#he just seems like he would stone out y’know?

[sp00kies]

Ok, I like your headcanon for McLeach but since when did he became a Stoner? That's the most funniest thing ever I've seen in my entire life, I love it 😂

Look at me in the eyes and tell me this man was not on something throughout the film

[zaephix]

l'avoir elle, c'est avoir les étoiles / / wriothesley . . .

wriothesley considered himself a pretty selfless man, until it came to you. wouldn’t you indulge him in his selfish desires for a moment of your time?

warnings: inspired by veil (manga), blind!reader, f!reader, ooc wriothesley?, wriothesley’s pov, mentions of smoking, mentions of neuvilette and sigewinne, fluff, domesticity

w/c: 1.25k

authors note:  i reread veil and i need an aleksander to call my own hmu if ur a russian police officer w red hair Plz. art cred: ルル on twt

“wrio? what’s wrong?”

wriothesley fully opens his half lidded eyes, noting your appearance as you lay on the table before him, not wanting to disturb his contemplation.

the only sound at this time of the night being your voices, the distant echoes of droplets from the pipes in the wall, and the soft jazz playing from his gramophone. you slowly get up and approach him, light steps clicking against the stone floor.

your hands find their way to his face, a light stubble itching against your fingers. he sighs, leaning against you. “...nothin’ to worry your pretty little head about.”

you hum, obviously not believing his lie. you drag your fingers to the back of his head, lightly scratching his scalp. you lean in towards him, the couch dipping ever so slightly. “mhm. is it the fortress again? ‘nother fight?” 

he chuckles, leaning his head back. the one thing he loved about you was your attentiveness. you’d read him like a book, or rather,  feel.

you tilted your head in confusion, your pretty and ever-so-long lashes fluttering while closed against your skin. “what?”

“nothin’ angel. just admiring you.”

“y’know, if you wanted to distract me it’s not working. the way to my heart isn’t just built on flattery. and anyone could see through those big sighs of yours.” and you go again, flashing that cheeky smile as you always did, the same as when you two were younger.

he laughs lightly, “of course 'ts not. i know you better than that.”

“and i know you better than that,” your hands stop, and you look at him with the most serious face you could muster, “tell me.”

he sighs and shakes his head, “it’s a lot more complicated than that sweetheart, don’t wanna bore you to death.”

and with that you relent with your own deep sigh, leaning back into the couch and off of him. he misses your warmth.

“don’t be like that (y/n).” he looks at you through the sides of his eyes, then gently reaches for your hand, caressing it with his thumb. “you got so much to worry ‘bout already, with how many are coming in all roughed up.”

“yes…” you mumble, “but, it’s just us now.”

he can’t see your eyes, as they’re closed, but he was sure they’d be glossy now—he wishes you’d open them once more. wriothesley leans in and plants a small kiss against your forehead, then leans his own against it.

he knows your weakness for touch, for physical contact. 

the way your delicate hands would softly caress every nook and cranny of a trinket he’d get you. the way you’d feel for a lamp when you thought things were too dim for your liking. the way you’d toy with the jewelry hanging on your neck, ears and wrists. it seemed like you couldn’t get enough.

he also knows about your compassion for him. always keeping tabs throughout the day, sending little sweets and snacks for him. you’d handle patients with sigewinne with gentleness, even when they were somewhat undeserving of it. and when you’d have work above ground, you make sure to send letters to sigewinne, keeping up with her updates about him. 

wriothesley knows you miss living up in the city. he knows you long for the soft tunes that would be performed in the dim-lit streets at night, tossing a few mora into their hats lying on the sidewalk. he knows you miss keeping up with the latest fashion trends and splurging your money on tens of dresses. he knows you miss your old life with him.

and so in spite of this, you still stood by him. ever so selfless and caring.

but he couldn’t help himself out of his own selfishness.

wriothesley pulls you into his lap, his rough hands pushing back the few loose strands of hair in front of your face behind your ears. to everyone he’d be known as the fearless duke of meropide, to you, he’d just be plain old wriothesley. your loving, plain, old wriothesley.

you’re reluctant at first, a pout standing firm on your face. your delicate features almost give you away as he slowly snakes his arms around you. he pulls you closer by your waist and you give in just like putty in his palms. 

your eyes are still comfortably closed, hands making their way lazily to his shoulders. you sniff the air around you two, scrunching your nose. “you’ve been smoking, my lord?”

“...no.”

“you’ve got all these rules around the fortress about extending prison time if anybody ever so as brings in a lighter, and yet you’re here, in your office, all cooped up and–”

you squeal as he puts his lips to yours to shut you up. you taste like crepes and jam, courtesy of neuvillette. the soft velvet feel of your lipstick smears against him, some even getting on his teeth. sigewinne was in his office just a day ago asking about what shade of red or pink would suit you. it appears she chose well. he smiles into the kiss, hands digging their way into your hair. he makes a note to thank both for the gifts.

you pull away with a slight gasp before resuming like the sly fox you were. you were always able to catch on quickly, as you’d learn a few things from him yourself. 

you nibble on his lip. he lightly bites yours’ back.

you stifle your giggles at first, but then you laugh, and suddenly, your complexion was glowing — and he swore he’d seen an angel. 

wriothesley looks up at you with a fondness in his eyes, hands now at your waist. he was sure he looked silly, with the reddish pink all over his lips, but he knew you wouldn’t care. really.

“shutting me up with a kiss… how original of you.”

“but you liked it, no?” that earns him a flick against his forehead, ouch.

you sit up straight, wiping the edges of your lips, “if you’ll excuse me, sir, i promised sigewinne i’d help her in stocking the medical cabinet. we’ve just received our shipment of gauze from fontaine.”

he knew you wouldn’t notice it, but he couldn’t help but look at you with longing in his eyes, wanting to shield you away and coop you inside his office, inside his arms.

but he lets you go with a sigh on his lips and a gentle kiss of his thumb on the apple of your cheek. “yes, ma’am,” he pauses before he adds on. “you want me to walk you there?”

you stand up and he gets up synonymously with you, tugging and fixing your clothes without a word. “it’s fine, i can get around the place myself, i’m not a damsel in need of help all the time.”

you turn on your tippy toes and press a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth before quickly grabbing your coat and leaving. “i’ll see you again soon, okay?”

he smiles after you, watching as you leave with your shoes clicking against the stone of the floor. he looks back at his desk with grimace, the piles of paperwork enough to sour his mood.

he grabs a cigarette and reaches for his pockets, trying to find the cool metal of his lighter. instead, it appears, he was met with something else.

“what…?”

he realizes now that you truly were too sly for your own good, as he was met with the very same lipstick gifted to you.

cheeky.

[revasserium]

loving you was red

sylus; 4,627 words; fluff, banter, no "y/n", mild spoilers for sylus's main storyline, subtle but not so subtle flirting, nicknames (kitten, little crow), kinda enemies to lovers

summary: the beginning of everything, all in shades of red

a/n: this was supposed to be fun lil drabble; alas, that's not what it turned out to be, but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. i had fun with the banter in this one u__u

001. fire and brimstone

The city below is a shatter of broken stars, and from up this high, none of it seems real. You cannot reconcile the sight of all those scattered, pinpoints of light with the lives you know shine behind them. You cannot imagine sitting in your living room, scrolling through your news-feed, waiting for the water to boil for late night ramen.

“Trouble sleeping?”

You congratulate yourself on not wincing, on keeping perfectly still.

Sylus joins you by the window, his arms looped lazily in front of his chest, his dark silk robe falling open to reveal his chest. You keep your eyes resolutely on the technicolored skyline.

“Yeah,” you say, feigning a yawn, “just something about being held captive against my will that just… messes with my circadian rhythm, y’know?”

Sylus chuckles, the sound rumbling through him, low enough to make you shiver.

“Don’t tell a girl like you still needs someone to sing her to sleep.” He’s teasing. You know he is, and yet you can’t keep the heat from clawing up the back of your neck. You scowl, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.

“What gives you that idea?” you ask, still in your flailing attempt to seem calm, seem collected.

"Nothing in particular… just… the twins found a shocking number of plushies in your room so —”

"You had them go through my stuff?” you round on him, glaring, your fingers clenched into fists.

Sylus shrugs, peering at you out the corner of his eye, an amused grin ticking at his mouth.

“Feisty little kitten, aren’t you? Though for what it’s worth — they didn’t find much on how your Evol works.”

You huff, turning back to the floor to ceiling windows, knitting your arms tightly across your chest.

“You heard the shopkeeper — we have to — to…” you trail off, the words caught in the back of your throat like peach pits, hard and large and impossible to stomach. You flush, biting down on your lips.

“To what, hm?” Sylus sounds amused, and it’s this more than anything that spurs you onwards.

You turn to glare at him, “To not hate each other!”

Sylus cocks a single, arched brow.

“So, do you?”

You blink, feeling the ever-present heat prickling into your cheeks as you stare resolutely at the skyline outside. From this distance, Linkon City could be any other city, with it’s towering skyscrapers and twinkling lights.

“Do I what?” you ask, your voice softer as you try to pinpoint the exact location of where you used to live.

“Hate me.”

You turn; in the dimness, all you can see of Sylus is his firebrand eyes and his stone-cut features. The dark curve of his mouth and the sharp jut of his nose. When he turns to meet your gaze, you can barely stifle your gasp — his eyes are so red, so deep and strange.

“Brimstone…” you say, without really thinking about it.

Confusion flickers across his vulturine features.

“Hm?”

You lick your lips, feeling the dryness that had since collected there.

“Brimstone,” you say again, shaking your head and averting your eyes, only for Sylus to catch your chin in his fingers and force you to look back at him, to be swallowed up by his gaze, “it’s… something from… the ancient religions. It’s — back when they believed in gods and monsters, people would use the word brimstone to signify divine wrath…”

His finger slacken on your chin and you let your head fall as he takes half a step away.

He lets out a mirthless laugh, his eyes faraway as he stares out at Linkon City, laid out before his feet.

“I can’t say I know much about gods, but… monsters?”

You swallow, feeling the imprint of his fingers on your skin.

He turns back to look at you, his gaze soft, but no less startling. You feel an unnamable fire frisson up your spine and skitter back down again.

“Monsters are very, very real,” he leans in, closing gap between your body and his, till he has you nearly caged against the cool glass of the penthouse windows. He shifts to brush away a strand of hair, tucking it behind your ear with too-gentle fingers. His next words are whispered, his voice in a register so low it almost sounds like the shadow of sound — he leans in, his lips brushing by your cheek till you can feel the heat of his breath right next to your ear —

“And they look just like you and me.”

002. lipstick

“So at the auction —”

“Just do as I say, and you’ll get what you want.”

You narrow your eyes in the mirror, staring at the reflection of Sylus fastening a pair of ornate silver cufflinks to his impeccably tailored suit.

“Give me one reason to trust you,” you say.

Sylus looks up, a hand still on his cuffs as he meets your gaze in the mirror, unflinching.

“Since when have I ever asked you to trust me?”

Over on the dresser, Mephisto lets out a soft caw that sounds almost mocking. You swirl to glare at him and he has the decency to flap his mechanical wings, shuffling until he’s hidden from view behind Sylus’s shadow.

Sylus laughs, “Alright — settle down, little crow.”

You frown, “Little crow? What happened to kitten?”

Sylus shrugs, “Changed my mind. Figured little crow fits you a bit better. You know — loud, defiant…” he smirks as his voice trails off.

You don’t try to hide your consternation, “Often associated with murder?”

Behind him, Mephisto lets out an indignant ca-caw.

You try to sidestep Sylus, only to find yourself trapped against the mirror by his strong arms. He grins down at you, his canines flashing over his lower lip as he cocks his head.

“Like I said, fits better, no?” he asks.

You stare up at him, trying to make out what he’s thinking behind those firelight eyes of his.

“Let me go — I still need to finish my makeup,” you say, pressing a palm to his chest. You try not to think about the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch, or the heat of his skin, even through all these layers of clothing.

“What else is there?” he asks, his eyes flickering over your features; you shiver, feeling the weight of his gaze as it sweeps over your face like a sudden flare of heat, “you look pretty finished to me.”

You lick your lips, and feel a strange, savage satisfaction at the tick of his eyes down to your mouth, at the way his pupils dilate, at how they track the slow progress of your tongue as it laves across your bottom lip before disappearing back into your mouth.

“Lipstick,” you say, trying not to sound too smug.

Sylus puffs out a laugh before reaching over to the low dressing table and grabbing a tube of lipstick. He uncaps it with a finger, and twists out the color without once breaking your gaze. Vaguely, you feel your stomach tense, and you ponder the unfairness of this one, single act — how could he look so stupidly attractive doing all this when he’s got you trapped here? Like some sort of exotic songbird in a golden cage.

“T-that’s not the color I wanted —” you say, but even to your own ears, you don’t sound convincing.

Sylus’s smile slackens into a lopsided smirk as he tilts your chin up to press the cream of the lipstick to your lips, dragging it delicately across one way, then back the other.

“Press your lips,” he says, his voice softer and gentler than you’ve ever heard it before.

You do, feeling a stifling thump-thump-thump rise up to beat against the back of your throat as his eyes flick down to watch you.

“Mm… as I thought, this color looks great on you,” he says, pulling back to admire his handiwork.

