#he has back pain you can’t convince me otherwise

[vatoffakeacid]

He’s getting too “old” for this guys—

I always felt like Rick would rock the white hair streaks. Kinda like a lion lmao. Also I’m so proud of how I drew Morty’s hands. AGHFK I fucking love them.

[togament]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. sakura, ume, kaji, suo, kiryu, togame.

"ever caught yourself fantasizing how they'd be as your lover? ever wanted to smooch them so badly you just wanna-- look no further, sweetie."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: general FLUFF NATION BABIIIEEEE, a bit of language but only if you squint a little, I made it as gender neutral as possible but pls lmk if I made some mistakes!, our men are lovesick and absolutely down bad BAD, quick mention of bumping uglies, kaji the crowdkiller, brainworm infestation things, bibi went to yap town with togame's.

𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚.

- big on acts of service BUT IS HORRIBLE AT HIDING HOW MUCH HE LIKES DOING STUFF FOR YOU. hear me out. he’d be the one opening doors for you, covering your head with his jacket when it’s raining outside (he’s getting soaked and you nag him about getting sick)…. all that. He’s blushing profusely. When you smile up at him, he immediately smiles back but then he claps a hand over his mouth to hide it. Give him time ok he’ll come around.

- he loves you. of course that’s a given because you’re his lover BUT BUT. he love LOVES you. like a lot. so much that it’s kind of painful, you know what I mean? Like he wants to express it so friggin bad, but he doesn’t know how to. His words escape him, he panics when he makes a move. He’s spent many a night just staring down at you with the most lovestruck eyes while you’re fast asleep. Tears falling from his eyes because he’s so happy you chose HIM of all people. He never thought he’d be worthy of being loved, of being trusted, of being CONSIDERED. You gave all of that to him and more. GOD he loves you.

- is super conflicted about PDA lol sometimes he wants to hold your hand in public, kiss you all over, hug you, but god damn it he’s blushing from head to toe whenever he’s around you. He’s got the cuteness aggression fever but he can’t let it ouuuttttt 🗣️🗣️🗣️

𝐮𝐦𝐞.

- EVERYTHING IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE. Like, if you’re not into physical touch, he’d do something else for you. If you’re not the acts of service type and you wanna do stuff yourself, that’s cool too!!! He can manage!!!! Although he’d want to help you out so bad but…. He’s cheering on you from the sidelines. On that note, he’s your biggest (and loudest) cheerleader! You’d have an achievement and no matter how small or big it is, his friends and neighbors and the random strangers he passes by know about it and how amazing you are. BECAUSE YOU ARE.

- loves it when you help him out in the garden hehehe loves it extra if you know how to take care of the veggies and fruits hehehehe like, you’d be tending to the potted plants and he’s checking for aphids on the other side of the garden. You’re actively pruning the basil the right way so it’d grow bushier, you’re hand pollinating the pumpkins, you even suggested on doing the three sisters method so you’d yield more harvest in the coming months. He may or may not have begged you to marry him once or fifty times every time he’s caught you doing that. (Ofc you’ve said yes once or fifty times lol)

- WORST CUTENESS AGGRESSION FEVER SUFFERER. You cannot convince me otherwise. You’d be doing the most mundane things, walking down the road with him, lounging on the couch with your belly out and body contorted in the most unattractive position, just STANDING THERE….. he’s immediately on you, peppering kisses everywhere his lips can reach, hugging you so close, rubbing his face all over youdbjfjdndnnd CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS UMEMIYA AND UMEMIYA IS CUTENESS AGGRESSION. If he could he’d bite you. He has btw. On multiple occasions. The tiniest, softest chomp though.

- never fails to tell you how much he loves you. On the daily, on the fly, every time he meets your eyes. “I love you” so easily slips from his lips, he expresses it so easily but it never loses its meaning with him. He means it every time he utters those three words. You can feel it too. Just… don’t ask him to elaborate because he’d drop anything he’s doing just to explain to you as to how and why and what and where and—uh oh is he crying?????

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐤𝐚𝐣𝐢.

- WOULD MAKE PLAYLISTS FOR YOU. Hear me out again. He’s horrible with words ok? Like he’s thorny. He’d say the meanest things accidentally sometimes without him realizing that. So, he makes playlists for you. He’s made one for himself when he first realized he had a crush on you, btw. Don’t tell him I told you. Notice how he’s had his headphones on his head whenever you first started talking to him? Yeah he was listening to it when he saw you passing by. Best music taste btw. Listens to all genres too like he doesn’t discriminate. Get him started on some hardcore bands though, he’s yapping. Eyebrows furrowed. (He likes rowdy places but doesn’t get rowdy? Canonically too? Yeah the man’s outside the pit pushing the crowdkillers away from you. CATCH HIM IN THE PIT THOUGH OH MY GOD THAT’S A CROWDKILLER RIGHT THERE.) on that note, he loves going to gigs with you. You wanna go check a local band? He’s immediately got ticket stubs for their next gig.

- another acts of service guy. You see those tiktoks of girls grabbing something under the table and the guy holding the corner of the table so she wouldn’t accidentally hit it? Or like when you got full hands and you can’t go to open the door, the guy’s materialized beside you, opening it for you? Yeah that’s him. Real subtle about it though. Don’t bring attention to it pls unless you want him to not look at you for a couple of minutes (he’s blushing pls be patient)

- the type to nag at you when you get hurt. Man oh MAN does he nag. He’s gone through one too many fights already so he knows how to patch himself up real nice. But when YOU get hurt, he’s immediately digging through his first aid kit, cleaning your wound and patching you up while nagging you to be more careful next time, what if he wasn’t around to help, what if this what if that grumble grumble. He’s got his lollipop in his mouth btw. Pull it out for a second and GIVE HIM THE BIGGEST SMOOCH TO SHUT HIM UP PLEASE. Sweetest kisses. Both literally and figuratively 🥹

𝐬𝐮𝐨.

- GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN. Oh my god if you don’t want attention drawn to the both of you, never bring Suo out in public!!!!!!!! He does the most for you so effortlessly, so beautifully, people swoon and get jealous because of it. The type to give you flowers too. Not just on special occasions too. And not just flowers in a bouquet. No. The flowers are already arranged in a vase so you wouldn’t have to worry about grabbing a vase yourself. Goodness your normal dates would seem so extravagant when he’s around. You’d be eating at a McDonald’s and you’re looking over at your lover and he looks so dashing and he smells so good and he’s got the softest smile anfjdjjdj UGHHHHHH!!!!!! But if you’re not into flowers, he’d find some other way to express his love for you in a different way. Whatever you’re comfortable with, he’s down for.

- big tease. He likes seeing you squirm and pout when he’s playing a little prank on you. You swear you can see a slight blush on his cheeks when you pout but it’s so so subtle you think it’s the lighting.

- is not afraid to express how much he absolutely LOVES you. If you need reassurance, he’s pulling you to the side to talk about it. If you need him to kiss you more, oh he’s doing THAT AND MORE. If you’re the jealous type, even better. He’s smooching you in front of the person you think is flirting with him. But if you’re not into that intense stuff, he’s pulling you into the conversation, keeping a hand on your waist and looking over to you for an extra opinion. Lays on the “dove”, “my love”, “my sweet”, “my heart”, T H I C K . And I fucking mean THICK.

𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐮.

- *dreamy sigh* a fucking dreamboat is what he is. You could never, EVER go wrong with kiryu, man. I swear. A gentleman through and through. Takes you on spontaneous dates, likes going to arcades with you and winning you the biggest plushie!!!! (he’s really good at it), would take you on perfume dates (HE SMELLS GOOD CANONICALLY UGH), would even do your make up for you. Ugh. UGH. He’d be the best partner you could ever ask for. Y’know those perfect couples on tiktok? That’s you and him. But it’s all genuine, baby. That’s just how he loves.

- big on matching outfits. But not the blatant matching ones, no. Like, same color palettes, same textures, YES. YES. The outfit brainstorming is part of your dates too. He’d let you borrow his clothes if you want, he’d even let you spritz some of his most expensive perfumes 😭!!!!

- SKINCARE DATES TOO. WOAH WOAH WOAH. like, he has a AM/PM routine but he'd love to do it with you! he'd suggest all the best stuff for your skin, check if your skin's more on the dry side, oily side, yes. your man knows his shit and it SHOWS. your skin's practically glowing when you're with him. boyfriend air doesn't exist.

- IF YOU NEED REASSURANCE AND A HYPEMAN HE IS YOUR FUCKING GUY I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. God he’d see you looking at yourself in the mirror, fussing over how you look and practically putting yourself down, his heart would break. Like, how could you not see how he sees you? He’s taking you in his arms and telling you everything he absolutely adores about you, how beautiful you are, showering you with praise on the sweetest most kiryu way possible. He’s peppering kisses along your tear streaked cheeks until you’re smiling again. “There’s that smile,” he says as he pulls away, cupping your face in his hands. Ugh he even has the most lovesick puppydog eyes for you. “I love you, alright? So much,” he kisses your forehead, “So, So much.” He whispers into your hairline. GOOOOODDDDDDD 🫂 and did I say HYPEMAN? I mean it. Do a little spin for him in your new clothes and he’s screaming and yelling and taking so much pictures of you!!!!! His instagram feed’s full of you, your couple photos, your dates… practically a fan account of your relationship. He loves you and he loves loving you!!!!!!!!! and if you're the jealous type, he'd be so patient with you. he'd reassure you to the moon and back!!! ofc since he's popular with girls, he'd do his best to reassure you that he only has his eyes on you and you alone.

- gaming nights with kiryu. Oh Gaming Nights With Kiryu please save me gaming nights with kiryu. He’s got a whole set up ready for the both of you, his PS5 hot and ready, snacks opened. It’s a special thing for the both of you too! He decorates his apartment in the theme of the game you’re both playing, horror game? His apartment looks like a horror house. Smash bros? BET. (He’ll be smashing you by the end of the night gehrhhrhehehehHgdhdhs). I know he’s got LED strips so he’s using that to his advantage too. Ok I’m getting carried away. Kiryu best partner best lover best everything.

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

- *RIPS SHIRT OPEN LIKE A WEREWOLF GRGEGGRHEHE BARKING!!!!!* TOGAMEEEEE!!!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ I am apologizing for this part, love. I’m gonna go hard.

- canonically doesn’t text. Only leaves you on read. Calling him though? CALLING HIM?? 🫠 he’s answering as soon as it rings. None of that “wait until the third ring” baloney. His baby’s calling. If he’s doing something before you called, HE’S DROPPING IT FOR YOU. And he answers in that deep voice of his and 🫠🫠🫠 sigh. You guys stay on the phone for hours. He’s the type to do things while he’s calling you too. If you’re away and he can’t be with you, he’d love it if you could stay on the phone with him for way longer too. Big on facetiming too. He’s fallen asleep with facetime on. You have a collection of screenshots of his pretty sleeping face. You’ve fallen asleep on facetime too. He doesn’t have as much screenshots though and he haaaates himself for it because he spends so much time just staring at you through his phone, smiling to himself like. FUCK he’s so in love with you!!!!! YOU!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ plus he’s got nervous shaky hands so hehe first time you guys facetimed you weren’t a couple yet. You fell asleep and he tried taking a screenshot and dropped his phone. The sound woke you up lol you give him shit about that moment sometimes, teasing him. He’s a blushing mess, elbowing you gently so you’d stop.

- AWKWARD TOGAME WHEN YOU GUYS FIRST DATED UGH SHIIIITTTTT!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ he’s canonically bad with groups of people and people in general. Choji had to adopt him forcefully into shishitoren ok? So that translates so SO well to you and your relationship with him. He may or may not have (allegedly, for legal reasons) asked for romance advice from Choji. He may or may not have (again, allegedly) tried that yawning and stretching trick so he could rest his arm behind you. No. Nope. Didn’t hear it from me.

- awkward and SHY togame when he made the first move on you!!!!!!! He had a ramune bottle in his hand because it was shaking so bad he couldn’t control it. You GAVE HIM HIS FIRST KISS DHHRHDHRRRRAAAAGHHH 🗣️🗣️🐺 you had to hold his other hand to stop it from trembling. Yours were too tbh hehe made him feel a bit better because you were just as nervous as he is.

- once you both are super into the relationship though, my goodness expect togame to be THE BEST PARTNER. See how he was with Choji? Did anything and everything to keep his smile? He’d do that for you too. Amp it up to a 100. His surprises are simple, never was one for grand gestures. But goodness you can feel the effort. Even employed some help from his old man pals at the community baths 🫠

- speaking of the old men, THEY WERE THE FIRST PEOPLE TO KNOW ABOUT HIS CRUSH ON YOU!!!!! Like, they were doting on togame when he expressed he’s never felt this way for someone before, how he can feel his heart racing and his face heating up when you’re around. They knew he was in love with you before he knew for himself.

- OF COURSE THEY KNEW YOUUU. So when you wanted to get into a relationship with togame, knowing it’s serious now, you went out of your way to meet up with the group of old men!!!! There, you discovered that togame has been talking about you nonstop. They already loved you for him before you formally met!!!!! They gave you their collective blessing, of course. You both are their grandchildren in their eyes.

- togame CAN COOK. EXPECT HIM TO COOK FOR YOU CONSTANTLY. And if you can cook, EVEN BETTER. Cooking dates, farmer’s market dates, izakaya dates, GASTRONOMY! You often surprise each other with decorated lunch boxes.

- nap dates all the time. Like, when you’re not bumping uglies or cooking or bonding with your friends, you both are asleep in each other’s arms. He gives the best hugs too. Like, those hugs that just cover you, you know?

- obviously, he loves you. But god damn it he wants to scream it into the world!!!! With the way he treats you though, constantly worrying about you, being there at your beck and call, pressing kisses into the crown of your head whenever you’re next to each other, he doesn’t need to scream it or utter a single word. You can just see the love he has for you. Everyone knows it.

- has thought about marrying you a couple times already. The type to call you his spouse teasingly too just to see you blush. He cannot wait to call you that officially. If he were good at technology, he would definitely have a pinterest board ready lol

a/n: wehehehehajsdkj hehehe togame. i missed writing for him, guys. THANK YOU FOR READING THROUGH TO THE END. some of the togame headcanons were from my convo with @yisxn!!! the ramune bottle detail was so perfect I couldn't skip it! also the asking for advice from the old men. YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL MIND ILYSM. thank you to @brainrot-of-a-thot for helping me clear up my brainfog last nightttt. also to you, reader, ILY. thank you for reading my word vomit!!!!!!!!!

[miaoua3]

Scoups spicy headcanons

Pairing: scoups x f!reader

Warnings: sex, mentions of oral, just nasty piece of work tbh lmao, MINORS DNI

Kind of a continuation of my tiktok post

Note:…i need to get dicked down, its been too long…anyway enjoy this

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

•his kisses are always soo deep, its just that pace that changes- when he’s desperate, his kisses become fast and filled with urge and need, when he wants to savour both you and the moment, he takes his time

•the type to spread his arms on the back rest of the couch while you sit on his lap and make out with him, will not touch you until you start whining and pleading of him to touch you

•loooves leaving hickeys. not only on your neck, but on your chest, your hips, your thighs and sometimes even your ass cheeks (in a shape of a little heart❤️)

•also likes it when you leave hickeys on him too, it shows to others that you both belong to somebody, except he doesn’t like to hide his while you literally spend tons of time and makeup trying to cover his piece of work

•two words: size kink. nothing gets him going quite like watching and comparing how much bigger he is compared to you, how his big hands can easily wrap themselves around your neck, your hands, your hips, anywhere really

•likes to just let his hand rest on your neck while kissing. not outright choking, but just…lets you feel the heavy weight of it on your thin neck

•a service dom, idk how people came to think that coups is this mean dom who just enjoys inflicting pain on you, like nuh-uh, this man literally lives to serve you, will listen to everything you got to say, if you say ‘a little more of this, a little bit less of that’ consider it already done. your pleasure is his first priority

•which brings me to- he won’t fuck you until you have cumed on his fingers (and/or face) at least two times.

•the mirror that’s facing your bed🤝him, loves nothing more than to fuck you from behind in front of the said mirror, loves just looking at your dazed look, how hard you try to keep your balance, how his hand looks around your neck

•very talkative in bed, from asking if you’re still okay to asking you things like “look at you, so pretty. who’s my pretty girl? hm? is this all for me baby? so wet, just for me? can you give me another one? cmon, my pretty girl, just one more, cum on my dick one more time, i know you can do it” NCHSIDBSIADBAI

•praise kink>>>>>>, idk who convinced yall that he would like degrading you, bro literally LOVES you, he has no reason to talk to you like that, he’s always just like “you’re doing so good, baby, taking this dick. fuck, so good, you’re taking me so well, can you take on more? of course you can, my girl can always take on more, cmon, that’s it” (currently manifesting this man in my life🙏)

•loooves it when you scratch his back unconsciously, just likes to look at it the next morning, wears it like a gold medal

•oh i just know he has a big dick, don’t even try to convince me otherwise, its both long and girthy, it’s always so overwhelming having him inside your pussy

•i always say- having a small dick is no excuse for being a bad partner, the universe gave you 10 fingers, a mouth and a lot of imagination. if you still can’t figure out how to please your partner, then it’s a you problem….lets just say cheol has no problems-with his size, his fingers skills, his tongue nor his imagination, he’s such a good lover, he will literally make you see stars

•speaking of-he asks you to sit on his face and literally to almost suffocate him at least two times a week. he just loves feeling your weight on his face, your smell surrounding him, you looking down on him while he’s living every man’s dream

•loves holding hands while in a missionary, it just makes the atmosphere that much more intimate and romantic, always intertwines your fingers and he finds that so…comforting

•now, he doesn’t enjoy inflicting pain on you (he enjoys leaving a good spank and a little bit of choking), that much is clear, but he still likes seeing you with tears down your cheeks from the immense pleasure he’s bringing you

•is the king of body worshipping. on the nights where he’s feeling extremely loving, first, he takes off your clothes slowly, then he kisses you for a few moments, and then he starts leaving kisses everywhere-from your lips, across your jaw, on your neck, going down to your chest, a few ticklish kisses on your stomach, leaving a few teasing kisses on your clit, looking up while kissing your thighs, on the scars on your knee, all the way down to your ankle. and then the same route upwards, all while whispering soft words of praise to you

•if you ever thought that this man is anything other than an ass man, you are delusional. from spanking you, fucking you from behind, to literally kissing your cheeks better after a few particularly hard spanks and leaving hickeys on it, rubbing it gently in comforting way with a comforting hand, there isn’t a way this man hasn’t interacted with your behind lol

•loves to pull on your hair lightly during the slow make out sessions, but also enjoys it when you pull on his hair while he’s laying between your legs, eating you out as if you were his last meal

•loves how he can just pick you up and fuck you against any surface available, it gets him so turned on knowing that he can carry you so easily and manhandle you into any position he wants you in

•low-key has a breeding kink, he loves watching his cum leak out of you, and stuffing it back in, knowing that he could impregnate you any time he comes inside, it’s always so thrilling to him (plus he really want to start a family with you)

•he’s the aftercare KING, sometimes he spends more time talking you down from the height, cuddling you, cleaning you, kissing you and letting you know how much he loves you than he spend on the sex itself, he’s a natural caretaker so he enjoys taking care of your body and your mind after your sexy escapades

in conclusion: SCOUPS PLEASE I CAN TREAT YOU SO WELL JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE PLS BABY

[notreallythatlost]

I BLEED THE SAME

➴ annatar/sauron x female!elf!reader

PART ONE

summary: after halbrand returns to eregion, he takes on a new form. and you feel drawn to it as much as to the darkness inside of him.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, angst, unprotected sex, p in v, slight biting, fluff means sauron is in love (can that even be possible??)

word count: 2k

author’s note: this is part 2 of ‘if you bled’. please read it first, before you continue. maybe this one is little bit of a mess but god, love me a soft sauron. 😫 i hope you enjoy it and don’t forget how i much i appreciate your likes and reblogs — it means so much to me. xx

inspired by: this song

THE RINGS OF POWER MASTERLIST

After Halbrand disappeared, he did not return but you often wished, he would.

Sometimes you even believed, that you could see him come around a corner out of a sudden, until you realized it is just one of the other elves.

A few days later, Galadriel and Elrond left to return back to Lindon with the rings. They tried to convince you to come with them, but you knew you didn't belong there anymore. So you stayed in Eregion while you waited for Halbrand to return, just like he promised you.

The weeks went by and with each passing day you lost more hope of seeing him again. And with your hope, his promises also began to vanish.

Until, one day, Mirdania rushes into the great forge and joins Celebrimbor's side. Even though their voices are lowered, you try to understand some of what she is saying to the Lord of Eregion. Then, when she mentions a messenger from the Southlands, the hammer you hold falls from your hands in shock as you take a sharp breath.

This can’t be possible.

All eyes are suddenly on you, but you don’t care, just like you don’t care about the hammer that is still lying on the ground. You grab the skirt of your dress and run, ignoring Celebrimbor's call. Your path leads you out of the forge, into the yard and to the gate.

And there you see him standing. The man you had been waiting for all this time. The man who had finally kept his promise and returned to you.

He has his back to you and you let your gaze slide over it. There is a wound on his right shoulder and your heart instantly clenches in your chest. Wherever he had been, he had been in pain, you can feel it.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Halbrand turns around and your eyes meet. For a moment, time stands still and you see the hint of a smile on his face.

You return it as best you can, but you sense that something is wrong. Not a second later, Mirdania walks past you towards Halbrand. “My lord, I must ask you to leave,” she says and glances over her shoulder at you shortly.

Halbrand turns his gaze to the elf and puts on a charming smile. “Why do you want me to leave? I've only just arrived”, he answers and smiles at Mirdania, making the butterflies in your stomach swirl around and you lower your gaze.

“I'm not asking you to leave, the Lord of Eregion is. He has no interest in negotiating with you,” the elf replies before turning away and walking towards you. Her gaze is on you, then she grabs your wrist and pulls you with her.

“Wait, I-” you begin, but Mirdania interrupts you. “Lord Celebrimbor says we can't trust him. None of us should get involved with him. Not even you.” Although her voice is tense, you can't help but let out a laugh. “You can't be serious. I know who I can get involved with and with whom not,” you try to defend yourself, but she just pulls you further away from him.

“Lady Galadriel says otherwise,” she replies and you freeze. “What does Galadriel have to do with this?” you ask with a slightly raised voice. For a moment Mirdania just looks at you, then she leads you back into the forge and out of Halbrand's reach.

You have no way of returning to Halbrand for the rest of the day. But you know that he is waiting. Even if not just for you. When it starts to rain in the evening and Halbrand is still standing in the yard, waiting, Lord Celebrimbor finally decides to go to him himself.

Some time pass and as he returns with Halbrand close behind him, the forge is completely empty — except you. Both of them are soaked and you are about to ask if you can bring them anything, but Celebrimbor silences you with a wave of his hand. “You have done enough. You can go,” he says, leaving you no chance to protest.

Your gaze falls on Halbrand, who is looking at you with a gentle expression in his eyes. He gives you a slight, barely noticeable nod and you turn away to go to your chamber.

You lie on your bed for a while and stare at the ceiling, your thoughts swirling wildly. There is so much you wanted to know, so many questions and only one person who knows the answers. And you hope that you would get it soon.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because a gentle touch on your face wakes you. It takes a moment until you can think clearly again and you recognize a person sitting on the edge of your bed. You immediately sit up and slide away from the figure.

“Don't be afraid,” his words sound through the darkness and you start to relax. “Halbrand?” you whisper and he nods slowly. “But now, call me Annatar“, his voice is low as he answers making you swallow hard.

Annatar raises his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is so familiar that you can't resist any longer and lean into it while you close your eyes slightly.

Suddenly the fire in the fireplace lights up and fills the room with a warm light.

After a few seconds, your gaze finds his and you can't help but examine his new form. He examines you just as intensely, as if he's waiting for a reaction.

But everything you could do is raising your hand and taking one of the blonde strands of his new hair between your fingers. You must have been silent for a little too long, because he puts his fingers around your wrist and looks you intently in the eyes. “You don't seem particularly impressed,” he says with a raised eyebrow, but you shake your head.

“No, it's not that. It's just... it’s new,” you admit, making him smile. “And I thought you were asking me to take on Halbrand's face again,” he rests his other hand on your thigh and you lean a little closer to him.

“Well, even though I think a beard suits you so much better, this face is just as fine,” you say with a smile and look him in his now deep blue eyes. But then you remember that he had been in hurt and in pain not so long ago and let your gaze fall down.

Annatar, who seems to have sensed the sudden change in your expression, frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Tell me, what happened to you? Why did it take you so long to come back?” you ask, but Annatar just smiles. “Is this your way of telling me that you’ve missed me?” he asks with a hint of amusement and you snort quietly, but can’t help but smile.

