides, he's the one who mostly advises his friends. surely, theodore has good experience with women at his feet, and mattheo knows how to flirt with a girl— however, both suck at apologizing, or redeeming for their mistakes, even though they're not feeling the guilt they should feel.

lorenzo sympathizes with that, but bloody hell, morons— just go get her a bouquet of her favorite flowers and say some sappy bullshit! lorenzo isn't sure whether his friends are ignorant idiots, or if he's somehow included in girl code. lorenzo berkshire promises that it's not that hard to understand women, much less how to treat one right.

( emotionally speaking, well... sometimes lorenzo fails at that. horribly. still, his motto is to make girls cry on his tongue, not for his actions. break her bed, not her heart! )

⭑ the greatest at social gatherings,

hence why lorenzo will be the perfect boyfriend to your parent's eyes; a charming smile, polite and doesn't force any sympathy to be casted upon him. lorenzo's ability to perform in the pureblood society, at home, in hogwarts with different social circles, allowed him to master the art of adapting into the necessary mask. besides, he's a mother's favorite; should you and lorenzo berkshire ever break up, your mother will cry.

⭑ as i've stated before— acts of service,

lorenzo's most genuine display of care is by acts of service. gifts if he wants to impress, physical touch if he wants to seduce— so the things he does for his slytherin friends are the most sincere from him.

⭑ ‌looking out for any professors or filch, to make sure that no one interrupts his friend's brawls; if necessary, lorenzo is one to step up on the fight as well, if things feel unmatched for mattheo or theodore.

⭑ ‌taking care of their drunk selves, even to the point of tolerating them throwing up at each corner of their shared bathroom (a nightmare, i'll tell you.); lorenzo will drop whatever he's doing to make sure that his friends are hydrated, comfortable and sleeping soundly on their beds.

⭑ ‌brings annotations and whatnot to help them at a certain subject. lorenzo has connections and is an acquaintance to many, so really, getting these wasn't that hard.

⭑ ‌saves their preferred dessert or breakfast meal, since lorenzo is very pontual and likes to leave the slytherin's dorms early. or at least before the halls are too crowded for his liking.

⭑ knows their allergies. once saved blaise from suffocating— theodore unintentionally gave him a bit of a tart that had peach. blaise is allergic to them.

⭑ isn't a materialistic person,

at least not like his cousin, draco malfoy, is; money and wealth came easy to lorenzo's life, surely, however he doesn't perceive it as something that dictates a family's value. hence why lorenzo also doesn't look at price tags— knowing that the berkshire's vault at gringotts would be full for many generations to come, but also because money is a trade needed to survive amidst society. besides, lorenzo has money to spoil you! otherwise, why would he need this much?

not looking at price tags might make him a bit ignorant about stuff he buys. 'this? oh, i thought it was cool– does this brand cost five hundred galleons? oh, i wasn't aware.' — won't be able to explain where he got his clothes from, because they might be muggle, wizardry, low cost, or at the expense of a kidney.

besides, lorenzo values handmade gifts much more than bought ones. things you buy because you know a person's tastes are just as endearing— lorenzo melts at the notion that you see him. that you notice him and what he says. even so, give this man a love letter, and he'll unironically sob (and read it every. single. night. before sleeping). this means that lorenzo will also put effort into making something for you, rather than go to the first store and buy the first thing he sees.

⭑ dresses ridiculously well,

lorenzo berkshire doesn't have to pull anything off; the man knows how to dress. an angel will spend their vacation at hell, the same day you'll see lorenzo wearing a mismatched outfit. sounds impossible, right? yeah. it doesn't matter if he's running late either; lorenzo will even show that that adds to his charm: being fashionably late.

he's a bit stingy with clothes, though. doesn't like the thought of sharing them with anyone— however he might lend hoodies, jumpers and shirts to his partner. the biggest drama queen if someone taints or ruins his clothes. if his shirt isn't perfectly ironed, he won't use it. lorenzo berkshire always looks impecable.

⭑ fiercely loyal,

slytherin and hufflepuff walk hand in hand with this one trait: loyalty. in my opinion, you won't find another house who compares to their great sense of devoted trust. lorenzo, nevermind his own mental struggles and unspoken issues, would never betray his best friends in any way.

lorenzo is the type of friend to whom you have to prove that his friends are in the wrong— the proof must be a ridiculously good argument, because even so, lorenzo will side with his friends. enzo's concern over the moralty of their actions falters, into the need of helping his loved ones out of this mess first; besides, lorenzo has a secret (yet loud) urge to be useful, to be needed, from where validation and self-esteem comes from.

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— once again: this is my perception of lorenzo berkshire! 🗯️ i posted this with a tinsy bit of fear, since some people might interpret lorenzo as something totally opposite to this... but oh well. i hope you liked it! you won't believe for how long i've had this for ?! and i'm still so not satisfied with it. 🙂‍↔️

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[yiangchen]

it's still so fascinating to me that bellarke was supposed to happen in 6x10/6x11, bob was informed of this, but then he received the script and it didn't happen. that's just so sketch. truly what was going on behind the scenes. it's just so WEIRD the more you think about it. also makes me wonder if that was the first time that had happened. i mean, we already know that there were changes to the 1x08 script to get rid of the line where bellamy asks clarke to run away with him, so i don't think it's that far outside the realm of possibility to think that there were other romantic lines/scenes that were cut throughout the series. i honestly think every season they probably toyed with the idea of them happening, wrote a first kiss or a confession or maybe an almost kiss, decided against it and thought hey actually let's push this to next season, drag it out a little longer.

[northirish]

Squirrel man with another secret My great-uncle fought in the US-Vietnam War as a sniper. He and his buddy thought it would be funny to swap dog tags, but his buddy stepped on a landmine (for our freedom) and was KIA. The gov't sent his mom a letter about it, and they had a funeral for Great-Uncle. 9 months later he came home and freaked everyone the fuck out because he didn't know about his buddy. Anyways my Uncle's name ended up on the Vietnam War Memorial Wall even though he died in 2007 after getting hit by an 18-wheeler truck. There was a bit of a legal stink over it because he didn't actually die in Vietnam and there were some folks who were pissed, but the case was dropped and my family doesn't talk about it.