You feel the air rush back into your lungs in a single, searing breath, caught between the urge to brace your arms against your knees and heave, or to drag your hand across your mouth to rid yourself of the lipstick.

You do neither though, because at that moment, the twins call from outside the door —

“Auction’s about to start!” says Luke.

“Hope you’re both ready!” says Kieran.

Sylus straightens, capping the lipstick with a sharp click. You force yourself to calm down, to focus on your breathing — four counts in, seven counts out.

“Are you ready?” Sylus asks, his tone once more whiskey-smooth and just as potent.

You roll back your shoulders and give a quick nod, speaking to yourself just as much as you’re speaking to him —

“Sure. Let’s get this over with.”

003. blood and roses

There’s blood on your hands and blood on the pavement. The world shimmers around you in wildfire and smoke.

“… so… so much blood…”

“You can’t die here —” Sylus’s voice cuts through the memory like a struck chord, resonating inside you till it’s the only thing you can hear, “that life you owe me? It’s not your time to pay it back yet!”

You reach for him, and the moment you feel your palms connect, a bead of heat pulses out from the center of your clasping hands. Your skin is slick with sweat and blood, but his hand beneath you is oddly cool and smooth.

The charred ashes of the beaten Wanderer fall around you like flakes of misbegotten snow; you wave your free hand to keep the pieces from falling into your eyes. A river of light seeps from the Deepspace Tunnel into the center of your chest, glowing brighter and brighter until it coalesces into a familiar gem-like shape.

It comes to a rest between your fingers seconds before it cracks, the light flickering once along the seam before going out.

“It — the Aether Core —!”

“It’s power is yours now. Why’re you so surprised?” Sylus doesn’t let go of your hand, but realizing this, you pull away first, and he makes no move to stop you.

“D-did you know?” you ask, unable to keep the accusation from seeping into your voice.

“Does it make a difference?”

You clamp down hard on your bottom lip, weighing the answers. It isn’t until you reach up to absently card your hand through your hair that you notice — your wrist and his, linked together by a tangible string of red, pulsing power.

You gasp, “W-what —?”

“Tch.”

You wave your wrist, watching as Sylus’s hand follows the movement. Your cheeks darken as he looks away, sighing audibly.

“If you planned this —!” but your words are cut short by a sudden wave of vertigo — the world spins around you and for a second, all you can see is the pinwheeling stars above you, the bright, pulsating edges of the Deepspace Tunnel, and then — everything fades to a sweet, merciful darkness.

You wake up to the smell of roses, and a warm body next to yours. Groaning, you try to shield your eyes from the light filtering through the massive windows.

It takes you a second to orient yourself, and to realize why your wrist seems so heavy as you try to lift a hand and rub at your eyes.

“Looks like you’re up early, though Mephisto still has you beat.”

You blink blearily up at Sylus, sitting next to you in bed, his back propped up on a fortress of pillows, a tablet in one hand, the other still linked to your wrist, half-raised to your face.

You squeak, ducking down to hide beneath the covers, hurriedly wiping at your eyes and your mouth, a mix of horror and embarrassment mounting in your stomach as you realized you must have been drooling in your sleep.

“What did you do to me?!” you demand, pulling back the covers when you’re somewhat certain that you don’t still have drool-marks at the corners of your mouth.

Sylus, for his part, looks only mildly ruffled by your sudden stint back to wakefulness. He takes his time setting down the tablet with his free hand and picking up the steaming mug of black coffee.

“You fainted,” he says, as if that explains everything, “after the resonance worked. Though it makes sense you would — after finally getting the Aether Core and all —”

“No! I mean —” you gesture desperately between you, the pristine linen sheets twisting around you both like waves on a white-sand beach, “how did I — we — get here? Who changed me?” you ask, your cheeks flaring up even as Sylus sips at his coffee, seemingly content to watch you sputter yourself dry.

“Really? After all that, the first question you have is who changed your clothes?” Sylus asks, a distinct tone of mockery clear in his every word.

“Shut up! You know what I mean!”

“Do I? I don’t think I do — you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.” He grins, all splitting lips and too-white teeth. You stare, dumbfounded at his nonchalant expression before huffing and slumping back into your own pile of pillows. You blink, throwing up your free hand to shield yourself from the too-bright light of sunrise, shining straight into your eyes.

Wordlessly, Sylus taps a few buttons on his tablet and the windows darken, filtering out the harsh morning light, leaving the pair of you in a dim, yet luminous shadow.

“I just —” you cut yourself off before you can ask yet another mundane question, and finally, after a few minutes of mulling over what exactly it is you want to ask, you settle on, “what now?”

Sylus shrugs, casting his eyes back down at his tablet, setting his half-drunk cup of coffee on the bedside table.

“Now, we do whatever we want. You have your Aether Core and I have mine,” he lifts up his wrist, shaking yours in the process, “and we try to figure out how to manage this.”

“And if we don’t?” you ask dryly.

Sylus chuckles, “Then, we figure out a way to live with it.”

You roll your eyes involuntarily, “Ugh. Of all the people to be stuck to…” you mutter to yourself. And though you’d said it quiet enough for it to be an afterthought, both of you knew Sylus had been too close not to hear.

He scoffs, pulling you close, tipping you off balance so that you topple face-first into his chest.

“Wake up, little crow,” he says, his tone caught halfway between mocking and maleficence, twisting your face till you’re forced to stare out of the window at the dulled-out skyline below.

“You think you’re so great, being a Hunter and getting rid of Wanderers,” he says, a sharp venom seeping into his words as he speaks, and slowly, he punches a button the tablet that makes the windows un-tint themselves.

You watch as the sunrise bleeds itself dry over Linkon City, the harsh, morning light slicking the entire city in a vapid, orange glow.

“The brighter the light, the darker the shadow — do you really think that just because you and your little Hunter friends are out there killing Wanderers and saving the world, that there isn’t the a need for people like us?” Sylus pushes you away from him. It’s not a harsh move, but it’s not exactly gentle either.

And again, you can’t help feeling the imprint of his fingers, almost as if burned into your skin as your rub at your jaw.

It’s when you turn to glare at him that you meet his gaze and find him staring at you with a look that’s much more haunting than ghost. Much more longing than loathe.

“Well… you’re one of us now. And newsflash, little crow — sometimes, the world just doesn’t want to be saved.”

You let his words sit with you, like river stones, hard and smooth, feeling them sink slowly down the length of your throat to settle somewhere in the wide basin on your stomach. You avert your eyes, and it’s only then that you notice the bouquet of flowers sitting on your bedside table.

“What are the roses for?” you ask, reaching out your free hand to run a thumb along a single, velvet petal. It comes off at your touch, and you watch it fall against the unmarred white marble of the table top.

“A little present,” Sylus says, waving you away, “a thank you - for a job well done last night.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your tone, “it’s not like I had much of a choice.”

“You did,” Sylus says, “you could’ve killed me. And you didn’t.

“I could still kill you now,” you say, though there’s no conviction in your voice at all. Instead, you reach out to tug at another dark red petal. It comes off just as easily as the one before.

“You could. But you haven’t. And don’t you think that warrants a reward?”

004. dawn

“I’ve never hated you, you know.”

You frown, squinting against the early-morning light.

It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself waking up next to him, and you think it won’t be the last. You flip onto your side to face him, feeling a familiar rush of heat crest into your chest as you come nearly nose to nose with him.

Sylus barely even flinches, cocking an eyebrow before reaching out to tug a stray piece of hair from your face.

“What?” you ask, even though you know full well what he’d said. So maybe, you just wanted to hear it again — is that so terrible?

“Hn,” Sylus grins, rolling onto his back to cast his eyes up at the ceiling, “I said you’re getting drool on my pillows.”

You squeak, fumbling to wipe at your face before the realization hits, and you jerk up, pouting.

“That’s not what you said!”

“Then you did hear,” Sylus casts you an amused glance.

You lick your lips, the soft cotton of sleep still muffling the world such that everything except him feels strangely out of focus.

“I — I heard… a word here and there —”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?”

You scowl, whipping around to pin him with a stare, “Where I come from, that’s not a bad thing.”

Sylus’s eyes tick towards you, his expression amused as he appraises you, and not for the first time, you feel yourself go warm beneath the solar-storm fixation of his attention. Like this, you can feel the air between you blistering, as oil to a lit fuse, as his eyes travel over the planes of your face, the curve of your shoulder, the thin silk strap that had since slipped to cling to your upper arm.

“No? I suppose not,” he concedes, pushing himself up, reaching over the bedside table to push at a small button on the far side. Somewhere else in the penthouse, you can hear an alarm bell ring.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing.

“Coffee,” he answers, and you fall silent again, turning your face away from him to look back at the heartbreak city, carved in shadows against dawn’s liquid light. It’d only been — what — a week? A bit more? And yet you can’t bring yourself to see the city the same.

Nothing has changed — not really.

But everything’s different, you think, as the door on the far side of the bedroom cracks open and Luke peers in with a smug smile and two steaming cups of coffee.

“Black for the boss, and milk and sugar and all the trimmings for the little crow.”

Sylus tsks, a frown digging itself into the space between his eyebrows, his eyes flashing as he takes the two cups. Luke, to his credit, jerks back, dancing out of Sylus’s reach.

“Ah — sorry, sorry — didn’t know that was a special nickname,” he says, making a show of stooping to apologize, though neither of you miss the jesting crow beneath his voice.

“Out.” Sylus orders, and Luke doesn’t waste time scurrying from the room, cackling beneath his breath like a gleeful child.

You take your cup from his hand and give it a dainty sip, adjusting yourself against the pile of pillows.

“What? I thought that nickname was your idea.”

“It is,” Sylus says, relaxing back. The tether between your wrists sits slack and nearly invisible on the sheets between you. He stares down at the dark liquid surface of his own cup before turning to smirk at you, “doesn’t mean it was meant to be shared.”

You clamp down on another wash of heat, threatening your cheeks as you sink a bit deeper into the luxurious bedding. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to sleep on sheets this nice again once you figure out how to break the tether between you and you’re finally allowed to go home.

“Why say it where other people can hear if you didn’t want them to pick it up?” you shoot back, determined to get the last say, at least in this.

Sylus sets down his cup, cocking his head to look at you, “It’s not a joke if there’s no one around to hear the punchline.”

You level him with a glare, “Is that all I am to you? A joke?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem if I’m just your captor, right?”

You open your mouth to retort, only to find your voice stolen by the sight of him, kissed gold by the rising sun. You’ve never been one to obsess over beauty but even you can’t pretend to be unaffected.

Like this, he looks hewn from marble, a statue at the loving hands of a besotted sculptor — a lazy god rendered into silk and stone. He is smooth skin and burning eyes and a jawline that might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. There’s a base carnality in the way he looks at you (and looks at you) — his gaze so penetrating that somehow, you don’t think you’ve ever been seen this way before.

There’s a damnable elegance to him, even as his lips twitch up into a tell-tale smirk.

“What?” he asks, leaning forward just an inch, but the distance feels exaggerated by your closeness, such that suddenly, you’ve got to lean back to look into his face. He licks his own lips languorously, and you feel your chest tighten on a torque, caught in the turn of his smile.

“Kitten got your tongue?” he asks.

You shake yourself, shifting back slightly, “You’re mixing your metaphors,” you say, trying to keep your eyes from straying back to his face.

“They’re my metaphors to do with as I wish. So. Aren’t you going to answer?”

“Answer what?”

“What you think you heard me say, right before you woke up.”

You cup your palms around your coffee mug, feeling its heat seep steadily into your skin. There’s a familiar tingle at the tips of your ears and you know you’re already blushing.

Stupid coffee, you think, trying hard to school your expression into a frown, stupid Sylus, you add to yourself, taking a long sip and biting back your sigh of relief at the mundane magic of caffeine and sugar.

“Does it matter what I think?” you sidestep the question.

Sylus doesn’t miss a beat, “If it didn’t, would I have asked?”

The torniquet in your chest twists tight enough to make your stomach flip as well. You chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your answer.

“I never hated you…” you say, finally, your voice barely more than a whisper or a breath. And even as the words fall from you like so many rose petals, you’re unsure if you’re repeating his words back at him or making an admission of your own.

Sylus only shifts back to his side of the bed, leaning against his pile of pillows. Your wrists sit atop the sheets, inches apart, and yet you can’t deny the dull pull of gravity between you, as if something beneath your skin is itching to be close to his.

You turn to face him, twisting your fingers in your lap.

The quiet softens around you both, settling until you let out another long breath.

“So…” you drag out the word as Sylus glances up at you, expectant. His eyes flicker with the fire of the rising dawn behind you, and in them, you can see the shadow of yourself, painted in darkness against the light.

“What’s for breakfast?” you ask.

Sylus chuckles, his head listing sideways as he studies you.

“Whatever you’d like.”

“Hm…” you make a show of swinging your legs out of the bed, shivering slightly as your feet come into contact with the cool marble floors, “are there pancakes?”

Sylus stretches his arms over his head, letting out a soft groan that evokes something inside you that you’d rather not examine at the moment. You keep yourself turned resolutely away from him even as you hear the distinct sounds of him getting out of bed as well.

“No, but there can be — you only need ask.”