Your fingertips glide gently over his cheek, and instead of the stubble you can feel his soft skin there. Even though he looks completely different now, you can feel that it is him.

“You are Sauron,” you suddenly say out loud for the first time before looking him in the eyes again. He returns your gaze, then nods. “But that doesn't seem to bother you,” he says carefully.

“No... even though it should. I should hate you for everything you've done. But I can't. I could never,” you whisper and feel him caressing your thigh with his thumb.

“She tried to convince you not to trust me,” Annatar says suddenly, thoughtful, and now you frown. “Galadriel...,” he adds, sensing your confusion.

You nod and let out a strained laugh. “Of course she did… what do you think? You deceived her. Like all of us. But she still doesn't have the right to decide who I give my heart to,” you say quietly and gasp softly as Annatar's fingers press tightly into the skin of your thigh.

“You should be careful who you give it to. Hearts are incredibly precious,” he whispers, leaning closer to you. You feel his breath brush over your lips and open them slightly, then his mouth is on yours.

Hot and demanding, as if he had been waiting for centuries to kiss you.

You can't help but moan, a mixture of desperation and longing as you bury your hands in his hair. Oh, how you already love these long strands.

His hands find their way to your hips, where he grabs you and pulls you closer to his body. A growl escapes from his lips, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

Breathing heavily, he pulls away from you again and presses his forehead against yours. “If we don't stop right now, I don't know how much longer I can hold back,” he says in a rough voice and you tremble. Your hands are still in his hair and you press yourself a little closer against him. “What if I don't want you to hold back?” you breathe against his lips.

And with that you unleash a storm.

Suddenly he is on top of you and presses your back into the mattress. His hands are all over your body, touching, pulling and caressing while you gasp for air.

Seconds later he starts to undress you, his hands touching every little part of your body before you get him out of his garments. They land on the floor just like your dress and he pulls you closer again.

All you can feel is Annatar's skin against yours, his fingertips wandering over your shoulders and his hard cock between your bodies as you straddle his lap.

He touches you as if you could crumble to dust before his eyes at any moment, and no matter how deeply you would like to feel him inside you right now, you can’t help but enjoy the feeling of his closeness and the desire that takes your breath away.

Finally, his hands move under your thighs and you look into his eyes as you position yourself above him. Your gazes are locked as you sink down onto him, but you had to close your eyes. It takes your breath away and you need a moment to get used to his size. Then you start to move and you moan with pleasure. Nothing has ever felt so good.

You press your forehead against his, as you pant heavily with one of your hands buried in his hair, the other in the bedsheets clawing onto them.

“Let me make you my queen,” he blurts out as you continue to move. You both have to groan before you realize what he just said. “What?” you gasp and pause. He takes advantage of this moment, puts his arm around your waist and turns you so that you are lying under him again.

He's still deep inside you and he moves his hips briefly to make it clear to you. “Become my queen,” he repeats and lowers his head to your breasts. He gently sucks on your nipple, moving slowly as if he's savoring every second of it.

“But I-” you stop and pant as he bites the skin beneath your breasts and look down at him. “Become my wife and I will lay all of Middle Earth at your feet. I will destroy anyone who does not submit to you — to us,” he continues and if you weren't so high on your feelings right now, you would have thought that this must be a joke.

You're just about to say something again when he suddenly speeds up his pace again. He thrusts deep into you, making your eyes roll back in your head. Your breathing gets heavier and your moans get louder until you hear his voice in your ear.

“Let go for me, my queen” Annatar ducks his fingers in your skin as your climax roll over you. You cry into his mouth, burying your fingers in his hair as if he was the only thing you could hold on to.

His breath is still on your ear as he moans softly, finding his own release and you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. Panting heavily, he places a soft kiss on your neck and breathes in your scent. Then he falls onto the sheets next to you and pulls you in his arms.

Lost in your thoughts, you draw small circles on his bare chest until he takes your hand in his, catching your attention. “I meant it. Become my wife and we will heal Middle Earth together,” he whispers and raises his other hand closed in front of your face before opening it.

In his palm lies one of the three elven rings.

For a moment you are too stunned to speak, until you find your voice again.

“Where… did you get it? Galadriel took them all with her,” you whisper and take the ring carefully in between your thumb and index finger.

“Does it matter?” he asks, stroking the back of your free hand with his thumb. “Is that a yes?” he asks, looking down at you expectantly.

You don't know what to say. But you know what your heart is telling you. And even though it was a betrayal of those you love and your entire kind, you know it's the right thing to do.

Because the darkness had called for you for your whole life.

“Yes...” you breathe and raise your gaze to meet his eyes again. There's a smile on Sauron's face as he takes the ring from your hand and gently slides it onto your finger.

“Then take this ring as my promise. I will give you the world and bring every being to its knees so that they will worship my queen.” With that, he leans forward and kisses the silver ring on your finger. And while you watch him, you know that one thing is certain.

This is all you've ever wanted.

And he is all you ever desired.

2024 notreallythatlost

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hey Jude

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: based off of 12x11, but you lose your memory instead of Dean.

You cried out in pain and surprise as the witch blew a strange dark powder into your face and you staggered back into the wall.

“Hey!” Dean turned suddenly when he heard your distress, and he lifted his gun and fired off three rounds of witch-killing bullets into the woman that hurt his little sister.

“You ok?” Sam asked, helping you straighten up and glancing down at the witch to make sure she was dead.

“Fine.” You shook yourself and did a once over—no extra limbs, no pain, nothing. “I’m fine. The witch is dead, so whatever she threw at me won’t work.”

“We should get going,” Dean said. “If you’re sure you’re ok.”

“I’m sure.”

…

“This place isn’t half bad,” you spoke up as the Impala pulled into a motel. Your brows drew together in confusion as Dean pulled up in front of a room. “Don’t we need to check in?”

“We’ve…been here for two days,” Sam said, turning in his seat and frowning at you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh…nothing,” you mumbled shyly, suddenly both confused and embarrassed. Why didn’t you remember? “Never mind.”

“I’m gonna give Rowena a call,” Sam said as the three of you entered your motel room. “She said there was a whole coven here, but we’ve only taken out two witches—maybe she can help us track down the rest.”

“Who?” You asked, trying to wrap your brain around the name, familiar yet somehow foreign—was it another hunter?

“Rowena…” Dean said, seemingly baffled by your question. “Red head witch? Irish, or Scottish, or whatever?” Dean goggled at you, but you just stared back blankly. “Seriously, are you joking?”

“No…” you were confused. Clearly your brothers couldn’t know this “Rowena” too well, otherwise you would remember her. So why did Dean care so much if you did? “Am I supposed to know her?”

“We saw her just last week,” Sam said, watching you carefully. “You know, Crowley’s mother?”

“Crowley?” This name felt more familiar to you, but still you couldn’t quite grasp it. “Crowley…” you mumbled again, as if repeating it would somehow bring a face to mind.

“Now I know you’re kidding,” Dean scoffed, although he didn’t look convinced.

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking from Sam to Dean and back again.

“You know Crowley,” Sam said. “You know Rowena, too. Why can’t—“ Sam’s eyes widened suddenly in horror. “That…that stuff the witch threw at you.”

“You mean Rowena?” You remembered that Sam—or was it Dean?—has just said that Rowena was a witch.

“What? No,” Dean said to you before turning to Sam. “What about it? You think maybe it messed with her memory? Made her forget about witches, or something?”

“That doesn’t explain why she forgot Crowley,” Sam countered. “Maybe it’s made her forget the supernatural world.”

“Supernatural,” you spoke up, desperate to prove that you hadn’t forgotten. “Like ghosts. We hunt ghosts. I haven’t forgotten, see?”

Dean’s brows crinkled in confusion.

“Then I don’t understand…”

“Let’s call Rowena,” Sam suggested. “She’ll know what this is.”

…

“Oh dear,” Rowena’s sigh of disappointment got the attention of the Winchester brothers; however, you were distracted playing with Dean’s gun on his bed.

“What is it?” Dean demanded.

“It’s definitely a memory spell.” Rowena sighed again. “This spell…it will make her memory fade piece by piece, until she can’t remember anything.”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“Anything. Not you, not even herself. Soon enough she’ll forget how to eat, how to…how to breathe. And then…” Rowena let her voice trail off, her point having been made.

“Ok, then fix it,” Dean insisted.

“It’s not that simple. I need the grimoire—the spell book used to make that powder—if I’m going to be able to undo it.”

“And how are we supposed to find that?” Dean growled.

“It’ll be with the rest of the coven,” Rowena said confidently. “You said you only got two witches, right? A coven must be at least three. Any remaining will have the grimoire.”

“Is this thing loaded?” Dean whirled around to see you pointing his gun straight up at your own eye.

“Hey, hey!” He yelled, rushing to you and yanking the gun from your hands. “That is not a toy!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze going from Dean to Rowena. “You’re our witch friend, right?”

“I…suppose,” Rowena said slowly.

“Cool!” You exclaimed, jumping off Dean’s bed and going straight for Rowena’s bag. “Is this your witch bag? Do you have cool stuff in here?”

“Hey now!” Rowena grabbed your arms and pulled them out of her bag. “Stay out of that, you’ll set off a curse or something!” Rowena took one look at your pouting face and sighed, reaching into her bag. “Here,” she said, coming out with a voodoo doll. “Play with this.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt someone?” Dean spoke up.

“She’s fine,” Rowena insisted, waving her hand dismissively as you returned to Dean’s bed, examining the doll with a grin. “Now, we need to find that coven.”

…

“We can’t just leave her here alone,” Sam hissed as Dean packed his bag for the hunt.

“Well we’re not going to take her with us,” Dean countered.

“Are you going somewhere?” You spoke up suddenly.

“We’ve gotta take out that witch,” Dean said.

“What witch?” You asked. The brothers ignored you.

“Look, she’ll be fine for just a few hours,” Dean told Sam. “And when we’re back, Rowena can break the curse.”

“Whose curse?” You asked. “Are you cursed?”

“Alright. Let’s go.” Sam sighed.

He and Dean headed for the door, but both stopped when you grabbed onto Sam’s arm.

“We’ll be back soon,” he promised.

“Don’t,” you pleaded. “Please don’t. I’m—I’m forgetting everything…and I don’t want to forget you. If you go, I’ll forget.”

“Hey, that’s not gonna happen,” Dean spoke up. “We’re gonna break this curse, and you’ll be ok.”

You still looked scared and unconvinced, so Dean continued.

“I want you to do something for me. Just keep repeating the most important things to yourself—it’ll help.”

“Ok…” you said slowly, then froze as you wondered where to start.

“Start small,” Dean instructed.

“My…my name is Y/N.” You glanced at Dean, then Sam. “Sam and Dean are my brothers. Rowena…is our witch friend. Castiel is our angel friend. My dad is John Winchester.”

“You’re doing great,” Sam insisted. “If you keep doing that, you won’t forget us.”

You didn’t think that that was how the curse worked, but you couldn’t honestly remember. You would have to take De—no, Sam’s—word for it.

“Are you sure?” Your voice faded to a whisper as Sam and Dean walked out the door before you had even started the question. You took a deep breathe, steeling yourself. “Ok. My name…my name is Y/N Winchester…”

…

“Well that was a bust,” Dean groaned as he pulled the Impala back into the motel. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just head to the next possible location?”

“I want to check on her,” Sam insisted. “I don’t want her to be scared.”

Dean didn’t respond, he just parked the Impala and led the way into the room. The boys hadn’t taken two steps into the room before Sam caught sight of you ducking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

“Y/N?” Dean called out. “Sweetheart, are you ok?”

Silence greeted his question.

“Y/N?” Sam knocked on the door. “Please answer me.”

“Go away!” Your voice was tight and squeaky, even through the door.

“Kiddo it’s us,” Sam assured you.

“How-how do you know my name?” There was more confusion in your voice than fear now.

“Y/N—“ Dean’s voice stuck, and he cleared his throat. “It’s us, it’s your brothers. You know us, remember?”

The lock clicked on the bathroom door, and Dean could see half of your face as you peered up at him. After a moment, you swung the door open all the way, but you remained in the doorway hesitantly.

“I know you,” you mumbled. Dean held his breath as you stared first at him, then Sam. “My…brothers…” you were rubbing your arm now, anxiously glancing at your brothers as you wracked your brain for more information. “You’re…you’re S-S…D…” you were breathing hard now, terrified that you couldn’t remember their names. “I-I know it, I know who you are, I know it!”

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Sam soothed. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“No, no, I know it,” you insisted. “I know this, I-I have to know this.”

“It’s…it’s ok if you don’t remember,” Dean spoke up. “We’re here, we can help you.”

“No, it’s not ok!” Your outburst startled the boys, but they didn’t show it. “It’s not ok, I have to know this! You-you’re my big brothers, and I have to remember you!”

“Commere.” Sam couldn’t stand to see you start to cry, so he pulled you into his arms. “It’s gonna be ok…we’re going to fix this, we are.”

“I-I have to…I remember, I have to…” you were babbling almost incoherently. Sam looked at Dean over your shoulder, and they shared a moment of painful panic before Dean spoke.

“I’m gonna get us some food.” And he rushed out the door.

Sam stayed with you for several minutes before you slowly disentangled yourself from him.

“I can’t remember,” you whimpered.

“I…I know.” Sam sighed. He was about to speak again when he spotted the Impala out of the corner of his eye through the window—Dean was sitting inside, not moving; he hadn’t left. “Um…I’m gonna go talk to him.” Sam started for the door, but you stopped him.

“Let me,” you said. “I…I want to.”

So Sam stood back as you went to comfort your brother whose name you couldn’t remember.

…

He just needed a minute. He would go out, get food, come back, and be ready to help you again but he just needed a minute.

He turned on the radio, cursing himself for it a moment later when Hey Jude started playing. He reached up to turn it off—it was just too painful to hear this, your favorite song—but he stopped when your favorite part started playing.

“And any time you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulder.”

The words brought back a thousand memories, a thousand little moments between you and Dean that he knew he would remember forever. A few precious moments stood out above the rest—

…

“Hey little sister.” The first words Dean ever said to you. You were just a toddler, crying in the doorway of a filthy motel room while you watched your mother—some random hookup of John’s who’d gotten sick of taking care of a kid—drive away. She’d stayed long enough to hear that Dean was John’s son, then she���d snapped, “This is for him,” and shoved her daughter forward before rushing to her car.

You were utterly inconsolable, sobbing until your face was bright red and you could barely breathe. If Dean didn’t calm you down quickly, you might pass out, crying yourself into exhaustion.

“Hey Jude…” Dean had barely even made the decision to start singing before Hey Jude came to his head—the song his mother used to calm him down. “Don’t make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better…”

…

Dean would’ve done anything—anything—to undo the last ten minutes. He wanted to go back and change it all, to tell you a different story, to say “monsters aren’t real, they’re just stories, and of course dad doesn’t fight monsters, of course he’s not in danger, of course he’ll come home.”

But he couldn’t.

You were scared now. Maybe you always would be, in some capacity. You would always carry that little voice inside that said—“there are monsters out there, and they want you dead.”

Dean hadn’t wanted to tell you. Why did you have to be so curious? Why did you have so many questions, questions that you demanded answers for?

You were crying now; sitting by the motel window, waiting for dad to show up, and you were crying. Dean had done this—he’d made you so scared that you cried by the window, hoping that dad was coming home.

You flinched when the wind banged a tree against the window, and Dean decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He sat beside you, and you latched onto his arm instantly, leaning on him for support. Dean did the only thing he could think of—

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid…”

…

Dean’s memories retreated to the back of his mind when the Impala door opened and you climbed in. He stopped his gentle singing—he hadn’t even realized he was doing it���when you turned to look at him. He looked from your eyes to the radio, almost as if he were begging you to remember—not just the song, but everything it meant to both of you. You just blinked up at him with that blank expression that had been haunting Dean since you started to forget.

“I don’t want you to be sad,” you whispered. Dean smiled painfully.

“You don’t even know my name.”

“But I know that I care about you.”

Dean’s breath hitched.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, little sister. I’m gonna fix you, I promise.”

“But what if you can’t? I still don’t want you to be sad.”

Dean was struggling to hold onto his resolve—to his strength.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

The both of you lapsed into silence, the closing notes of Hey Jude still playing.

“I like this song,” you said quietly. “It sounds nice.”

Dean clenched his jaw tightly to keep his lips from quivering.

“Kid, please go back to Sammy.”

“Sammy,” you mumbled to yourself, as if trying to put a face to the name. Dean’s fists clenched as he blinked rapidly.

“That room-“ he pointed- “go knock. Sam is in there, he’ll take care of you while I get us some food.”

You stared at Dean for a long moment; he knew that you were worried about him, but the blank expression on your face hurt more than he could take.

“Sweetheart, go. I need you to…please. Please go.”

You left without another word.

…

“I found it.” Rowena’s outburst came just after you swallowed the last of your fries—Sam and Dean had barely picked at their food, but you had forgotten so much that you were no longer sure what they were worried about, so you felt fine.

“Found what?” Dean demanded.

“The coven. I’m sure of it. It’s the perfect place for a witch to hide. You take the last remaining in the coven out and get me their grimoire, and that curse will be gone before we know it.”

“What about her?” Sam’s eyes darted to you before looking back at Dean. “I don’t think she should be alone, she’s forgetting more and more.”

You glanced behind you to make sure he had looked at you, and not someone else. Dean noticed this and sighed.

“We don’t have much choice.” Dean stepped over to the tv and switched it on. “Commere Y/N.” He had to stare at you for several seconds before you realized that that was your name.

You jumped up off the chair and went to sit on Dean’s bed so you could get a good view of the tv.

“Ok, sit here and watch this,” Dean instructed, gesturing to the cartoon playing. “Don’t move, don’t leave, ok?”

“Why can’t I go?” You wondered.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” Dean asked. You pondered this.

“Witches…covens…your lumberjack outfits…a Halloween party?” You guessed.

Dean glanced down at his red flannel, seemingly offended, before he waved it off in annoyance.

“Yeah, you’re definitely staying here.”

“Well can I play with this then?” All three turned to see you with a—quite possibly cursed—dagger that you had somehow gotten from Rowena’s bag, along with a—definitely cursed—witches’ spell book.

“Hey now!” Rowena cried out, snatching both items from you. “How many times do I have to tell you, my things are not toys!”

You ignored this loud outburst and instead stared at Rowena as if you had never seen her.

“I like your dress,” you said suddenly. “It’s so…it’s like a queen’s dress.”

“Why…thank you,” she said with a sudden smile. “I think I like you better this way.”

“Rowena.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes yes alright,” she huffed. “Let’s go.”

…

The witches were surprisingly easy to kill, but when Rowena went to use their grimoire, Sam stopped her.

“How long will this spell take?” He asked.

“Maybe an hour.”

“I want to do it back at the hotel,” Sam insisted.

“It’s faster to—“ Dean began, but Sam interrupted.

“She’s gotta be terrified right now, with how much she’s forgetting so quickly. I want to be there for her, I want her to know that we’re fixing this.”

“It’s not far,” Rowena said, taking Sam’s side. “Let’s go.”

…

You were much harder to coax out of the bathroom this time, and even when you were sitting on Dean’s bed with a brother on either side of you while Rowena worked on the spell, you looked unconvinced.

Sam was trying to calm your nerves by showing you pictures and telling you names and facts.

“And this, this is Bobby—“ he’d shown you Bobby’s picture at least three times, but your short term memory kept getting worse, so you didn’t notice.

“Um…” Sam stopped talking when you started, but you didn’t get far before your face screwed up, and Sam knew you were trying to remember his name.

“Sam,” he supplied, hating to see you in distress.

“Sam,” you said with a breath of relief. “I just…I for-I forgot, what’s…what’s my name?”

Sam barely heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath over his own shattering heart.

“It’s…you’re—“

“Y/N.”

Sam was confused when you answered your own question, until he looked from you to Rowena, who wore a triumphant smile.

“Did you—does she—“

“Sam.” The wide grin on your face was unmistakable, as was the spark in your eye. “Dean.”

“Oh kid,” Dean breathed, wrapping you in his arms a split second before Sam could. Sam didn’t care though—he grabbed both his siblings in a group hug that had Rowena rolling her eyes, although the smile never left her face.

“You’re back.” Sam grinned.

“Did you ever doubt it?” You questioned with a laugh.

“I admit, a few moments gave me pause,” Sam chuckled.

“Didn’t doubt it for a second,” Dean insisted. “I knew you’d come back to us.”

“Well I’m sure that that would’ve comforted me—if I coulda remembered your name.”

You knew Dean was gonna throw that pillow at you before he’d even grabbed it—you didn’t need your memories to tell you that.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley

[saetoru]

[ TO LOVE ] SCARAMOUCHE.

to love is to betray—at least that’s how scaramouche has always seen it.

and then he meets you.

“this is my bath,” you tease him lightly, and even despite the shooing motion of your hand, even despite the soft glare sent your way, you still make room for him to settle between your legs.

“well, it’s also mine now too,” he huffs.

he leans his back against your chest, let’s his body melt in against yours, let’s the soft trace of your hands fill the empty cracks with something he’s lacked for long time.

scaramouche is almost certain you realize he’s in love with you before he comes close to knowing himself. and it’s funny—even though you fall first, he falls harder.

maybe it’s just the world being cruel once again, just as it always has been with him. it’s cruel, downright evil, really, that something about you makes him forget so easily who he is, who he’s supposed to be. love has always written itself as betrayal—but you make it seem so promising, luring out the softest parts of him, the naive ones that hope and hope…just to crumble in the end, like always.

but then you wash his hair, lathering shampoo into your hands and working through his hair softly, slowly, delicately like he’s fragile.

“admit it. you just like it when i wash your hair, huh?” and you’re still teasing, still using that slightly amused tone when you speak to him. he should be insulted, he thinks, but there’s a smile on his face.

for a moment, he notes that he’s lucky his back is facing you and the smile stretched across his lips is hidden—otherwise you’d have the satisfaction of knowing you’re right. because he does love when you wash his hair, he loves the closeness and the safety and the feeling of being wanted. of being cherished. of being something to someone without having to earn it first.

but he can’t bring himself to admit it, so instead, he scoffs, leaning more weight onto you as he quirks a brow.

“well, why wash it myself if you’re around?”

it’s his way of giving himself the upper hand—his way of convincing himself that love is not the reason why he so desperately chases the tenderness of your fingers against his scalp. no, instead, he convinces himself that mortals such as you were made to serve him like this. to treat him like he’s holy and divine, like he’s the god you’re meant to worship as you kiss his shoulder with a giggle.

“that’s true,” you hum, “why would you do it when i can take care of you?”

but you’re different—and it scares him a little. you don’t worship him like he’s a deity, like he’s all mighty and the answer to your prayers. instead, you simply love him, like it’s a choice, like it’s something you want.

you cover his eyes as you rinse out the suds. love. you cup his cheek and admire him. love. you lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his nose, teasingly grazing over his lips before pulling away. love.

everything about you is completely in love—but to love is to betray, and he knows the inevitable will be soon to come.

so he denies the urge to pull you back in, ignores the almost painful need to feel your lips press against his, turns away every part of him that screams to let i love you spill from his lips.

because every time he loves, every time he so graciously gives every piece of himself—like the heart he doesn’t have, even offering the parts that don’t exist and giving them up anyway—love always tastes like a bitter sip of betrayal.

i love you, he wants to say. but he knows as soon as the words slip, so will you from his fingers. just like the last time—just like the first.

“you don’t need to take care of me,” he grunts, “i’m fine on my own.”

“on your own,” you hum in thought, as if you’re carefully taking in his words. “isn’t that lonely?” you ask softly. by now, your hand has resigned to rubbing slow circles into his chest, pulling him in closer, almost as if proving a point.

i’m right here. you’re not alone.

“no,” he says stubbornly, “i’m above needing—”

“cause sometimes i’m lonely,” you admit, cutting him off. there’s no shame in your voice, not even a trace of hurt or sadness or even hatred. instead, you smile, pressing another kiss to his shoulder, and then the crook of his neck as you murmur, “but i guess not so much when i’m with you.”

“me?”

“yeah,” you nod, resting your chin on his shoulder, cheek pressed against his, “you. cause i love you, you know?”

and once again, scaramouche realizes he’s in love. he’s been so painfully in love for so long—and he thinks you’ve known it for even longer.

and to love is to betray, he thinks—but you’re still here, still holding him tight in your arms as you smile into his skin. so he finds a little hope, a little relief, as he closes his eyes and listens to your heartbeat against his back.

after a moment, with a tight grip on your thigh and wobbly lips, he quietly whispers, “i think i love you too.”

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[thatbloodymuggle]

MASTERMIND (iii)

THREE - COLOR THEORY

SUMMARY: A child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox in his own den.