I am fascinated by your tales, please compile them to like a book or a PDF or something and publish it

[passionatelyxlust]

Lust could not help thinking in any other circumstance, he would find the corporeal realm a fascination that needed every corner and crevice explored just to understand the inner machinations of what breathed life into it. Walking through anything and everything, unseen and possessing freedom no one can explain. Knowing what he knew now about Azriel's past, on the other hand, reminded the prince that some universes beyond comprehension were far more dangerous than the simple playground someone would expect for a dream witch like Azriel. Underestimating and disobeying the general laws nature intended is what killed the man's younger brother, so even Lust can heed on the side of caution watching where he stepped in a world he had no business being in. "Oh, that's just...great. I wasn't sure how powerful they would be on that end, but flying sounds exciting " Lust turned his hands every which way as a distraction from the queasiness, looking up in time to watch the other prince return at his side. "There isn't a second where I haven't thought about my brother." As Azriel grabbed for his hand again and led him through the door, the demon's thoughts filled the confines of his mind with nothing but Gluttony. The happy memories, the times they sought comfort in each other when the other princes scoffed at their relationship. The smooth-talking Gluttony who cracked jokes and defended him at every turn from their brothers. He didn't notice the unusual steps they were taking, the speed, just spending the moment thinking about the one person that he missed more than anyone from his fractured family. Lust's gaze immediately fell upon the mansion's interior as soon as they entered, the familiar marble columns and ornate chandelier hanging above their heads in the main entrance welcoming the pair, but this was not the home he left behind. "What the hell is Kai doing here?" Lust mumbled distractedly, attention more on the catastrophe left by whatever tornado swept through the place. "This isn't how I left it, Az, Jo never would've let the house fall into such disrepair. I don't understand..." He couldn't bring himself to dwell on it for too long, instead opting the other lead them, floating practically, to Gluttony's bedroom.

The second his gaze absorbed the same chaos that had been left throughout the mansion, Lust knew in his heart that this was his fault. Something very extreme happened in his absence, enough that it sent Gluttony and Josephine off kilter, something like the King. Of course, maybe he came looking for information where Lust was hiding Azriel and his brother never gave him a satisfactory answer. The sight slammed into the demon with a gut punch that sent his eyes nearly watering. From the notebooks and the discarded papers, to his brother's tossed away crown and the dagger dug into the desk's wood surface that no prince would ever have laying around out in the open unless they valued their life, nothing prepared Lust than the sight of his two best friends huddled together in an embrace. "I've never seen him like this before." The man whispered sadly, moving over to Josephine's side of the bed and reaching over a hand to brush his fingers against her cheek. It went right through the succubus and Jo stirred, but she didn't awaken either herself or the prince. "If I knew what would happen if I left-" He still would've made the same choice to protect his Prince, but at least he potentially could have taken his family along. "He's in pain, I can feel it." Lust moved around the bed, eyes never leaving Gluttony. Mourning whatever consequence befell his brother and hoping he wouldn't resent him for it. "I won't release your hand, I promise." The prince reached forward and clasped Azriel's hand, giving it a squeeze, "Just take me to my brother. I need to know what happened."

Azriel watched Lust take in his surroundings warily, not out of fear for himself, no. It's because he knew how alarming it could be for the first time—remembering what it was like to slip into the astral plane himself as a small child, though back then, it was a fantastical world free from perils. The witch now knew what it was: a deadly world of destruction, his own or otherwise if he wasn't careful. He'd brought many people to their early graves in this realm with ease and zero hesitation. He tried to see it through the Prince's eyes, and he knew it looked like something straight from Alice in Wonderland. "This was the easy part, unfortunately," Azriel replied, moving towards the farmhouse door he'd left open in the corporeal world. He wasn't even sure if he could leave and didn't know how far the barrier to keep him in went. Az paused briefly, unsure, before lifting a hand to push through the threshold and walking his entire form through. "Looks like the wards don't keep me strapped in this dimension. That's good," the witch mused as he crossed back to where he'd left Lust. "The fastest way to your brother is to think of him and step through the door. Next time we have time, I'll take you flying," the witch promised before taking Lust's hand in his and guiding him to the door. In this dimension, Azriel was connected to all dreaming beings– feeling the pull of their minds beckoning him like a siphon to his astral body. Initially, it used to be too much for him to feel, which was why he sought solace in his brother's dreams. Safer. Now, locating people the moment they dreamed was easy for him. It was late in the night already, so he figured that the Prince they were locating was in the mansion that Lust resided at previously. Like a homing beacon, the witch latched onto Gluttony's familiar magical signal and guided the two through the threshold. Space and time moved through the astral dimension, the steps the duo took feeling more like a moving walkway in an airport; propelling the two until they pushed through the doorway leading into the mansion. Azriel's eyes opened to take the space around them. The mansion looked the same as it did in the waking world, only cast with a different hue and it was... trashed. It was not like there was a fight, but as if no one cleaned up after themselves for ages. That wasn't the only thing that threw him off; there were four dreaming entities, and one felt like his brother. "Weird," Azriel stated with furrowed brows before turning to the Prince he'd carried with him, "Kai's here." Shaking his head, he pointed his gaze towards where he knew the Prince of Gluttony resided, and he could instantly feel a strong emotion pulsing; it left a taste of despair on his tongue, dreams so poignant that it leaked out of of the Prince and leeched into the plane around him. "C'mon, I can feel your brother and it's not... good." The duo didn't need to walk when Azriel was leading. Most of the time that Azriel was in the astral plane, his feet never touched the ground. However, that takes years of practice to control and the last thing they needed was for Lust to propel into the stratosphere like a helium balloon. Instead, he held Lust's hand tight and moved the duo up from the ground floor to the second-floor wing of the mansion like they were in zero gravity before pushing into Gluttony's room.

It was like he had feared. Something had happened and whatever it was, it was causing a nightmare to come off of Gluttony in waves. The two of them stood in the oppulent bedroom, and it reflected much of what he'd seen when the two made it to the mansion in the first place. Clothes strewn, notebooks littering the floor, loose leafs of paper crumpled and tossed in every direction. Glutton's crown, or what he assumed belong to the Prince, on the floor at the foot of his bed and a curious looking dagger that seemed to even glow within his realm sticking out at an odd angle in his desk as if stabbed into the surface in anger. Looking at the source of the despair, the dreams he could taste even so far away, Gluttony laid in a near fetal position with the blankets and sheets tangling his limbs tightly. The succubus that Az had come to know in passing pressed against the Prince's back with arms wrapped tight in his middle and her forehead pressed against his spine. "They're both having nightmares," the witch murmured, dropping Lust's hand briefly to walk closer to the bed and crouching; observing the dynamic between the sleeping duo. Black, wispy clouds of energy radiated off of the two, however the aura around the Prince was stronger; more palpable. Deep inky tendrils wrapping around him tightly, drowning him. Azriel waved a hand closer to the energy causing the tendrils to reach out towards him like a sunflower following the sun. "I haven't seen dreams this strong in a long time. I'll have to dispel the energy once we get inside his head." Holding a hand to Lust, he nodded towards Gluttony, "once we get into his mind, don't let go of my hand until I say it's okay. One wrong move can spell badly for all three of us."