“Fine, I want pancakes,” you say, finally turning around, only to find him standing right behind you, his silk robe discarded on the floor by the bed, his chest broad and entirely bare. Your breath catches in your throat as he cocks an eyebrow.

“Is that asking?”

You crinkle your nose, forcing air back into your lungs.

“Okay, okay — can we have pancakes?”

Amusement dances behind his eyes as he bends over you, propping a hand casually on the dresser behind you to limit your movements.

“And the magic word?”

You narrow your eyes, “Nevermind!”

“Mm — wrong. Two more tries.”

You try to duck under his arm but he catches you easily, spinning you back around to face him, nearly sweeping Mephisto from his perch on the dresser. The crow lets out an offended caw and flaps off towards the far end of the room, coming to a disgruntled rest on the back of a satin loveseat.

“Let me go!”

“Wrong again — last chance.”

You sink your nails into the skin of his forearm, trying not to think of the taut muscles corded there. He doesn’t even wince, though for a second, the tether between your wrists flares up like a fanned flame.

“Fine! Please!”

Sylus straightens with a satisfied smirk, turning around to make for the bedroom door. Your chest is heaving, and the sudden space between you make your head spin. You blink at his retreating form, and it isn’t till he reaches the door that he turns to glance at you over his shoulder.

“Hope you like raspberry jam.”

You level your breathing and hurry to catch up, clutching your own sleeping robe tighter around your chest as you fall into step next to him.

“I thought you didn’t like sweet things.”

He opens the door and steps aside for you to walk through first.

“I never said it was for me.”

---

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[guinea-pig16]

House Call

Harvey x Farmer!Reader

Fic is below the cut! Please enjoy!

Summary: Harvey gets calls from people in Pelican Town who are concerned for the new farmer's health. Harvey goes and pays the new farmer a visit.

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Word Count: 2100+

Warnings: Wounds, bruises, burns

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Harvey walked past the bus stop, medical bag in hand, enjoying the warm breeze. It was late spring, the days getting warmer and longer as summer attempted to take over. He was on his way to the old farm that had been taken over by a newcomer a couple months ago. The new farmer, named Y/N, had already gained the reputation of being incredibly friendly. They would come into town frequently to get tasks from the help board, buy supplies, donate items to the museum, or just to chat with the townsfolk. Harvey personally didn’t talk to them much, not that he avoided them of course, he just tended to stay inside his clinic, oftentimes missing their visits into town. 

He was on his way to the farm because he had gotten a series of calls from his fellow townspeople concerned for Y/N’s health. Apparently, they had gone to the saloon late last night appearing battered and bruised after an adventure to the mines. Harvey was fairly certain that they were fine as he’d heard they frequented the mines quite often, but being a doctor, he couldn’t say they’d be fine if he didn’t at least check on them. 

Harvey entered the farm and looked around in slight awe. The last time he saw the old farm it was overgrown with gnarled trees, weeds, and stones. Now it was nothing but a clear field (with the occasional large stones and logs) with plots of crops growing happily in the soil. Something was off though as he stepped closer. He was no farmer by any means, but the plots didn’t appear to be watered yet. He looked to his left. The mailbox still had its flag up, meaning the mail hadn’t been checked. He furrowed his brow and checked his watch. It was about 15 minutes past 9.

Odd… I thought they were usually up and about by this time. He thought as he climbed the steps to the porch. Their house was quite small, looking more like a cabin than a house. It seemed as though they had attempted to repair some of the cracks and holes on the outside themself. He knocked on the door. 

From inside he heard shuffling and a quiet groan, then a muffled coming. As he heard footsteps approaching the door, he quickly gave himself a once over, smoothing his coat and readjusting his collar. The door swung open and a tired (slightly annoyed) Y/N clad in pajamas greeted him. They stared at him blearily before recognition flashed in their eyes. They quickly straightened and cleared their throat.

“Uh, Dr. Harvey. What a surprise, I didn’t expect to see you.” They said, fixing him with a slightly strained polite smile. Harvey quickly glanced them over, trying to see any injuries. They were wearing a loose long-sleeve shirt and baggy pajama pants with slippers. He didn’t notice any physical ailments.

“Please, just call me Harvey. I came today because I’ve received several phone calls from people in town concerned about your well being.” He said. He watched as their face flushed slightly. They brought a hand to the back of their neck and glanced at the floor, shuffling slightly.

“...Ah, I see… Well, I’m doing fine, just a lil’ worn out from last night. Nothing some rest can’t fix, y’know?” They said sheepishly. Harvey raised a brow at them, causing them to shrink slightly.

“I was told you looked like you had gotten into a fight with a bear last night.” 

“...Oh… well… yeah…” They stared at their feet.

“Have you treated your wounds at least?” He asked.

“Um… yeah…?” They said, sounding unsure.

“May I check?” Harvey asked. He saw them hesitate to answer. “It won’t take long, I just want to make sure your wounds don’t get infected.” He clarified, giving them a small smile. He watched them consider his offer. After a moment, they sighed and stepped to the side.

“Alright, you make a good point. Come in, I’ll make some coffee.” With that, they walked inside letting Harvey follow. He closed the door behind him and looked around. It was fairly small, but cozy. Their bed was pressed into a corner, the sheets a mess. There was a fireplace against the far wall and a box tv sitting next to it with a pillow in front of it to act as a chair. Against the right wall was a small kitchenette, a table with two chairs, and a door which he assumed led to the bathroom. 

Y/N gestured towards the table. “Go ahead and have a seat, make yourself at home.” Harvey walked to the table and set his bag down. He sat and observed them as they rummaged around to find coffee grounds. A slight frown settled on his face as he noticed their movements. If they moved too fast, they’d wince and slow down. There was the slightest limp to their steps as they went to the sink to fill the coffee machine. They sat down in the other chair, moving slowly as if going faster would hurt too much.

They watched Harvey as he shrugged off his coat and opened his bag, pulling out a thermometer. He turned to them. 

“Alright, to start I’m going to take your temperature.” He leans close and places the thermometer against their forehead. “Have you been experiencing any headaches, tiredness, or nausea?” He asks. He doesn’t notice how Y/N begins to flush. 

“Um… no, not that I know of…? I’m just kinda… sore.” They say, letting out a breath as Harvey leans back and checks the thermometer. Their temperatures normal. That’s good, it doesn't seem as though they have an infection. He glances at them. I’d better still check where they’ve been injured though. He places the thermometer back in his bag and rolls up his sleeves.

“Your temperature is normal. Where have you been feeling sore?” He asks. They rest their head in their hand, drumming their fingers, appearing uncomfortable. 

“Um, mostly my back and legs. My arms are pretty sore too.” Harvey nods.

“So, what exactly happened last night?” He asks.

They look at the table, appearing embarrassed. “Well… I went mining and uh, might’ve gotten a bit in over my head… There were a lot more monsters than last time and… I think you can guess the rest…” They traced patterns in the wood of the table. Harvey grimaced. He knew the mines were full of dangerous creatures. Slimes, bats, rock crabs, huge flies, shadow people and more.

“May I see?” They stare at him for a moment.

“...See what?”

“...Your injuries…?” He says, raising a brow. Y/N flushed, eyes widening.

“Um, they’re not that bad! Don’t worry about them, I’m fine! Probably just need some pain pills to be honest…” They say quickly, tugging on their sleeve. Harvey had a feeling that they didn’t want him to see their wounds. Either because they were embarrassed, or they were that bad.

“I just want to make sure you’ve properly dressed them.” They looked down at the table. “I’ll leave as soon as I see you’re okay. That’s the only reason I’m here.” Harvey said. They nervously tapped their fingers on the table and then let out a sigh.

“...Alright…” With that, they began to lift their shirt off. He sees them wince slightly as they raise the shirt off their torso. He grimaces as he sees black and yellow bruises adorning their sides and stomach. They had shoddily wrapped a bandage around their middle and upper right arm, dried blood having bloomed to the surface. 

“May I remove the bandage?” He asked. Y/N nodded slightly, looking to the side, embarrassed. Harvey stood and gently began to remove the bandage from their arm. He stopped when they winced, and then proceeded even slower. 

Harvey winced himself when he fully removed the bandage. There was a large burn on their upper arm, it appeared to be an acid burn. Y/N glanced at him and cleared their throat, looking sheepish.

“Yeah… A slime got me when I wasn’t paying attention. Could’ve been worse, my shirt took most of the hit… Bastard ruined a good shirt…” They trailed off. 

“...I see. And you know how to treat burns like this?” He asked, opening his bag. He pulled out a fresh bandage and some petroleum jelly and a sterile cloth. They tapped their fingers nervously on the table.

“...Wrap it…?” Harvey smiled slightly and went to the sink and ran water over the cloth. 

“Yes, but you’re supposed to rinse off the burn first with water to clear any harmful residue. Then you wrap it loosely. You wrapped yours too tight. Wrapping it too tightly could cause it to swell.” He sat back down and began to gently wipe the burn. He frowned, the burn had already begun to swell slightly. 

“...Oh…” Y/N’s face was flushed as they stared at the floor. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes as Harvey treated the burn, wiping it down and then spreading petroleum jelly on it.

“...You didn’t think to call me?” He asked quietly, wrapping the burn loosely with the fresh bandage. He waited for a response, not fully expecting one.

“...I didn’t want to bother you…” They said softly. Harvey halted at that. He looked at them incredulously.

“You didn’t want to bother me, a doctor, who’s whole job is to treat people?” Their face blazed red.

“I don’t know! It was late, the clinic was already closed! And I… I thought I could deal with it myself…” They trailed off, brows furrowed.

Harvey sighed and finished wrapping the bandage. He began to unwrap the bandage around their middle, taking care to go slow. 

“Y/N, I am your doctor. Even when the clinic is closed, you can always call me and I’ll take care of you. It’s my job, and I’m happy to do it.” He finished unwrapping the bandage and assessed the wound. It was a decently sized gash. He retrieved some rubbing alcohol from his bag and began cleaning it. Y/N was silent.

“...I know I don’t know you very well, but you can come to me for anything. Doesn’t matter if it’s because you’re sick, or if you’re just in need of some company, I’m here for you, alright? My door’s always open.” He paused. “Well, at least til’ 3, then you’ll need to call me so I can let you in.” Y/N chuckled at that, making him smile. He finished cleaning the gash and put some petroleum jelly on it as well, then wrapped it in new bandages. 

“There, good as new!” He said, leaning back. “Your cut on your side was shallow enough to not need stitches. Your burn should heal in a couple weeks, as well as the cut.” He pulled out some pain medicine from his bag and handed the bottle to Y/N. “Take this once every 4 hours for your soreness. It should help.” 

“...Thanks, Harvey. For checking on me and everything.” They said, a soft smile on their face. Harvey returned the smile.

“Of course. What kind of doctor would I be if I let a member of the town go without treatment?” At that, the coffee machine beeped, making the two of them turn their heads.

“Oh, coffee’s done.” Y/N stood and put their shirt back on. They grabbed two mugs from the cabinet. “Are you able to stay for a cup? I know you still have to run the clinic and everything, but it wouldn’t be long if you’d like to stay.” They asked. Harvey mulled it over in his head. He probably should be getting back by now… But Maru was working today, and he left a note behind explaining where he was. Besides, one cup wouldn’t hurt, right?

He smiled. “That sounds lovely.” Y/N returned his smile and poured him and them a cup as he packed away his supplies and set his bag on the ground. They set his mug in front of him and sat down. He picked it up and took a sip, savoring the warmth and roast.

“So…” He said, catching Y/N’s attention. “What’s it like in the mines?” A grin spread across their face, their eyes lighting up.

“Well, it’s pretty awesome! The caves are beautiful! And there’s tons of ores and minerals, oh! And if you like fighting, that’s the place to go!” They kept talking, Harvey listening, taking occasional sips of his coffee.

One mug, turned into two, then three. And eventually the pot was empty, but they both kept sitting there, talking about any and everything. Eventually, Harvey had to bid them goodbye and head back to the clinic. 

As he walked past the bus stop, enjoying the breeze, he thought back to their smile and laughter as they told him about their adventures to the mines. He smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to see them again.

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Hello hello hellooooo !!! it's been awhile since I last wrote a fic huh?? This is my first time writing a Stardew fic too !! Hope yall liked it !! Ciao !!!

xoxoxoxo

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tagged people:

@dokoni-mo @minnieplier-blog @takashi747 @justsomedirt @kieropal @marvelluvv @0bs1d1ankn1ght @punkghost141

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Caught In The Spider's Web.

Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spiderverse).

Word Count: 2.8k.

TW: N0n///C0n, AFAB!Reader, Biting, Mentions of Blood, Implied Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Verbal Degredation, Slut-Shaming But In A Projection Way, and Choking.

“Get back here, qué perra!”

“Keep your voice down, we’re in a museum!” You called over your shoulder, chasing it with a breathless laugh before sparing a glance behind you, to where Miguel was still busy clawing through the layers of haphazardly laid webbing that were currently keeping his chest and arms pinned against the far wall of newly-emptied display. You saw his talons tear through the last of it before turning your attention forward – to the tall, narrow halls of the museum, or more specifically, to the stone archways spaced every twenty feet or so. With a wild grin and one last squeeze to the diamond-studded necklace around your neck, the strap of the rucksack weighing heavy against your back, you shot your webs toward the next archway and flew.