PAIRING: eris vanserra x reader

WORD COUNT: 11.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: language, descriptions of violence, smut, oral (m receiving), thigh humping, fingering

You have always wondered if being born from Light and Dark was a blessing, or a curse. On one hand, it has granted you the ability to navigate life’s morally gray areas; to question everything and listen to opposing thoughts and ideologies. But on the other hand, your existence was born from a violent affair—and you can’t help but wonder if that Dark inevitably lives within you, shielded by the Light. 

Right now, more than ever, you believe the latter may be true. 

It’s been three days. Three days since you woke up to an empty bed beneath you and guilt weighing heavy atop. Three days since you self-sabotaged your entire mission. Three days since you reveled in the comfort of your enemy’s arms.

You thought the regret would be at its worst the morning after; you figured it would pass with time. But with each day, each hour, each minute that ticks by, breathing becomes just a little bit harder. You can’t even find peace in sleep; not when you are kept awake by images of Eris’s lust-filled gaze and the inevitable heartbreak on Mor’s face. If your own self-stirred panic isn’t enough, you also have the note that Eris left atop his empty pillow to worry about:

I apologize for leaving so soon, Little Bird, but I have some business to attend to. Do write back when you’d like to take a tour of the library. Don’t miss me too much.

The bastard left the proverbial ball in your court. Typically, you like being in control. But with your current frenzied mental state, the last thing you need is yet another convoluted layer to worry about.

Needless to say, you are about one misstep from exploding.

The crackling embers of the fireplace in your cabin stare back at you tauntingly. You hover your hands over the orange flames, letting the heat tickle your skin until the burning becomes too much, and you are forced to pull away. You wait a beat, before raising your shaky hands over the fire once again. Albeit brief, the pain seems to be the only escape from the assault of your traitorous thoughts. Yet, with each retreat of your hands, the empty paper and pen sitting on your bedside table glare at you expectantly. They seem to radiate a cruel impatience—as if Eris is slinking in the shadows, watching you.

Your hands begin to burn again, and you abruptly pull them away. Before you can raise them over the flames once again, you feel the scraping of talons against the cobblestone barrier of your mind.

You want nothing less than to talk to Rhys right now. But you know that if you leave him hanging, he will worry. Reluctantly, you let your walls crumble down, and a shiver runs up your spine as you feel his aura creep in.

Everything okay? His voice sings across your mental connection.

You gnaw on your bottom lip until you wince, swiping your tongue across the droplet of blood.

I don’t know, you relent.

He doesn’t respond immediately. But you can picture the cinch between his brows as he mulls over your answer. Be honest with me. I won’t share with the others, if you don’t want me to. Promise.

Your fingers dance over the flames once more. You can’t possibly divulge what has transpired thus far. But you certainly can’t hold it all in without going mad. The fire burns your skin, and you jolt back before responding.

Promise?

He replies instantly, Yes.

You start talking before you can convince yourself otherwise. I think I may be getting a little too close.

Your response is simple, straight to the point. But something about it feels…heavy. 

What do you mean ‘too close’?

You’re careful not to let your thoughts, your memories of what happened in that cottage, to breach your mental connection with Rhys. You stare into the orange flames, admiring how intertwine, before replying.

The ‘seduction from afar’ plan may need to be revised. I’m in too deep to keep my distance for three weeks.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you wait for his response. You subconsciously twirl the silver ring on your thumb, never peeling your eyes away from the blazing fire. Rhys doesn’t say anything for a while. Just as fear begins to creep in, his voice sounds through your mind.

That’s fine. You jolt at his response, and he continues. Between you and me, I don’t care what you have to do. Make him fall in love with you, break his heart, it doesn’t matter. Once you’re out of there, you’ll never have to see him again.

You physically flinch as the reality of your situation hits you like a truck. Three weeks, and you’ll never see him again. Three weeks, and it’ll all be done—there will be no witness to whatever fling you have, no one left to tell the tale. No one ever has to know. Mor never has to know.

Okay, you finally respond simply.

Just tread carefully, you can hear the strain in his voice.

You nod robotically, even though he can’t see you. With a quick farewell, you put up your mental barriers. You stare into the flames for a few minutes longer, until the mere sight burns your irises.

“Compartmentalization,” you mumble to no one in particular.

Finally, you peel yourself off the dust-covered floor in front of the fire. Your legs are wobbly as you take methodical steps towards your bedside table. The empty paper and pen are quivering in anticipation as you approach. Your hand moves with a mind of its own as you pick up the waiting pen and scribble onto the paper.

Does the offer still stand?

The second you set the pen back down onto the table, the paper vanishes into thin air from your fingertips. You wring your hands together as you sit down on the side of your bed and wait. You’re not sure what you’re waiting for exactly, but you wait. 

“Compartmentalization,” you say it again. And you say it a few more times. Enough to trick your mind into believing it and slow the frantic beat of your heart. Enough to don a mask of apathy as a crack sounds outside the front door followed by a sharp knock. 

You twist the silver ring around your thumb once more before standing, this time on steady legs. Your steps are calm and calculated as you tread towards the door. You take one last deep breath, ridding your body and mind of any residual apprehension. With your lips curled into a beguiling grin, you swing the door open.

Eris’s smile is almost as wicked as yours as he scans you from head to toe, drinking in your appearance.

“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Little Bird,” he smirks.

You pick at your nails nonchalantly, “I’m flattered I’ve been on your mind, but I’m not sure I can say the same.”

His vicious grin only widens, “You wound me, Birdie. But I must admit,” he dips down and lowers his voice to a whisper, “I quite like your bite today.”

You arch a brow and don’t so much as flinch at his proximity, “Are you a masochist, Eris Vanserra? Or does chasing after disinterested females turn you on?”

Your thinly veiled insult only eggs him on. It takes everything in you not to shrink back as he lowers his lips so they graze the shell of your ear.

“Are you sure you want to go down this road? Because last I remembered, you were a whimpering little mess—”

His sentence is abruptly halted by your fingers pinching his lips shut. His eyes widen in incredulity at your childish action, and a giggle bubbles in your throat at the sight. You release him and walk briskly past, leaving him dumbfounded behind you.

“Well, are we going or not?” you snark over your shoulder.

He falls into step beside you, and you jolt as he places his hand on the small of your back. His touch gentle, but commanding. You don’t dare look at him as he warns, “I’ll let this one slide, Little Bird. But don’t forget that my teeth are much sharper than yours,” he wraps his arm tightly around your waist, “And I’m not afraid to use them.”

Your rebuttal is cut short as he pulls you to his chest before winnowing you both out of the woods.

The Forest House is just as remarkable as you remembered it—even more so in the sunlight. The tangles of ivy enveloping the red-brick walls are a vibrant green, and the intricate details of the gate itself seem to glisten underneath the sun’s rays. However, unlike your last visit, this time sentries line nearly every inch of the expansive walls. Their taut faces and intimidating steeds exude a sense of savagery that makes your skin prickle.

Eris’s hand retreats to its spot on the small of your back, and you jump slightly as you are reminded of your purpose for being here. Reluctantly, you peel your eyes away from the curvature of the golden gates and cock your head towards his. The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, and you can tell he’s holding back a comment from the twitch in his lips.

“Spit it out,” you feign annoyance.

He shakes his head with an airy laugh, “It’s nothing. I just like the way you look at the world—all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, like you’re experiencing life for the first time. It’s cute.”

You frown. 

His comment, while innocent, puts you on edge for two reasons. The first, and the one that really makes your skin crawl, is his incessant ability to unknowingly point out parts of yourself that belong to you, rather than Athena Ellesmere. With each destination he takes you to, you do feel like you’re experiencing the world for the first time. But that’s not Athena—and with each of your quirks he reveals, he’s one step closer to sniffing you out entirely.

The second, well…

“Cute?” you deadpan.

His teeth flash as his grin widens, “Cute.”

You’re not cute. You’re supposed to be sexy, confident, untouchable—a femme fatale. Not fucking cute.

You know your bubbling frustration is futile, so you simply narrow your eyes into a warning glare and march towards the golden gates. You know that the pout on your face isn’t helping your case—but you can’t seem to wipe it off. The sentries shift on their steeds as you approach but return to their stationed positions when Eris falls into step beside you. They don’t so much as look in your direction as you pass through the gates.

“Once you are formally welcomed inside the gates, you are free to come and go as you please,” Eris’s fingers brush yours as he speaks, “So if you are in further need of the library after today, you can return.”

Your ears perk up at this, but you nod coolly. He leads you around the side of the large mansion, away from the front door, and lowers his voice to a murmur, “But I would prefer if you’d let me accompany you, if you should visit again.”

“Why? Want me all to yourself?” you snort.

He wears a playful grin, but his eyes are vapid.

“You know I do,” he teases, “But the beauty of this place is deceptive. Darkness lurks behind these walls, Little Bird.”

A shiver crawls up your spine, but you swiftly retort, “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“I know,” his voice is thick with trepidation.

You bristle at the way he speaks about you like he knows you. Yet again.

His hand returns to the small of your back as he leads you towards a small door, almost completely covered by thick ropes of vine. If he wasn’t guiding you, you would’ve completely missed the hidden entrance. You suck in a breath in anticipation as he pushes it open, wood creaking against rusted hinges. You hide your curiosity as you take in the burgundy carpet lining a hallway so long, you can’t see its end. The walls are built of centuries-old limestone, the darkness illuminated by flame torches.

You peel your eyes away from the hallway as Eris leads you to the left, down a steep, spiral staircase. Just like the hallway, it is built entirely of dark stone which holds a red hue thanks to the flickering flames of torches lining the walls. He steps in front of you, and you follow his lead silently as he leads you down the stairs. The steep wind of the steps is dizzying as you descend downwards, deep into the ground below, and into the heart of the tunnels of the Forest House. With each floor you pass, you picture Azriel’s map of the house. Finally, Eris takes a turn at the ninth floor you’ve descended. You follow closely behind and note the change in architecture. Gone are the limestone walls, and in their place, deep mahogany wood lined with a variety of paintings: family portraits, Autumn Court landscapes, still life’s. This hallway is also dimly lit with torches, but it holds a peculiar warmth unlike the others.

“How big is this place?” you voice echoes down the expansive hallway.

You know exactly how big it is. But you can’t stand the eerie silence. 

Eris’s voice rumbles lowly, “Miles long. It would take you half the morning to walk from one end to the other.”

Your eyes widen in mock astonishment—as if you don’t know that it is exactly 4.2 miles long.

“And you don’t get lost?” you ask.

“You forget I’ve had centuries of practice, darling,” he chuckles.

You open your mouth to fire another question, but a squeal escapes instead as you feel something wet bump against your right hand. You snatch your hand to your chest and look down to find a pair of beady, vermillion eyes staring back at you. You instinctively inch closer to Eris as you stare down at the creature in awe.

You know what smokehounds are. And you know that Eris owns a whopping twelve. But you weren’t quite prepared for the predator standing before you. Its fur is gray and sleek like smoke, and its eyes are the color of blood. Your initial fear fades as you realize, despite their crimson hue, its eyes are not filled with malice—but rather, curiosity. You cautiously lower the hand clutched to your chest back to your side, and slowly stretch your fingers apart. Its wet nose bumps your hand again, and you shiver at the tickling sensation as it sniffs you. A giggle bubbles in your throat as it sticks its tongue out and licks between your fingers. You tentatively stroke the side of its face with your knuckles.

“She likes you,” Eris hums beside you.

The smokehound nuzzles into your side, and you stroke the top of her head with your full hand. You know they are vicious creatures—you’ve read about how they can race as fast as the wind to sniff out any prey. But the creature standing below you seems as harmless as a fly.

“What’s her name?” you ask as you scratch softly between her ears. 

“Sage. She’s my oldest,” his hand joins yours as he strokes the back of her neck.

“I never pictured smokehounds to be so…affectionate,” you wonder aloud, curiosity piqued as she licks your hand again.

Eris laughs softly, “They aren’t. She must be drawn to you—the same way I am.”

You can feel his gaze on you but refuse to look in his direction as you fight the blush crawling up your neck. He withdraws his hand, and you follow suit as you continue your walk down the hallway, this time with Sage by your side. She trots beside you, close enough that your fingertips brush the silken fur on her back and her side rubs against your dress. Even as you continue down the dimly lit hallway, you can’t take your eyes off the elegant creature walking alongside you.

You nearly slam into Eris as he halts abruptly in front of two large oak doors. Just as you regain your footing, you nearly lose it again at the sight before you.

There are seemingly endless rows of books reaching at least fifty feet tall. An ornate rug of red and gold covers the stone floor, and hundreds of flickering candles are suspended in midair. Vibrant green ivy, much like the kind you’ve seen outside, wraps around each shelf. To top it all off, the ceiling is a mosaic of crystalline windows shining golden rays of sunlight down below—some kind of enchantment, you presume, given that you are at nine floors underground.

“Wow,” you breathe. With your mouth agape and your eyes wide with wonder, you know that you are proving Eris’s earlier point. But right now, you couldn’t care less. 

You wander towards the shelves, Sage trailing behind you, and run your fingers gently along the spines of the books. The smell of parchment and wood is intoxicating, and your heart swells with joy as you scan the collection of classics. Some are so old; you presume they must be original prints. Others look brand new, completely untouched. 

One binding in particular catches you attention—well, ‘binding’ is generous, considering the book is barely hanging together by a thread. You carefully pull out the amethyst-colored cover and turn it over. Shattered Realms. 

“Is this an original copy?” you question, unable to peel your eyes away from the novel.

Eris looks over your shoulder, “Yes. It’s been passed down in my family for generations—although it originally belonged to the Night Court.”

Your lips twitch with amusement, but you force down a laugh at the irony. You glance at him over your shoulder, “How did it end up here?”

He takes a step closer to you, his chest inches away from pressing up against your back, and runs a finger over the binding of the book in your hands. His scent of sandalwood and nutmeg invades your senses.

“Many centuries ago, my grandfather was in a bit of a tiff with the Night Court High Lord at the time. He stole it during their feud.”

You smile softly and make a mental note to retrieve the book before you return to Velaris as a little souvenir for Rhys. You carefully place the book back in its spot before continuing your exploration. Eris follows closely behind, whereas Sage has found comfort in front of the fireplace. 

“Do you have any favorites?” you wonder aloud as you come to the end of the aisle.

“I have many,” his hand brushes yours.

You hook your pinky finger over his, “Care to share?”

“Any particular genre you’re interested in?” he curls his finger against yours.

You bite your bottom lip in thought as you mull over the options. Asking you to pick a favorite genre is like asking a mother to pick her favorite child. 

“I’ve recently been on a bit of a reading kick of philosophical essays,” you tap a finger to your chin in thought, “Mind-body dualism, introspection, all the good stuff,” you drawl.

Eris’s brows raise in surprise, “I never would’ve thought that philosophy pairs well with filthy little romance novels.”

Your eyes narrow into a glare, and you move to snatch your pinky away from his, but he swiftly intertwines your fingers. He’s dragging you down the aisle before you can protest, and you stumble to keep up with his swift feet. Eris leads you past rows of bookshelves, up a spiral staircase, and past even more rows of books. He doesn’t give you a chance to admire the collection of literature as he tugs you along. Finally, you halt at a small alcove decorated with stained glass windows.

Your eyes widen as you take in the collection of books written by countless ancient philosophers. But you force on a façade of indifference, careful not to fuel his already bursting ego even more. You hold your breath as he leans over you and pulls a book at least six inches out of your reach. The binding is tattered—not as badly as the original copy of Shattered Realms, but enough that you can tell it’s at least a few centuries old. He holds it out expectantly, and you tentatively grab it from his waiting hands. 

“I think you might find this to your liking,” he grins, “A collection of Tydeus’s correspondences with Lady Baldwin. It’s not an original copy, but surely the closest to it.”

He releases your other hand, and you clench your jaw to conceal your excitement. You’ve been searching for a copy of this for years now—ever since you stumbled across the collection of the ancient philosopher Tydeus’s works in the Velaris library. Your mother used to love reading the copy of his correspondences in the Day Court libraries, but that feels like a lifetime ago now.

“Tydeus’s ideologies are a bit archaic for my taste. But I suppose this will do,” you lie through your teeth. Eris chuckles lightly, observing the curious glint in your eyes and the way you hold the book with a delicate reverence.  

“There are wards around the house which prevent these books from leaving the premises, so unfortunately, I cannot loan it to you. And given your past thieving tendencies, I’m not sure I would want to,” he teases as he leans against the shelve of books.

Well, there goes Rhys’s solstice gift.

Your lips dip into a frown, “I know Vanserras are cruel, but I never imagined you’d be this twisted—dangling one-of-a-kind copies of ancient literature over my head only to pull them away.”

“Don’t fret, Little Bird,” he purrs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You can read to your heart’s desire—inside the house, of course. I’ll show you to a place with a bit more…privacy.”

You gulp as his fingers linger against your cheekbone. His touch is electrifying, and you fight the instinct to chase after it as he pulls away.

“Okay,” you whisper, “Is it alright if I pick out a few more?”

His teeth flash as he observes the effect he has over you.

“Take your time. I’ll be keeping Sage company.”

He brushes past you, and you remain frozen in place for a moment. Get it together, you scold yourself internally. You will your mind to empty as you continue your stroll down hundreds of rows of books. You try your very best not to pick up everything that catches your eye—only those which really pique your interest. But even so, you quickly find yourself with a stack of books so high they nearly reach your chin. Your arms tremble underneath the weight, but still, you add a couple of atlases to your stack for good measure. You have no intention of reading them—but Athena Ellesmere would. 

Finally satisfied with your collection, you walk slowly back towards the front of the library. You rest your chin on the top of the stack, careful not to topple the tower of books. The winding staircase proves to be a challenge, and you nearly stumble twice. But by some miracle, you make it down unscathed, and approach the blazing fireplace.

Eris lounges on a couch with Sage on the ground beneath him. He scratches her ears nonchalantly as he flips through his own book. His neck cranes at the sound of your uneven footsteps, and a roaring laugh fills the room when he lays eyes on you.

It’s a sight he wishes will be forever imprinted in his memory—your arms wobbling underneath a stack of books nearly as tall as you, and your flushed cheeks peeking out on top.

“Some help would be appreciated,” you hiss.

He sets his book down and glides over, taking half the stack from your arms. You nearly moan in relief at the literal weight lifted off your shoulders. 

“A few more, huh?” he taunts with a wily smirk.

“A few means a small number. Comparative to your collection, yes. A few,” you grit your teeth.

“Whatever you say, Little Bird. Although I except a thorough review of each,” he sings.

Eris balances his half of the stack in one arm and wraps his other around your waist, pulling you tight to his chest. You save your own stack from nearly tipping over with a stumble. You aren’t afforded a chance to protest as he winnows you both away, leaving Sage sleeping peacefully in front of the fire.   

This time, you aren’t able to save the stack from spilling out of your arms as you land in a new room. Much to your displeasure, Eris’s pile of books is fully intact in his arms. You drop to your knees with a huff and begin collecting the books strewn about a patterned, crimson carpet.

“You’re a clumsy one, aren’t you?” he taunts from above you.

Your head snaps upwards and you open your mouth to retort but pause as you take in the new surroundings. Much like the library, this room holds a golden glow highlighted by swirling patterns of golds and reds along the walls. You can feel another fire blazing behind you, and just past the deep-seated sofa in front of you lies an enormous canopy bed. It suddenly clicks—you are in Eris’s private chambers. 

You cock a brow at the sight and a smirk tugs at your lips, “You know, if you wanted to get me in your bed all you had to do was ask.”

He sets down his stack of books on a small, wooden table in front of the couch and reaches a hand down to you expectantly. You tentatively place your hand in his, and he raises you up from the ground, pulling you to his chest with a sultry smile. 

“Is that an offer, darling?” his breath tickles your neck as he dips down to your ear.

Your cheeks flush as he caresses your jawline with his thumb. You clench your thighs as you are reminded of how his fingers felt inside you, dripping in your arousal. But before you can melt into his touch, you raise your lips to his ear and croon, “I’m not that easy. You’ll have to work harder than that, Fox.”

He presses his nose against your temple and groans, the vibration of it sending a tantalizing chill up your spine. Just as easily as he’s able to get you flustered, so are you able to drive him up the wall. 

You pull away from him, ignoring his whine of protest. He is absolutely shameless in his desire for you, and the thought alone makes your gut churn with delight.

You gather your stack of books from the ground and carefully place them beside the other half on the wooden table. You sift through the titles before finally settling on the Tydeus copy Eris recommended. You don’t so much as glance in his direction as you take a seat on the couch and kick off your heavy boots. The fire is just close enough that the flames warm your skin, and you all but sink into its comfort. You can feel Eris’s eyes on you, but you continue to ignore him as you stretch your legs out across the velvet expanse and open the ancient book. You aren’t even through the first page when you feel Eris’s hands on your calves.

You squeal as he raises your legs, giving himself space to sit beside you, before lowering them again so they are draped over his lap. You glare at him over your book, but he ignores your malice as he leans forward and picks his own book from the pile on the table. He leans back in his seat, his legs spread beneath yours, as he opens the book—a rare biography of one of the original Valkyries. Your own book sits limply in your hands as you study his profile—the plump of his lips, the shift of his jaw. You can’t help but admire the freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose. He is incredibly handsome, which simultaneously makes your job easier, and all the more difficult.

“I know I’m gorgeous but try not to drool on my centuries-old book,” he hums nonchalantly, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

You raise your leg to kick him, but he firmly grips your ankle and sets it back onto his lap without so much as a glance in your direction. He doesn’t remove his hand, letting it rest on your leg. With a huff, you return to your book. You are halted, once again, this time by his wandering hand. He teasingly pushes up the skirt of your long dress, just below your knees, so he can rest his hand on your shin. Your breath hitches as he rubs circles into your calf with his thumb, massaging it gently.

Reluctantly, you succumb to the comfort of his touch and return to your book once more. You page through Tydeus’s correspondences with Lady Baldwin. Their letters begin simply enough. But you quickly find yourself immersed in their debate over morality. Whereas the Lady takes a relative stance, Tydeus takes on an absolutist one. As their back-and-forth shifts to the dichotomy of good and evil, you are eerily reminded of your own inner turmoil earlier that morning.

“Anything good so far?” you jump as Eris’s gravelly voice cuts through the comfortable silence.

You meet his inquisitive gaze and note how the flame of the fire reflects in the amber of his eyes.

“My mother would have loved this,” you reply.

She did love it. You remember how she used to read it constantly in the Day Court—you never thought you’d be able to get your hands on a copy of it again. 

“Why is that?” he asks, curiosity laced in his tone.

You lower the book onto your lap, “She loved all of Tydeus’s works. She was a strong believer in the dichotomous division between ‘good’ and ‘evil’.”

Eris sets his own book down and rubs your leg with both of his hands. 

“And what do you think?” he challenges thoughtfully.

You shrug, “I’m not sure. On the one hand, I think morality is relative—that individuals are not uniform, and thus form their own ideas about what is ‘good’ and what is ‘evil’. But then on the other, I used to believe that there are some things we universally categorize as one or the other.”

“You don’t anymore?” he counters

You bite your lip and avert your gaze to the fire. The anxiety you managed to dispel earlier that day starts creeping in. Your gut twists uncomfortably as you reply simply, “I’m not sure.”

His hands slow, noticing your shift in demeanor. He studies the furrow of your brows as you stare into the fire.

“I think it is not morality that dominates the situation, but the situation that dominates morality,” he counters after a few beats of silence.

“A moral relativist?”

“I don’t like labels,” he shrugs.

The vibrancy of the fire is burning your eyes, but you keep them trained on the flames as you reply, “I suppose I agree with that—the problem is, it’s not the answer I’m seeking.”

“And what answer are you seeking?”

You long to reach your hands out over the flames until the heat sears your skin. The déjà vu makes your stomach churn.

“It’s not so much an answer as a direction,” you speak softly to hide the quiver of your voice, “I wish there was some way to know if I’m moving in the right direction.”

He chuckles, “Which brings us back to the question of absolutism versus relativism.”

You peel your eyes away from the flame, and your eyes lock with his. They hold a certain understanding, as if he can see straight through you and into your soul. Your body moves with a mind of its own as you sit up and subconsciously inch closer.

 “I suppose all we can really do is justify our actions for ourselves—and hope that others will agree with our division of morality,” you whisper.

His gaze darkens, and he bows his head towards you, “I think life is full of gray areas, and we can’t be faulted for how we choose to navigate them.”

His response strikes a chord deep within you. Your eyes flick down to his pink lips, just inches away from yours.

Compartmentalization be damned.

You lurch forward to close the gap, and he meets you halfway. 

The moment your lips meet his, every ounce of worry is swept away from your mind. You barely register the thump of your book hitting the ground as his lips glide against yours. His taste is addictive—a sweet peppermint that you can’t seem to get enough of. Your nose bumps against his as you climb on top of him, your legs straddling his lap. You cup the side of his face with your hands, deepening the kiss. He grips the small of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip: a question. Your mouth parts: an answer. 