[zephrunsimperium]

I don't think I'll ever write Once Upon A Dream as an actual thing on AO3 but I keep envisioning little moments from it and need to share it with the world. Basically after getting out of the Theraprism, Bill trades his immortality to go back in time and see Ford again.

Bill Confesses To Ford

"Bill?" Ford asked. Bill looked up at him from the other side of the couch with his big brown eyes. The sun was setting outside through the open window, casting a warm glow over the living room. "…. are you a magical creature?" The question blossomed in Bill's gut. He was asking now? Bill wasn't ready for this yet. Ford didn't know it yet, but he wasn't ready for this either. "…. I was," Bill said. He looked away even as he heard the sound of Ford's pen clicking. Was he really going to take notes on this? But this was Ford, of course he was. "What happened?" he asked eagerly. Bill regarded journal one with nervousness, dodging Ford's eye contact. Ultimately he decided he didn't have the right to be nervous; invasive or not, Ford meant well, it was alright. "That was a lifetime ago," he answered, trying to brush it off. Please let's have this conversation later, Sixer. "Could you perhaps be more specific?" Ford sat up more, balancing his journal on his thighs. "Is this part of your life cycle? How old are you? Are there more of you here?" God, he looked so bright eyed and innocent. Bill didn't want to explain it to him now, not like this. But how could he end Ford's questioning? "I gave up my immortality willingly." "Fascinating…" Ford muttered, scribbling furiously. "What prompted this?" "You." The quiet single word answer stopped Ford halfway through a word. "… what?" Bill just folded his arms, looking away. He wasn't going to repeat himself, Ford knew what he'd said. "What- what does that mean?" Ford's mind was running a mile a minute. Why would Bill give up immortality for him? More than that, how had he stumbled upon an immortal being and not figured it out faster? He'd suspected after about a week, had been taking notes on his not-so-human eccentricities, but... He didn't even know what kind of creature Bill was. Nothing he knew about aligned with anything he'd studied. Bill continued, having retreated into himself somewhat: “I messed up," he said softly, staring forward at nothing. "And I lost you. And I hated that." "I-" Ford blushed. "Excuse me?" He couldn't think of anything he'd done in the last few months that would have caused that. "You haven't lost me at all." “Before or- Well- later, I guess- Time travel and all that." Ford blushed. "I- That's… You care about me that much?" “Yeah." Bill shrugged. He wanted to hide. Surely he was crazy for this, chasing after a gay fantasy that would eventually crumble. It always did. There was no other outcome in the cards. He didn't regret it though. It was worth it, to see a Ford that didn't hate him. "You had to become mortal? For me?" “Yeah,” he replied again. "Look, Ford, I-" Bill cut off when Ford's hands came to cup his face. The two of them stared at each other, journal 1 lying facedown on the coffee table. Bill froze but wrapped his arms around Ford and held him. He wasn’t going to lose him this time. He was safe for once.

[itsallmouthwashing]

Tulpar Band AU- Character descriptions/some lore PART 2

Uh okay fellas- I had to use piccrew since I'm bad at art (good thing @living-stain is keeping me fed WOOF) and I'll include some more facts about them! This is part 2 of the Tulpar Band AU character descriptions! (Part 1)

(MAYBE I NEED TO CLARIFY MAYBE NOT BUT THE ART IS DONE MY @living-stain!!!!!!! Please show him some love!!)

JIMMY ZARE- Scream Vocals and Guitar

Learned guitar pretty early in life. His parents would often drop him at the local YMCA and he took an instant interest to making music. One of the instructors there also taught him how to write songs and write music!

That instructor also listened to a lot of metal music! Little Jimmy was fascinated with it and demanded the instructor teach him how to do the monster voice thing. (Instructor learned how, just for him) (Jimmy ate up every bit and even made notes in his journal!)

Has perfect pitch! It drives him crazy sometimes when he hears a sound- any sound- and can immediately know what note it is. Although, sometimes the crew will 'test' him. They'll make random noises and ask to identify it

Music was a great outlet for him, so all of his songwriting is very personal to him and exposing himself was something he had to come to terms with if he wanted to start a band and use his songs

he starts a journal of songs and notes about making music and carries it with him almost everywhere. It's where all of his lyrics are stored, where all of his feelings are stored. They have no place in his heart, so they must be put somewhere else

Started smoking cigarettes at age 9 when he snuck one out of his parent's stash. They caught him, but just gave him his own pack and lighter in response (shitty Jimmy parents that I created, when I get you- Jimmy's parents when I get you-)

Becomes a dealer at the high school but low-key only sells to people he trusts (aka people he knows for sure are stoners and don't want to ruin the one plug that will sell to them)

Curly gets him to stop when they form Tulpar, but Jimmy still gets supplies for the two of them (he doesn't know WHERE Daisuke heard about him still selling, but it leads to Tulpar's full formation so whatever)

Smashed some motherfucker's guitar on their first day of high school. Yes, Jimmy was bragging about having perfect pitch, but he didn't expect so many goddamn kids to want him to tune their guitars for class. So when this kid with too blond hair and a grating fucking accent, he finally had enough, and all the annoyance and impatience came out in a violent swing to the ground with that kid's guitar in hand

GRANT CURLY- Main Vocals and Guitar

Picked up guitar the summer before he moved to America. His freshman year of high school is when he was able to commit the most of his time to practice and learned how to play through school

First day of school had his guitar smashed. He brought his own from home not knowing there would be instruments provided, and the kid who smashed it had to pay Curly and his family himself to replace it (Curly parents could replace it no problem, it wasn't a financial thing. And Curly feels bad about this fact for 0.2 seconds before he's searching for new guitars on the internet)

Always had a knack for singing. His dad was actually in a band when Curly was growing up, and while his dad played drums he loved to sit in on practice and sing along.

Karaoke? What was that blond blur just now? That was Curly getting first in line

Develops an alt style thanks to Jimmy, molds it to a more 'classy' look by wearing button-downs and suit pieces (someone said he looked great in a button-down and he decided it was the only thing he would wear ever)

Jimmy got him hooked on cigarettes during their freshman year of high school. He literally cannot got thirty minuets without a cigarette. He's insecure about the smell that lingers on him, so he also carries a bottle of cologne with him almost everywhere

DAISUKE JUAREZ - Drums and Synth/Keyboard

Had an interest in piano when he was younger and kept up with it as he learned drums at 12

Between piano lessons and school, he played baseball at his after-school care program. He really enjoyed it, playing baseball through middle and high school and eventually getting a scholarship based on his skill! he has to juggle Tulpar and his college baseball career, so sometimes they need to schedule around Daisuke

His parents are stupid rich and have lots of connections in production. Both parents work in Hollywood (as what? Beats me him!)