Or, swung, more accurately – with Miguel close on your heels. He was more experienced than you, more used to superhuman strength and animalistic agility and everything that happened when a radioactive spider took an interest in you, but no amount of refined skill could’ve measured up to your raw, unrestrained zeal, to the rush of adrenaline that came with every new heist, every new opportunity to use your new powers. Even in the confined space, you moved erratically; vaulting off of walls and falling into jagged nose-dives, never gaining any distance on Miguel but never letting him catch you, either. More than once, you felt his claws graze your back, heard his low growls and muffled cursing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to worry. Why would you? You were a superhero, now, even if you didn’t do many heroic things. You felt invincible. You were invincible – at least in that moment. At least before Miguel got his hands on you and put an end to your fun for the thousandth time. “Y’know, I really thought you’d be cool with this,” you went on, bouncing off of a display case a fraction of a second before he crashed into it, shattering the glass. “I’m like Robin Hood, dude!”

There was a half-snarled bark, a flash of red in your peripheral. You threw yourself to the left just in time to avoid a tendril of pulsing, luminescent webbing – earning yourself just enough time to shoot a playful wink back at him. He bared his teeth, in response. “Robin Hood gave to the poor. You just steal and cause anomalies.”

“I’d be poor if I stopped stealing!” Finally, you came to the room you were looking for – an open lobby with a domed, crystalline ceiling – a ceiling with a panel no one ever seemed to remember to lock. You’d left it open on your way in, and if you were lucky, you’d be able to slip out of it without alerting the guards posted at every other exit. After that, it was only a matter of losing Miguel in the dark city (you’d apparently been the only spider-people smart enough to skip the eye-bleedingly bright color scheme) and hiding a place to lay low in your own dimension. You’d have to come back in a few weeks to sell what you’d stolen, but that was something you could worry about later on. You’d earned your haul, tonight. “It’s been fun, Miguel, baby,” You let your swing go wide, vaulting yourself towards the ceiling and landing just underneath your escape hatch. You let yourself hang there for just a second longer than you could afford, flashing another smile toward Miguel before—

 Before you felt his webbing latch onto your lower back, wrenching you away from the domed ceiling and sending you plummeting downward before you could think to react. Your back hit the floor with enough force to crack the marble, your rucksack of stolen art and jewelry landing somewhere to your left and spilling open. With any chance of escaping Miguel gone and your latest haul scattered across the museum floor, you went limp, letting a pained groan slip past your lips. That was the thing about super-durability. The fall hadn’t broken every bone in your body, but your bones didn’t know that.

Miguel was bolting towards you in a second, on top of you in another. You managed to lift your arm, but your web-shooters only responded with a sad, dry grinding – out of ammo, because you always ran out of webbing at the worst times. His hand shot to his mask, his bared fangs catching in the dim light, but you raised your hands in surrender before he could bite down. “Hey, hey, you can save that for the thirst traps. I can spend the next twelve hours catatonic without your help.” With a heavy sigh, you collapsed, letting another wave of aching soreness wash over you before going on. “Take me home. I’m done for the night.”

It took him a few seconds to bite back his anger, to put on that stoic, put-together face you loved to tease him for. Pursed lips, narrowed eyes – all the things that’d fall away as soon as you got on his nerves. “You’re not getting off that easily, this time.”

“C’mon, Miguel, what do you think you’re going to do to me? Lock me in a cell for a couple days? Let your mega-spider bite me? Lecture me until I buy into your ‘great power comes with great responsibility’ bullshit?” Even exhausted and worn down, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. He made himself an easy target, and you’d always loved the taste of low-hanging fruit. “We both know how this works. You toss me around a little, tell me to spend more of my time saving orphaned puppies trapped in burning buildings, then send me back to my own dimension. Don’t tell me you’re gonna break our routine now.”

He didn’t answer, a pressed scowl pulling at the corners of his mouth as he worked off his mask. He hand dropped to the collar of your suit, and you let out another laugh, this one more nervous than the last. “Are you going to take my watch? You know I’ll just make another one when I get home.”

His fist wrapped around your stolen necklace, wrenching it off of you with enough force to snap the silver, jewel-studded chain and send rubies and sapphires scattering around you. You watched the precious gems clatter to the floor, mentally tallying up how much you could’ve gotten for each. Clearly, Miguel wasn’t as concerned with their value as you were. “You’re not going home.”

“Miguel, that’s not fun—”

“Say my name one more time and I swear I’ll—” He cut himself off with a throaty growl, turning his claws toward your chest. Before you could so much as think to panic, the front of your suit had been torn to tattered shreds, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to the open air and thrashing against the hand now wrapped around your neck, clawing at his wrist and kicking at his chest for all you were worth. If Miguel noticed your meager attempts at resistance, he didn’t seem fazed, didn’t feel the need to respond with anything more than a harsher glare, a straighter posture, a row of pointed nails driven that much deeper into the side of your throat. “Cállate. Just shut up and take what you deserve.”

The palm pressed into the base of your windpipe, a flash of sharpened teeth in the corner of your vision, and then, Miguel’s fangs were planted in your neck, his venom sent coursing through your veins. The feeling, while unpleasant, wasn’t alien to you. You were hyper-aware of your joints locking into place, your limbs going stiff and still, a heavy fog forming over the part of your brain that told the rest of your body to get up and fight. He pulled away before the numbness set in, before you could completely float into that void of immobile, oblivious existence, but when you tried to lift your arm, to kick at his chest, your body failed to respond. You cursed under your breath, glaring at Miguel, but he'd already moved on.

A gloved hand worked its way under the tattered remains of your suit, grazing over your lower stomach before cupping your cunt. It was the adrenaline, the high and the sudden let-down. Miguel must’ve known that, but it did little to dampen the condescension in his faint smirk as he collected your slick on his fingertips, swiping the pad of his thumb over your clit and drinking in the way your expression contorted. “Little slut,” he muttered, the scarlet shine of your blood still visible on his fangs. “You’re already soaked. Can’t let someone put their hands on you without dripping all over them, huh?”

You grit your teeth, doing what you could to swallow back a half-choked moan. “Stop,” And then, with more than a note of desperation in your voice, “This is a crime, you’re not supposed to—”

The air hitched in your throat as he brought his open palm down on your cunt – the blow rough, sudden, sharp. If you’d been able to, you would’ve gone stiff, would’ve lashed out, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t squirm, couldn’t do anything but hold your breath and stifle a pained moan as the first blow was followed by another, then another, then another, until your cunt was sore and throbbing, until there were tears forming in the corners of your eyes and Miguel was breathing heavily above you. “I told you to be quiet.” It was a hiss, more than anything. A threat he could carry out, but not say aloud. “I’d tell you not to make this worse for yourself, but you were always going to find a way to make this more difficult than it had to be.”

You moved to apologize reflexively, to beg him to let you go, but he clearly didn’t have an interest in anything you had to say. He was already shoving two fingers into your burning entrance, adding something else to the ache – not quite pleasure, but not as far as you needed it to be, either. Everything he did was rough, cruel, from the way he stretched you open to how much force he used while grinding the heel of his palm into your clit. Everything he did was less for your gratification and more for his own entertainment, for as humorless as he’d always seemed to you before. Miguel’s paralysis limited your reactions, stopped you from grinding into his hand or squirming underneath him, but it didn’t help to hide your expression, to stop you from biting your lips or rolling your head to the side, giving in to the baselessly hopeful part of your mind yelling that not looking at Miguel would make him leave. He only laughed, the noise low and dark and infinitely more than anything he’d ever given you, before. That made sense. Miguel had always struck you as the kind of man who could only let his guard down after he’d already broken through yours – this was just the first time he’d gotten the chance to prove you right.

Eventually, he pulled back, drawing an airy whimper from the base of your throat at the sudden lack of stimulation. There was a wet, distorted sound you couldn’t bring yourself to name, a fist wrapped around your arm, and then, he was turning you onto your chest, keeping your wrists pressed against your back with one hand while the other spread your thighs apart. You felt his cock, already hard, already thick enough to send a pang of dread to your core, against your ass, and suddenly, you were very aware of just how easily he towered over you, just how little effort it took for him to press his chest into your back and cage you underneath him. Even if you hadn’t been paralyzed, you didn’t know if you’d be able to do anything to get away from him. Not after you’d already been caught in his web.

“You’re going to cum on my cock,” You felt his lips against your ear, the low timbre of his voice reverberating in the back of your mind. “And you’re going to fucking thank me, when you do.”

There might’ve been more. There probably was, but whatever he said was drowned out by a dull, droning buzzing in your ears – a lifeless static that nearly blocked out the feeling of his hands on your hips, his knee nudging your legs apart, the leaking head of his cock resting against your entrance before he thrust into you, splitting you open in an instant.

He was so, so much bigger than you. Even with the fall, even with his venom, you could still feel so much of him, still couldn’t seem to block out the way your own dripping cunt struggled to clench down around the girth of his cock. You let out a fractured gasp but regretted it immediately, trembling as you struggled to inhale while feeling so impossibly full. There might’ve been blood. It was hard to tell with the slick dripping down your thighs, with Miguel lapping over the side of your throat. He sounded animalistic, growling as he rolled his hips and buried himself deeper in your core, his nails burrowing into your hips and mangling what was left of your poor, ruined suit. You’d have to make a new one, when you got back to your own dimension, when you got back to your tiny apartment already over-crowded with stolen art and half-finished projects. If Miguel ever let you go back.

“You’re tight for a little whore.” He made no effort to be gentle, to hold back, to do anything but bully your cunt, bruise your ass, leave you breathless and struggling just to keep yourself sane. “Must be a tease,” he went on, dropping a hand to your clit and rubbing circles into the abused bundle of nerves. “That’s it. Stealing everything you could get your hands on, wrecking the multiverse – that was just your way of getting my attention, huh? Bet you were just waiting for someone to pin you down and fuck you.”

You could feel your legs starting to shake, in spite of the paralysis. “Please, I can’t—”

“So fucking needy, too.” There was a deep laugh, an open-mouthed kiss pressed into the curve of your throat. “I’ll have to put a collar on you. Might catch you bending over for the first person you see if nobody knows who you— fuck, who you belong to.”

His pace had been punishing from the start, but at that, it turned brutal. You felt tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, a tight knot of tension forming deep in your core. His cock beat against something sensitive and vulnerable in your pussy and you screamed, a strangled moan tearing past your lips. “Please, Miguel, I need you to stop—"

Your voice gave out before you could finish, but that was all Miguel needed to hear. Before you could take it back, before you could bite your tongue and curse yourself for trying to say anything at all, his hand was on your neck, cutting off your oxygen supply and leaving you choking for air, leaving your cunt convulsing around him. “De nuevo.” It was a demand, an order. You were starting to wonder if he knew any other way to speak. “Say that again, before I change my mind and snap your neck.”

“Miguel.” Croaked, airy, only half-coherent. When his grip only grew tighter, you said it again, and again, and again, his name forming an incomprehensible mantra that played in-time with the pulsing in the back of your skull, in the walls of your pussy. You felt yourself clench around him, your vision burning white as either his cock or the lack of oxygen or some awful combination of the two vaulted you to a breath-stealing, mind-numbing climax – strong enough and blinding enough to leave you crashing on the downswing, plummeting into an infinite abyss of searing heat and overstimulation as soon as your climax gave out under his violent affection. Vaguely, you were aware of Miguel’s touch growing rougher, of his voice in your ear, of his cum flooding into your sore pussy. He made no attempt to pull out, but you weren’t surprised. You didn’t know if anything Miguel did could surprise you, anymore.

You were in a haze as Miguel drew back, nipping at the corner of your jaw one more time before finally letting you go. It wasn’t his venom keeping you still, anymore, but your own exhaustion – weighing you down as he lifted you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his chest. Through your eyelashes, your watched Miguel type something into his watch, a neon-shaded portal cutting through the fabric of reality a moment later. You tried to protest, to call on whatever hidden pocket of strength you still had and get away from him, but all you managed to do was squirm in his arms and let out a small, pathetic whine. Miguel responded by pressing his lips against your forehead, chuckling softly. As if this was funny to him. As if he found this cute. “Settle down. You have nothing to worry about.”

He smiled for the first time that night, and you felt something in the pit of your stomach crack.

“I’m taking you home.”

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Sunday

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact

wc: 6.7k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, subby/service top!hyunjin, softdom!camgirl reader, dry humping, oral (m, f), piv, camming, consensual recording, can't immediately think of anything else, let me know if I missed something!

Past Broadcasts : Hi, My Name Is

Live : Sunday

☆ﾟ

Hyunjin didn’t realize how much he liked being filmed, and photography in general. He seems to have picked up a knack for the hobby once the two of you started to get more comfortable. After the first night the two of you had sex, he began to be more conscious of all the recordable moments, from your puffy morning face to the cum dripping from the corner of your mouth.

You didn’t mind it at all, he was cute about it. Hyunjin had you send him the video you took together after you edited out the extra time at the end when the two of you had long forgotten about it. Never in a million years would he admit to anyone that he watches it more frequently than someone ever should watch their own amateur porn videos, for some reason it’s a comfort video of sorts. He likes hearing the way you laugh after the both of you cum, he likes seeing the way you handle him so carefully and how supple your skin looks because he knows it is.