You snake one hand behind his neck and run your fingers through his crimson locks, tugging sharply. He groans, and just as he moves to deepen the kiss, you abruptly pull away.

His sounds of protest are silenced by your lips against the sensitive skin of his neck. You move tentatively at first, remembering how it felt to have his lips against your neck, and mimic his maneuvers. He tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of your neck, pushing you closer as a sign of encouragement. You become bolder, alternating between open-mouthed kisses, small nips, and swipes of your tongue. His groan of approval spurs you on, and you fiddle with the bottom of his tunic, pulling it up his chest. You draw back briefly to peel the shirt completely off his body before resuming your work.

“Who taught you how to do that?” Eris hisses as you suck harshly at the apex of his collarbone. 

  You grin at the blossoming purple hue on his pale skin and run your tongue over the spot soothingly, “A wily fox too clever for his own good.”

He pulls you back up, abruptly cutting your abuse of his neck short. You eagerly smash your lips against his once more and trail your hands down the expanse of his chest, dragging your nails lightly along his rigid abdomen. His hands loop around you and he swiftly yanks down the zipper of your dress. You eagerly shed the suffocating material, so it pools at your waist, exposing your bare chest to him. Eris moans at the sight of your peaked nipples and doesn’t hesitate to massage your breasts with his large hands. His lips trail down your neck, but before he has a chance to carry out the same treatment you’d given him, you slip from his grasp entirely.

Eris watches, stunned, as you slip off his lap and sink down onto your knees before him. His lips part as you nudge his knees apart, and lurch forward to trail open-mouthed kisses down his chest, to his abdomen, until you finally reach the waistband of his bottoms. He jolts as you brush your hand over the very obvious, and large, tent in his pants.

“Little Bird,” he mumbles as you palm over him, “You don’t have to do this.”

Your eyes flick up to his and you speak with conviction, “I want to.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps and you all but drool at the sight. He nods once, and you begin fiddling with his belt buckle. His hands move to help you, but you swat them away. You make quick work of the fastenings, and slowly drag the material down his legs, inch by inch. You know he’s growing impatient by the clenching of his abdomen. You flash him a sultry smile as you finally pull the material from his legs, leaving him in his underwear. His hands move to the waistband, but you swat them away again. 

 “Patience is a virtue,” you muse before nipping the skin of his inner thigh. He inhales sharply, and shudders as you run your tongue over the same spot, soothing the ache.

“Using my own moves against me,” he croons, but the strain is evident in his voice, “I’m impressed, Little Bird.”

Your heart thumps in your chest as you graze your hands along the waistband of his underwear. You dip your fingers underneath, and your confidence falters slightly. He runs a hand through your hair soothingly, coaxing you to continue. Your keep your eyes trained on his as you inch the fabric down his thighs. He raises his hips and releases a sigh of relief as his erection slaps up against his stomach, free from the confining material. You toss the garment aside haphazardly and take in the sight of his complete bareness.

The first thing you notice is that he’s big—well, you think so, at least, considering you have nothing to compare him to. His dick is much thicker than you’d imagined, with veins branching upwards towards the tip which is a shade darker than the pink of his lips. You can’t help but wonder how it could possibly fit inside you. A blush paints the apples of your cheeks at the thought.

Eris notices your apprehension, and he curls a finger underneath your chin so your eyes meet his. 

“Would you like me to talk you through it?” his voice is soft.

The amber of his eyes is warm, like honey. You nod shyly.

“Okay, darling. Can you wrap your hand around my cock?” the sweetness of his voice is a stark contrast to the dirtiness of the words tumbling from his lips. 

You rest your left hand on his thigh and raise your right hand, delicately wrapping your fingers around his girth at its base. You hold him loosely, and he releases a pleasured sigh at your tentative touch. 

“You can hold it a bit tighter, love,” he hums while stroking the shell of your ear.

You follow his direction with a nod.

“Now move your hand—”

You don’t give him a chance to finish as you slowly begin moving your hand over his cock, from the base to the tip. His lips part and he shudders at the motion.

“Good,” he rasps, “Now can you spit on it? Get it a little wet for me?”

Your cheeks flare, but you follow his request. You timidly lean forward and dribble over his tip, captivated by the way it mixes with the bead of precum before sliding down. You use your hand to spread it around, and the friction eases as your hand slides more freely. 

“I think you’re a natural, Birdie,” he praises through a gasp, “Can you twist your hand for me a bit?”

You twist your hand in time with your strokes, and admire the way his face scrunches with pleasure. You squeeze a bit harder when you reach his base, and his hips twitch. Testing the waters, you slowly lean forward and stick your tongue out, licking over his tip. Eris grunts at the action, and you feel a bit more confident as you wrap your lips completely around the head. 

A guttural moan escapes his lips as you suckle on the head, your hand continuously pumping his shaft. You pull off his tip, and your gut twists with desire at the string of saliva between the head of his cock and your lips. You lurch forward, flattening your tongue against the base and dragging it upwards, before wrapping your lips around the tip again in a teasing maneuver.  

“Fuck,” he groans, “Can you take me a bit deeper?”

You nod, pupils blown. Your hand resumes its stroking movement as you slowly, tentatively, slide downwards. Your mouth burns from the stretch of his girth, but you breathe through your nose steadily. You take him in, inch by inch, until his tip hits the back of your throat, bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. You keep your hand around the base of his shaft, pumping and twisting the length you can’t fit.

“So good for me, Little Bird,” he moans. His right-hand digs into the fabric of the couch until his knuckles turn white, and his left brushes the hair out of your face. “Can you move your pretty little mouth for me?”

You slowly bob your head up and down, timing the strokes of your hand with the rise and fall of your lips. Tears spring to your eyes each time his tip hits the back of your throat and spit dribbles down the sides of your mouth, but any ounce of insecurity is washed away by the sinful noises tumbling from Eris’s lips.

“Can you use your tongue for me?” his voice is strained.

You flatten your tongue against his length as you bob up and down, swirling it around his length to the best of your ability.

“Look at me, love,” he gasps through an animalistic groan.

Your eyes flick up and you peer at him through your lashes. His pupils are blown and his lips parted, brows scrunched with a vulnerability you never imagined you’d see.

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” he rasps, “Wish I could keep you like this forever.”

You hum around him, and he shudders at the vibration. He tangles a hand in your hair, guiding your movements but not pushing you, slowly increasing your pace. Tears begin rolling down your cheeks at the delicious burn in your jaw and the back of your throat.

His chest heaves as he pants, “So close. Just a little more.”

You move with a newfound vigor at his words, finding a rhythm that keeps the noises tumbling from his mouth. You raise your unoccupied hand to the base of his cock. Experimentally, you brush over his balls with your thumb, eliciting raucous moan from Eris. He twitches in your mouth, and you do it again while swirling your tongue in a prolonged sweeping motion around his length.

“Fuck, Little Bird. I’m—”

He halts midsentence with an earth-shattering groan as his cock twitches violently in your mouth. You slow your movements as he reaches his high, thick ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. You splutter at the feeling, but continue milking him, swallowing his load. You stroke him gently, your tongue rubbing along him in a coaxing manner, until his thighs jerk, and his length softens in your mouth. You inch off him, stroking a hand over his thigh soothingly, and press one last kiss to his tip before pulling off completely.

You glance shyly up at Eris, and your chest swells with pride as you find his head thrown back in pure bliss. You rake your nails softly against his thighs, peppering feather-like kisses over his abdomen. His head lulls down towards you, and your heart skips a beat at the carnal look in his eyes. His hands are gentle as he wipes away the tears staining your cheeks before swiping over your mouth, collecting the saliva staining your lips. 

“You are an enigma, Little Bird,” he mumbles while intertwining your hands with his and pulling you back up. 

Your dress falls from your waist to the floor as you rise, leaving you completely bare aside from your panties. He pulls you onto his lap and you eagerly straddle him, connecting your lips to his. He groans into your mouth at the taste of his own release on your lips.

“Good?” you breathlessly ask against his mouth.

He pulls away from your lips with a chuckle and trails kisses underneath your ear as he mutters, “I haven’t finished so quickly in centuries.”

Your eyes crinkle with pride.

His lips meet yours once again, and you marvel at the way you slot together like the final two pieces of a puzzle. Mimicking his earlier move, you run your tongue along his bottom lip and he grants you entry, allowing you to deepen the kiss. His hands run down the curve of your back before settling on your ass, exploring your soft skin. Your gut clenches at the arousal pooling in your panties.

“Would you like to try something new?” he murmurs against your lips.

You respond with an affirmative hum, and whine as he pulls away.

He grips your waist, lifting you off his lap as if you weigh nothing at all, before setting you back down so you straddle just his left thigh. You jolt as your clothed arousal presses against the bare skin of his thigh.

Eris rolls his thumb over your swollen lips and whispers tauntingly, “Are you horny, Little Bird? Do you need some release?”

You nod shamelessly.

“Get yourself off, then.”

Your brows pinch with confusion, but realization dawns over you as he digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, grinding your clothed cunt against his leg. Your lips part in a silent gasp at the wave of pleasure that rolls through you. He guides you as you set a steady rhythm, grinding your throbbing clit against his thigh. The friction is electrifying, but you need more. The thin barrier of fabric separating you from him is suffocating. 

You whine pathetically, and he senses your desire. Eris pinches the flesh of your ass, and you lift your hips slightly. He removes his hands from behind you and you watch as they dip down between your thighs. You throb with anticipation as he hooks a finger underneath the fabric. Your arousal sticks to the flimsy material as he peels it aside, exposing your bare cunt.

“You’re dripping for me, darling,” he croons.

A long moan escapes your lips as you settle back down onto his thigh. With nothing separating you from him, you can feel how every ridge of his muscle stimulates your clit. He continues guiding you with his hands on your waist for a few seconds, before abruptly pulling away. 

You pause, mouth agape, as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. Your cheeks flare in a combination of frustration and embarrassment as he leans back in his seat with a coy smirk on his lips.

He arches a brow expectantly, “Go on.”

You desperately want to wipe the smug look off his face—but your lust, your need for release, is too strong. You brace your hands against his broad shoulders and begin moving again. You groan at the way your clit slides against his bare thigh.

“You like making a mess over my thigh?”

You nod obediently.

He jerks his thigh once underneath you, and you cry out at the sensation.

“I need words, Birdie,” he drawls.

You roll your hips against him desperately and pant between gasps, “I love it.”

He shakes his leg at a steady pace, and the additional stimulation sends you reeling.

“Yeah?” he coos, “Tell me how it feels.”

Your legs tremble as your clit catches against the tensing muscles of his thigh.

“Feels filthy,” you mewl.

He grips your chin firmly, directing your gaze to his, before his arm returns to the back of the couch.

“Fitting for a filthy little girl, getting herself off on my leg,” he purrs, “I’m not even touching you and you’re a whimpering mess for me.”

His degrading words don’t even register, your mind clouded with desire. You can feel the tension building in your gut, and you pant with each roll of your hips. You try to increase your pace as you feel your high approaching, but your legs tremble underneath you, leaving that peak you so desperately desire just out of reach. 

“Please,” your voice trembles.

Eris knows exactly what you want, but he taunts you, “Please what?”

A fat tear escapes the corner of your eye and rolls down your flushed cheeks.

Your bottom lip wobbles as you whimper, “Touch me, Eris. Please.”

He swiftly pulls you off his thigh and lays you down on the couch. He crashes his lips against yours, your teeth bumping at the force. Eris doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath as he trails his hand up your inner thigh before sliding his middle finger through your slick, from your entrance to your swollen clit. Unlike last time, he doesn’t waste time teasing as he promptly sinks his middle finger inside of you. 

You cry out at the feeling of his finger deep inside you, and he curls it in response. He doesn’t hold back as he rubs your clit with his thumb while thrusting his finger, curling it against your g-spot with each maneuver. He latches his lips to your neck and sucks harshly while his unoccupied hand flicks over your peaked nipples. 

Your mind whirls at the sensation—the feeling of him all over you. It’s almost too much, having him everywhere. You desperately claw at his back, searching for something to stabilize you. 

Your stomach coils as you feel your high approaching again. He can feel you clench around his finger, and he groans against your skin, “You gonna cum for me, love? Finish all over my hand?”

Another tear rolls down your cheek, “Yes,” you blubber, “’M so close.”

“Let go, Little Bird,” he coaxes while slipping another finger inside of you.

The added stretch sends you over the edge. You all but scream as shockwaves of pleasure roll through your body. Your toes curl and your nails dig into his back as your vision spots. His fingers slow, but he keeps rubbing your clit as you ride through your high. He continues until your hips jerk from the overstimulation, and your hands go limp around his neck. You wince as he pulls his fingers from you and watch through hooded eyes as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking up every last drop of your arousal. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, your mind spinning in a post-orgasmic haze. 

Eris softly strokes your cheek with the back of his hand before dipping down and capturing your lips with his. This time, the kiss is slow—no bumping teeth or clashing tongues. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, relishing in the intimacy of it all, until he pulls away.

An airy laugh passes through your lips as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You’ll be the end of me, Little Bird,” Eris mumbles. He places a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose before collapsing on top of you. You grunt at the weight, and he shifts over enough so that he isn’t restricting your breathing, but his bare body remains draped over yours.

 “The end is but a beginning in disguise,” you tease as he nestles his nose against your cheek.

He chuckles, his breath tickling your neck. 

“How were you made so wise?” he muses.

“Wisdom isn’t born, Fox. It’s learned,” you trace your fingers along the arm draped over you, “And I have a lot more living to do before I can even come close to it.”

“Well, I think you’re plenty wise,” he curves a finger underneath your chin and tilts your head towards his.

Your nose is millimeters apart from his as you gaze into his amber eyes. Their golden hue is vibrant, much like his lopsided smile. But suddenly, something inside them dims, and the corners of his lips twitch downwards. Your brows furrow as you note the subtle change.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, brushing back his crimson locks.

Eris shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

You quirk a brow, “Clearly not.”

His hardened stare doesn’t stray from your eyes, but it seems to be searching for something. A chill crawls up your spine at his scrutinizing gaze, as if he’s trying to read your darkest thoughts. You’re suddenly aware of how exposed, how vulnerable you are to him right now—both physically and emotionally.

“Your eyes…” he pauses, as if searching for the right words, before continuing, “Do you remember the first night we met?”

The crinkle between your brows deepens, “How could I forget?”

He wets his lips before replying, “I told you your eyes were familiar.”

Fuck.

You pray that he doesn’t feel the uptick of your heart and continue stroking his arm steadily.

“I just realized,” he continues, “Who they remind me of.”

Panic washes over you, but your expression doesn’t falter, and you maintain your soothing touch.

“Oh?” you hum nonchalantly, “Who may that be?”

Eris shifts his gaze away from the eyes in question, and instead watches the rise and fall of your bare chest.

“A woman I knew a long time ago,” he finally replies.

You continue threading your fingers through his hair as you contemplate your next words. You are breeching unfamiliar territory, and one wrong step could doom you.

“Was she important to you?” you ask cautiously.

He doesn’t respond for a while, and his body is tense over yours. You wait with bated breath for his reply, your curiosity growing with each passing second.

“I don’t know.”

It’s not what you were expecting—but you aren’t sure what you were expecting, exactly.

You mull over his response, nibbling on your bottom lip in thought. Pressing him further feels like a violation—not only of his vulnerability, but of Mor’s. But curiosity is gripping you like a vice. This is the first time in a week you’ve gotten him close to talking about the Night Court, you justify to yourself, don’t let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

“May I ask what happened?” you inquire tentatively.

 He grunts and rests his head in the crook of your neck, “It’s not exactly a bedtime story, darling.”

You frown, unsure how to press him further without raising suspicion. 

He must notice your disappointment as he sighs, “I can practically hear those gears turning in your head, Little Bird. Would you really like to know?”

You nod. He traces shapes over the expanse of your stomach as he contemplates where to begin.

“Many centuries ago, my father arranged for my marriage to a daughter of the Night Court,” he speaks slowly, “It was purely political—a chance to strengthen the alliance between our courts.”

This is so wrong, you think to yourself. But you make no move to stop him.

“She did not want the union. So, the night before the wedding, she escaped—into the arms of another male, hoping that if she tarnished her…purity, the wedding would be called off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you know exactly what’s coming next, but you blink them away.

“Her father was—is—a cruel man. As cruel as my father,” the steadiness of his voice falters, but he continues, “When he found out what she’d done, he tortured her with a brutality unlike any I’ve witnessed. He left her, stripped naked, at the border of our court, with a sign that she was ours to deal with.”

You’re grateful for his sparing of the details, because you’re not sure you’d be able to hold yourself together.

“I found her that morning, while out with my guards,” he stops, and for a moment you don’t think he will continue. But he releases a deep sigh, and barely speaks above a whisper, “I demanded them not to touch her.”

Anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach, and it takes everything in you not to scream. You feel nauseous, the reality of your predicament suddenly sobering—the reality that you’re lying naked on a couch with a man who left your sister for dead.

 “If I or any of my guards touched her, she would have been stuck in Autumn—doomed to a life she did not want, according to my court’s laws. If I had…” his voice trembles ever so slightly, “If I had touched her, my father would have killed her on the spot. So, I left her there. I knew her…her friends would come save her. But it was not a decision I wanted to make.”

The fury trembling in your bones settles, and your mind reels over his recount of the events. This is not the version of the story you’ve heard from Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel. He could be lying—but what reason would Eris have to lie to you, when he is blissfully unaware of your relation to Mor? More than that, you’re unable to ignore the sincerity, the distress in his voice. 

“Do you regret it?” you whisper so quietly; you’re surprised he can hear you.

“No,” his response is immediate, “Not for a minute. I gave her a chance to live. Even if she doesn’t see it that way. But I’ll never be able to get that image out of my head…of her pleading for help, and me being unable to grant it.”

Your mouth is dry and you’re sure he can feel the thundering of your heart. Your head is a muddled mess, to say the least. 

“Gray areas,” you whisper simply.

We can’t be faulted for how we choose to navigate them, his earlier words ring through your mind. But not faulting him feels like the gravest betrayal you could commit.

A humorless chuckle tumbles from his lips as he echoes you, “Gray areas.”

His head sinks further into the crook of your neck and he runs his thumb soothingly over your abdomen, unknowingly combatting the pounding of your head as you process the onslaught of new—and unexpected—information. 

“Do you still align with the Night Court?” you change the subject boldly but keep your tone nonchalant.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem fazed by your question. Unfortunately, he doesn’t entertain it either.

“I like to keep my business separate from the bedroom,” he rasps against your neck, and you shudder at the tickle of his breath.

You purse your lips into a humorless smile, “Compartmentalization.”

“Forgive me, darling,” he muses, the seriousness of his tone gone, “But I can’t bring myself to discuss pompous High Lords while lying atop a beautiful, naked female.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” you tease half-heartedly.

He raises his head from your shoulder and looks down at you, the fox-like grin that had momentarily disappeared back, “I don’t think, I know,” he brushes his nose along your jawline, “You are the most delectable little thing I’ve seen in centuries.”

  You feel his groin twitch against your upper thigh, and you roll your eyes, “You are insatiable, Eris Vanserra.”

He laughs and your heart sings at the sound, despite your reeling mind. He presses his chest against yours and stretches his arm out to the floor. You watch curiously as he rolls back into his previous position with your forgotten book in hand.

“I’m not quite sure if Tydeus qualifies as a bedtime story either,” you arch a brow.

He shrugs with a cheeky grin, “Well if you ever plan on getting through that mountain of books, you’d better get started.”

Eris holds it out expectantly, and after a moment of contemplation, you grab it with your free arm. You untangle your other hand from his hair and wrap it around his shoulder so you can balance the book on your stomach with both arms. He squirms over you, and you squeak he accidentally elbows the side of your breast.  

“Careful,” you hiss.

“My apologies, Little Bird,” he coos as he finally finds a comfortable position on his side. One arm rests underneath your neck, while the other remains draped over your stomach behind the book. He drops his head onto your shoulder, so he has a full view of the book in your hands.

“I’ll let you know when to turn the page,” he nods his head against you, encouraging you to begin.

You squint but relent as you see his eyes moving back and forth, reading the text before him. You can feel him smiling below you as you focus your gaze on the page in front of you and pick up where you left off earlier. 

You’re nearing the end of the page when Eris taps the side of your hand with his finger. He waits patiently for you to finish, and both of your heads shift when you flip the page. You fall into a comfortable rhythm. He taps your hand softly each time to indicate when he’s finished, and you alternate between who finishes first with each flip of the page. The rise and fall of your bare chest moves in time with his breath against your skin, and despite your nudity, you don’t feel an ounce of shyness.

As you read, you can’t help but think that this must be what heaven feels like: orange flames warming your skin as you lounge on a couch reading with a gorgeous, and very naked, male on top of you. But there’s just one tiny problem—the gorgeous, and very naked, male in question.

You feel your thoughts slip from the book and urge yourself to focus on Tydeus’s philosophy rather than dwell on your anxiety. You find yourself so immersed in one passage in particular, that you don’t notice the way Eris’s breathing slows, or how his head lulls against your chest. You reach the end of the page and wait patiently for his signal to continue. Your brows cinch as the seconds stretch into minutes. You look down and realize that the heir to the Autumn Court throne, in all his glory, is sleeping like a babe using your breasts as a pillow.

The book lays forgotten in your hands as you observe him. Even in his softest of moments, his features still hold a certain sharpness. But right now, he looks…peaceful. His cheek is pressed up against the flesh of your breast, and with his eyes closed, you notice that his eyelashes are much longer than you imagined. You long to trace your fingers over the freckles splattered across his nose, to feel the curve of his nose. It’s hard to think that the male before you is capable of any cruelty at all.

But he is. 

And you’re gazing at him wide-eyed like a lovestruck teenager.

 You wish you could speak to your sister right now. You’re not sure what you’d say—maybe nothing at all. Maybe looking into her eyes, which are so similar to yours, would reveal some hidden truth, buried deep under centuries of hatred. Or maybe they would hold disdain—disappointment directed at you, for rolling around with a male who hurt her deeply.

Eris snores softly, halting your train of thought. Your chest tightens and the flames of the fire start to burn your skin. You can’t stay here. More importantly, you have a job to do.

You set the book down on the floor beneath you, and cautiously shift your body. He grunts in his sleep, but doesn’t stir, as you carefully slip out from underneath him. You hiss as you tumble onto the ground below and pause to make sure he’s still asleep. His snores don’t falter, and you rise from the ground.

You make quick work of gathering your clothes, cringing at the dried arousal covering your inner thighs and panties. Just as you’re about to slip out of his chambers, you turn back to take one last glance at his sleeping form. You gnaw your lower lip, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. Against your better judgment, you search for a scrap piece of paper and pen to leave him a note, as he had done for you.

‘Till we meet again, Eris Vanserra

Your lips purse—simple, yet effective. You set the note down on the wooden table and drape a throw blanket over the sleeping male in case he has any unexpected visitors. You don’t dare look back as you creep towards the doors.

The creaking of the rusted hinges has you cringing as you ease them open, inch by inch, and peer into the hallway. It’s empty—thank the Mother—with the only movement coming from the flickering flames of torches on the walls. 

You slink into the shadows as you move to your left down the hallway. Assuming Azriel’s map is correct, Eris’s office is two floors above his personal chambers, about one mile to the left. Despite the sizeable distance, you don’t risk winnowing for fear of someone catching you.

As you move along the walls, there’s a heavy weight on your shoulders. You can’t help but feel guilty for playing with his feelings and using them to your advantage—especially following the vulnerability he showed you tonight. But you remind yourself that, even in life’s dimmest gray areas, your loyalty to your family is unwavering.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you scale the winding staircase, keeping an eye out for any guards or lurking Vanserras. As you make your way down the next hallway, identical to the last, you move as swiftly as you can. The sooner you’re gone, the better—but you can’t deny the unease that grows with each step. On one hand, you hope you’ll find something to report back to Rhys. But on the other, you dread finding something that may contradict your image of Eris thus far.

Your steps are featherlight, and by the grace of the Cauldron, you make it to your destination without any setbacks. You press your ear against the door before slowing pushing it open.

The room is much like Eris’s chambers: swirling yellows and reds along the walls, a blazing fireplace, and a deep mahogany rug carpet covering the stone floor. In the middle sits a large, mahogany desk, covered in parchment. You creep forward, careful not to make any noise. You run your fingers along the polished wood of the desk, glancing over the papers. Nothing stands out as you shuffle through them. You search through his cabinets, rifle through the small bookcase in the back, and even check beneath the cushions of the chairs. All you can seem to find is polite, and uninteresting, correspondences with various courts, and menial to-do lists. You check each possible hiding place but come up short once again. There’s absolutely nothing here.