Daisuke is sent to a new high school when he turns 18 (which is junior year. his parents let him finish the year but send him to a state of his choosing to finish high school and experience life on his own) (yes they spy on him through Swansea)

Clicks with Anya instantly when he find out they both just moved to the state the same year. Quickly finds out she's a little bit of a goody-two-shoes (he changes his)

ANYA MUSUME

Picked up bass when she was 13 when she started listening to music. Honestly, she felt bass was a super underrated instrument (and that it was harder to pick up than other instruments). Her dad bought her first bass!

It's been Anya and her father for as long as she could remember. Her mom stayed behind in their home country (I'll figure it out) as they all planned to move to America, but she never made it to them. She suddenly became ill and passed away. This all happened when Anya was very young, so she has little memory of it. But her father does break down when she names her bass after her mom :)

Her and her father moved to a different state during her senior year of high school for reasons unknown to her. Sometimes she overheard hushed phone calls in the kitchen, or notices his shifting eyes in public spaces.

She meets Daisuke in a business studies class and the two take on the first few weeks of school together! It's not until Daisuke tells her that there's someone on campus that sells the good shit and they agree to meet at the dealer's spot that they meet Jimmy and Curly!

Curly and Daisuke have Gym at the same time, so that interaction was nice ("Word?" "Word." "I didn't know you were chill like that.")

The four of them hang out plenty after that!

SWANSEA (LASTNAME?)- Manager (I COULDNT FIND A GOOD PICCREW IM SORRY :(

Part of Pony Express Record's staff of managers. They refuse to hire more, so usually managers are looking after two or more bands at a time. This is also true for Swansea!

Daisuke's parents call in a favor he's owed them for some time, and of course it's for their precious baby boy. And of course he can't say no

He oversee's Tulpar's progress as a unit, coaches them individually on what industry standards are for musicians and then as a group for synergy, blending, and other factors that could risk their signing.

No matter how many times Swansea tells Jimmy his shit wont fly at P.E Records, Jimmy writes what he wants anyways. And the band rallies behind him. And somehow it fucking works

On top of being Tulpar's manager, he also kinda becomes Daisuke's babysitter (on his parents wishes. "Well, you're going to be over there anyways! I don't see the big deal in reporting back to us about what he's- how he's doing :)")

[armpirate]

Until You're Mine || Choi San | Ch. 4

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: Mafia!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, obsession, mafia love

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, explicit language, mention of drug and guns, violence, rough sex.

Summary: San, a notorious and feared mafia boss, has always lived in the shadows of power and violence. When an ambush leaves him wounded and on the run, he finds refuge in an empty event hall. Inside, Y/n, a rising star in the world of event planning, is nursing her own wounds -a career on the line after a confrontation with a powerful client. The last thing she expects is for her night to take a dark turn when San stumbles into her life, bloodied and dangerous.

Despite the fear and uncertainty, Y/n can't turn away. She helps him clean up, binding more than just his wounds in the process. What begins as an intense, chance encounter spirals into a dangerous obsession. San, used to being the hunter, becomes fixated on the one woman who dared to help him, even in his darkest moment. Meanwhile, Y/n, caught in the mystery of that powerful man, finds herself tracking his every move, unable to shake the dangerous allure of his world.

Neither knows that their fascination with each other is mutual. In a city teeming with danger, power, and deceit, their secret obsessions will pull them deeper into a deadly game -one where love, power, and obsession intertwine, and nothing is as it seems.

Chapter duration: 18 minutes

Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the sleek black box sitting ominously on her dresser. She hadn't seen anyone approach her door. There wasn't any evidence of who that necklace belonged to, it was just there when she returned home that morning. The polished surface gleamed under the soft light, elegant yet mysterious. A deep crimson ribbon sealed it shut, tying it with a sense of purpose that made her stomach twist in unease. She hadn't dare to open it, she wasn't even sure she wanted to know what was inside.

Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled the ribbon loose, her breath catching when she lifted the lid. Inside lay a delicate necklace: a silver chain with a small, black obsidian pendant with the shape of a small crescent moon. It was simple, yet impossibly striking, and somehow, it felt personal.

Too personal.

Her fingers traced the smooth surface of the stone as her mind raced while she kept wondering who would have sent it, although her mind was already picking together the hints. There was only one person it could be. San. The obsidian filling the moon was the only indicator she needed.

Her heart pounded. The man she should be running from. The man she was instead chasing, like a moth to a flame.

Her eyebrows frowned when she linked together two details she thought weren't related at all.

On one side, she had the necklace, but then... there was the invitation.

It had arrived just hours after she'd spent an exhausting night creating her fake identity, poring over details and convincing her contact -a friend she'd helped during a messy corporate event- to secure her access to the Obsidian Ventures charity gala. That identity was supposed to be her backup plan, a way to slip in unnoticed and avoid leaving hints that followed to her. But now, the pristine envelope lay on her coffee table, hand-delivered with her real name embossed in elegant gold lettering.

He wanted her there, unaware of how he ruined her plans.

Her grip tightened on the thin rosary around her neck, her thoughts spiraling. She wasn't sure what unnerved her more: the fact that her cover had already been compromised, or the realization that she didn't want to back out. Instead, she felt drawn in further. It meant he wanted her there as much as she wanted to be there.

It wasn't just about curiosity anymore; it was about understanding her connection to San and why he had chosen to involve her in his dangerous world.

Y/n found herself pacing her apartment late in the night a few minutes later, her mind racing. She had spent her life walking the safe line, carefully curating events, avoiding the spotlight, never getting too close to anything that could destabilize her career or her name. But that line blurred the night San walked into her world, bleeding and vulnerable. Since then, her once orderly life had been consumed by him.

"This is dangerous. Insane", she told herself. But her fingers still clutched the necklace, the weight of the obsidian pendant grounding her, while she held the invitation on the other hand, eyeing up every few curses.

Deep down, she couldn't deny the thrill coursing through her. It wasn't just the mystery of San, it was how he made her feel. Like she mattered in ways she hadn't before.

Yet, a part of her hesitated. She was crossing into a world she didn't understand, risking her safety and reputation. The rational side of her screamed to walk away, to report the strange gift and the invitation to the authorities. But instead, she stood rooted in place, captivated by the allure of danger.

By mid-afternoon the next day, she noticed something different when returning home from work. The black car that had been parked near her apartment for days was gone. No lingering shadows, no figures lurking on the corner. She should have felt relieved, but instead, an unsettling emptiness crept in. The idea of San being the one watching her should've made all of her alarms jump but, instead, it felt like a reciprocation and encouragement to what she was feeling.

She peered out the window, scanning the street below, but it was empty. The absence of the car felt louder than its presence ever had. She couldn't shake the feeling that all that was deliberate, that she was being given space.