Even though you’re still doing your streams, you still make time for him. Usually that time happens to be right after you’re done, Hyunjin on the bed watching as you pleasure yourself. The heat of his stare hasn’t dulled in the slightest. In fact, it’s brought your on-camera orgasms back. It’s all the more exhilarating knowing that none of your viewers can see his stupidly handsome face ogling you with a hand around his cock, hard only for you.

That routine had set itself in stone after a month went by, which is why you were comfortable when he asked if he could use your computer to look up a recipe to print.

“Why can’t you use your phone? It has bluetooth,” you suggested initially.

“Y’know the preview screen? I like to read it to make sure that all the information is on there. I can’t do that on my phone,” Hyunjin replied.

It made sense at the time, that’s why you agreed to let him use the computer in your showroom, the same one you use for your livestreams. Never in a million years did you think you’d catch him sitting in your chair with his pants around his ankles jerking off to the same video that sparked his interest in filming.

The first thing you checked was that the light near the computer camera was off and that he wasn’t accidentally live, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth seeing the light off. There was a fat grin across his face, sweaty and more than relaxed in your chair. On the monitor was the image of you on your knees just as he tensed up and from what you could tell, orgasmed. The look of surprise on your face as you caught him had him cumming into his palm, as if he wasn’t in your house, sitting in your chair, using your computer. It didn’t even seem like he cared that he got caught– spoiler, he really didn’t care.

Hyunjin was incomparably comfortable around you and in your little bubble. There wasn’t anything he didn’t think he could talk to you about. All of the little things and kinks he thought were strange, you accepted with open arms. Getting caught jacking off to a video of you giving him head was probably one of the least strange things on that small list.

You had gotten down on your knees again and sucked him through to a second orgasm, not an entirely uncommon occurrence now that he was a semi-permanent resident in your heart and apartment. He had hunched over you, one hand on the back of your head keeping you in place as you deepthroated his cock, the other, from what you could tell, slammed onto the desk above you and gripping onto it for dear life. It was your big pretty eyes and the small hum onto his cock that made him cum again, another one so hard that he didn’t notice his hand sliding across the desk roughly and hitting your keyboard, which then slammed into the mouse. Of course you couldn’t hear the sound of the cam site’s whooshing as the same video that played in the background was also being uploaded onto your page.

Creatures of habit, the both of you were, sharing a shower and eating dinner together still wrapped in your bath robes with towels wrapping your sopping hair. Neither of you had checked your phone in maybe two hours when you finally realized there was an incessant pinging noise coming from your showroom. It had reminded Hyunjin that his phone was nearby and reached to check it before you finally stood to go find out what was happening.

“When did you post a new video?” He asked, shaking the towel into his hair. You shrugged without looking back, on to find the source of the annoying notifications.

Your computer was still on, red flag number one.

Red flag number two, your keyboard and mouse were askew all over your desk. Your first instinct was that someone broke into your apartment while you were showering and they were hacking your account– it does, afterall, have your bank account info so that the tips can go directly into it.

But as you sat down to look at what was going on, you would rather have been robbed. Mouth dropped and heart thumping out of your chest, replaying on your cam page was the video of you between Hyunjin’s knees and head bobbing up and down with his quiet moans echoing in the computer speakers.

Just as you realized what had happened, your partner in said video fumbled into the door way and held up his phone. You couldn’t see the screen from that far, but you knew exactly what he was referring to.

“I didn’t–”

“You wouldn’t–”

“I don’t know what happened–”

“When the fuck did it get uploaded?” Hyunjin strode by your side and leaned over your desk to check the timestamp. You watched his face and prepared for any kind of anger, readying for the worst, bracing for impact that he was going to fight to take the video down then grab his shit and hyperdrive right out of your life. Instead, his eyebrows relaxed and a kind of smug half smirk took over his expression. “Oh, my bad, hahaha.”

You raised a brow at him, nothing but dumbfounded. “What?”

“Well,” he rubbed the towel into his hair again. “You were under the desk, so you couldn’t really see.”

“You posted it when your dick was in my mouth?”

“Not on purpose!” Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your neck in a headlock to smother his cheek against yours. “I can’t really focus when your mouth is so warm, wet, sloppy, delicious–”

“Ew, I get it!” Giggling, he pecked your lips then gestured for you to stand up so he could take your seat, patting his thighs to sit in his lap. A light pout on your lips, you took the offer and slung an arm over his shoulder.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were slightly embarrassed at how easy it was for you to get caught like this. Nothing has ever happened in all your time of camming that would have made you feel so exposed. It was a private moment that you assured him was for your eyes only. Embarrassed was a nice way of putting it, you were ashamed, guilty, remorseful even.

“I have to take it down,” you shook your head and reached for the mouse, but Hyunjin stopped you by intertwining your fingers together. “What? You didn’t agree to this. I promised it was just for us. I’m so sorry.” There was a lump in your throat, having to swallow it down while fighting the tears wanting to roll.

Hyunjin seemed unphased, maybe even… enjoying it? He was smiling into your shoulder. “Why are you making that face? I’m crying and you look like you just got away with murder.”

He took a second to respond, laughing softly into the bathrobe you wore. “Stop it! I need to take it down!” He fought you harder as you struggled in his grasp to even reach the mouse, arms slithering around and restricting you entirely with hardly any force as he was just that much stronger.

When you finally calmed down enough for him to lightly nose at your cheek again, you huffed. “I dunno, babe. Is it really so bad if we keep it up?”

You stopped fighting him back, “you wanna keep it up?” Hyunjin shrugged shyly.

“A little. Look, other people like it, too.” He reached around you to scroll through the comments.

Reading your comment section was usually a highlight that you saved for some down days. The ones under your video with him was even more ego-boosting than usual. There were keyboard smashes, people asking when they can have a turn with you cus he looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, even legit offers in your inbox for higher level filming services. Hyunjin would scroll, point to one, and you’d giggle in his lap.

— sexy wuts his @?

— sounds so good with her mouth stuffed

— i want him?? i want her?? u guys need a third??

“Look at this one, ‘I’d pay for a silicone mold of sweetheart’s mouth.’”

Hyunjin grabbed your chin and made you twist to face him, opening your mouth to look inside as you wiggled your tongue. “Yup. Could definitely make money selling a pocket if it was shaped like this wonderful, glorious, gummy—“

“You’re disgusting! I don’t even think that’s possible.”

“Yeah, you’d swallow the molding, you’re too good at that.” 

The light smack you sent to his shoulder made him smile and cheekily kiss you. It was like he was starved for kisses with how intensely he moved, far from the truth as possible. Hand slipping to cup your cheek and the other slyly moving the robe to expose your thigh enough that it made you pull away and raise and eyebrow. “You really don’t wanna take the video down?”

Hyunjin scrunched his nose, “hell no. It kinda makes me wanna… Should I make my own account?”

Your face lit up, “really?” Another shrug. “I mean, you’ve already got a few fans and they’re asking for more. But babe, it could be a lot. Are you sure?”

“Maybe? I haven’t really thought about it. It wasn’t even an idea in my head until I saw the comments. But I do like taking videos and pictures. I’m not totally sure I could do the live stream stuff like you. Gotta leave you sooome business.”

“I don’t think you should jump right into it, maybe dip your toes in first before hopping in the deep end. Would you wanna try guesting on my stream first?”

“Like, actually be on your live?!”

You forgot how the two of you met in the first place, that he recognized you because he was a fan of your cams. Not for a second did you stop to think that it might’ve been weird because everything with him happened so naturally. Well, he did make it weird at first, and truly had you anxious to even go to the grocery store– but that was because you were too in your head about being recognized in the first place. When you actually spoke to him, you realized that’s just him and his awkward way of showing his emotions. You didn’t doubt for a second that even if he didn’t recognize you, he would’ve found a way to wriggle into your life at some point in time. Part of you mentally slapped yourself for not going to his coffee shop sooner.

“Why not? Then you don’t have to start alone,” you wriggled free to wrap an arm around his neck again. “For me, I contemplated it for months. I can’t remember when I started, it was so long ago–”

“I think it’s been, like, almost a year and a half.”

You lightly slapped the back of his neck, “don’t interrupt me, I’m trying to be sincere.” A peck on your cheek as an apology. “But it was scary at first. Remember what I said about intimacy  the first time I brought you back here?”

Silence.

“You can speak now.”

“How could I forget? That’s permanent spank bank material. Stored in the mental vault for when you’re not with me.” Charming as ever.

You rolled your eyes. “It feels like that. Instead of one person watching, it’s a whole audience.” If the twitch beneath your thighs was anything to go by, you’d say the look on his face was a nearly identical giveaway. “The offer stands if you wan–”

“I want to.”

After a long, detailed discussion, you finally agreed your next livestream would be the night, and you got him naked. Or— you finally let him get naked. Hyunjin was still in his underwear, but it was enough for him.

You moved things around so that the camera faced the bed, adjusting the tripod to a lower angle so that no faces could show. For this special occasion, you put on dainty white sheets that made the bed feel bigger on this end of the camera. Hyunjin adjusted the lighting for a warmer feeling, inviting. That alone made you want to skip the broadcast and fuck him right then and there.

Hyunjin was shaking in his skin with excitement. You told him to lay back and try to relax as you set everything up. Seeing you walking around in pretty little lingerie was getting him antsier as the seconds passed, wanting nothing more than to reach out, grab you, and kiss you silly.

He was leaning back on his palms and swinging his feet back and forth as you finished, last touch being turning the computer so if you wanted, you could watch yourselves. 

You were bent over and reading the comments of the people in the live stream waiting room, “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: sunday.” The stare burning holes into your ass made you giddy and smile.

“Everyone in the comments is confused since I don’t usually go live today,” you giggle, straightening up and facing the boy in your bed. He looked extra handsome, for some reason, more than usual. Maybe it was the hormones or the anticipation, probably your insatiable need to have him all the fucking time. Even if today didn’t go as planned and you don’t have sex, you’d be content with just laying beside him and getting to look at his pretty face. 

“I would be, too. Can I have a kiss now?”

“Impatient.” You gave him one anyway, slotted between his spread knees to lean down and plant a soft, velvety kiss to his lips. Hyunjin slid a beneath your butt to hold you close, the other gripped onto your hip restraining from doing more before the camera was finally turned on. He wanted to go further as his tongue licked at your bottom lip in asking for entrance, a whine emitting when you pulled away to deny the request. 

“You can always back out. At any time. You don’t have to say anything, just get up and leave.”

Hyunjin wasn’t listening to anything you were saying, you could tell by the glossy-eyed look he had as you brushed his hair from his face. His eagerness was contagious, you were on the verge of leaning in to kiss him again because of your own selfish needs, however the pinging of your computer’s five minute warning made you glance back before continuing.

“I’m serious, Hyune. We don’t have to do this. Tell me now and I’ll cancel the live.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He teased, tugging you tighter.

“I do this for a living, I’m fine. I just don’t want you to regret any—“

Within a quick second, he pulled you to fall into his lap to be taken in with a deeper, hotter kiss that made you forget that there was a timer counting down his showcase. “Okay, I’ll shut up now.”

A minute and thirty seconds, you straightened yourself out and settled into a more comfortable position for the introduction. That was going to be the hardest part, explaining the video that was accidentally posted and now, this brand new guest that wasn’t even another streamer. Hyunjin was an unknown— either the reaction was going to be through the roof, or astronomically terrible.

Fourth five seconds, you anxiously changed positions again and had him scoot a little further back on the bed to sit between his legs. Instinctively Hyunjin leaned his chest onto your back, draping an arm around your waist. “Relax, we’ll be okay.”

We.

3, 2, 1. hardcandysweetheart, you are now live!

“Hey there, did you see my little surprise?”

There was another twitch in his pants against your lower back, you silenced your own panting lungs, the small action more than enough to soothe the worries you had.

“I think you liked it, so much that I just had to invite him back for more.” Your body moved slightly to the side and made room for Hyunjin to wave. As he did, you leaned in to quietly place a reassuring kiss to his cheek, to which he returned happily. 

You could faintly make out the comments scrolling by faster than you could attempt to read. “You’re excited, huh? It’s been a while since there’s been someone I wanted to bring on. This one’s special.” His hand massaged into your side, acknowledging the passing words and his heart thumping harder.

Hyunjin almost forgot that you were livestreaming, more than immersed in your voice that he fell into some sort of trance, hearing but not listening, relying purely on what he could see and feel. And that was you. His gaze only on you, unable to look anywhere else as that spell had goosebumps raising along his skin when you did nothing but touch his thigh. 

“Look at that, I think he’s more than ready to go. Practically drooling, aren’t you, baby?”

“Mhm,” he nuzzled his nose into your cheek, trying to hold back from his usual affections so as not to give too much away so quickly, and finding it difficult.

“He’s very obedient,” your voice lowered an octave, reaching back to cup his cheek and trail a finger down his neck to his chest, a red line following the same path. “Like a pet. Just follows me around, wherever I go.” Hyunjin whimpered, just a little, but enough for the audio to pick it up. “Hey now, be good for our guest. No begging.”

He kissed your cheek again, an apology.