You’re not sure whether to feel relieved or frustrated—or perhaps, both. You glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the dimly lit room. 3:06. You contemplate redirecting your search to Beron’s office, but you remember from Azriel’s map that it’s six floors down, and approximately two miles away on the opposite side of the house. If you were to go now, there’s a chance the sun would be rising by the time you’re ready to leave, leaving you defenseless without the dark of the shadows. 

With a sigh, you check over the room once more to ensure nothing is out of place before making your exit. You leave just as you came, slinking into the shadows along the hallways as quiet as a mouse. As you navigate the winding tunnels, you wonder if Eris is still sleeping soundly by the fire, or if he’s aware of your absence. And as your thoughts drift to the crimson-haired heir, you find yourself moving faster—as if escaping the walls of the Forest House will erase him from your mind. 

The wind is even more chilling than usual in the dead of night, you realize as you finally make it out through a side door. You make quick work of the courtyard, using the shadows to your advantage to avoid detection by the sentries littered throughout. When you finally make it out, you will the air to twist and fold around you, winnowing you back to your ransack cabin just as the sun begins to peek out from the horizon. Your limbs are tired, but your mind is racing. You know that sleep will not be kind to you. So, you kick off your boots and plop yourself on the dirty floor in front of the fireplace.

You find yourself just as you were before; hovering your hands over the orange embers until the burn becomes too much, and you are forced to pull away. Again. Over and over. As if the pain will grant you some sense of clarity. As if nothing has changed since you were last sat here. As if you aren’t falling further into the fox’s trap with no way out.

Being born of Light and Dark can be a difficult thing. But there are far worse evils in the world, some lurking just around the corner. 

taglist:

@lilah-asteria @goldenmagnolias @myromanempiree @i-know-i-can @hannzoaks @olive-main @lilylilyyyyyy @batboygirlie @stuff-i-found-while-crying @moni-cah @6000-fandoms @melsunshine @roseodelle @rcarbo1

[spicybunni]

Love Bites

I’ve had this lingering headcanon that all the Lords in RE:VILLGE need blood to appease the cadou inside them?

Summary: Some headcanons/descriptions of how the Lords in RE Village bite you for the first time/ how they use you for your blood 🩸

WARNINGS ⚠️ blood, injury to reader, biting , rough handling, violence to reader, yandere tendencies

DONNA BENEVIENTO

🪡 - Yandere vibes with this one and you can’t convince me otherwise.

🪡- You were visiting the estate to give Donna some fabric she had requested from the village. You were one of the estate’s gardeners so going to the mansion was no big deal, besides getting a glimpse of Lord Beneviento from time to time.

🪡- She had to have some excuse for you to come into her manor alone. For some time she has been observing you from all windows of the estate and concluded she needed to have you, taste you, lock you away…

🪡 - She would trap you in once you placed the fabric on the table inside. You would panic at the sight of the doors slamming on their own, being in a dark and creepy manor such as Benevientos.

🪡- She would sneak around you in silence once she has you trapped. The dolls would move on their own in excitement and anticipation like their master. The whole atmosphere is making you panic with paranoia.

🪡 - Appearing in front of your vision suddenly with her arms outstretched to you. She rushes over before you could react. Suddenly being embraced by Lord Beneviento makes you stay still with shock, not knowing how to respond. You realize that her usual veil was missing too. You feel her hair tickle the side of your face.

“M-My Lord??…What are yo-“

“Silence.”

🪡- An unknown force would make you go nonverbal before feeling a sting on your neck that gradually gets worse. Donna is very sadistic when it comes to inflicting pain. So your whimpers and groans are music to her ears.

🪡- She would let go with a pop of her lips, licking an excess blood dripping from you. Looking directly at you once she is done. Having the biggest grin on her face, blush on her cheeks, and a little bit of your blood dripping from her mouth.

🪡 - There’s something so perverted about how she just wants you to herself, to play with and drink from.

🪡 - She will gladly leave you alone in the manor if you refuse to let her drink or give her resistance. Watching as you dodge unimaginable horrors chase you down to your new bedroom where she awaits you.

🪡 - Just holds you after she feeds from you. You would be pretty weak from how much she drinks from you to not oppose her cuddling.

“I can’t let you leave, I won’t let you!”

SALVATORE MOREAU

🐚 - Oh man, this guy is even more awkward than Donna when it comes to interacting with villagers.

🐚 - He would wobble out from his spongey abyss of the docks, and come watch you work on the windmill. You've had your share of encounters with Moreau, but always found it creepy he would watch you for a moment before approaching you.

🐚 - His bloodlust would not overtake him completely, he just had this urge to be around you all the time. He could never romantically love you since he held that spot for Mother Miranda, but he did favor you.

🐚 - One day you managed to injure yourself while hammering nails into wood. The hammer smashing your finger and breaking skin. You cursed to yourself and it seemed to draw Lord Moreau out of hiding to reach you. You jumped at first but calmed down when you realized it was just him. You showed him the little cut in your finger, signifying that you were alright. He offered you a handkerchief from his cloak to clean the blood dripping from your finger.

🐚 - You hiss at the sting of cloth rubbing against it, but it quickly subsides. You were going to toss it later, putting it in your pocket. The Lord blubbers out "W-Wait! Noo..I can take it if you'd like.." He says disappointedly. You raise an eyebrow at his reaction, but he's technically your boss so you return the handkerchief back to him. "I'm sorry it's dirty my lord, are you sure you want it back?"

🐚 - His pupils were dilated, his mouth agape as he watches the liquid is soaked up by the cloth he gave you.

"It's no t-trouble at all, I shall go fetch you some proper bandages..."

As he waddles away, he hides quickly from your view behind a boulder and sniffs the handkerchief and bites into it, trying to wring out any blood.

He would end up almost eating it before wanting to preserve your essence. 🫣

ALCINA DIMITRESCU

🩸- You were one of Alcina’s favorite servants. You knew all the rules like the back of your hand. There was no reason to brag about it though, you have done a lot precautions because you’ve seen what happens when you don’t follow in line. You just kept your head down and avoided her daughters like the plague.

🩸- Alcina does have a preference for man blood that she mixes in her wine. But she loves the taste of a fearful and devoted servant from time to time as well.

🩸- She would summon you randomly to her study, sending a maid to fetch you. The maid would look at you with pity. Nobody usually see's the lady alone unless its the head maid/butler or if you are getting fired. You respond with haste and drop whatever it is that you are doing to go there. Rushing through all servant corridors and arriving out of breath.

🩸- You would be filled with anxiety over what she could possibly want with you. She tells you to come in and to take a seat. You open the doors to your Lady in reading glasses with papers and books organized everywhere. She walks over to you as she closes up what she is doing. Towering over you as she approaches.

🩸- Much like a predator to a prey, she would circle around you as she makes small talk. And you make small replies back. She would make comments of how you are such a good servant to the Dimitrescu castle, making you turn red at the praise.

Stopping behind you, she leans down to whisper to you. Making you shake where you stand.

"-but you know Y/N, your most delicious quality is.. your obedience."

🩸- She would grab you from behind and drag you to the loveseat nearby, making you sit in her lap with your back against her chest. She uses one hand to raise your left arm up to her lips, the other is wrapped under your right arm and gripping your head in place. Your screams and cries of protest were not heard by her as she sunk her fangs into your forearm. The pain was awful, it makes your hand cramp and muscles sore from straining in one position.

🩸- If you kept freaking out as she drank from you, she would use the hand gripping your face to cover your mouth instead. Such a dreadful noise.

🩸- She wouldn't drink enough from you to make you faint, but you are most certainly weak and not in any shape to make a quick escape.

🩸- Shifting your position in her lap, she would move to carry you to her chambers for the night. All you see illuminating through the dark halls of the castle were those terrifyingly golden eyes of hers, peering down at you in her arms.

🩸- Would only approach you for your blood after the first bite, even if it meant stealing you away in front of everyone.

🩸- Will throw you against the wall if you refuse to give blood.

🩸 - Your neck and arms would be littered with dark lipstick and bite marks.

"Consider it a promotion, Y/N. You are now my new favorite drink."

KARL HEISENBERG

⚙️- This man is half lycan, of course he consumes blood.

⚙️ - He tries to reserve himself from drinking blood for as long as he can. To him it’s what separates him from his other monstrous siblings. He does get a vial from another Miranda every now and then, scolding him that he needs to take better care of himself.

⚙️ - His eyes would be blood shot and constantly have headaches when he craves blood. He’s more irritated and is easily pissed off. Making him take out a lot of rage onto his machines.

⚙️ - If it’s that time of the month for him when he transforms and joins the Lycan pack for a hunt, then there’s no controlling his blood lust.

⚙️- Meaning if you were to pass by in his factory, covered in sweat and body hot from working near the factory fires, he would pounce you immediately. Or if you were to approach him asking “Lord Heisenberg…are you alright?” He would grab you by the hand and hold you from behind, biting into your neck.

⚙️ - His bites are the worst, they are so painful it would make you well up with tears and hyperventilating after your initial scream of agony.

⚙️ - With his intense bloodlust he would most likely drink you dry, or be very close to killing you, making you go limp in his hold either way.

⚙️- If you woke up, it would be in an office/bedroom in his factory. Your neck would be bandaged and sore. You go to touch it but your hand is restrained by a cuff to the bed post.

⚙️ - He realizes its a better solution to his lycan transformation, just having a person for his own feeding so he doesn’t harm the village. At least that’s less of a bother Miranda which means she leaves him alone. Problem solved! But not for you. He would limit your exploring to only one side of factory, isolating you from the rest of your old coworkers who wondered what happened to you.

⚙️ - Will not hesitate to drink from you in his Lycan form as a punishment for refusing him. Which is way worse than dealing with his “human” form.

⚙️ - Is not great with wound aftercare besides bandaging your bite marks. He just treats you like a meal and would leave until he gets hungry again. Doesn’t bother talking with you unless it’s to give you an order.

“Normally I would have let you go, but I never thought a villager would be so tasty. So now you must stay. Or face becoming one with my factory Y/N!”

MOTHER MIRANDA

🕷️ - You just really have no choice when it comes to the villager leader. You are to do as ordered without question or face her wrath like everyone else.

🕷️ - Her interest in you only went so far as seeing how devoted you were to her. You would always offer yourself as a volunteer to help her or do small favors for Mother Miranda. Were you a good person? Maybe. Were you actually just trying to get in her good graces? Yes.

🕷️ - Miranda didn’t usually partake in consumption of blood. She left that sort of activity to her children mostly. From time to time however she would taste the samples in her lab of villagers who passed or failed her experiments for the Cadou. She would feel her body react positively to the small drink.

🕷️ - Recently she was feeling weak and exhausted every time she used her powers. Drained of all energy at the stupid meetings with her children regarding this pitiful village. She thought that she could try you out, and if you died in the process? Well, she could consume another.

🕷️ - The cruel thing is that she knew you wouldn’t refuse her request. You would do anything to be helpful or if use to her right? So just be silent and still.

🕷️ - “You want to help me don’t you, Y/N?” She asks with a malicious tone in her voice.

🕷️ - She would be up close to your face, her glowing golden eyes piercing into yours as she holds your face in her hands. She would slowly guide her hand behind your back, arching you and supporting your weight. Moving your face to one side, she would lean down and bite.

🕷️ - There is only a little pain from the puncture, but the sting of her sucking you blood out makes you yelp and twitch in her arms. You thought this would be over quickly but her lips have yet to leave you.

🕷️ - Once she has a taste it was difficult for her to stop. Her black wings come out and flutter as she drinks from you. In your vision, all you see is her blond hair and wings extending out before you fall into a slight blood loss slumber.

🕷️ - After the first taste, she did not want to let you go. You would tell the whole village how she abused your devotion just to take from you. As she locked up Mia in a isolated cell she would do the same to you. Except you were given more than Mia was. A bed and table with books. Your basic needs were met but your life was changed forever. Becoming only a blood pack for Mother Miranda to feed off of when she was feeling low. If you dared to give her any trouble in feeding from you she would discipline you until you understood your place, restraining you with black tree roots and muffling your cries with her hand as she would have her fill of you.

[simplyholl]

The Villain’s Weapon Pt. 1

Summary: When you hit your head and lose your memory, you fall into Loki’s clutches.

Warnings: Eventual smut. Memory loss. Villain Loki. Thanos.

The battle was never ending. You and the other Avengers were never going to defeat Loki. He had taken Clint and Dr. Selvig using them against you as he took the Tesseract. It didn’t help that he would only show up every now and then to taunt the team. Otherwise you couldn’t locate him.

Loki fought against you. “We have to stop meeting like this, little one.” Loki teased. You used your magic, a cloud of blue surrounding you as you fought back. You underestimated the power you put behind it, the aftershock throwing you back against a boulder. You hit your head with a loud thud as your vision went black.

When you came to, a large man towered over you. You studied his face trying to place him. You couldn’t remember where you were or what you were doing outside. You didn’t even know who you are. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you, little one.” Little one. That was familiar. You obviously knew this strangely dressed man. You look down at your own apparel. You were wearing a leather catsuit, so you couldn’t say anything about him.

You hear fighting all around you. You sit up, suddenly scared of your surroundings. What was happening? Pain surges through your head, you place a hand on it. You were bleeding. Your suit was torn like you had been fighting too. You stand up, feeling a little dizzy. You grab the man before you, pulling him in for a hug. You don’t know why, but you trust him.

He said he was looking for you after all. The term of endearment he used rang a bell. If you were fighting, you must be on his side. He looks down at you like you have lost your mind. Maybe you haven’t hugged before and this was out of character for you. You quickly pull away.

“I’m so sorry. I think I must have hit my head too hard. I can’t remember anything. But you seem familiar. You said you were looking for me, so I just assumed.” He looks at you incredulously. “You really don’t remember who you are or what you are doing out here?” You look around again, not recognizing anyone or anything, but him.

“There seems to be a battle. I assume I’m on your side?” You look into his bright blue eyes as a smile appears on his lips. “Yes, that is correct. Those people over there are the Avengers. They are trying to stop me - erm - us. I’ll tell you more about it once we get back to our lair.”

Loki couldn’t believe his luck. He was waiting for you to come to after the nasty fall you had taken when your magic threw you back. You were powerful, but you didn’t have complete control over your power. With his help, you would be unstoppable. And now, you were on his side.

“She’s dangerous.” Thanos told Loki. “Right now, she isn’t. She doesn’t even know she has powers.” Loki argued. “This is perfect. I will train her, we will use her to fight the Avengers.” Thanos shook his head. “What if her memory comes back? It’s too big of a risk.” Loki paces the floor, “Trust me, she won’t. She took a nasty fall. Just let me try this out before we send the Chitauri.” “You have two months.” Thanos stated as he cut communication.

Loki set up a room for you. He conjured clothes for your closet, shoes in your size, everything you might need in order to convince you that you actually lived here. He found you on the bed, looking out the window. “I’ve come to dress your wounds.” You nod, turning toward him. He examined the cut on your head, green flowing from his hands as he healed it. He explained that he could use magic and apparently so could you. He was going to start retraining you tomorrow.

“The other cuts aren’t as severe so I will clean them myself.” He explained. You slid the strap of your tank top down your shoulder to give him better access to the wound. You gasp when the alcohol wipe touches your skin, causing the area to sting. You watch him intently, long pale fingers working diligently to patch every scratch on you.

“Lay back.” He commands, reaching for the hem of your tank top. You had a large cut just under your breasts. You do as your told, he rolls the fabric up just under your nipples. You hold your breath. Your skin prickles, turning into goosebumps everywhere he touches. Your nipples harden as he patches you up.

Loki notices how you are physically reacting to his touch. How your nipples hardened when he placed his hands on your stomach. How your breath hitched when he pulled your shirt up. The worst part was he could feel his pants growing tighter. He wasn’t surprised that you had that kind of reaction toward him. He was a god after all. But he never expected you to have that effect on him. His hands grew shaky as he finished bandaging you. “Good as new.” He murmured, yanking your shirt down to cover you.

“Loki?” He stopped his retreat from your room, freezing in your doorway. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” You get off the bed, walking toward him, pulling him in for another embrace. He reluctantly pulls you closer to him. You can tell he isn’t a hugger. His large hand smooths the back of your hair. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was there too.” You bury your face into his chest, breathing him in. He looks down at you, expression unreadable. This is going to be a long two months.

Part Two

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @xorpsbane @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @itsybitchylittlewitchy

[gottalovetumbler]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 12

ᵖʳⁱᶜᵉ/ᵍᵃᶻ/ᵏʳᵘᵉᵍᵃʳ/ᵃˡᵉʲᵃⁿᵈʳᵒ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Info: cussing (as always), short

——— 🛏️ 🍳 ———

The pounding in your head drags you up from the depths of sleep. Black tendrils try to hold on, try to pull you back under. Warm blankets and soft sheets whisper false promises of you staying forever. Bright and sharp pain cuts through the dark.

An amused scoff answers your groan of pain as you roll onto your stomach. Knuckles tap your shoulder before turning and opening, reveling two white pills.

Nails accidentally scratch the outstretched palm and you send an apologetic sound to the owner of it. A cup of water is shoved into your vision as the attempt to dry swallow the pills ends in you sitting up and nearly choking.

’𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕛𝕒. 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕚𝕞𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕦𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕥 𝟠𝕒𝕞.’

Swallowing roughly, your eyes slightly tear up from the water hitting your dry throat. The dark blue light filtering the room from the curtains is enough to tell you, this isn’t your room. That’s confirmed by the large and soft king sized bed, not your thin twin sized. And the plush carpet instead of cold concrete.

‘Ale? Where am I?’

‘𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕥he ℂ𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕠. 𝔻𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕟. 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕚𝕩𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒 𝕓𝕚𝕥...... 𝕠𝕕𝕕.’

’Odd? What do you mean by odd? Did I do something bad?’

‘ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕. 𝕀𝕕 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕤𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕙.’

The idea of dwelling on that new fact was tempting but the pain in your bladder won the battle for your attention. Your legs feel like jello as you try to stand, after some back and forth Ale finally helps you to the bathroom. He’s chuckles at your flushed cheeks and quiet thanks while closing the door.

You emerge a few minutes later after successfully getting the feeling back in your legs. Instead of going left and back to the bedroom you head right, towards the noise of life. Cutlery scratching against porcelain dishes makes your face scratch and ears ring.

‘Mornin Luv, how’d ya sleep?’ Gaz greets from his perch at the bar. A plate of eggs and bacon in-front of him.

‘Slept fine,’ you rub your dry eyes and yawn. ‘what happened and why am I here?’

‘You passed out while serving soup at lunch a few days ago. Graves and Velikan were the first to notice other than your little friend. We were going to bring you back to your dorm but doctors say you need to be monitored and so, you’re here instead.’

‘I don’t need to be monitored. I’m a fully grown adult.’

‘Yes Las you do and don’t try to fight us on it.’ The boom of Prices voice makes you wince as you tune to face him.

‘No I don’t-‘

‘You called Soaps car an animal last night. You also convinced yourself that this,’ he gestures to the air, ‘is actually the main kitchen, just renovated by ninjas. Including the bedroom and the whole base also.’

‘Oh…’

‘Yea, oh…. is right. Till we deem you fit to survive on your own, you’re staying here being monitored. It’ll be like the hospital, you’re either here or there’s at-least 1 trusted adult with you at all times.’

‘A trusted adult? Are you actually being serious? I can’t tell with the accent.’

‘Dead. Today your on full bed rest, no getting up except for the bathroom. Your trusted adult will bring any food or anything you’ll need otherwise.’

‘How long will this go on? I have stuff to do. Also, aren’t you guys busy with some big mission? How are any of you going to have the time to spend watching me?’

‘We are busy but not all at the same time. Majority of it is paper work anyway so even if whoever’s here has stuff to do, they can do it on a laptop easily.’

Arguments try to fester in your mind. You can take care of yourself just fine, no need for some trusted fucking adult. Maybe you could lie that missing too many days might get you sent back to your home base. Or maybe you can go Prices boss. They might be able to make the captain let you work or at the very least, heal alone. Maybe you can-

You must have hard core zoned out seeing as Price and Gaz are gone, leaving the kitchen empty. The sound of the front door creaking open and them talking to someone fills the silence.

‘You good to watch her? Don’t let her out of your sight, at-least not today. She’ll definitely try to run.’

‘ꪗꫀᜣ ꪖꪶꪶ ᧁꪮꪮᦔ ꫝꫀ᥅ꫀ. ﺃꪶꪶ ᛕꫀꫀᜣ ꪖꪀ ꫀꪗꫀ ꪮꪀ ꫝꫀ᥅, ᛕꫀꫀᜣ ꫝꫀ᥅ ꪮꪊꪻ ꪮᠻ ꪻ᥅ꪮꪊ᥇ꪶꫀ.’

Dammit of course the one trusted adult is the fucking shed man. Maybe you will stay in bed all day, then you won’t need to struggle with understanding the walking mesh bags voice.

——— 🛏️ 🍳 ———

[specialagentlokitty]

Master chief x reader - learning new feelings with you

Saw that you would start writing for Master Chief. I finished watching it like a week ago so this is a funny coincidence😂. Maybe a Master Chief (John-117) x reader with this prompt “Did you mean it?” “What?” “When you said you loved me did you mean it?” from your 2024 prompts. So many of the 2024 prompts would be great for him. You don't have to write this if you don't won't to as always of course.( •◡-)-♡ - Anon💜

Sitting at your desk, you flicked through some of the files on the tablet you were holding, taking a sip of your tea that was sat in front of you.

There was a knock on the door and you looked up.

“Come in.” You called.

The door was opened, and you smiled a little bit at the Spartan and your cell doctor who came through the door.

“Miranda, Master Chief, what brings you here?” You asked.

The Spartan took a seat in a chair on the other side of the room, and Miranda walked over to you.

“I’m sorry Doctor, I know you’re very busy but John has been injured, and he refuses medical assistance. I thought maybe you could convince him to get help.”

You nodded, standing up from your desk.

“I’ll see that the chief is safe. Thank you for bringing him here.”

She smiled, heading out of your office and you turned around to John, walking over you took a seat in front of him.

“Why are you refusing medical care Master Chief?”

“I don’t know who I can trust, who I can’t trust.”

You slowly nodded your head.

“You’ve been having an influx of emotions since you removed the pellet from your back, these are emotions you have never felt before so you don’t know how to process them, that’s okay.”

You leant over the table, tapping a finger against the helmet over his head.

“However, refusing medical assistance when it’s needed is not okay. It’s dangerous to put yourself in that situation.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, may you remove your helmet please? Show me where the injury is.”

John reached up, carefully pulling his helmet off, setting it on the floor next to his foot.

He looked up, his eyes connecting with yours, and you pulled a torch out from your pocket, flashing it over his eyes.

“Follow my finger.”

He did as you said, and you carefully turned his head from side to side to ensure that there was no pain or restriction with his movements.

“You’ll need a few stitches, but otherwise you’ll be fine. I can have somebody from the medical team come up and sort that out.”

“No.”

“No?”

You turned around to look at John, setting your tablet back down, showing him that you were listening to what he was saying.

“Do you not want the medical team to do it?”

“No.”

“Alright, I won’t call for them.”

Walking across your office, you grabbed a first aid box you kept in there and walked back over, taking what you would need out.

John didn’t say anything as you placed your hand on the side of his face, turning it just a little bit so you could work on stitching the wound on the side of his head.

“I hope you know that I’m no medical doctor Chief, so this will be a dodgy job at best.”

“I know.”

You hummed a little bit, remember what you had learnt a long time ago as you fixed up his injury for him.

When you were done, you bagged everything up, took your gloves off and set it all aside, sanitising your hands.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” John replied.

You turned around to look at him.

“Do you feel you can trust me?”

“Why?”

“Because I would like to know why you refuse medical attention, why Miranda brought you here to see me.”

John clasped his hands together, leaning his head down to run his hands over it, letting out a small breath.

You didn’t pressure him, you simply walked back over to sit in front of him once more.

“Chief?”

He looked up at you, and you gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me of you don’t want to, okay? I’m not here to force you into anything you don’t want okay? Remember this is a safe place.”

“I need to go.”

“Alright, that’s okay. If you do want to talk though just come and see me, my door is always open for you.”

He nodded his head, picked up his helmet and left, and you walked back to your desk.

You had a good idea as to why he decided to come to you instead.

After touching the object they had found, he’d glad glimpses of what you believed were memories, he’d learned he was stolen away from his family.

He wasn’t very trusting after finding out it was the very same doctor whom been with him and the pet her Spartans this whole time.

The only constant thing he had right now was you and the other Spartans, he had demanded to see your file to make sure you weren’t in on it as well, and you showed him.

You never hid anything from him.

So, if you had to guess, he was a little more trusting of you than any of the other doctors, and he felt more comfortable with you than the people who were usually poking and prodding at him after missions if he was hurt.

You had a few sessions with some of the marines, spending some times with them, talking to them and listening to their concerns or fears.