Whoever was watching her, they were waiting. And she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of standing still.

Her eyes flicked to the invitation. Tomorrow night, she'd attend the gala, not as an anonymous stranger, but as herself. If San wanted her involved, she'd find out exactly why. And if he thought he could control her, he was about to learn she wasn't someone to be manipulated.

With a deep breath, Y/n placed the necklace around her neck, right above the rosary she had been carrying since she was a kid. It felt heavier than she expected, but she wore it anyway. She needed the reminder of what she was getting into.

Tomorrow, she'd get her answers. One way or another.

San stood in the shadows of his penthouse balcony, the lights of the city sprawled out beneath him. The evening breeze carried a hint of cold, but he barely noticed. His focus was elsewhere. His phone buzzed in his hand, the screen illuminating Mingi's latest report.

—She's still in her apartment —Mingi's voice came through, steady and precise—. The invitation was delivered this morning. She hasn't left, but she's been pacing. And seems like she's actually talking alone. Actually, if I were her, I'd definitely buy better curtains, because I can clearly see everything she does from the apartment.

San's lips curled into a faint smirk. Seemed like there was a lot to debate with herself. He could almost see her: her brow furrowed, her fingers nervously tapping against that invitation. He imagined the confusion that flickered in her eyes when she found the box with the necklace, her hands lingering on the obsidian pendant as though it could offer her answers.

—Anything else? —San asked, though he already knew what he wanted to hear.

—She made a few calls earlier —Mingi continued—. Although nothing seemed out of the ordinary. They were probably work related —he clicked his tongue—. And seems like she also tried to come to the gala. Earlier this morning the organizer received a call from a suspicious woman, whose identity we couldn't check because she didn't exist.

A pause hung between them, heavy with implication.

—Should we intervene? —Mingi asked— It's risky to let her know she can pull those moves without consequences.

San remained silent for a long moment, his gaze locked on the distant skyline. "Letting her go without consequences? She was the consequence" he rolled the thought over in his mind. The logical part of him, the one that had built an empire and crushed rivals without hesitation, told him to shut it all down now. She was unpredictable, a wildcard who didn't belong in his world.

But the part of him that couldn't stop thinking about her... that part craved more.

—No —he finally said, his voice calm but firm—. Let her think she can get away with that little attempt.

There was a beat of surprise from Mingi's end before he responded. "

—You're sure?

—She's already too deep —San replied, his tone laced with something darker—. Let's see how far she's willing to go. I want her to walk into the lion's den on her own terms.

He ended the call without waiting for a response, slipping the phone into his pocket. His fingers drummed lightly against the balcony railing, his mind turning over the next steps.

Still with one hand on the railing, he scrolled through his phone with his other hand, checking the three pictures Jongho sent him under his command. She was so delicate, so innocent... it seemed impossible for him to ever be able to corrupt her the way he was looking forward to. But, at the same time, she seemed to fit so easily for him that it made him think there wasn't really anything to corrupt.

It wasn't just curiosity on her part; it was more. He could feel it. She was trying to get closer to him, but not in the way his rivals did. There was no desperation for power, no leverage in her actions, only a quiet determination that both intrigued and unsettled him.

The next day, San moved back into the warmth of his office, where Wooyoung was waiting, leaning casually against the edge of the desk. His friend's sharp eyes tracked him as he entered, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

—So —Wooyoung began—, she's really coming to the gala. Bold move.

San poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light.

—She's curious. And I'm just feeding that curiosity so she won't be making weird moves that could play against us.

—Curious? —Wooyoung raised an eyebrow—. Seems more than that. People don't risk everything just for curiosity. She's got something driving her.

San swirled the whiskey in his glass, his gaze distant. "What is driving you, Y/n?" he wanted to believe it was just her search for answers, but deep down, he suspected there was something more. He wasn't sure if it was fear or fascination that pushed her forward.

—I'll be there —San said finally, setting his glass down—. Close enough to see her reaction, and keep her controlled.

—And if she figures out who's really behind that invitation? —Wooyoung asked, folding his arms across his chest.

—That's the point —San's smirk deepened.

Later that night, San made a quiet call to the gala's organizer. A simple instruction, veiled in subtlety: ensure that Y/n received just enough information to lead her deeper into the game. Perhaps a mention of a project under Obsidian Ventures tied to something personal, something that would make her question her involvement, make her feel like she was piecing together a puzzle only he could complete.

He wanted her close enough to catch glimpses of the truth but never enough to grasp it fully. And when she realized she was in too deep, she would have no choice but to rely on him.

As he hung up, San allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability. His fingers brushed over the spot where the necklace had rested against her skin that night in the venue. And now they were wearing the same necklace, with the only difference being a thinner chain for her -it was impulsive, a symbol of something he didn't fully understand. But he liked the feeling of possession she wasn't aware of.

It felt like a connection between them. A thread pulling them closer, tighter.

And at the gala, he would tighten that thread until there was no escaping it. For either of them.

When he arrived there, San stood in front of the large floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city below. His reflection stared back at him, calm and composed. But beneath that, a storm brewed.

"She's not ready for what she's walking into," he thought to himself.

But neither was he.

The grand ballroom of the Obsidian Ventures charity gala was a spectacle of opulence. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, golden glow, reflecting off the polished marble floors. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, fine wine, and whispered conversations. Guests dressed in their finest mingled, their laughter and chatter creating a symphony of wealth and power.

Y/n stood near the edge of the crowd, her fingers tightening around the delicate stem of a champagne flute. The invitation had arrived without explanation, elegantly sealed with the Obsidian Ventures emblem. At first, she thought it was a mistake. But as the weight of the obsidian necklace resting against her collarbone reminded her of the night she helped San, she knew it was intentional.

Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face, yet hoping not to find one. Her mind kept asking why she'd be invited there and what exactly she was thinking of when she agreed to go.

The answer came shortly after: He knew she'd be there... he wanted her there.

Taking a deep breath, she downed the rest of her champagne, setting the glass on a passing tray. Her gaze drifted to the far end of the room, where a small group of powerful men gathered, their conversation hushed but intense. Y/n edged closer, pretending to admire a nearby floral arrangement, catching snippets of their conversation.

—...the expansion is just a front —one whispered—. San's control goes deeper than Obsidian Ventures. He owns more than just properties, he controls the city's underbelly...

Her pulse quickened. San's control... deeper than Obsidian Ventures? It was a mere fragment, but it stirred every instinct she had. She shifted back, blending into the crowd, her mind racing.

It was quite obvious he controlled more than his own company. That man was powerful enough to gather the most important people in Detroit in a gala where they'd only be reminded there was someone richer and more powerful than all of them.

And she didn't know that same person was only able to have his eyes on her.