Turning your attention back to the comments, “so sorry, lovely. I wanna ask you how your day went, but someone is a little too enthusiastic to get started. I hope you don’t mind, I’m still training him. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” he responded softly.

“His voice is so pretty. I know you’ll enjoy tonight’s stream, maybe even as much as I do.”

Your legs spread, hooking them over his knees and leaning back into his hold. Hyunjin’s hands started roaming everywhere they could, emphasizing his neediness by digging his fingers into the insides of your thighs and pulling them that much wider. Automatically they trickled their way down to your center, gently running the pads of his fingers over the gusset of your underwear. Even you could tell, it was incredibly wet, the aroma of your arousal filling the room. 

Glancing at the monitor, his frame overshadowed yours by what seemed like miles. Hyunjin’s broad shoulders shielded your back and you couldn’t help but relax further into him.

Hardly even there, he pushed into your center, drawing a small gasp from your lips. The small circles he traced sparked the need to buck your hips up and into him.

His mistake for laughing, you slapped his hand away to stand and shove him back onto the bed. The view of your ass covered his face from showing, but if watchers could see, they’d see him teething at his lip to hold back a victorious smile, as if it was his plan all along to get you to bite back. Hyunjin raked his eyes up and down your body before putting his hands behind his head.

Another strike.

“You think you’re gonna get to sit there like a pillow princess? D’you really think I’m gonna do all the work?”

The smile faded faster than it came.

Climbing onto his lap and straddling his hips, the camera got the perfect shot of your soaked crotch and the underside of his raging boner twitching in his underpants even more when you slammed both your hands onto the bed on either side of his head. Hyunjin flinched, but he wasn’t scared. More like turned on beyond belief.

“Little pet,” one finger tipped up his chin to close his awestruck dropped jaw. He could feel the heat of your cunt radiating through the wet material, suffocating in it when your hips softly landed right on top of his cock. Even through both of your underwear, the feeling of you on him was enough to turn the tables and he rut up into you.

The nickname, the finger lightly scratching under his jaw, everything down to the intonation when you spoke to him made Hyunjin forget there was a camera on the both of you. Aside from the very obvious seriousness of the act of sex itself and every other time the two of you had been together, this moment felt intensely more intimate. He couldn’t quite put his finger on as to why that was. The concerns you voiced before echoed in the back of his mind, though there wasn’t a single doubt that he had in wanting to continue.

The small fact that you cared enough to keep asking and keep reassuring that he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want, made his entire body heat up. Sure, the bar was on the floor. But it wasn’t just this one instance, you were persistent in making sure he was comfortable, and Hyunjin was grateful that the sentiment was returned in his efforts to help you learn about your own relationship needs outside of sex. Such a miniscule thing to be in love with, but it was his deal breaker. Call him a simp, but you had his balls tied in a heart shaped knot. 

You sat on top of him with an almost unimpressed look, letting him continue to hump against your warm cunt. Determination clouded the horniness as you tilted your head. The truth was that that alone felt remarkably good, keeping up the facade was one of the hardest things you had to do. To fight the impulse to moan, you steadied yourself and sat up straight, looking down at Hyunjin while his hands iron gripped onto your hips. The strength he held onto you almost was close to toppling you over.

Instead, you gave in just a little and sat fully. Hyunjin’s tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth, adjusting his knees and bumping you up to stabilize himself as the dragging of his covered cock slide against the wet friction of one another’s underwear. Sweat dripped down his temple and soaked his hairline, rolls of his hips took a full bodily effort. His abdomen moved in waves and gave you a preview of what it would look like when the underwear finally came off, delicious enough to rake your fingernails from his collarbone to his waistline, Hyunjin’s eyes rolling back as you did.

“Mmf– please, please,” he whimpered, becoming more erratic as the seconds passed. He dryly humped upwards so rough now that you were just about bouncing.

“Please what?” His hands slipped below the waistband of your panties and drug it half down your ass. “Use your words.”

“Fuck, need you.”

“Need me? Okay, pet.” 

With that, you abruptly stood up– not without a barrage of pleas and whines– and made room for him to hurriedly slide off the bed and kneel on the floor in front of you as you took his spot. If he had a tail, it’d be swinging back and forth.

You checked the camera’s view just in case, but it saw nothing but the back of his head, at the most. As he told you in earlier discussion, he was fine with that. The view of his back muscles made your mouth water that much more as it contrasted with the puppy dog look he was giving you now, waiting.

“So polite, baby.” You had barely moved to slide off your underwear when Hyunjin jumped at the chance, rushing it down your legs and tossing it to expose your dripping core.

If it was even possible, his eyes widened to the point of total blackness, determination now tainted with the lust that had driven him to this point in the first place. He’d never realized this side of him ever existed, this carnal desire and rapacious thirst to be suffocated in every aspect by a single person. He wanted to consume each bit of you down to the bone. Pick you apart just so he could thoroughly examine and ingrain every nerve and fiber that made you whole. This intense feeling, he never wanted it to end.

His hair was soft as you ran your fingers through it, playing with it for the viewers to see how good he was, waiting for permission like a true pet companion. Tongue running along his lips, he palmed at himself again and shifted uncomfortably in his spot.

“Go on. You wanted me, so have me.”

Spreading your legs wider, you didn’t have to work very hard to get him to dive into you head first. He was so overly excited that he moaned at the first taste of your pussy, dragging his tongue uncoordinatedly while shoving himself as close to you as possible.

As soon as his tongue touched your clit, you figured it was time to forgo worrying about how the stream looked and just let yourself fall into the feeling. Hooking your legs over his shoulders let Hyunjin sink his teeth further into you, or, more like his tongue slipping further down to prod at your hole and circle it before entering. Even if it couldn’t reach far in, the wiggling motion had your head falling back and moaning out. Voicing how pleased you were made Hyunjin reciprocate and mumble into your swollen cunt, vibrating every inch. 

Skin sensitive and needier than you wanted to let on, you were torn between satisfying yourself and putting him in his place.

But he was being good, the thought still crossed your mind no matter how well he was performing.

Being on live camera seemed to have sparked an even bigger submissive role Hyunjin wanted to fill, goading you into keeping a hand on the back of his head so that he had little room to breathe. As if he wanted to be put in his place.

Digging your heels into his back to secure him in place between your legs seemed to have given him the feeling he wanted– to be used.

Your hips canted into his mouth, not needing to chase his lips but wanting more of the suction, more of his tongue, more of the feeling. Like a freshly lit fire burning wildly in the center of your body and he was the dry wood and oxygen that kept it alive. Funny how that was when just looking at him takes your breath away.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms under your thighs to grip onto the tops of them, fingernails digging deeply into your skin to which you didn’t mind at all, the pain felt good with the pleasure. As you became louder, he did, too. His soft humming, lips suckling in your clit, tip of his tongue wiggling against it lightly as he did so, cumming was guaranteed as soon as he took your underwear off. And fuck, did it feel extra good.

Eye rolling, muscle tensing, vision blinding, chill inducing, voice numbing, leg twitchingly good.

You slouched over him as you came down, still partially aware of the green light blinking on your computer keeping you on camera. Hyunjin softly kissed your sensitive bundle of nerves to ease the comedown, mumbling what you think was praise when it should be you praising him for what was for sure his best round of head yet.

“I take it back,” you breathed out with a chuckle, and Hyunjin shot his head up to look at you with confusion. “I think I should put in some work for how amazing that just was.”

Hyunjin lopsidedly smirked, the view even cuter because your essence was smeared around his entire lower face.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. Maybe you don’t need as much training as I thought.”

You tapped his shoulder so he could scoot back and make room for you to stand. Hyunjin followed brief instructions to get onto the bed once more, laying down and ready for his underwear to finally come off. You rid yourself of the rest of your lingerie first, tossing the bra at him and laughing, just the littlest bit mocking when he brought it to his mouth to bite on. Stealing it away, you scolded, “nuh uh. I want them to hear you when I fuck you.”

“When you fuck me?”

The way you phrased it intimidated him a little, but also excited him. The prospect of getting fucked by you was something he’d never even thought would come out of your mouth let alone actually happen. He’d always thought that, traditionally, men should be the ones doing the fucking, that it was his job to cross that finishline with him putting in the effort. Hyunjin didn’t even know how this was a possibility, but he was more than ready for whatever you decided to do to him.

“Don’t worry, I’m saving the strap for another day. I don’t wanna scare you off so quickly.” All of that sentence and none of that sentence registered in his brain. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

Repressing the endeared smile on your face wasn’t an option. It was one of the rawest emotions you’d shown him yet, and being so open about it had Hyunjin’s heart doing somersaults into his belly, all of him fluttering on cloud nine. 

Your body covering his entire body including his face from the camera, you kneeled onto the bed between his legs and hovered over him to finally kiss him. Really kiss him, the way he’d been craving all night. The kind of kiss that murmured the words your lips didn’t know how to, unconditional and safe, hands so delicately open as he placed his entire heart into them.

Amidst his mind being blown with just a kiss, you snaked your hand into the waistline of his underwear and dryly– aside from all the leaking precum– stroked him until he whined to rid them. Condom placed on the edge of the bed for convenience, you were gentle in rolling it on, gentle in maneuvering to toss one leg over his hip, and gentle in taking his left leg into the crook of your arm.

All across the board, Hyunjin was confused. 

What in the hell kind of position was this? He had never seen you do this in any of your previous cams? Was there even a name for the pretzel he felt tied into? That’s an exaggeration, he’s just never been bent like this before. Now he gets how you must feel.

Your right thigh was locked under his to keep the position in something like a scissor looking kind. In his mind, it was odd, for sure. But he happily went with it because he knew you wouldn’t lead him anywhere he wouldn’t want to go.

One more soft, shared kiss, you scooted a bit higher up his body– straining his elevated leg a little because he didn’t think he needed to stretch beforehand– and settled directly over his aching cock. He hadn’t been properly touched since he’d gotten you completely naked and was in dire need of attention. Your hips dropped and he was sinking into you with nothing but slick and very much wanted entrance. Hyunjin felt strange, a wonderful and thrilling kind of strange that came from the new position and new atmosphere surrounding the both of you.

As you came to the hilt, he thought, “dear god, why didn’t you fuck me earlier?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think you would like it this much.”

His eyes widened to realize that he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. Hyunjin also didn’t realize how much time had passed since he had entered you and drool was dripping from the corner of his mouth. You didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

How could you be? You had an earth shattering orgasm and now got to fuck the most amazing and understanding person you know. And get to repay the favor with an extraordinary orgasm for him? You must have died and gone to heaven.

“Oh god, please keep going.”

An excited smirk, you experimentally moved your hips back and slid yourself off his cock, sinking back onto it as if you were the one penetrating. Hyunjin’s eyes rolled back and he groaned loudly. Music to your ears, you sped up just a little so that the bed rocked.

On your end, this was the ideal position. Every slide up and down his cock rubbed the under and inner part of your clit just the right way that you felt it in your legs. Hyunjin reached out to hold onto you, but couldn’t find the strength to hold on for very long before reaching a hand up to steady himself against the headboard.

You wanted more, needed more. Slinging his leg over your shoulder gave you more room to move freely, fuck him harder, faster until all that could be heard was skin on skin and wetness drowning his cock with every thrust. He loved everything about it and was doing whatever he could to suppress the impending high. Hyunjin wanted to cum, but didn’t want the moment to end even more.

“S– stop, stop,” he stuttered and held a hand out towards where your bodies connected. You cowered back and pulled him out in fear that he had changed his mind. Every negative thought you’d previously had about the situation came flooding back. That was, until he panted out a dreamy sigh, “don’t wanna cum yet. But please, fuck me harder.”

Endearing in every sense of the word.

“Because you said please.”

To give him a second to recuperate, you gently laid his leg back down and kissed his cheek. Then he gave you the okay once again, and changed to lifting both his legs around your waist. Hyunjin anticipatingly chuckled when you guided his cock to point a little more downward as you let him fill you, leaning your weight onto your arms that planted beside his head and letting him wrap his arms beneath the underside of your shoulders.

The steady rolls of your hips was exhilarating, scratching the itch that you didn’t know needed to be scratched, so satisfying that he face palmed himself for not thinking of it earlier.

You rested yourself on top of him so you were chest to chest, selfishly being a bit lazy because you wanted to taste his pretty lips once more. You knew the view for the stream was more than enough, probably too personal for Hyunjin’s first time camming, however he didn’t seem to mind. The camera being on was probably what made his senses skyrocket.

What a funny little attention whore.

You caught your rolling hips turning into harder slams, stronger and stronger with every slap of skin to skin. Hyunjin tightened his legs around your torso and kissed you back sloppier, uncoordinated as his high approached. He used the momentum of your movements to rut up to meet your center in time. Who was fucking who now, neither of you could tell nor care. 

His unfiltered moans of euphoria were too cute to keep for yourself, pulling away from the kiss as he came nearer and nearer to the edge. By the time you’d felt the knot tightening in your belly, Hyunjin was summoning whatever self control he had left to not blow before you.

“‘M gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you whispered, letting your forehead fall into the crook of his neck and bite onto the supple skin. Messy and carelessly you fully weighted slammed your hips onto his as your cunt fluttered with the overflowing pleasure, sealing both your fates when you stopped entirely and let the pulsing within you milk you both for whatever you could collectively release. Hyunjin’s coarse voice filled the air as he fought the urge to say your real name, settling for unintelligible fibs while he filled the condom to the point of bursting. You couldn’t stop the convulsing of your hips that shallowly made you both shudder in overstimulation.