As late afternoon came around, you were walking around your office to stretch your legs, and there was a knock on your door before it opened.

“Doctor?”

You hummed, turning around, smiling at John as he came back through.

“How can I help?”

He quietly closed the door, standing to attention, hands clasped behind his back as if he were reporting to a supervisor.

“You seem to make sense of things when nobody else can. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

“Let’s take a seat and have a talk, yeah?”

He sat down, and you sat down opposite him.

He began to explain everything to you, sometimes pausing to find the right words or think about what he was saying.

He didn’t say much, and he stopped speaking to look at you.

“Do you understand what it is?” He asked.

“I do, yes. When we’re young we are taught how to handle our emotions, process them. Our parents teach us first, how to appropriately react to emotions. Does that make sense?”

John shook his head.

“Well, when I was a kid when I was angry I used to break things or throw things. My mom gave me a cup of water, but I was angry because she wouldn’t give me my favourite snack, so I threw the cup and broke it.”

John furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Over a snack?”

You laughed a little bit.

“Kids will do anything for their favourite snacks.”

You smiled at him.

“My mom put me in time out while she cleaned it up, then she came over, explained to me when I was angry I should never throw things, or hit people. When you’re angry you shouldn’t speak to people, and you should never go to bed angry.”

He slowly nodded his head.

“Our teachers continue these teachings, the grown ups in our lives help us learn about this emotions, how to handle them and how to process them. You never had that option, you had your emotions taken away from you.”

“Kai seems to be adjusting…”

“Kai is deflecting, Kai is finding things to occupy herself, but there will come a time where she will be forced to face the emotions she doesn’t know about yet. Grief, loss, pain, you’ll experience them as well.”

John raised his gaze from his hands to look at you.

“It’s hard to point which emotion it is you’re feeling, but if I had to guess I would assume perhaps anger, and confusion mixed into one.”

“What do I do? How do I make it go away?”

You gave him a sad smile.

“You can’t make them go away, you can push them down, but one day you will need to process them. There are different ways to doing this, and I can guide you, but I can’t process them for you, this needs to be something you do yourself.”

“What do I do?”

Getting up, you walked over to your desk and picked up a bit of paper, walking back over to him and you sat down next to him.

You were much smaller than he was, even sitting next to him on the couch it was clear that you were smaller than him.

You held it out to him and he took it.

“I keep this list for anybody who needs help figure out how to process their emotions. It’s a list of things that may help you. From going to the gym, writing letters, then there’s taking a step back from your current situation, go for a walk, find somewhere quiet to sit and just be you.”

“What do you do?”

“Well, I wait until the weekends, then I leave reach, and I go for a hike nearby. Around this time of year there’s my favourite place where all the flowers are in bloom, and I just sit there, sometimes I read, other times I just listening to the birds. I enjoy the escape of nature.”

John nodded his head, setting the paper down on his table.

“I decided to come here because I trust you.” He said quietly.

You smiled softly.

“Well, I’m glad you can. But Chief?”

You turned his head down to look at you.

“Next time please go to medical, it could be something serious. If you don’t like going there, you can get somebody to call for me and I’ll come with you, alright?”

“Why?”

You smiled softly at him, placing a hand on his arm, patting it a few times.

“Because you trust me, if that means I have to come to medical with you to make sure they don’t run any unnecessary tests, and make sure you’re alright I’ll do that.”

He nodded, and you got up, making your way back to your desk to put the paper away.

“Spartans were conditioned to only bond with other Spartans.” John said.

You looked over at him.

“I… don’t understand how to interact with other people.”

“That’s alright, you can learn if you want to. I’ll be going to my hike tomorrow if you would like to come along, I think it may help you.”

Taking another slip of paper, you wrote down a time and a place and walked over, handing it to him.

“I’ll be here, I’ll wait around for you, but you can find me there every weekend.”

He nodded, taking it from you and he left without another word.

The following day, just like you said, you waited for John, and he turned up a few minutes later, dressed in his work out uniform.

He usually wore it under his suit, so it made sense as to why he was wearing it now, they were most likely the only clothes he owned aside from his armour.

“How long does it take to get there?”

“Not long, we’ll need to stop to buy some water first.”

He nodded his head, following you to the shop, and you grabbed a couple of bottles of water, along with some food for lunch, paid for them and put them in your bag.

You and John made your way there, and you began walking the trail you walked every weekend.

“Doctor?”

“You can call me (Y/N), we’re not at the office. We’re friends right?”

“Friends?”

You smiled brightly.

“Well, you come by my office enough to not be friends at this point. I’ve never had somebody willingly come to my office so many times.”

He stayed quietly for a few moments, just searching around the trial.

He was looking around for threats, you knew that.

“How do I know what emotions are what?”

“Well, it depends on the person I suppose. And the emotion, take love for example, there are different kinds. Parental love, the love between a person and their parental figure, or parent and child. Then there’s plutonic love, the bond between friends, then you have romantic love, the love, the connection between two people who want to spend the rest of their their lives together.”

“How do you know the difference?”

You stopped walking, crouching down to look at some blue flowers that were blooming from the grass.

John knelt next to you to look at what you were looking at.

“Well, you have a plutonic love for the other Spartans, you’ll protect them, but just because you have to, but because they’ve essentially become your family.”

You looked up at him.

“Parental love, I’m not to sure how you’ve experienced that if you have. As a child I know you would have, and in time perhaps that’ll come back to you.”

You stood up, carrying on your walk, shifting the bag on your back and little uncomfortably.

John placed a larger hand on your shoulder, and he held his other hand out to you.

Taking the bag from your back you passed it over to him, letting him swing it over his shoulder.

“Thanks, it was getting a little heavy.” You laughed.

“Do you always bring so much?”

“Not always, but there’s two of us this time.”

“I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you.”

“Hey, come on chief, don’t say that. You’re never an inconvenience.”

John glanced at you.

“Why do you call me chief?”

“What would you prefer me to call you?”

He thought for a moment.

“I will call you (Y/N), only if you call me John.”

You smiled brightly up at him.

“Alright John.”

You carried on walking, every so often stopping to admire something and John would just stand there was stare at you.

He watched you carefully, not able to fully relax, put that sense that there was always a threat behind him.

As you reached a fork in the path, you took the one to the left, and soon enough you were surrounded by trees in full bloom, a sea of pink and white petals all over.

You walked to the middle and sit down, resting your hands behind you as you looked around.

“Why do you stop to look at everything?”

John sat in front of you, setting the bag between the pair of you.

“Well, it’s always important to take time to admire things you consider beautiful, for me, I find beauty in nature, the simple things that are all around us. I love it.”

John nodded a little.

“You never told me about romantic love. What is that like?”

“Well, again it’s different for everybody.”

“What is it for you?”

You were curious about his sudden curiosity about feelings, because the whole time since he removed his pellet he hadn’t shown much interest around them.

“John, can I ask why you’re suddenly curious?”

“Miranda says I love somebody. I don’t understand what that means.”

“Ah, I see. Well, for me it’s the little things that somebody does, what they like, the way they laugh, or the way they might make a small noise when they stretch. For me it’s about all the little things, not the big gestures. I don’t care about them, I’d take flowers over expressive dinner, walks instead of going to shows or things like that.”

John nodded his head.

He just sat there studying you, his eyes solely focused on you, watching your every move.

There was a reflection of the flowers in your eyes, and a warmth in your smile.

“How do I know if I love somebody?”

“Well, you could experience a need or want to be with this person, be next to them at all times. You’ll want to learn everything about them, it could be a tightness in your chest when you see them, a need to protect them. There’s a lot of different tells.”

“What do I do?”

You smiled.

“You could tell them, ask them on a date.”

John nodded his head, watching as you got up from where you were sat.

Walking over to one of the trees you stood under one of them, looking up through the blooming flowers.

John got up, walking after you and he stood behind you.

He watched your pointless attempt to try and reach them, there was no way you could teach them, but he could, so he reached up and took one of the flowers, giving it to you.

He enjoyed the close proximity to you, he didn’t know much about anything other than fighting, but he knew he liked having you nearby. He had an urge to keep you safe, and he liked seeing you smile.

“I love you.”

You snapped your eyes to him, head tilted back as you stared at him in pure shock.

John stared right back at you, his soft gaze focused solely on you, neither of you saying a work.

“Chief!”

He turned around, and you did the same thing, stepping from behind his larger frame.

“We have to go now.” Kai said.

John nodded his head, turning around to look at you.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please let me know you have returned home safely.”

You slowly nodded, just watching d he jogged away but you couldn’t get the thought out of your head of what he said.

Technically there was nothing wrong with anything going on between the pair of you as he wasn’t a formal patient you were simply doing a friend a favour by helping him.

You had to admit you did like his presence there, and you had wondered about if Spartans dated, held relationships and such.

You didn’t see John for a good few weeks, but the moment he was back after his debrief he made his way to your office and knocked on the door before walking in.

“Master chief?”

He frowned a little.

“I prefer it when you say my name. It sounds different when you say it.”

“Sorry John, what brings you by? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I wanted to see you.”

This made you smile, and you set down some of the books you were holding in your hands.

John walked over, he seemed to reach out for your hand but he hesitated.

“I would like to go on a date with you, but I don’t know how to do that.”

“Can I ask you something first?”

He nodded his head, and you reached out, holding his larger hand between your smaller ones.

You had to look up in order to look at him, his head turned down a little bit so he could look at you.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

You took a small breath.

“When you said you loved me did you mean it?”

“Yes. What you described is how I feel when I am around you, I want to explore this feeling, experience it with you. You see me for me, as John, not as master chief, even though you refer to me as master chief.”

You laughed softly, he enjoyed that sound.

“I’ll call you John from now on then.”

John studied you.

“Can you lean down?”

He complied, curiosity in his eyes.

Leaning forward, you pressed a very careful kiss to his cheek.

“Lets start slowly, a coffee date, get to know each other. You’re still learning about yourself, we don’t want to overwhelm you.”

He nodded his head, looking at his hands surrounded in yours, and he realised he had never known such a gentle and careful touch.

He enjoyed the different feelings he had around you, and he wanted to learn more about them, more about you

[fatbiatchforever]

Lies (Pt. 3)

You slowly opened your eyes, immediately flinching at the sunlight falling on you. A familiar, soft chuckle broke the silence, pulling your focus away from the light. Your breath caught as your gaze shifted. You whispered, “Bucky?”

He came back. Your Bucky came back. He was here, in the room you both shared, in the bed you both shared. You couldn’t move, though. Every bone in your body wanted to lunge at him, but you couldn’t move. You cried, as it was the only thing your body allowed you to do. He was so close, but you couldn’t hold him. You couldn’t wrap yourself around him so he wouldn’t leave again. And then the panic set in—

What if he leaves again?

No, you wouldn’t let that happen. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight. He had to be with you, in your bed, in his house, where he belonged. That’s where you needed him to be.

You felt him shift closer, his cold arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you securely against him. His hand tucked you gently beneath his chin as he ran his fingers through your hair, soothing the sobs that you couldn’t hold back. He whispered that he loved you, that you were safe with him. His lips brushed your forehead in a tender kiss as he whispered for you to sleep. Your eyelids grew heavier with each breath, and as he promised to stay beside his best girl, you drifted into darkness.

---

His head was pounding, and his body felt weak. He needed to find a way out, though. He had to go back no matter what. He remained silent so the people around him wouldn’t be alarmed. It reminded him of being docile and pliant again, the days when he was just someone’s asset—nothing but a machine that took orders and absorbed whatever abuse was needed to keep the human in him nonexistent.

Bucky couldn’t think clearly. He couldn’t concentrate on his surroundings, the noise only intensifying the excruciating pain. People around him were aware, the sudden increase in hushed whispers meant they were waiting for him to wake up.

He wasn’t going back to the way things were. He wouldn’t allow more innocent people to die because of his actions. He had to go back. This time, he had so much to lose. He had to get back to Y/N.

Just then, he felt someone’s presence to his right. He acted fast, grabbing the person by their neck and pushing the bed he was lying on moments ago toward the people opposite him. Bucky quickly looked around, planning his exit, until his eyes fell on you. 

His vision tunneled. He loosened his hold on the man, allowing him to scramble away. His eyes focused on your figure. His heart beat faster with each step as he walked closer to your lifeless form.

Bucky knew it was all his fault. Whatever the reason, the person he loved the most was lying unconscious, it was completely his fault. Karma, he thought. For all the times he had hurt others, the universe was finally making him pay.

Bucky’s shaky hand hovered above your bruised face. He needed to touch you so badly, maybe even shake you awake while he was at it, so he could beg you for forgiveness. He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t get himself to touch you. Touching you with his blood-covered hands would only destroy you more than he already has.

“Bucky.”

He recognized Sam’s voice. He wanted to ask him what happened, to hunt down whoever did this to you and make them regret even laying eyes on you. But seeing you in this state drained all of his energy. Bucky collapsed into the chair beside you, his head in his hands, his heart in his throat, and his brain screaming at him,

“She’s here because of me.”

---

“Bucky? You listening?”

Bucky looked away from you to look at Sam. “Yeah. I- I thought I was keeping her safe.”

Before Sam could convince him otherwise, he continued, “Anything could have happened that week. They could have kidnapped her, and that’s not even the worst they could have done.”

“Bucky, we’re trying our best to find out what the Skrulls needed from you, but you can’t spiral out of control with what could have happened. Both of you are safe right now.”

Bucky’s irritated laugh was sharp in the room. “The Skrulls were after me, but they ended up in my house, living with my wife. If she hadn’t realized it wasn’t me, God knows what could have happened.” Bucky choked up. “She’s lying there, bruised and unconscious, because she loves me. How can I live with that?”

Sam looked down, which only intensified Bucky’s guilt. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when she wakes up. I knew she loved me, but-” Bucky looked back at you, trying to find the words in you. “She put her life on the line for mine, even though I’m the reason she wasn’t safe in her own home. What if this changes everything between us? What if she never trusts me after this? What if being around me makes her feel unsafe?” Bucky’s voice wavered. “What if she leaves because she finally realized what I am and what I come with?”

“WOW.”

Bucky looked up at Sam with a tense jaw.

“Are you being serious? You think she’s going to leave you?! She knows you and everything you come with; this situation should only be more proof of that. If she hadn’t realized it wasn’t you, you wouldn’t even be sitting here contemplating whether she’s going to leave. Man, you’re so twisted in your own guilt that you don’t realize you’re insulting her by even thinking she’s going to leave. Yeah, it might take a while for her to feel completely relaxed, but that’s fair enough. She’s gone through something traumatic, and I know you’ll do whatever you have to do to make her feel safe.”

Sam paused as he noticed Bucky’s bloodshot eyes. He sighed, “Buck, I get why you feel it’s your fault, but if you keep letting it get to you, you’re going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Bucky nodded and cleared his throat. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Sam chuckled. “I know. Leave the Skrull situation to me. You concentrate on getting back to being your grumpy ass and taking care of your wife.”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. How’s Leo?”

“Between finding you and stressing about Y/N, he was the only good thing last week. I might have to keep him with me forever.”

“Hell, no,” you said weakly, your voice strained.

In an instant, Bucky’s heart felt lighter but fuller. He finally felt like he could breathe again.

---

Do you guys need a Part 4??

[happyely3]

Pairing: [Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

Genre/summury: |slice of life|- |Smut| - |fluff| -|Cuddle| - You’ve had a hard day and what you need is to pull the plug completely. Sukuna knows exactly what to do.

Word Count:

Warnings: |18+|smut|Consensual sex| Sukuna brings you to exhaustion| |All characters are of age. This story is +18| Minors don't interact|

You still couldn’t believe that you were finally back in the two-room apartment you had been sharing with Sukuna for almost three months. Yet you finally arrived, you had closed the door behind you and you threw your backpack and all your art material in the corner of the entrance, you took off your shoes and socks, You threw them into the dirty laundry basket and headed quickly to the kitchen to get something to eat. You opened the fridge and you took a dip in the cold cuts you had opened the night before, grabbing a piadina and composing it quickly, then you took the pan from the shelf above you put everything on the fire to heat that meal quickly. The hunger that had caught you was sudden and the cramps in your stomach were even more painful. "Don’t you say hello anymore?" Sukuna’s voice was a step away from you, her big hands appeared to embrace you from behind your back and her lips settled on your neck in a quick kiss that had left your skin burned at that point. You sighed at that touch, but withheld a groan. "Excuse me, Kuna, but I swear I’m starving." You answered by leaning against his broad chest and turning to kiss him on the cheek, corresponding to the tattoo that marked his jaw. Sukuna laughed slowly turning your piadina to prevent it from burning: "Was it a hard day?" He asked you then as he leaned on your back and inhaled your perfume, as if only your smell could calm him. He loved how the essence that he had given you a long time ago perfectly married to you.

"You can’t imagine. I arrived early to class and fortunately or otherwise I would have had to follow the lesson on the steps, we were too many and in addition the teacher arrived late and to complete the whole lesson made us lose half an hour lunch. The next lesson started soon after and so to not lose my seat I skipped lunch. Then the coffee machine literally left us in thirteen, abandoned us during the history of ancient art lessons! You know what a tragedy this is!" You said, sulking and making your boyfriend laugh. Sukuna has tightened himself to you and you have removed the piadina from the fire. "Then I had a review of a project, and the professor was going to take my world apart. I wanted to kill her!" You concluded by telling how your project had undergone a drastic change and that this would disrupt your exam plans and your timetable. Sukuna left you a kiss on the shoulder, reassuring you that you would still be able to get all your exams on time and if you needed help you could ask him. "You? What day did you have?" You asked while enjoying your snack, lunch, dinner. You didn’t have the strength to cook anything else and would have convinced Sukuna to get something to go. Maybe a good sushi.

"I’ve been in the lab all day, fighting with my colleagues." Sukuna replied by showing you the design of the machine for the exhibition of his mechanical engineering faculty: "Testosterone to never end." He added, making you laugh and imagine the scene in question, among all the colleagues of Sukuna there was a strange competition to be the alpha male: "Also my colleges envy us and they made me understand it in every way possible and imaginable. They still can’t figure out how I have a girlfriend." He added Sukuna by pinching your side slightly to have a bite of the piadina. "Am I in withdrawal?" You laughed by offering him that quick meal and then finishing it quickly to turn towards your boyfriend and hug him. You felt Sukuna’s hands clenching your hips and then coming down on your thighs to lift you up onto the kitchen countertop. "Kunaa!" You moaned as you tied your neck to her and Sukuna laughed hard and kissed your neck, then your jaw and finally your lips in a slow kiss full of passion that left you with an electric shock along the spine. "Please tell me you don’t have any crazy plans or studies for this evening as a program." Sukuna had detached himself from you and you protested against it. His crimson eyes were chained to yours, and your cheeks were red. You were about to answer him when his phone started ringing insistently. Sukuna grunted, hated to be interrupted on important matters. "Fuck you what?" You heard the voices of Sukuna’s colleagues on the phone telling him they had to spend a night finishing the project.

"The deadline is next week, next Friday." He had answered without too many words and raising an eyebrow. You loved it when your man took that expression angry, that expression of test to say only another bullshit and I make you swallow. You bit your lip thinking of that scene. Underneath you wanted to see him lose control and bring out that violent side he reserved only for the people he hated. "I have a life outside of you assholes." He said, emphasizing the last words with a look directed to you, too eloquent and you smiled caressing his forearm with nails at the height of tattoos. Another couple of uncute jokes and Sukuna had cut the call, putting the phone in his pants pocket. You looked at each other for a long moment and then burst into laughter when the ring of both of them was sounded again, simultaneously with your home phone. "Motherfuckers I kill." He said Sukuna, closing the phone and taking off the home phone. You took your phone and looked at the number of one of his colleagues, you looked at each other and answered the call. "Hi, Sukuna is with me, we are busy at the moment." You answered by continuing to stare at your boyfriend and enjoying the smile that was forming on his lips. Sukuna loved it when you played the flirtatious and sweet girlfriend in front of her colleagues, she could feel their frustration at that very moment when your voice became more seductive and sexy when you said her name. How much they could be at that moment.

"No, the deadline is Friday, you have also put the image as profile whatsapp of the group." You insisted with a fluffy voice, Sukuna came to bite you in the neck and you let slip a sigh that could not be misconstrued. "Sorry but we have to go and discuss." You said finally closing the call and pulling slightly Sukuna’s hair. "What else did they want?" asked Sukuna taking both your phones and putting them in airplane mode. "Nothing important, they said they wanted to kill you because you couldn’t give them up for the project for me." You answered by kissing the tip of his nose and grinning: "They also added things that are not very nice and very disgraceful." And the look of Sukuna filled with pleasure. "Fuck you, you’re my priority, baby doll." Sukuna picked you up and you held him like a koala, kissed you more than before and you scratched his neck muscles to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed, but it was a fight that you knew you couldn’t win. You have made your way without wasting time into your bedroom. The windows were down and the only lamp on was the one that recreated the sunset light, the one you had insisted on since you saw it in an Instagram video. Sukuna didn’t waste any time, she kicked the door shut and put you on the bed, you closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of clean sheets on your skin and opened them again when you heard the notes of the playlist that you and Sukuna had created for home.

You smiled for that moment. It was just you, the rest of the world didn’t exist. Sukuna was at the foot of the mattress and looked at you with his naked eyes. His shirt lay at the foot of the bed and the soft orange light highlighted his muscles and tattoos, you watched carefully the ink segments descend down her abdomen to the V of the groin and you licked your lips while with your fingers slowly caressing your boyfriend’s sculpted abs. You got up and knelt on the edge of your bed while Sukuna unlaced the buttons of your overalls and slowly started to strip you, you bent your back to help him get undressed and in the meantime you unlaced his pants belt. When your clothes are all over you have come even closer to Sukuna and keeping the gaze fixed on him you had dropped the zip of his jeans taking it with your mouth. You had, then, left a quick kiss on the bulge of his black boxer making him sigh and laugh with that smile that made you so crazy and shivering between your legs. "What a diligent girl we have here." she said, caressing your cheek and playing with your softness. You leaned on his hand groping and closed your eyes sighing: "I have a boy who devotes a lot of attention to me, it is right that I be diligent with him." You were left with only the white sweater and matching lace panties, hair strewn on the mattress and Sukuna above you, you could feel the warmth of her skin and its intoxicating scent flooding your nostrils, you squeezed it to yourself to continue enjoying that heat. His gaze set you on fire and his touch amplified all your senses.

You kissed with a new fire, seeking your tongues and fighting until the last breath before detaching again and looking hard. In those moments you loved even more the eye tattoos that your boyfriend had made on his cheekbones. Four eyes that only looked at you. Four red eyes that hypnotised you more and more and warmed your core in a way you couldn’t explain. "No bra on?" Sukuna asked, lifting up the crop top you wore that day in a rush to run to university and letting your breasts bounce free and not forced into that cramped garment, out of the room air. "With this shirt I risk not breathing as tight… Kunaaa…" You sighed when her rough hands leaned over your breast and began massaging it, slowly and in circular motions. You felt spoiled for those attentions. You were very large and often the bras you wore hurt, crushed your breasts and left deep marks on your skin. Quite a few times Sukuna had taken you by the shoulders and with the appropriate creams he had massaged your breasts to give you some comfort. "What a brat." said the man while lightly blowing on his nipples making them harden even more and sighing you. You instinctively spread your legs to feel his presence better, but his boxers and your panties did not help. You felt that bulge and wanted it inside you to forget all the stressful day you had.

A day you would have gladly replaced with one in which Sukuna was inside of you, filling you up completely. You scratched Sukuna’s shoulders when his mouth settled on your nipple starting to suck it while the other hand took to play with the other, and then you were the brat. Sukuna was like a hungry child at that time. The background music was so intense that you were stunned by all that attention, because every song you had chosen was perfect for sex and you both knew it. You tried to move but your boyfriend stopped you, with his left arm and went down to your core to start stimulating it from the outside, doing a simple movement over the panties. Up and down, middle and forefinger moved slowly pressing a little more when they were close to your clitoris and making you sigh loudly while Sukuna’s mouth was busy sucking hard on your martoriated nipple. You scratched his neck when you felt his fingers apply more pressure on your opening just to tease it a little bit and you bent your back a little bit more until the sudden orgasm hit you as Sukuna touched your clit again. You screamed loudly, arching your back and poking your feet on the mattress, quickly being invaded by that euphoric sensation typical of orgasm, you felt your body light and tense at the same time and then collapse on the mattress. The arms of Sukuna held you and now they lulled you. "I didn’t think you were so involved, brat." Sukuna broke off your nipple leaving only a trickle of saliva as the only link. You sighed again when his two big fingers moved on the soaked cloth and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"I had a heavy day Sukuna…" You replied by taking his face in your hands and then kissing him on the Adam’s apple. Sukuna has embraced you, wrapping her free arm around your hips and enjoying the flickering of your body against hers, savoring every inch of your two curves and your toned physique in contact with hers. He missed you during the heavy day that he had had during group work and the only thing he could think of was to come home, pick you up and make love with you all night and the next morning, excluding the world around. "Let’s make this day better." He sighed near your ear and made you string like a violin string. You bit your lip as you slightly moved away from Sukuna and with your hands you went down his tense muscles, massaging them with your fingertips to then go down to his boxers. You kissed the muscles of his groin and with a calm that you didn’t know you had, you slowly took off his last clothes letting out his cock. It was hard, harder than marble and with veins in evidence and great. He needed care and attention you thought as you licked your lips and laid a light kiss on the dark chapel. "You’re playing dirty…" Sukuna had lifted your hair and held it in his grip. You smiled at that joke and kept on leaving wet kisses all along its length, focusing more on some points and biting the most sensitive ones just to hear your boyfriend’s moaning. Sukuna’s grip had become stronger on your hair as the free hand began to caress your back.