San watched her from across the room, his presence calm but every nerve on high alert. The pristine white of his tailored suit made him stand out amidst the sea of dark tuxedos, yet he moved with a confidence that kept people at a respectful distance.

She hadn't noticed him yet, but he noticed everything about her. The way her fingers trembled slightly when she thought no one was watching. The way she moved with purpose but kept her distance from the heart of the room. She was careful, yet her curiosity blazed in her eyes.

Mingi approached from the side, his voice low.

—She must've heard it —Yunho let him know from the side—. Too little to piece anything together, but enough to keep digging.

Obviously, Y/n didn't know, but the men she had overheard talking about were part of the big group of people on his payroll. He was more careful than letting people out of his control know his business, and even less air them out on a public event like that one.

San's jaw tightened, though his expression remained neutral. He took a slow sip of his drink.

—Let her dig —he murmured—. The deeper she goes, the more she'll realize there's no way out.

—Are you sure about this? —Yunho's gaze flicked toward Y/n, then back to San— What will we gain with that?

His business? Nothing. But his own self? Probably everything.

—It's a dangerous game.

—I'm not playing —San replied, his voice sharper than intended—. I'm giving her a choice. Let's see if she takes it.

—I still don't understand —he insisted—. What's so important about her? She doesn't want to expose you, that should be enough for...

San's gaze was deathly, forcing the taller man to cut his words mid-sentence. He hesitated, but he ended up giving a curt nod before retreating.

San set his glass down and moved, weaving through the crowd with calculated ease until he was standing directly behind Y/n. She was staring ahead, her focus so intense she didn't sense him at first. He leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear.

—You're not blending in as well as you think.

She startled, spinning around to face him, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and something else, something closer to fascination. She recognized his voice, it had been the only sound remaining in her head since the night they met, yet somehow she still was surprised when she found him standing in front of her.

—I wasn't really trying to —she finally admitted.

It was true though. She was used to those parties, but never as a guest. She was part of the people that kept walking with careful steps not to bother anyone, always attentive to others' needs. Being the one that received that attention took her out of character.

San's eyes moved down from her eyes, to her red tinted lips, down to the necklace that almost made him groan by the way it rested in between her breaths, almost disappearing down the cleavage of her black dress.

San's dark eyes met hers, steady and unreadable.

—You've walked into something far from ordinary, and you keep forcing your way in despite knowing it isn't what you're used to —he murmured, his tone even, almost detached—. Do you realize where you are?

Y/n's breath hitched. She parted her lips, words on the tip of her tongue, but hesitation rooted her in place. The air between them felt charged, every second stretching longer than it should.

She knew he didn't mean the venue, but everything that decored it. Every flower, every expensive suite and even more expensive dress, every deep chuckle... and all the conversations she wasn't allowed to hear, but he did know every word of them.

He meant his world, his life.

—I... —she started, then stopped, unsure of how to continue.

San tilted his head slightly, closing the small distance between them. His voice dropped, soft but heavy.

—Curiosity has a way of leading people into strange places. You think you're here by chance? —his lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile—. Or are you here because you wanted to be?

The subtle implication made her pulse quicken. She didn't know if it was a challenge or a warning, or both.

—I don't believe in coincidences —she finally said, her voice steadier than she felt.

—Neither do I —San replied, his gaze unwavering—. But sometimes, it's better not to know everything right away —he stepped back slightly, giving her space, but the weight of his words lingered.

Their silence was louder than the music surrounding them. Y/n wasn't sure if he was testing her or offering her a way out. Yet, despite the unease curling in her stomach, she didn't want to leave.

For a moment, neither moved. It was as if the world around them had faded, leaving only the two of them in a shared vortex of danger and desire. Then, unexpectedly, he extended his hand.

—Dance with me —he said, the command subtle but clear.

Her hesitation was brief. She placed her hand in his, and he led her onto the dance floor. The music swelled around them, but the rhythm of their hearts beat louder. Her whole body reacted when his palm brought her closer to his body, firm on her waist, until there wasn't a single gap between them. His grip was firm, his presence overwhelming, yet she didn't pull away. Not even when she felt smaller under his gaze with each passing second.

As they moved, she felt his eyes on her, watching, waiting. His touch burned through the fabric of her dress, his hand resting lightly on her lower back. Every step was a silent exchange, a push and pull neither could resist.

—How's your wound? —she managed to ask.

—Still healing —he confessed.

Her grip on his hand weakened for a second, almost as if losing focus from him. But San wasn't going to allow her to do that. His fingers held her hand tighter, before he spoke again:

—I didn't expect you here —San murmured, his lips close to her ear. His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it carried over the music, wrapping around her like a silk thread—. But then again, you seem to enjoy surprises.

—I received an invitation —her gaze flickered up to meet his—. I thought it would be rude to decline —her tone was light, but beneath it lay a simmering challenge.

San's lips curled into a subtle smile, though his eyes remained unreadable.

—Did you really come out of politeness? —his thumb brushed the curve of her waist, a feather-light touch that sent a rush of heat through her.

Y/n leaned in slightly, her fingers tightening around his shoulder.

—Why else would I be here? —she countered, her voice steady, though her pulse raced beneath his touch.

San's grip on her waist firmed just enough for her to notice.

—Curiosity —he said, his breath warm against her cheek—. It's a dangerous thing when you're not sure who's watching.

Her chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, but there was no mistaking the fire in her eyes.

—And are you watching, San?

His name on her lips was a trigger, because it meant she was so into everything she went the lengths to research about his company and find out his name.

His jaw clenched subtly, but he didn't look away.

—Always.

A shiver ran down her spine, though it had nothing to do with the coolness of the room. His words, though simple, were layered with meaning. He wasn't just talking about that night. He was talking about everything: her every move since that night they crossed paths.

Her fingers glided along his shoulder as they moved, the tension between them tightening like a coiled spring.

—And what do you see? —she whispered, leaning closer, her breath grazing his neck.

San's eyes darkened, his hand pressing more firmly against her back, pulling her against him.

—Someone who doesn't know when to walk away.

—Maybe I'm not afraid of what I'll find —her heart hammered, but she didn't pull back.

He tilted his head, their faces now mere inches apart. His lips hovered near hers, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him.

—You should be.

Y/n's breath hitched, but she didn't break eye contact. The tension between them was thick, palpable. Each step they took on the dance floor felt like a silent negotiation of power and desire. Neither willing to give in, yet both dangerously close to surrendering.

As the music softened into its final notes, San's hand lingered at her back, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent a rush of adrenaline through her. He leaned in, his mouth near her ear.

—This isn't a game you can win, Y/n —he murmured, his voice rougher now, more possessive—, but I'll let you play.