A ringing in your ears and warmth of his arms tightening around your waist, you wanted to shut your eyes and fall asleep just like this. But there was the growing sound of tips pinging to replace the previous adulterous noises and bring you both back to reality.

You kissed his chest before sitting up and kissing his lips, as delicately as possibly pulling away and letting him relax into the bed. The shaking in your legs made it almost impossible to turn and face your body towards the camera once more.

“What’d you think? Wasn’t his voice just to die for? Always so sweet.” Your eyes glazed over the rapidly scrolling comment section, unable to focus long enough to truly read any of them. Hyunjin didn’t even move, probably worn down to the bone. “I think our guest enjoyed himself. I know I surely did, and I hope you did, too, lovely. Let me know what you think, should he join us again some time? Maybe it’s time to wash up. Take care, lovely. Until next time.” You waved your fingers, paused a second, and ended the live with the comments still rolling. Not in the right mind to read them, you put your computer to sleep and crawled into bed beside the dozing man.

Hyunjin fought to keep his eyes open, too exhausted for his own good. You looked him up and down to assess his state– condom still on so you helped take it off him, limbs bent and tired as you assisted in stretching them to lay flat. The last step was taking him into your actual bed. No way were you letting him sleep in this icky, sweaty bed.

“No shower yet, Hyune. Just bed. Can I help you up?” He hazily nodded and allowed you to drape his arm over your shoulder so you could guide him back to your bedroom.

As soon as you had him beneath the covers and his head hit the pillow, he softly mewled and reached his arms out for you to take your rightful place within them. Then, he was out like a light. 

Soft snores and his heartbeat were all you could hear. There was nothing else you deemed worth the effort to think other than, people are only temporary for as long as they choose to be.

He couldn’t be more excited, the pleaser he is, Hyunjin was shaking in his skin as he watched the timer count down the seconds.

“Relax, baby. I’ll be right here if you need me,” you leaned back into your chair that sat out of sight of the camera, half naked as well to make it less nerve wracking. Phone in hand to monitor all of the comments of the people in the waiting room, this was a highly anticipated event in your extremely small circle. This was everything and anonymously nothing, but thrilling either way. “Have fun.”

Hyunjin weighed his options between the thirty seconds he had left and the need to get one more kiss. He chose the latter, skipping up to you and taking in your lips with unexaggerated passion. “For good luck.”

3, 2, 1. i.scream.sundae, you are now live!

“Oh, hello. Have we met before?”

☆ﾟ

A/N: unsure of the positions within the story? look here!

and that's it for this mini series! took me so fucking long to finish but ya know life happens. hope it was ehh maybe worth it. thank you for reading!

tags: @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star @like-a-diamondinthesky @karivm

[calliopesdiary]

hola!! would you be able to write a one shot with your first date with remus? maybe you’re both a little shy and nervous and just trying so hard to impress one another and there’s a lot of blushing and cute moments :)

hii! ofc, lovely! (screaming cause i got my first request 🥳🥳)

—•—

Check Yes, Juliet

synopsis: when Marlene sets two polar opposites up to go on a date

contents: fem!reader, reader likes bows, badboy!remus, just cute adorable idiots in love (:, mentioned dorlene!, readers favorite color is red

warnings: none!

a/n: this fic is inspired by the song “Check Yes, Juliet” by We The Kings! thanks for requesting!

“MARLS… ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” you ask from your position in front of your mirror, carefully tying red ribbon into your hair.

“of course it is, y/n. he’ll love you! besides, opposites attract!” Marlene assured you, carefully applying red lipstick to her plush lips.

“i was a little… hesitant when Pandora insisted I go on a date with Dorcas, y’know, cause we were so different. but look at us— we’re about to hit our eight months!”

you nodded silently, checking yourself out in the mirror before finishing your eyeliner.

once Marlene had gotten picked up from your shared flat, you laced up your shoes and got your things together.

and that’s when you heard the knock.

the special knock.

the knock you had been waiting three days for.

your hand nervously gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.

“hi.”

“hi.”

you didn’t mean to say “hi” in unison, now what do you say? crap he was supposed to say hi first and then—

“you look gorgeous.”

you got broken out of your thoughts, your eyes hitting his with an awkward gaze.

“me?”

he chuckled, “who else would i be talking to?”

“o-oh, right, o-of course.” you blushed out of embarrassment.

you could cue some crickets here, you could tell he was nervous, you’ve never seen the resident bad boy so nervous.

“these are for you.”

he held out a bouquet of luscious roses, red, your favorite color.

“w-wow… Remus… these are beautiful…”

“just like you.” his cheeks lit up in a rosy shade, almost as if a painter had graced him with his paintbrush.

he’d definitely rehearsed that.

you let out a soft giggle, before stepping out the front door and walking with him to his car.

you guys ended up going to this adorable vintage diner near his house, you felt like you could talk to him for hours, except you were so nervous.

he even paid for the food, he paid! (even though the guy should totally pay on first days but that’s just me 🤷‍♀️)

“don’t worry, darlin’, i’ll pay”

“Remus i was gonna pay—“

“shh, keep sipping on your slushy” you blushed, you needed to get this blushing problem under control.

“so, do you have any hobbies?”

sweet of him to ask, but you felt as if you were a bit basic.

“oh, i play electric guitar so.. i guess that’s my hobby, what about you?”

you smiled, god he already loved your smile, it was so sweet, especially since your tongue was red from the cherry slushy you had been sipping on.

“you play guitar? sick!— i mean— cool.. i play bass.”

“bass? i’ve always wanted to play bass!— i mean— that’s super cool, maybe we can play together sometime?” you were quick to get flustered by your own words.

damn, you were being bold.

“i’d like that.”

he tossed some stones into the river underneath the bridge you guys had found, your legs dangling gently off the edge as you sipped on your slushy.

“do you read at all?” you asked, reading being one of your most favorite things.

“i do— actually.”

“really?

“i know it seems unlikely, but yeah, i do.”

“well.. what are your favorites?”

“it’s hard to choose, but i’ve always liked the classics— you know, like.. Romeo and Juliet.”

“Remus, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you, the coolest guy in town, reads Romeo and Juliet.” he let out a chuckle.

“it’s true.” he shrugged, flashing his signature grin at you.

“do… you have a favorite?”

and just like that you both had spent quite a few hours just sitting on that bridge and talking, you never thought it could really get better than that.

“i know we already talked about hobbies, but have you got any more?”

“i mean— i skateboard, ”

“you skateboard?! damn, i’m really trying to make myself sound cool here but you aren’t helping.” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

“oh come on, it’s skateboarding, it’s not that cool…” Remus itched his neck sheepishly.

“i’m sure there has to be something cool about you.” he teased, his big hand ruffling your hair.

“i don’t know what that could possibly be.” you shrugged.

“well… you wear these beautiful bows everytime i see you walking down the street, and you told me that you like to stay up all night and play video games.” he remembered everything..

“that’s not cool, that’s being a loser.”

“you are about the farthest thing from a loser, y/n.”

you froze a bit, that was so… sweet.

“t-thanks.” you blushed, again. (no surprise)

“i’ll have to teach you how to skate, though.”

“i’d love that.”

the drive back to your apartment was nothing short of a dream, music blasting, turns out you both had similar music taste.

“billy joel has to be a gift from the heavens.” you remarked loudly, your hair blowing in the breeze, the top down on his convertible.

“i can play uptown girl on guitar!” he responded, a wide smile on his face.

“really?”

“yeah!” the excitement in his voice made you blush almost the same color as your slushy.

“that’s so cool!”

he smiled wider, looking over to you, your pretty face lit up with street lights.

“i write poetry.” you confessed, you’ve definitely come out of your shell.

“you need to show me, sometime.” he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

“i… had a great time with you today.” you were so smiley.

“i had a great time with you, too.”

as the gentleman Remus John Lupin was, he walked you to your door.

“i guess this is goodbye.” he sighed lightly, not really wanting his night to end with you.

“thanks for.. everything—“

before you could even finish speaking, his lips were on yours.

your brain imploded, your eyes fluttering shut into the soft kiss Remus had just blessed you with.

your lips tasted of cherry and lip gloss, but he really didn’t mind. his nimble hands crept to your waist as your hands fell to his shoulders. just before he pulled away.

“i’ll see you around, Juliet.”

you smiled at the given nickname, blushing at the suddenness of that kiss still.

“bye, Romeo.”

he chuckled, before quickly walking down the hallway.

Marlene was right, opposites attract.

[jarofstyles]

Sugar, Sugar 13

Hey… sorry it’s been so long angels 😭 here you go!! I hope you missed them as much as I did.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings

Sugar Sugar masterlist

WC- 3.1k

warnings- mentions of disordered eating and bad relationship with food, body issues, fad diet mention, bad relationship with a parent, body shaming, etc

--------

“So, spill. How was it?” Delilah asked as she eyed Y/N. 

“How was what?” Playing coy behind the counter, she did the initial cash wrap check as she avoided her best friend’s eyes. She knew exactly what she was talking about. 

“Getting railed half to death.” She deadpanned, making Y/N choke on her laughter. “Don’t play games with me, girl. I can see your literal glow.” She paused, her eyes moving south. “And your man has a nasty habit of biting you.” He did. Y/N knew exactly where the hickey was on her collarbone, but her wrap she had on over her lacy tank top usually hid it. She was just careless this morning and didn’t think about it being on display. 

“He is quite bad with that, isn’t he?” She snorted, turning to her friend with giddy light in her eyes. “Great. Better than I expected. Made me really comfortable and I spent the whole night and day.. Y’know.” Her face felt hot as she placed the cash into the register before starting up the POS and making sure everything would be right for when the day ended. “I was worried for nothing. The man is kinda unreal, if I’m being honest. I was taken care of in every way. I shouldn’t be surprised considering he’s been really good to me so far.” Brushing her hair over her shoulder, the drawer was closed and she took note of her green tea, picking it up for a sip now that it wouldn’t burn her tongue. 

“It’s what you deserve.” Her friend smiled softly. “You deserve a great love like you read about in your books. Besides, I know you’re going to get it. It’s written in the stars.” She was joking, but also… not really. Delilah knew things without knowing how she knew them, and it was almost always true. “Where is he today? Are we expecting a drop in from him?”

“Actually, I don’t know.” Y/N hummed. He hadn’t replied after his initial good morning message but she wasn’t too worried about it. “He said something about stopping by the bakery. He had today off to go run errands so he’ll be dropping things off but I know I’m seeing him tomorrow. We’re going to that new pizza place.” She was excited about that. There was a flatbread she was looking forward to trying, and Harry had suggested getting two different things and splitting it. It was nice to feel comfortable eating with someone. That was one of the anxiety triggers she had to unlearn as she got older. 

“I think we’re going to get a drop in.” Taking one of the baskets they used for restocks, she went towards the tumble table and began to deposit the little baggies of colorful stones and minerals into the correct cubbies. “Have you brought up that Claire woman yet?”

Y/N hadn’t, very well for a reason. She didn’t like the feeling it gave her stomach. Somehow, she was well aware she and Harry had been involved. Somehow, someway. It didn’t seem strong, as she obviously couldn’t be that close to him anymore if she’s unable to contact him but… It still wasn’t a good feeling. The woman wasn’t nice, her energy was rancid and muddy, and she obviously looked down on them for believing in their own thing. That was the exact person she tried to avoid. Y/N knew it was perhaps rude to judge solely off of one interaction, but something told her Harry wouldn’t be happy to hear about her coming in. 

“Not yet.” She said sheepishly, spooning a bit of yogurt into her mouth. “I know, you don’t have to give me the eyebrow. I’m just… You know how it is. When you know it’s going to cause an issue.” Y/N didn’t think it would be with her but the idea of upsetting Harry at all wasn’t something she enjoyed. Being so new in the relationship, she wanted that honeymoon stage. It had been so lovely this far, she selfishly wanted to avoid the past and the real world from inserting themselves in her rose colored daydream with her dreamy new boyfriend. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how life worked. 

“Putting it off isn’t doing either of you any favors, Cher.” She gave her another look, hanging up a necklace back on the display. “I trust you to handle it on your own time, but do it soon. I have a feeling she isn’t done sniffing around yet.”

—--

“Hey.” A wide smile greeted her as she heard the chime of the bells on the door, seeing the man that had been on her mind. High waisted black pants with a flare at the bottom and a yellow tee shirt, he walked in with his boots clicking on the hardwood floor. Lifting his sunglasses off his face into his fluffy hair, he extended his arms to motion for her to walk into them. She did so without a question. How could she not? 

Falling into his warm scent, she nuzzled her face into his neck and allowed herself to be engulfed in him. Something about them felt closer now. More intimate. Maybe she was making it up but a layer had been shed and he felt even more close to her soul. Lips pecked a few times into her hair, swaying her back and forth as her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, a relieved sigh leaving the man. “Y’alright, Sugar?”

“Mhm.” She nodded against him. “Tired. Spilled my coffee a quarter through but it’s been a bit busy today so we haven’t had the chance to get away. You win some, you lose some.” She’d rather be a little tired and making money, giving readings, all of that. 