"What a good little bratt…" You felt as if Sukuna was tense and holding on to make the pleasure even longer and unload away the tension that had settled on both your bodies in that stressful day. You were sweaty and both warmed up and soon your condition would get worse. You took it all in one shot, risking to hurt yourself and but you were rewarded by the moan of pure pleasure that came out of your boyfriend’s mouth when you slammed his groin on the tip of your nose. You breathed its strong smell and with tears in your eyes you started moving at an average fast pace as you felt the muscles of Sukuna stiffening and the grip of your boyfriend becoming even stronger. Sukuna looked down at you, he watched his girlfriend crouching on the bed trying to give him pleasure and had not resisted any longer. He had blocked you and then lifted you slightly protesting that you were having fun and he laughed softly before kissing you again and taking you under him. You ended up on the opposite side of the bed and screamed when Sukuna quickly took off your panties and threw them across the room and then started licking your pussy greedily.

"So wet just for me…" And you cried out with pleasure when the tongue of Sukuna crept into you, softening your inner walls. "Ryo…" You whimpered as you felt the grip of his hands getting stronger on your thighs, leaving you with red marks. Sukuna didn’t leave you time to recover, he wanted to make a mess even more inviting, he wanted to eat you and drink every single drop of you. One of his hands has been clenching around one of your nipples while the other kept firmly clutching your thigh. Sukuna’s eyes were focused on your pussy along with her tongue, but the tattooed eyes were fixed on you. You knew they were fake, but it was as if Sukuna knew exactly what to do because he had that look on you and you couldn’t resist any longer when you felt two of his fingers creep inside you while his tongue continued to give you pleasure. You came abundantly on her mouth as Sukuna drank you avidly and continued to curl her fingers inside of you to give you even more pleasure and to look for that point that made you crazy. You tried to stop him, ask for a truce by pulling his pink hair but your boyfriend had not moved, he was enjoying the best meal that could happen. "Ryomen… Ryo… Ryo…" You called his name when his fingers met the point he was looking for, the one that made you jump forward and almost jump on the spot when Sukuna hit him several times in a row and at that moment you saw the stars.

The orgasm that took you made you tremble all, the scream of pleasure stuck in your throat and tears came down your cheeks for that stimulation so strong, into your soul deeper and fell on the mattress, Gasping and trying to inhale as much oxygen as possible to try to recover. Sukuna was still close to your core, eyes full of lust and satisfaction, with a note of malice that made you inspire even more deeply. You have pulled Sukuna towards you, in an even more fiery kiss and felt your taste on her lips, on her tongue. You have changed position, in the middle of the bed, you under him and Sukuna who overlaid you with all his beautiful and perfect carved head. And then you felt it enter inside of you, despite the long preparation you had to take it all. You held him tight and Sukuna lifted you slightly, harpooning your butt, to enter with ease. Centimeter by centimeter has entered inside you and for a moment you felt like you were going to faint because of the pleasure that you felt inside you. "Ryo…" you sighed, scratching his shoulders and biting his ear lobe. You heard him tremble and sighing in the hollow of your neck and then bite it hard and make you scream with pleasure as he started pumping his length inside you. You pointed your feet and moved your pelvis to try to respond to his movements, but your legs were soft and every time Sukuna sank inside of you it hit that damned point that made you go into ecstasy.

Sukuna bit his lip to keep his focus and you bit his neck to distract him and then kissed each other moaning in the other’s mouth. You kept on in that pose for a while until you felt a hankering getting closer and closer and you got close to Sukuna so as not to lose your balance. Sukuna kissed you praising your body as it kept moving inside of you, riding your orgasm slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls holding it so tight. You changed positions while you exchanged another kiss, now you were above him and dictated the rhythm to yourself, still feeling the thrill of the previous moment descend down your spine. You put your hands on his pecs and touched his nipples quickly, while Sukuna approached yours to suck both of them, his hands were resting at the base of your back and holding you so close to him that it created a tight rhythm, Fast and needy and muffled every time your crotch met and joined together. Your breath was irregular, and you closed your eyes many times to try to resist and not faint. It was so hard and tense that you still wondered how you had managed to take it so well and how he could still resist, you had seen his pre-season liquid by the way and it was so abundant that you waited anxiously for the moment when it would pour out inside you.

You have swung in bed once again, ruining the blankets and dropping the pillows. You were on your stomach and Sukuna was penetrating behind you, holding your arms steady behind your back with one of his hands, while the other had harpooned your buttocks to find a firm grip as it pushed into you. You felt your walls tighten tighter and tighter every time her cock came in and out of you, and Sukuna knew how to tease you by staying out for a few seconds before coming back in harder and starting to constantly hit your center. "Ryo… inside…" You said feeling the limit getting closer and closer, you were close to the fourth orgasm of that night and Sukuna’s movements had become increasingly confused and ferocious. "How you want, little bratt… ah…" Sukuna has stooped down upon you, using his hand to harpoon your side and not to depart from you. Your shadows on the wall evoked the image of two animals that were mating and it was that common thought that gave you the coup de grace. You felt Sukuna explode inside of you, pouring out copiously and pushing deeper while you kept following its rhythm and crying as hard as you came.

You felt Sukuna explode inside of you, pouring copiously and pushing deeper while you kept following its rhythm and crying as hard as you came. You squatted on the mattress, your breaths were tight but neither of you wanted to detach from the other. "You want to do another lap, you little brat." The roaring voice of Sukuna had made you partly recover, you still felt it hard inside you, despite he kept coming and pouring his semen into your womb. Your eyes were full of tears, your body was aching with pleasure, but you nodded and felt the grip on your hands become less strong. Sukuna was towering over you, his hands were holding your hips and his pelvis dictating a rhythm. "Ryo… please… do… do…" You tried to say something but the bite that came on your neck made you moan loudly, your voice outweighed the notes of the speakers as much as that gesture was unexpected. You felt his fangs sink into your flesh and his thrusts become stronger. You have tightened the blankets to try to resist all that sudden pleasure and felt it again coming inside you, even stronger than before. "What’s he doing, baby?" she asked you while licking the mark of her teeth while with well-placed lunges she kept stimulating your pussy. "It’s good…" You answered by turning to kiss him. "And then it will make you feel even better." Her hand had descended into your intimacy, rubbing against your clitoris and beginning to stimulate it again. You were too sensitive and your orgasm was so strong that you saw the stars at that moment. And you hadn’t finished yet.

"I can’t feel my legs Kuna." You said as you tried to get up, but you gave up right after. Your legs seemed to be made of jelly and your sex was pulsating painfully. Sukuna was beside you and stroked your back, smiling at those words. "I did a good job." Your boyfriend said, leaving you with a kiss on the shoulder and grinning. But he couldn’t get up in that moment, still buried inside you, he would never leave that place for any reason. "Mmmhh…" You tried to say something, but the tiredness was getting felt. "Yeah, let’s order some sushi and watch it on TV." Sukuna answered by caressing your back and reluctantly leaving to take the phone and order to go. "You’re the best." You said by kissing his hand and standing up slowly in turn to go to the bathroom next to your room and preparing the necessary for a shower. You’ve been stuck to the many notifications of missed messages and calls to burst out laughing. Sukuna took you for life and brought you back to bed, kissing you until you lost control again. You then heard the phone snap and turned your eyes to the camera, in the photo that captured you hugging each other in that obscene kiss. You couldn’t see any part of your body, you could just see something that left room for imagination. "What are you doing?" you asked, playing with his lip and sucking it slowly. "I send her to my study group to make them keep quiet." Your boyfriend said kissing you again. "You should send one more obscene." You answered by making him laugh and curl up over you.

"I infected you." He said whispering those words in your ear. "Maybe yes…" You answered looking straight into his eyes and smiling back, a smile full of all that you felt for him. "Honey?" Sukuna never used those affectionate names with you, he always used something that taunted you. "Yes Kuna?" You answered by taking his face in your hands and staring into his eyes. "I love you." He never said those words to you before and your heart filled with happiness. "I love you too." You replied kissing him with a flurry and holding yourself tight to him.

[nerdflayer]

This is my opinion on why I believe the GA doesn’t see Byler.

Before I begin, I just want to say I’ve been a Byler fan since Season 1. Season 2 cemented my feelings about them. Season 3 crushed my soul. And season 4 at first watch made me feel pessimistic but eventually optimistic. As a gay boy myself I can’t help but see the whole show through Will eyes (he is me) and can’t help but fall in love with Mike. I mean he did so much for Will in the beginning, how could you not love Mike for that.

The relationship between the boys really does take a turn for the worse coming off S2 into S3 because Mikes character kind of does a 180 in terms of Bylers relationship.

Anyway. Talking about S4, we see A LOT of the CA plot line from Wills perspective. And I think this is key to people not seeing Byler. Wills feelings are made very clear. He’s depressed, traumatized, he doesn’t fit in, he is well aware of his homosexuality which brings stress and suffering and the tremendous disappointment that he has in Mikes character, yet he can’t help but love regardless. With that said, Wills POV is bleak, and coming off the back of S3 it’s easier and, I would say necessary, for his character to believe that Mike doesn’t love him. The pain of letting yourself believe they do love you only to be rejected, is very hurtful. And I don’t think that boy can handle more pain so it’s safer for him to deny the hope. Will even says “I’m not going to fall in love.”

Mikes actions also play into this. Will does not see Mikes love for him. He can’t hug him, is dismissive, he argues and blames Will at Rink O Mania, he wrote to El but didn’t seam to call Will, makes the whole trip about El, isn’t attentive to Will at all, and even when Mike apologizes for obsessing over El- every one of their conversations is still about her. Again this is Wills POV. I will say Mike does give him hints and mix messages for romantics feelings but like I said, how is Will suppose to trust? Is Will just reading into the flirting because he wants it so badly? It needs to be direct otherwise Will and the GA won’t see it or believe it.

Obviously there are a lot of hints for Byler, and I believe 100% it will happen. I’m choosing to trust the hope even though Will isn’t able to.

My point is I think Wills painful POV cannot be underestimated even if straight viewers dont like Will you can’t deny how powerful it is. Will literally helped Mike say I love you to El because he doesn’t have hope for himself. I think straight viewers use his hopeless as evidence for why Mike and El will end up together. It’s interesting that you hate Will but Will plays a role in convincing you of Milevens endgame. What they don’t understand, other than all the Byler evidence, is that Will is wrong! Mike does have romantic feelings for him and Mike will get there! Because Mike doesn’t need to find himself he needs to return to the person he’s always been. He showed us who he is and it’s the person he was in S1 & S2 and we see it when he’s with Will!

[anto-pops]

The Promise of Tomorrow - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: “As utterly ravishing as you are in that dress,” he whispered against your lips in-between kisses, “I can’t deny that I would much rather see it on the floor.”

A laugh bubbled past your lips despite yourself, and you let your palms trail down Sebastian’s sides until you reached his waist. You hooked your fingers through his belt loops, tugging his lower half flush against you, and his hands fell away from your face to brace against the wall behind you, effectively caging you between him and the cobblestone at your back. “Have some things planned, do you?” 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sebastian attending the Yule Ball together before he whisks you away to the Room of Requirement to do exactly what you might think.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, Garreth wearing Aunt Tessie's robes

This was HEAVILY inspired by @sallowly 's Yule Ball animation which can be found here ! The dress/Sebastian's suit are directly referenced from her work. I'm eternally grateful for being given the chance to build off of her creation ♡

The full fic can also be found here on Ao3 as per usual

“What in Merlin’s name are you wearing?” 

Sebastian gaped openly at Garreth, internally fighting the laugh that threatened to spill forth from his mouth despite his best efforts to smother it. The Gryffindor was decked out in quite possibly the most atrocious set of dress robes he’d ever seen, and judging by the look on the red-head’s face, he knew it too. It was frilly and lined with lace, and the material looked like a curtain that had been snagged off a window and stitched into something resembling clothes. 

Garreth’s face contorted into a pained expression, chancing a look down at himself and curling his hands into loose fists. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I’m sure you don’t,” Sebastian remarked, lifting his glass to his lips in a bid to hide his growing smile. “Can I guess? Please let me guess–”

“No,” came his flat reply. 

“What is it?” Ominis asked curiously, turning away from the long table of finger foods to join in the conversation. Unlike Weasley, he looked like the epitome of poised finesse in his dark, tailored suit. “Whatever it is, it smells old.” 

“Oh, it looks old too. Seriously, where on Earth did you find such an antique?” Sebastian teased, and Garreth’s eyes made a full trip around their sockets before he waved off the jab. 

“Ha ha, very funny. If you must know, these have been in the Weasley family for years–” 

“Clearly.” 

“Oh would you shut up? I get it, believe me, I know. My mother wouldn’t let me get away with not wearing them though, she kept pestering me about ‘tradition’ and a bunch of other pointless nonsense. I was fighting a losing battle trying to convince her otherwise.” 

Ominis chuckled softly under his breath and twirled his wand idly between his fingers, “And you didn’t think to just change into something more fitting of the nineteenth century because…” he trailed off, the question hanging silently in the air. 

Garreth grumpily shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned, looking over his shoulder towards the massive entryway leading into the Great Hall. Professor Weasley was standing watch, ushering students in with practiced ease, and when she caught sight of her nephew staring, her smile was enough to give away precisely why the Gryffindor had been forced to endure his family's horrendous dress code. “My aunt would rat me out in a second if I did. Look, can we just forget about the hideous outfit already? I need a drink.” 

Sebastian had half a mind to offer Garreth the stolen flask of Firewhiskey tucked away in his suit, but he was honestly more inclined to save it for himself. Unbeknownst to his friends, he was wound tighter than a spring, the anticipation coursing through his veins causing him to shake his leg to dispel the nervous jitters he’d been dealing with since arriving. While he’d gone on plenty of dates with you in the last few years, this would be the first time the two of you attended something so formal as a couple. Asking you to the Yule Ball had nearly put him in the ground with how anxious he’d been– but attending the dance together was a completely different story. 

He wanted the night to go perfectly. 

His expectations were driving him up the damn wall. If there was one thing Sebastian hated more than anything, it was surprises, and that’s exactly what tonight was. One giant, looming unknown that had him thinking circles around himself. Dancing wasn’t the issue– he was great at that. It wasn’t even the hundreds of prying eyes that would be glued to you both when you eventually arrived, because he was more than used to the attention that came with dating the Hero of Hogwarts. 

No, Sebastian was simply nervous to finally put his long awaited plan into action. 

Everything was already set up in the Room of Requirement for later, so all he had to do was make it through the bulk of the evening without combusting or making a fool of himself. He could do that… right?

“Your nerves are showing, Sebastian,” Garreth teased as he leaned over the endless selection of food and drinks. His green eyes were crinkled in amusement as he observed the nonstop tapping of the brunet’s foot, and Ominis hummed in agreement. 

“I’ve been listening to him fidget for the last twenty minutes. I don’t know why girls take so long to get ready– I’m tempted to go and find his date so he’ll finally relax.”

Garreth laughed, and in the split second following, Sebastian saw his eyes land on something over his shoulder and widen comically. “No need for that… damn.” 

Nothing could have prepared Sebastian for the sight that graced him when he turned around. 

There you were, looking equal parts ethereal and powerful. Your dress was like nothing he had ever seen before; it was the darkest, most striking shade of black, rippling around your legs as though it were made of liquid as you strode through the arched doorway with your head held high. Embroidered down the side and along the strapless neckline were tiny gold leaves that reflected against the candles floating overhead, giving you a regal appearance that put even Ominis to shame. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Sebastian swore that as you walked further into the room, some of the leaves from your dress trailed behind you and dissipated into shimmering dust. 

You twisted your hands together nervously as your eyes scanned the massive crowd, searching for the one person who could make existing in such an overwhelming environment bearable. Sebastian’s legs started to move of their own accord, carrying him away from the table and closer to you at the same time your neck swiveled in his direction, and the way your entire face lit up when you spotted him imbued him with the confidence that he’d been lacking minutes prior. 

Everything else was muted during those tentative seconds it took him to reach you, and once he came to stop in front of you with his drink still loosely gripped in his hand, it was as if no one else existed within the cavernous ballroom– only the two of you. For a moment, all he could do was stare with his mouth hanging open like a fish. The flush that spread across your cheeks had his heart doing acrobatics in his chest, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat before setting his glass down on an empty platter floating by. 

“Hi,” you said meekly, flashing him an easy smile in an attempt to conceal your timorous demeanor. He didn’t need to know that you’d spent five minutes outside with Poppy talking you off the metaphorical ledge and fanning you frantically with her hands. 

“Hey,” he replied, instantly cringing at the dry greeting. He quickly added, “I don’t think words can do you justice, if I’m being honest. You look otherworldly, darling.”

Sebastian’s words did wonders to school your nerves, a wave of warmth settling over you like a blanket. The soft smile that spread across your plush lips made his heart flip in his chest, and when he held out his hand for you to take, the tension in your shoulders slipped away. “Thank you, you look rather dashing yourself. Green continues to be your color,” you mused as your palm met his upturned one, intertwining your fingers through his longer ones easily. 

He steered you into the room, heading for Ominis and Garreth again to give you time to get settled before the dancing started. When your eyes fell on Weasley, Sebastian watched as your brows shot halfway up your forehead, and he could hear the laughter in your voice when you asked, “Oh gods, what is he wearing?” 

“Don’t bring it up. Something about ‘tradition’ I think, but he’s well aware that he looks like a decorative rug.” 

You had to hide your smirk behind your free hand as you approached the two men. Garreth’s grin was blinding as he raised his glass to you in silent greeting, and Ominis must have heard you walking up, because he turned fully to face you with his kind eyes crinkled at their corners. 

“I obviously can’t say for certain, but if Sebastian’s inability to form words when you walked in was anything to go by, you must look beautiful.” The blond had a tiny Cauldron Cake pinched between his skinny fingers, and he popped it into his mouth without a second thought as a blush crept up your cheeks. 

“Thank you, Ominis, you do too.”

“I look beautiful?” He mumbled around his mouthful, and the sound of his muffled teasing contrasting with his neat appearance made you chuckle. 

You swatted his shoulder playfully and shook your head, “You know what I mean.” When your gaze shifted to Garreth, he seemed to hold his breath expectantly. “You too, Garreth. Pink looks good on you.”

The red-head rolled his eyes playfully, but he was still grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told that lying gives you wrinkles, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

He lifted his glass to his lips at the same time the enchanted orchestra in the corner ceased playing. Hundreds of heads swiveled towards the front of the room as Professor Black made his way to the podium, looking all too irritated to have to entertain students during the weekend instead of… actually, you had no clue what Professor Black did in his spare time. 

Probably kick Puffskeins and style his mustache. 

“Welcome all, to this year’s Yule Ball. I see the festivities are in full swing already, but I’d like to remind everyone that standard school rules are still meant to be followed even on a night such as this one. That means no floozy behavior, no consumption of beverages not otherwise provided for you, and for the love of Merlin– no smoking of Mallowsweet in school corridors. That has become a rampant issue that I would prefer to not have to deal with on top of everything else.” 

As the Headmaster continued monologuing, you managed to tune out the remainder of his warnings in favor of ogling Sebastian. Your hands were still intertwined, and he had tugged you closer to him so your arms were brushing against one another in his subtle attempts to get closer to you. He really did look striking in his dark green suit; it was the first time you’d been privy to seeing him so dressed up, and you bit your lip hungrily as potent, lustful thoughts filled your mind. It wasn’t until the room was full of thunderous applause that you realized the introductions were finished and your boyfriend was side-eyeing you as you blatantly stared at him. 

“Something on your mind?” He whispered the question directly against your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making your toes curl in your heels. 

Your hand in his tightened a fraction, and you cocked a brow slyly as your lips curled into a feline smile. “A few things, yes.” 

“Anything I’d like to know about?” 

“I’m sure you would, but there’s a time and a place. Don’t they say patience is a virtue?”

Sebastian hummed, trailing his thumb sensually along your knuckles as he smirked wickedly against your temple. “I find it to be more of a nuisance, but I suppose it would be a waste not to make the most of you in that dress. Would you care to dance?”

The Slytherin’s heart damn near hammered straight out of his sternum when you turned to stare affectionately up at him, the mixture of your love and desire so palpable in the air that he swore he could cut through it with a Diffindo charm. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

—

You didn’t think you’d ever felt so weightless in your life. 

Sebastian’s hand clasped in yours was like an anchor, keeping you grounded to the present moment as he tugged you along behind him up the winding staircase leading to the Astronomy Wing. He was moving fast– clearly eager to show you the ‘surprise’ he had waiting for you there– but he had the good grace to stay mindful of your dress and your inability to move as quickly as he could. The two of you had been sneakily stealing sips of his Firewhiskey throughout the night, so the faint buzz you had going was enough to make you slow down and consider every movement carefully as you ascended the steps. 

When you reached the top landing, the brunet’s neck craned sideways to cast an exhilarated look your way, his excitement a tangible entity that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. All through the night, Sebastian’s eyes and hands had been stealing telling glances and coy touches as he twirled you across the ballroom. You knew there had been hundreds of eyes on you at one point; the charmed, gold leaves around the lower lining of your gown had fallen away in trails of sunset colored sparkles that were bound to draw attention as you’d danced. But none of it had mattered– not with Sebastian gazing longingly at you like you were the only thing that existed. 

He was doing so now, and you found yourself burying your general dislike of surprises for the sake of the evening. Anything Sebastian had planned for you was something you were sure to love, you were already certain of it.

When the two of you reached the empty wall across from the familiar troll tapestry, Sebastian swiftly pulled you ahead of him and spun you around– more shimmering leaves wisping off of your dress as your back made contact with the cool stone behind it. You barely had time to register the brazen move before your boyfriend’s lips connected with yours, and then his broad hands were sliding up your neck to cup your face and tilt your head back to deepen the kiss impossibly further. He swallowed your startled gasp instantaneously, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones so tenderly that it made your heart fucking ache. 

 Merlin– sometimes your love for Sebastian overwhelmed you. 

“As utterly ravishing as you are in that dress,” he whispered against your lips in-between kisses, “I can’t deny that I would much rather see it on the floor.”

A laugh bubbled past your lips despite yourself, and you let your palms trail down Sebastian’s sides until you reached his waist. You hooked your fingers through his belt loops, tugging his lower half flush against you, and his hands fell away from your face to brace against the wall behind you, effectively caging you between him and the cobblestone at your back. “Have some things planned, do you?” 

“Of course,” he replied with that renowned Sallow-swagger that made you melt. “But not before you get to appreciate all of my hard work.”

You hummed thoughtfully as you leaned forward to kiss him again, breathing in his intoxicating scent of cedar and something akin to old books. His tongue slipped in your mouth easily, tangling with your own so fluidly that you suddenly found yourself all too eager to discover what he had in store for you. Sebastian let you drink in your fill of him, groaning softly when you shifted your hips to grind lazily against his steadily growing erection, and then he was pulling back with a heated look in his eyes. 

“Riveting as this is, I don’t feel particularly keen on taking you in the middle of the hallway.”

On cue, you felt the wall against your back begin to change. The cool stone morphed into smooth wood, and the massive entryway to the Room of Requirement revealed itself as Sebastian seemingly gazed into your very soul. “No public canoodling? Your surprise must be quite something, then.” 

For the first time since finding him in the Great Hall, Sebastian looked nervous. He stepped back and rubbed his neck sheepishly, giving you a half-grin that you could have honestly mistaken for a grimace. “I certainly hope so… come on.” 

He extended his hand once again and you took it graciously, moving off the door to make room for him to push it open. The brunet ushered you in, letting you enter ahead of him, and you barely made it three steps inside before you were halting completely. Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in silent shock as you took in the magical sight before you. 

The Room was full of floating candles like the ones in the Great Hall, only these ones flickered with deep blue flames that seemed to cast the space in what you could only describe as pure moonlight. The ambiance had been changed as well, working in tandem with the romantic lighting so flawlessly that you were certain you had to be staring at a painting. You made a mental note to remember to thank Deek for his evident assistance. Bright red petals had been strewn across the floor, paving a rather telling path towards the slightly ajar bedroom door on the opposite side of the chamber. What was inside, you didn’t know– but the contrasting red glow from within had your mind flooding with unrestrained fantasies that made your stomach flip. 