When the dance ended, he leaned in close once more, his lips just inches from her ear.

—This is only the beginning, Y/n —he attacked—. I said I'd find you, and I did. I'm saying I'm watching, and you can be sure that I admire every detail as if it was my own.

Before she could respond, he pulled back, his expression unreadable, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving her breathless and trembling in his wake.

Before she could respond, the music ended, and San released her, stepping back just enough to leave her breathless and wanting more. His eyes swept over her one last time, as though marking her in his mind before turning and blending into the crowd.

Y/n stood there, heart racing, heat still radiating from where his hands had been. She didn't know whether she wanted to chase after him or run in the opposite direction. All she knew was that whatever this was, it wasn't over. And neither of them wanted it to be.

Y/n stood frozen, her mind spinning. She didn't know if it was the dance, his words, or the undeniable connection between them, but something inside her shifted. She was no longer just curious. She was captivated.

And San? He had every intention of making sure she stayed that way.

Taglist: @a-tiny-thing @brown88

[tarnishedxknight]

Soryn worked quickly to spread the word through the ranks of the Royal Guard that a plot was being uncovered. The guardsmen were told what to look for in Basch's twin, as well as a passphrase they were to require from anyone appearing as Basch did who tried to get close to the king. Once most of the guard on duty currently within the palace had been told, Soryn left the palace to continue to disseminate the information among the guardsmen keeping posts elsewhere in the city of Rabanastre.

Although the princess had not been named in the assassination attempt, she had still been a target of Vossler's, and so Basch left to find her, leaving a few guardsmen to keep an eye on the prince and king. She ought to know what was happening. When he reached her quarters, however, he suddenly felt so nervous, not knowing how he would respond to everything. Knowledge was power, though, and he did not believe in keeping Ashelia ignorant of everything as her father did...

- - - - -

Reks could not keep from smiling at the sweet little creature as he pet the lizard. He was happy to help in the process of holding the lizard, since it seemed to bring the creature so much joy.

"You are very welcome," Reks said when Drax translated. Although he only heard the same thing uttered by the creature in different inflections, apparently they all meant different things? What a fascinating language this was! "They are fascinating, indeed. My brother and I used to catch and keep them as pets when we were younger," he shared. "There are so many of them, all around the city, and in the surrounding desert as well."

"Hello, Groot. Well met again, Drax. My name is Reks," the young man said, his warm smile growing a bit more. "Is there anything either of you need at present? You are guests of the Crown, after all, and I know... I know things have not gone as they ought to have, since you arrived. I am sorry for that, and if there is anything I can do to help in any way, I would be happy to," he offered.

As he was saying this, another member of the guard approached. "Reks!" the man called.

"Hello, Arvin," Reks said. "What's wrong?"

The guard eyed Groot and Drax but continued nonetheless. "Dire word from the palace. These are two of the Crown's guests, are they not?" he asked.

"Yes, they are. Why?" Reks asked.

"An assassination plot against His Majesty and Prince Caelen has been uncovered by their comrades," said Arvin.

"What?!" Reks said, shocked by the news.

"Ser Vedrai is informing all of us of what we need know. Captain Ronsenburg has an identical twin brother, estranged, in Archadia. This twin is going to use their shared appearance to get close to the king and prince and assassinate them. You must know what to look for, and there is a passphrase you must ask anyone who looks like our Captain, should he come close to the royal family." Arvin looked at the Guardians. "Perhaps you should know all of this as well. The more who do, the less chance the plot will be successful."

- - - - -

The maids were very efficient in dressing Mantis, not wanting to waste the guest's time or risk upsetting her. They were friendly enough, though, if spoken to. Otherwise, they were quiet. Their low rank in the social hierarchy of the palace dictated that they not overly speak unless spoken to, but if they got the impression that the person they were serving didn't care to adhere to strictly to that, they loosened up a bit.

When asked to stay behind and help with the ribbon around Mantis' waist, the pregnant maid politely smiled. "Of course, m'lady," she said, having no problem in tying a beautiful bow at the small of Mantis' back. "There you are, m'lady. You look very fetching, if you don't mind my saying it." She was a petite woman with long sandy colored hair and brown eyes. Very pretty, she was, but there was sadness that seemed to follow her around, even when she smiled.

"Of course, m'lady," she repeated when asked to stay and talk. She wasn't supposed to dawdle, but if asked by a guest to remain for a conversation, then it was permitted well enough. "My name is Elin, Lady Mantis," she said softly. "What is it you wish to talk about?"

- - - - -

Back in the throne room, King Raminas seemed to deflate with each new bit of information Gamora shared about all of Vossler's treachery. Caelen stood by, concerned for his father. The man was not young anymore, and his health had declined in recent years. Caelen hoped this would not further exacerbate it, but it found it hard to imagine how it could not.

"Gods..." the king said, lowering his head into his hand. "This... All of this will need to be properly documented, taken down officially at Vossler's trial. I want the trial to happen soon after Ashelia's wedding. There is no excusing any of this... disgusting behavior. I am ashamed to say he was ever named Knight of the Order."

"Father..." Caelen said. "We will set it right now. As best we can."

"Perhaps, in some ways, it is too late," Raminas said with an air of hopelessness.

"It is not too late," Caelen insisted.

"This... was not the kingdom I'd hoped to leave to you, my son," Raminas said, his eyes turning sad as he lifted his head. "One tarnished and sullied by disgrace... with the Empire beating down its doors..."

"We will endure somehow, father. Wait for Munoh to return with word of the King of Nabradia's reply, and we will better know how to proceed from there," he said, ever the optimist and trying to keep Raminas' spirits up as much as possible. Caelen then turned to Gamora. "Thank you for all you've done. You and your comrades," he said, realizing he was going to have to take the reins a bit here. His father was collapsing a bit under the weight of everything. "Given what has happened, I naturally will not ask you to stay or help any further, but if you wish to... know that if there is anything I can do or anything that you need, you have my assistance and gratitude."

Just then, Munoh reappeared in the throne room, first only to Caelen, and then to everyone else present. Raminas' eyes widened nervously to see the Occurian again, but Caelen smiled. "Welcome back, my friend. Do you bring word from Nabradia?"

"I do," Munoh said. "Regards, the king sends," they said, looking at Raminas, "though he wishes circumstances were not as they are. The Archadian invasion was already known to him, the Empire's approach seen by scouts from the skies. However, news of the involvement of nethicite changes much for him. Perhaps bravely or foolishly, hist'ry shall decide, he intends to resist the invasion in Nabudis. Stand or fall, he requests that his children, Prince Rasler and Princess Eswynn, be granted sanctuary here. Even now, they are preparing to travel to Rabanastre by airship. They know nothing of nethicite, nothing of the impending ruin of their capital city. They believe they are arriving for the wedding and nothing more. The king asks that their ignorance be preserved, for if Prince Rasler discovers the truth, he will return to Nabudis and likely throw his life away."