Your legs carried you deeper into the room as you took in every unique change to your secret space, and all the while, Sebastian watched you virtually glide across the floor. The enchanted leaves running down your dress added a new degree of magic to the whole scene; the trail of gold flakes that evaporated into sparkling dust made you look like some sort of enchantress that had snuck onto the school grounds, and he found himself following you across the petals towards the bedroom in a trance. 

Sebastian had seriously outdone himself. You had no words. 

Pushing the door open revealed more floating candles– the normal colored ones– and an amorous display that made your breath catch in your throat. He’d replaced the usual bed linens with silky, red sheets that reflected the candlelight beautifully. You spotted a bottle of wine perched between two glasses on the nightstand, and situated behind it all was a fresh bouquet of roses that left a distinctly floral scent in the air. 

A large part of you wanted to cry from the affection that flooded your brain, but you willed away the urge in favor of turning around to face Sebastian. 

He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed– a hungry, almost insatiable look spreading across his features. Those lust-dark eyes of his were scanning you up and down like you were a whole meal, and given the set-up in the room, you were willing to wager a guess that his mentality was exactly that. The warm lighting in the bedroom bathed him in a seductive glow, and as handsome as he looked in his suit, you suddenly wanted him out of it. Pronto. 

“You’re speechless,” he observed, sounding almost timid as he spoke the words. 

“That’s a word for it.” 

“Good speechless or bad speechless?” 

You gave him a nonplussed blink before your brows slammed down, “Why in Merlin’s name would it be bad speechless?” 

Your ability to read Sebastian like a damn book allowed you to see the cracks in his confident facade as he dug the toe of his shoe into the stone floor. He shrugged, “I’m not sure. Maybe because I snuck in here and changed everything around. Although Deek did help some, so I guess I’m not solely to blame.” 

There were no thoughts in your head other than the rapacious desire to be close to him, and your heels echoed off the bedroom walls as you strode over to him in the doorway to yank him down to your level. You all but slammed your mouths together, stealing his breath with the intensity of your ministrations, and the action left little room for doubt. Sebastian returned the kiss with equal fervor, winding his arms around you to crush you against his front as you bit and licked at his soft, freckled lips. 

“You ought to stoke that confidence some more, because this is quite possibly the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me.” Your praises did wonders to soothe his frayed nerves, seeing as you felt him relax under your touch as you sensually dragged your hands up to grip his strong shoulders. 

He chuckled proudly, pulling away to stare anticipatorily down at you with a smug look on his face. That was an expression you were all too familiar with. “You should know that where you’re concerned, I’m a split-second confidence kind of guy. The things you do to me and you don’t even know it…” he trailed off in a gravelly voice, and you shivered as you felt his palms begin skirting down your lower back to play with the zipper of your gown. 

“Oh really?” Your voice was airy, and your fingers dug into the smooth material of his blazer as you worked to maintain your composure. “Care to enlighten me?” 

Sebastian tilted his head to the side curiously before leaning down to brush a tiny kiss over the tip of your nose, “I’d much rather show you. What do you say? You want to let me take care of you, darling?” 

Your breath caught in your throat, rendering your tongue a useless paperweight in your mouth as it failed to form words, so you nodded excitedly instead and noted how Sebastian growled in response. Any awkwardness or uncertainty fell away when he claimed your lips again in a wet, needy frenzy, swallowing your surprised mewl as he walked you backwards towards the spacious bed. You felt his fingers return to your zipper and gently tug it down as the backs of your knees made contact with the mattress, and his hand on your hip kept you steady as his arm dropped ever-so-slightly to part the fabric of your dress. The velvety attire slipped down your body and pooled around your ankles instantly– a plume of gold sparkles erupting from it as it hit the floor. 

Sebastian broke the kiss to look down at you, his long, dark lashes fanning out across his cheeks as he took in your nearly bare form from head to toe. You followed the tight bob of his adam’s apple as his chocolate brown eyes roved over your breasts before they returned to your face, and then he was gingerly pushing you down onto the bed. 

As you scooted higher up the sheets, Sebastian’s gaze stayed glued to you while he shed his jacket, tossing it haphazardly to the side so he could begin undoing the buttons of his shirt. You watched him unblinkingly as he undressed– shamelessly licking your lips when his top fell open and revealed the taut plane of his stomach— and the fuzzy trail of hair leading beneath his trousers had your knees clenching together in anticipation. With his button-up discarded, all that remained were the pants, and he elected to take his time undoing his belt with calculated movements as his eyes bored into yours. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he admitted, and the metal clink of the buckle falling away punctuated the statement. “Gods– I was ready to leave the second you walked in, you have no fucking idea.” 

You shuddered from the intensity of his words, boldly dragging one of your hands down between your legs to feel the wetness that had begun to saturate your undergarments. The sight of you touching yourself sent Sebastian into overdrive– and he wasted little time in shoving his trousers down and kicking them aside so he was donned in nothing but his briefs. His arousal was straining against the thin cotton– so much so that it had to be bordering on painful– but he made no signs of discomfort as he seductively started to crawl up the bed towards you. 

As soon as Sebastian was within reach, you abandoned your soaked nether region to curl your fingers around his neck and pull him towards you, kissing him desperately. You ran your hands down his freckled chest, then wrapped your arms around his midsection to ghost the tips of your fingers along his spine. The shiver it elicited from him had heat pooling in your gut, and your need for him started to shift into something even more ravenous. 

Sebastian dropped himself down onto his elbows to minimize the space between the two of you as your tongues tangled, and as he settled his lower half against yours, he ground his straining member against your clothed cunt. He groaned unabashedly, the sound low in his throat, and your lips took to wandering along his jaw, down his throat, before settling against the curve of his shoulder to sink your teeth into the soft flesh. 

“Fuck– I can feel how wet you are already. How badly do you want it? Tell me,” he implored you, his eyes fluttering shut when you laved your tongue over the light imprint of your teeth. “Talk to me, darling, please.” 

Merlin, his voice alone was doing things to you that rendered your vocal chords useless. You tried speaking anyway. “P-Please,” you rasped out against his spit-slick skin. “Please Sebastian, I need you– I’ve needed you all night–” 

“All night, huh? What exactly were you thinking about while we were on the dance floor, hm? What filthy thoughts are swimming around in that pretty little head of yours?” 

The way Sebastian was rutting against you– tempting you with every snap of his hips– was driving you absolutely crazy with lust, and your head fell away from his shoulder against the sheets with a low moan as your nails raked down his sides. To your dismay, however, he ceased his movements to sit up and plant his hands on your wiggling hips, pinning you down in place. His toned arms flexed as he applied a fair amount of pressure in a bid to still your writhing against the silky covers, and you bit your lip in blatant frustration, narrowing your eyes dangerously. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I asked you a question. Tell me what you want– what you’ve apparently been craving all night. You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

Leave it to Sebastian to still find a way to make you beg for his cock. The nerve. You scowled up at him, “You’re really going to make me say it?” 

He had the audacity to laugh at your impatience. “I would make you scream it if I wasn’t trying so hard to be nice.” 

You had half a mind to taunt him further and clarify that really– this was him being nice? But then one of his hands fell away from your waist to trail closer to your drenched underwear until he had the pad of his thumb planted directly against your clit. That was the extent of his mercy, though. He made no move to provide you with any friction or stimulation– he simply stared at you expectantly. 

Dammit. 

Your hips twitched, unconsciously seeking the reprieve his fingers could offer you. It mattered little though; his strength kept you pinned firmly in place. “I-I want you to fuck me,” you mumbled, cheeks heating with slight embarrassment. 

“Anyone could fuck you, sweetheart. You need to be more specific,” he fucking purred the statement, making your head spin and your inhibitions fly out the damn window. 

“You,” came your wheezed response. “I want you– I want your cock, Sebastian, all I need is you. Please fuck me, I only want you, please.” 

The sight of you flushed and panting, bathed in warm candlelight as your hands fisted ardently in the sheets, drove all of Sebastian’s blood straight to his cock. It twitched enthusiastically within the confines of his briefs. 

You felt the pressure from his arm let up at the same time he removed his thumb from your aching center. Impatient didn’t even begin to cover how you were feeling, but you were all too pleased when his fingers finally pinched the fabric of your panties to tug the material down your bent legs.

Shaking his head in near disbelief, Sebastian groaned, “You sound like a fucking dream begging for it, darling. I’ll give it to you, I promise.”  

His words soothed you, but you still tensed a little when you felt the tip of his finger slip inside your overwhelmingly wet heat. You sighed and spread your legs further to accommodate Sebastian’s kneeled position, and he took to trailing his free hand over your hip bones, then up your torso to squeeze at your breasts as he willed you to relax for him. Releasing your vice grip on the sheets, you wrapped your hand around Sebastian’s thick wrist while he toyed with your sensitive nipples– effectively losing yourself to the euphoric sensation until he was knuckle-deep in your clenching walls. 

A keening sound resonated from deep in your chest as you rocked back onto Sebastian’s finger, testing the feeling, and you bit your lip hard at the rumbling groan your boyfriend gave in response. He leaned down to pepper kisses along your shoulder, sucking at your collarbone and gently nipping at your neck, and when he thrusted his finger minutely and curled it towards your stomach, you shuddered and dug your nails into his forearm.

“Come on,” you whined, bucking your hips more insistently in response to his painfully slow pace. The brunet nodded, pumping his finger deeper, and he couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from his mouth at how fucking tight you were. 

Sebastian worked you with the single digit for a moment before tentatively adding a second, his blood igniting in his veins at the airy gasp you let slip. Your name fell from his lips like a plea, and when he leaned up slightly to gauge your expression, the half-hooded look you bore was enough to make his stomach drop. “Gods, you’re perfect,” he virtually whispered. 

By the time you were amply prepared for him, your hands had abandoned the sheets and his wrist to clutch tightly at his shoulders, your sounds growing desperate and needy. Sebastian continued to spread and twist his fingers, trying to map out precisely where to aim to reduce you to gasping screams just as he’d promised. You were beyond jittery, though, winding your fingers into his curly brown locs to tug his face towards yours and glare openly at him. “I’m about to jump your bones,” you growled, rolling your hips against Sebastian’s fingers urgently. “Come on, Sebastian, let me– fuck–”

Sebastian grinned wildly at the way your back arched clean off the sheets, the tight gasp you pulled into your lungs imbuing him with a need for you that rivaled his need to breathe. Without missing a beat, he withdrew his fingers and frantically set to peeling his briefs away to free himself from the restrictive material. His girth arched proudly against his stomach, swollen and red and so fucking tantalizing. Your eyes devoured him greedily as he tossed the pre-cum stained attire over his shoulder, and then he was crawling over you once again with an animalistic hunger reflecting in his eyes. 

Hooking your legs around his waist, Sebastian braced his arms on either side of your head, gazing at you longingly as the head of his leaking cock brushed against your slick entrance. It took an insane amount of effort for you not to nudge him forward with your heels– forcing yourself to remain pliant as he pressed into you at an achingly slow pace. Your eyes rolled shut at the feeling of being breached, savaging your lower lip with your teeth as inch after inch of Sebastian’s incredible cock entered you. A contented whine weaseled its way from his throat as he bottomed out, and you cracked your bleary eyes open to find the freckled man staring at you with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“W-What?” You muttered, trailing your hands up his muscular biceps before interlacing your fingers together around his neck. “Don’t make me beg again, I already said please.” 

“I was just enjoying the face you were making,” he said with a smirk, grinding his hips enough to have you trembling and arching. “Like you were trying really hard to hold back. It’s hot as hell.”  

You fought a smile, tugging him down by his neck to capture his lips in yet another dizzying kiss. Sebastian bit and licked at your mouth with reckless abandon as he swallowed the sounds his efforts pulled from you, and he sighed before pulling away to brush a few strands of hair off of your forehead. He thrusted suddenly into you– catching you off guard– and your breath hitched at the same time your head fell back, effectively killing the remainder of Sebastian’s patience. 

Dropping one of his hands to your waist, Sebastian withdrew his throbbing member enough so that when he snapped his hips forward, you were jolted up the bed slightly. “Ah–” your sharp cry reverberated off the bedroom walls, and his hold on you instantly became possessive. 

Grasping onto you like his life depended on it, Sebastian dug his feet into the bed to lend some force to his thrusts as he worked himself into an even tempo. It felt mind-numbingly wonderful to finally be encased in your warm walls after day-dreaming about it all night. His mouth fell open with a shaky groan when he pressed his balls against your raised ass, the friction doing you both a slew of favors, and his vision flashed a brilliant white when he felt you clench around his cock and suck him in even deeper. 

“Oh fuck– fucking hell–” Sebastian grit through clenched teeth, pushing himself up fully so he was no longer hunched over you. You unhooked your ankles from around him so he could maneuver your legs over his bent ones, gripping your thighs with a bruising strength that made your mouth dry up in a heartbeat. He had a perfect view of you laid bare under him this way, and he shamelessly watched as his cock glistened with your slick when he pulled out right before plunging back in. 

Your spine rounded, a guttural moan ripping its way from your chest as Sebastian picked up his pace while simultaneously pulling you down onto his quick thrusts. It was pure rapture having his hands on you– demandingly shifting you around to steal his pleasure from your tight heat as he sought out the deepest parts of you. At one point, he released his hold on one of your legs to plant his broad hand on top of your stomach, relishing in how he could feel his cock each time he slid home. It was addicting– you were addicting— and the thought lit a fire in his very soul. 

“S-Sebastian,” you whined, gathering the silky sheets in your clenched fists as wave after wave of sheer pleasure washed over you. With your legs held in the brunet’s strong grip, he had the freedom to fuck harder into your slick folds, pulling noisy cries of his name and desperate pleas for more from your kiss-swollen lips. Your voice was loud in the humid room, your moans echoing off the walls around the two of you– and when Sebastian bucked harder so the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the space– you gasped frantically and writhed beneath him. He had to be hitting a good spot.

“You’re stunning, darling– so fucking good to me–” Sebastian managed to grunt out, pounding his cock into you with temerity that made your looming finish all the more potent. “Fuck, you feel incredible.” 

“Right there, S-Sebastian, fuck me right there, gods–”

The muscles in your stomach were tensing, and you were honestly shaking from the vigor of his thrusts. Sebastian groaned, the sound of your pleading little whimpers driving him mad with undiluted need, and he watched you blearily try to figure out what was going on as he hoisted your legs up and threw them over his shoulders. He moved over you, bending you in half at the same time he rammed his thick cock back into your cunt, and you were hardly given the space to breathe before your boyfriend was fucking you hard— his hips bucking rough and deep and so fucking good that you were left mewling and grasping helplessly at the sheets. 

Sebastian pinned you to the bed and fucked himself into you, his own moans dripping loud from his lips as his hands tangled in your hair and tightened around the strands. The sting was delicious and left you with no choice but to allow your lover to pull you closer to him while he filled you up over and over.  He drank in the sounds you made as your back arched off the sheets the best it could under his added weight, your thighs shaking and muscles tensing until you were barely holding on. 

“Like that– fuck, Sebastian, just like that, I’m gonna come–”

Unable to give a more coherent response than a gasping whine, Sebastian dug his nails into your scalp and was rewarded with the sweet sound of you wailing his name as you came violently, riding your hips down into his as much as you could. Your hands flew to his back to rake angry red welts down his sides, and Sebastian let your legs fall from his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you and bury his face into the crook of your neck. He sank his teeth into the sweaty skin as he gave you the last of his deep, quick thrusts before he was coming inside— your name tumbling over his lips like a mantra as he fell into bliss.

By the time Sebastian was anything approaching coherent, you were still shaking under him, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Fuck,” he murmured into the hollow of your throat, untangling his hands from your hair and smoothing the mussed locs down. 

Sebastian pulled out with a small groan– your hips seemingly lifting to chase the marvelous feeling of being filled– but then he was planting his elbows on either side of you to brace himself as he kissed you breathlessly. You melted under him, curling around him ardently when he finally let himself tip sideways beside you. His chest was heaving with the deep breaths he sucked into his lungs, and you happily nestled your head atop his shoulder as your hands took to tracing invisible shapes and patterns along the taut expanse of his stomach. 

You dozed off sometime after Sebastian had started murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, and when you awoke a few hours later, you were still draped over him, his fingers idly trailing up the shallow dip of your spine. Stretching the best you could without disturbing the peaceful vibe, you craned your neck to look up at Sebastian sleepily, and his eyes crinkled at their corners as he smiled down at you. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

“Mmph,” you grunted, voice thick with sleep. “Is it morning already? You should have woken me up.” 

He shrugged and glanced at the open bedroom door, noting the lack of sunlight streaming in through the skylight. “Early morning, but not daylight hours quite yet. I figured you needed the rest.”

Humming appreciatively, you closed the minuscule space between the two of you to kiss him gently, and he sighed against your lips as his hands roved up your back once more to play with your hair at the nape of your neck. Everything about the moment was pure, and you found it all too easy to get lost in the sensations dancing over your still-sensitive body.

Sebastian broke away first, gazing at you strangely before he abandoned your hair to reach for the nightstand. “I was going to do this earlier before everything, but I uh… got distracted.” 

You couldn’t hide the flush that crept up your cheeks at the reminder. “Hm, I wonder why,” you teased. “Do what, though?”

He finally found whatever he’d been rifling around for blindly and met your inquisitive stare, swallowing nervously. “I’ve been thinking about what’s going to happen after we graduate. I’m sure you have your own ideas, but I just thought– well, I’d obviously like to stay together. I can’t imagine not having you beside me, but that being said, I’ll respect whatever you decide, even if it isn’t what I want to hear.” 

Your stomach flipped over on itself, and your eyes went wider than saucers when Sebastian revealed a small, velvet box gripped tight in his hand. Pushing yourself off of him, he flicked the lid open with trembling fingers, and your gasp was drowned out by the hammering of your heart in your ears. 

Inside was a thin, gold band adorned with a tiny, emerald gemstone that sparkled brilliantly under the flickering candlelight. Your mouth fell open as the implications of the ring bore down on you, and when you looked back at Sebastian, his eyes were scanning your face to gauge your expression. 

“Is that…?” 

“It’s only a posy ring, but I thought that it might make the next few months easier to anticipate. You’re my whole world, darling. I can’t fathom parting ways after everything we’ve been through, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope you felt the same.”

Warm, fat tears welled in your eyes then, blurring your vision before they were streaking down your cheeks without restraint. His anxiety leading up to arriving in the Room of Requirement suddenly made a lot more sense to you, and you realized that he’d planned all of this well in advance. How long had he been waiting to ask you? How long had he held onto the ring in the hopes that you would say yes? 

He still looked nervous, but it was drowned out by the complete adoration that glimmered in his dark eyes. 

“Yes,” you choked out, somewhere in-between sobbing and laughing as you sat up fully. “Yes, Sebastian– of course I feel the same.” 

Sebastian’s smile was blinding, and he plucked the ring from the box and slowly slid it on your extended finger, both of your hands shaking with barely contained excitement. It fit perfectly, and you gave yourself all of two seconds to admire the look and the feeling of it on your hand before you had flipped yourself to the side to straddle him. Your hands cradled his cheeks as you dipped your head lower to kiss him over and over, his soft laughter warming your heart and filling you with a sense of contentment you hadn’t known existed until now.

“I love you, Sebastian. I’ll travel to the ends of the Earth with you, never doubt that. My future is your future– my heart has always belonged to you– of course I’ll stay with you. Whatever is to come, facing it with you is all I want.” 

You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look so elated in all your time knowing him. His face lit up vibrantly at your declaration, and in a flash he had wrapped his arms around you to flip you back over so he was situated on top of you, gazing down at you with his hands running down your bare sides. 

He assaulted the entirety of your face with fervent kisses, laughing softly under his breath as you returned his affections with equal force. “I love you so much, darling. You’re my everything, I wouldn’t change a damned thing about the past knowing that it landed me here with you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

The remainder of the night was spent with the two of you beneath the silk sheets, the promise of tomorrow suddenly all the more exciting to imagine now that you knew Sebastian would be with you for the rest of your life. Posy ring or not, you’d already known that only death could take you from him– and even then you were certain you would find a way to keep loving him long after you were gone. 

Neither one of you would have it any other way. 

[wayfayrr]

Hello! If I may, I’d like to make a request.

When I was little (between 4 and 8), my brother and I played Ocarina of Time constantly. It was our go-to game when hanging out. We replayed it and found all secrets and stuff. I was wondering if you could do a platonic self aware OOT!Link one shot? One where Link considers the player to be like a sibling to him since they grew up together in a way?

Thank you so much! I really enjoy your work ❤️

you're very welcome anon! this was such a sweet request to write!! I went with the post timeskip link for this seeing as I've already written one for Majora's mask link and I thought it would be more interesting to have that difference between the two pieces <3 I hope you'll enjoy this

[masterlist]

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while… do you still have that old copy of Ocarina of time we used to play together? I’ve been kinda wanting to replay it. It’s a bit of a pain to get a new one or an emulator though so…”

“Uh? I think so, I can check in my attic later and drop it around your place tomorrow if I can?”

“That sounds perfect, thanks for the favour man.”

That was a fairly productive phone call, now I hopefully won’t have to mess about with an emulator or shell out for the subscription to play it again. Seeing as Nintendo doesn’t want to make their old catalogue accessible. All I need to do on my end is to wait and possibly google how to set up an N64 in the meantime.

Turns out that we did still have the old thing, and that it isn’t all that hard to set up either so it’s not like it takes too long for me to hear the calmingly melancholic tones of the game’s opening theme. Our old save file is still there too, although some of the stats on the file seem to have gotten a little bit corrupted because I’m convinced we completed it fully. Although it’s been what like 10 years or more since I would’ve last played, it makes sense that I might just be misremembering things. No harm in seeing where we left off though is there?

Well even though the file says otherwise, looking through Link’s inventory really wants to disprove that - there’s something with the same sprite as Zelda’s letter where it should just be an empty slot. It’s not got a name, if I hover over it it simply brings up a missing value error and the button prompt me to read it. It’s not like there’s any issue if I did open it, it’s an old save file so even if it does corrupt I won’t lose anything. 

Nothing happened, just a fade to blank before it glitched out and the inventory screen popped back up so that I could close it and have a look around…

How did Link turn around as I was paused in the inventory and how did his face get so close to the screen?

“[Name]? I knew you’d be back at some point! I knew you wouldn’t just leave your older brother for good… you wouldn’t would you?”

“...How do you know my name..?”

I know that Ai has gotten incredibly good recently but this is an N64, an unmodded one at that, so whatever the hell is happening right now can’t be due to that. This feels like it could be the start to a creepypasta though with everything going on right now - is this like a real life ben drowned - no it can’t be, he’d be crying blood if it were the case and he wouldn’t be as friendly either. 

“Because you told me it all those years ago when you first played through the game? You always spoke to me like I was a real person, like you saw me as your older brother, so it’s only natural that I started to see you like a little sibling right? Then when you disappeared I got so worried, It’s been so long but you’ve gotten so much older! Did you pull the mastersword yourself, because this much time can’t have really passed can it?... Can it?”

He looks almost like he’s about to cry, I should be caref- why am I so worried about hurting the feelings of a fictional character? Is it cause he sees me like a sibling, a younger one; because he knows me from when I was younger; or because he seems so attached to me already? Maybe I should just… turn it off so I don’t have to deal with it.

“I don’t remember how long it’s been, a good few years at least, Since I’ve played it. I wasn’t exactly planning to-”

“Is that what you used to control me!? I’ve never been able to get a good look at it before. Would you mind bringing it closer?”

“...Yeah I can bring it closer.”

The way he interrupted me was so so sad, he’s forcing himself to be cheery when he looks like he’s about to break down, like how an older brother would act. He really sees himself as my older brother doesn’t he? I have to admit that the way he’s leaning against the screen like an excited kid is also pretty cute I won’t lie to myself, if it weren’t for how insane the situation is I don’t think I’d mind him being my younger brother. He’s younger than me now anyway so that makes far more sense. 

Is the screen cracking beneath him? 

It’s definitely cracking under his weight, there are seconds left before it shatters.

“It’s so simple and yet it was the reason that you were able to-”

Glass can only last so long. And now he’s out, lying on my floor in a shocked heap with glass shards surrounding and covering him. After a couple of seconds of neither of us knowing what to do, we both snap into action at the same time, while I try to help him up and check for any serious wounds… he’s just laughing with the widest goofiest smile on his face, grabbing at my arms like I’m nothing but a wisp of a dream. 

“I - wow I - I could never have imagined that I could - that this - that this was even an option for me…”

“But I can be your brother in person now can’t I?”