Raminas appeared even more overwhelmed by this news, but Caelen took it in stride. "Then we must prepare to receive them. It is only a couple of hours travel by airship from Nabudis to Rabanastre. Perhaps we should welcome them with a dinner. Shall I tell the kitchens to prepare something, father?"

"Yes..." Raminas said with a slow nod. "We should prepare something to properly receive them, though it is hardly a time to celebrate."

"As far as they know, it is. Rasler and Ashelia are to be married. That is certainly something to celebrate, is it not?" Caelen said.

"Yes..." Raminas repeated. "She ought to be present at the dinner."

"As should Basch. He is the Captain of the Guard and of the Order, after all," Caelen said. "And I think..." He looked at Gamora. "I think we should invite our guests."

Raminas looked as though he wanted to disagree, but with Gamora standing right there, and with everything the Dalmascan experience thus far had thrown at them, he found it difficult to do so.

"I agree," Munoh said, floating slowly around Gamora.

"They must not mention the invasion to the prince and princess if they do," Raminas said. "Rasler is a headstrong lad. If he catches wind of a threat to his homeland and to his father, he will return to fight. His safety and perhaps his life depends upon his ignorance in the matter."

Another Time, Another Place (A Hollow Universe In Space) || closed with tarnishedxknight

@tarnishedxknight continued from here

The Guardians stood there, letting Captain Basch formally introduce them to King Raminas. They all then bowed respectfully except for Rocket, who only did so because Gamora pushed his head down. They trusted Basch for the most part, as he assured them no one would hurt them after telling them to leave their weapons at the ship. Quill and Gamora were the first ones to leave theirs; Drax didn't want to leave his knives, but did so after Mantis looked at him, while Rocket pulled a comical amount of retractable weapons from his pockets.

As they followed Basch, Mantis had stayed behind for a moment to approach Vossler. She felt much better after Munoh sent her some calm energy, and she smirked at the man. Suddenly, her hand was on his cheek, her antennae aglow. "Whenever you open your mouth to say something unkind, you will wail like a baby. Honestly, it might be more coherent than anything else you have said," she whispered. She patted his cheek twice as if to seal her whimsical behest, and hurried to follow the Guardians as Basch guided them through the palace of Rabanastre.

Quill straightened and cleared his throat to speak to the King. Mantis took his hand; Quill was a little confused, but he allowed it since he knew she wasn't feeling great.

"Your Majesty," he said, once again lowering his voice in an attempt to mirror Basch's formal tone and presence, hoping it would make the King like him more. "We come in peace. We thank you for your time, and we apologize for occupying one of your docks. I think I have–" He stopped talking rather suddenly, and swallowed. "Uh... I think... I have..."

What was happening was that Mantis was frantically reading his thoughts as he spoke, using her powers to interrupt him because he was going to say he had the perfect stuff to make up for it, wanting to show the King some Terran music with the Zune. While Terran music was excellent, Mantis knew not everyone would like it, nor find it an acceptable form of apology.

"I have no excuse," Quill said instead. "And I have to... shut up... now."

[abby-the-druid]

Technicolor 6

In which Sakura discovers a supernova.

read on ao3 and ff.net.

prev. chapter | next chapter

Preview:

Then.

Sakura, Sasuke found as the days blended into weeks, did indeed share smiles with strangers as if it was as easy for her as breathing. Small talk came to her as though it were second nature, effortlessly offering feedback to their fellow classmates about their art, providing analysis linking past and current events in their history class, and asking clarifying questions during calculus. It made Sasuke’s head spin, thinking about how many words she shared with people she didn’t know, how often she slipped into a smile and offered support to someone she only recognized as an acquaintance.

He understood that he fell into this latter category, though reflecting on that fact made his stomach twist uncomfortably and a bleak pit to bloom under his navel.

He found himself sitting in front of her in their history class, contained in another musty room with subpar lighting. But with the way the professor valued active learning, their desks were often pushed together and he sat across from her radiation green eyes as she smiled and shared her ideas with the other two members of their four-person squad. He refused to admit that a flicker of jealousy licked at his gut every time she blessed their idiot classmates with a smile or her attention. The boy who was partial to wearing green jumpsuits with a severe bowl cut and thick eyebrows had the ability to make her laugh, a sharp yet pleasant sound that bubbled from her chest, and Sasuke felt himself drowning in the noise, desperately wishing he had the ability to share that part of himself so freely or the skill to draw such mirth from the elf girl.

Their calculus class was bursting at the seams with students, so many were crammed into the small space that as Sasuke sat beside Sakura, their shoulders brushed, which seemed to regularly catch the quiet attention of their silver haired, navy masked professor. The first forty-five-minute period she apologized softly every time she bumped into him, a light pink color dusting her cheeks as her green eyes fluttered between Dr. Hatake, Sasuke, and her notebook. The second-class period she lost some of this embarrassment, simply sent him a lopsided smile as an apology. By the third class, she nudged closer to his side to avoid the sharp elbows of the student to her right.

Sasuke did not take this as a small victory.

He assumed Sakura just didn’t want to be constantly jostled by her other seat mate.

Telling himself this did not stifle the warmth that tinged his ears when she pressed softly against his side, smelling like daisies and coffee.

[gingermintpepper]

I know everyone knows the story of Actaeon and how he met a terrible fate by stumbling upon Artemis bathing in her forest but did you know that Actaeon was Apollo's grandson? That his father was Aristaeus, lord of the bees and the rustic arts and his mother was Autonoe, daughter of Cadmus and princess of Thebes?

Did you know he was trained by Chiron? That he was considered a hunter so skilled his talent was considered divine, that he was his parents' only child and that he was loved?

Did you know the grief that consumed the household when word of Actaeon's fate reached them? That Cadmus cut his hair, that Harmonia wept and was disconsolate and that his parents... well, Autonoe walked the length of the forest, keeping a sharp eye out for her son, but all she saw were the scattered bones of a fawn. Aristaeus too, had heard his son was torn apart and so fruitlessly, foolishly searched for the bones of a man. (There was none to be found)

Did you know that it was Actaeon's ghost, unhappy and unburied, trapped on the earth, who leaned over his sleeping father and told him of his fate? "You will not find me as you knew me, gather me as a stag." And Aristaeus immediately woke his wife and told her the truth, and together they grieved all the night long.

(Did you know that this is why Aristaeus abandons Boeotia? He could not stand the sight of it and so he went to Ceos. And there he slayed the dog-star. And there he became a healing wind. All in the name of his only son, that foolish, beloved Actaeon.)