“Should have texted me.” His tongue clicked, finally getting a good look at her as she pulled out of his neck. Didn’t she realize he’d do almost anything for her? “Would have brought you some over, sweets. What good is having a boyfriend if you’re not gonna use me?” He was joking, but not really. He knew that he’d bend over backwards for the girl in his arms. 

“In all honesty, I didn’t even think about it. I knew you were busy today running errands and we had a lot of walk in readings, I’ve been a little busy.” Her fingers ran through his hair again, liking how it felt between them. He always melted like a pup getting pets when she did it too, so it was a win win. “Did you get everything done that you needed?”

“I did.” He moved on swiftly. “Are you sayin’ you didn’t eat?” His brow raised, making her wince. Sometimes she forgot, but it wasn’t on purpose. It was genuine distraction. “Baby…” 

“I had a yogurt and granola bar. I was planning on making some food when I got home, but I was busy. Promise.” She tried her luck at a pout which luckily seemed to break down the glare. 

“Too bad.” He sighed. “M’gonna run and get you both food. I don’t like this, Sugar.” Large hands cupped her face, making her feel more delicate than she ever had been. Sometimes it felt hard to lean into that femininity of delicacy when she’d been treated as the opposite most of her life, but Harry had her falling into it so easily. “I know you’re a big girl and you can handle yourself, but it’s okay to ask me for help. I want to help you, I want to be a good boyfriend and grab your things when you’re busy. I know you’d do the same for me.” She already had. The girl had given him a whole welcome basket when he opened his own business, for fucks sake. 

“I know. It’s…” Feeling slightly guilty now, she rested her hands on his wrists. “It’s a hard habit to break. I’ve been independent for years now and I don’t like to rely on people.” It was always thrown back in her face. “I’ll try harder, H. Promise.” Turning her head, she caught his palm with her lips and pressed kisses to it. That move melted him completely, leaning down to kiss her lips a few times before peeling himself away. 

“Good girl. I’ll be back in a bit. Be good for me.”

Y/N hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave. Still buzzing from the affection, she jumped as Delilah came out of the back room fanning herself. 

“That man is completely gone for you. Lord…” She shook her head. “What a guy. I’m glad he wants to take care of you, Cher. You deserve it.” Her hand squeezed her shoulder as she slipped past her. 

“It has nothing to do with the fact he’s getting you lunch too?” She snickered, watching her friend shrug. 

“That definitely helps.”

—--

Y/N’s good mood was squashed just 10 minutes later when a familiar face walked through the shop doors, nose wrinkling at the scent of the incense. 

God, why now? 

“Y/N, I’ve told you that these smoky scents are going to drive away customers.”

Yeah, that was the point. Drive away customers with impure intentions. 

“Hi, Mother.” Y/N sighed, feeling her shoulders tighten as she watched the woman come closer into the shop. Her tumultuous relationship with her mother had a lot to do with the fact that Y/N reminded her of her own. They’d been extremely close, sharing their love of the spiritual world, of magic, all the things while her mom had rejected it. Y/N had been easier to bond with for her grandmother and she knew she held resentment over it for years. 

She wasn’t an awful person, was the thing. She liked to support her at school, took her shopping for makeup, taught her how to do her hair and tie her shoes. She held her when she was sick, stuck up for her when she got bullied- but she didn’t realize she herself was her daughter’s first and biggest bully. 

“Hello. It’s been weeks since you’ve visited me or your father.” She sent her a look. “Are you well? Do you need money? I know the shop is a bit of a hard venture to keep up…” 

There it was. Her mother had always hated this shop. Hated what it stood for, what it represented. Y/N never faulted or judged someone for not believing or being connected in the things she was. It was a calling, she truly believed, whether natural or brought on by a life event. But her mother thought it to be a bit of a waste of time. Always expecting her downfall, though she didn’t think she was cruel enough to hope for it. 

“No, we’re actually doing incredibly well.” It was the truth. They were making bigger profits than the years before and she was more than glad about that. They’d paid off the loan they took out and now they were working towards a possible expansion. But her mom didn’t want to hear about that. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been a bit busy.” 

Her mom gave her a scrutinizing eye, unsure if she believed her. Y/N wasn’t usually a busy person, despite the shop. She liked a slower lifestyle and she knew that, which is why she understood the look on her face. “Have you gone back to the gym like I asked? I haven��t seen you there. I can go with you, you know. I think you’d love my trainer. He’s very dedicated.”

There it was again. Y/N felt her stomach drop, though she should have expected it. Her mother was obsessed with her weight. She’d been the one to try and get her on diets at an early age, effectively ruining her relationship with food. While she knew her mother was someone who cared about her, sometimes she cared about the wrong things a bit too much. Once Y/N had made peace with the fact that she’d always be a bigger girl, her mother had pushed back at it causing more of a rift. She wasn’t going along with her plans and fad diets anymore, and it felt like a personal insult. 

“No, no. I’ve been busy with something else, actually.” With Harry. The pretty, driven, thoughtful man that had her tummy in knots and her head in the clouds. 

“Well, what? I’ve sent you dozens of recipes. I doubt you’ve tried them though. It looks like you’ve put on a bit of weight in the last few weeks. I thought you were making progress.” Her frown made Y/N’s stomach hurt. She’d resigned herself into knowing she would probably never get her mother’s approval on her body, but the reminders didn’t do much to make her feel good. Accepting it didn’t mean liking it. 

“I may have. I’ve been fine, though.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll come by for dinner next week, I promise. I just-”

The door chimed again, interrupting them both. Her stomach dropped as she saw Harry’s smiling face, something that usually would make her erupt into butterflies- but this wasn’t the introduction she wanted to make. Not quite yet. 

“I’m back, sorry. There was a line.” He murmured, going behind the desk and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her body flushed as she looked towards her mother, her eyes wide as Harry adjusted her hair for her before setting the food bag and coffee tray on the counter. “Sorry, I’ll step out of the way if you’re helping someone.”

“Who’s this?” Her mother’s interest was immediately evident. 

“I’m Harry, Y/N’s boyfriend. Nice t’meet you. What’s your name?” He asked, placing a hand on his girlfriend’s back. 

“H, this is my mother.” Y/N swallowed, looking between the two of them. She could see his eyes widen, reaching a hand out for her to shake. He was always so polite, so charming, but she couldn’t help but see the look on her mom’s face. 

“You’re her boyfriend?” She asked, brows raised. Her voice sounded in disbelief, looking between the two of them as if something didn’t add up. “I didn’t know she even had a boyfriend.” 

Thankfully she’d let him know she hadn’t exactly told her yet so he didn’t seem shocked about that, but the meeting was a little unorthodox. 

His brows did furrow at her tone and she could tell he didn’t like it. But for her sake he kept a smile on his face, shaking the woman’s hand lightly. “Yes, I am. M’quite gone for her. You raised an incredible woman, Ma’am.” He spoke earnestly. 

“Excuse my shock, I just didn’t realize….” She trailed off, still seeming confused. “Y/N does like her secrets, it seems. You’re very handsome. What do you do?” It was likeher mother to be nosy, sniffing out why exactly the man was around her daughter. Y/N could see that she was suspicious and it hurt her because she knew exactly why she was. 

She was making sure he wasn’t using her for another reason. For money or something else, because it was hard for her to believe a man as attractive as him would be with her for pure attraction and chemistry. 

“I actually own the bakery across the street.” He said easily. “Thank you for the compliment. She’s an incredible woman, so welcoming and kind. Beautiful to boot.” He meant every word, tapping the tip of her nose. “I don’t want to interrupt, though… I brought the girls lunch.” 

“Oh, it’s not trouble. I was coming because my daughter forgets she has a phone.” She shot her a look. “Why don’t you come to dinner next week with her? You’re more than welcome. Her father would be more than happy to meet you.” 

“If it’s alright with Y/N, I will.” He nodded, showing his loyalty immediately. Harry wouldn’t do anything that made his girl uncomfortable and he was dedicated to the cause. He was already unsure about the woman, but the next words solidified it for him. 

“Alright, whatever you decide. Just make sure she doesn’t have too many sweets from your bakery, hm? It’s starting to show again.” She was joking as if it was funny, patting her daughter’s hand before stepping back. “I hope to see you next week, Harry. Call me, Y/N, we have much to discuss.” 

Her mother was swift, walking out the door as quickly as she had come in. As soon as she was gone, the energy calmed and her shoulders fell, groaning low in her throat as she moved to hide her face in Harry’s chest again. He knew better than to talk, instead stroking over her hair as he let her recover from that interaction. 

Internally though, his view on her mother was soured. How dare she make a comment to not only her daughter about that, but to him? A man she was dating and obviously really liked her? Did she not realize how awful it was to comment on something like that? Y/N had told him that her relationship with her mother had been a weird one but he hadn’t expected her to say something cruel like that. It didn’t even seem to register that she was being mean, she genuinely seemed to think it was funny. 

“I’m sorry about that.” She sighed, pulling back from his chest. “She’s… she’s a lot. I promise she isn’t all bad, but she’s got quirks.” Her face pulled in a slight grimace, making him smile sadly at her as he caressed her warm cheek. 

“That wasn’t nice to say, but I have a feeling it isn’t something you want t’unpack in the middle of a work day.” It wasn’t something he felt could be properly discussed out here anyways. “We can talk about it tomorrow, if you want…but I just have to say this one thing.” His head dipped to get closer to hers. “I don’t mind if you gain or lose weight. I don’t care about that at all so long as you’re healthy and comfortable. I’ll never restrict you from eating, never make you feel as though you’re too much. I know you struggle with it, but I’m never going to contribute to that. I’m here to support you.” 

His words were genuine, eyes shining as he told her his truth. She could feel it radiating off of him and it made her want to tear up, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply to that before he smacked a kiss to her nose and pulled back to open the paper bag that had been stapled shut. “But now I want you to tell me if I did a good job choosing your meal, please. I did the caramel coffee with oat milk, iced. I remembered that bit.” 

Y/N wasn’t sure where the hell Harry had come from, but she was thankful for whoever had sent him. It seemed like she needed him now more than ever.

[lovelyiida]

THE RACE TO WEDDING BELLS ❤︎︎

CHAPTER 10 : MOMMY'S BOY; SISTERS PAWN

"The scandal of it all!"

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo realized he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥: CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 3K

[ DISCLAIMER!!! YOUR BODY IS BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY IT IS!!! AND YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN A TRILLION GAZILLION KABILLION BUCKS!!!]

“That dress makes you look fat.”

“I agree, you look a tad… robust.”

For today’s catastrophe, you had the joy of honing in on the final detail for you and Katsuki’s wedding. The dress, of course!

You’ve always watched TV shows where the excited, bubbling bride brings their loved ones to shop for “the dress.” Only to be filled with anger and distraught over the absolute gall their family was.

You thought to yourself how you would never let this happen to you. If there was a problem, you tell them to get the fuck out! It’s your wedding anyway.

But now that you fit the quota (and maybe not the dress), you’re starting to think otherwise. And who else is better to go dress shopping with, than your fiance’s mother and your beloved sister?

Swallowing your pride, you show a defeated smile and step down from the elevated space. Turning around, you head back into the dressing room and look in the mirror. Letting out an exhale, you brushed your hand through your hair and placed it back on your hip with a plop.

“Just a couple of more dresses until they break,” you chuckled, reassuring yourself from the absolute nightmare this whole day has been. Biting your lip, you began to look at yourself a bit more. Straightening out some flimsy pieces here and there, swaying side to side in the dress.

You can’t believe you’re doing this…

You’ve fantasized about moments like these in your head millions of times. You’d be the perfect wife, marrying the perfect husband, who has the perfect family.  But now that everything has come to the forefront— it just seemed so dull.

You’re thankful you get some chance of normalcy… paparazzi included.

It was only an amount of time until you’d walk down the aisle to the “man of your dreams” and sign yourself away for the rest of eternity. And not even that will be set in stone.

“You’re just an open book of failures, aren't you?”

You spoke quietly to yourself. Scrunching your mouth to the side, you held back tears. You didn’t have the money to stain a 10-thousand-dollar dress with a 10-dollar mascara.

“Failed job, failed love life, failed marriage, failed quirk…” you trailed.

When was there a time when your life gave you a break? A moment of grace? When was the last time you felt genuine happiness beyond your prowess?

A singular tear streamed down your cheek.

Chin held high, you extended your hand out and under your cheek. “10 thousand dollars,” you whimpered. You’re wearing a dress worth ten thousand dollars, and yet you amount to nothing.

It's like placing birthday makeup on a potato sack.

As the tears kept streaming down your face, your whimpers grew louder. So much for trying to beat the sad-bridal-dress-shopping troupe.

God, when will you ever get a break?

Knock knock knock

Before you could even compose yourself with the little amount of time you had, the door was opened and someone barged in. “Y’know— if you’re gonna invite us, be respectful of other people's time. We’ve been sitting outside like a deer in headlights because you decided to dress yourself in that hideous mermaid tail–”

Mitsuki moaned on and on until she raised her head, and as her eyes fixed on your broken position; she was left speechless.

“Oh… um.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry,” you mumbled with a hick in your breath. As you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, you then placed them on the sides of your neck. You stared at Mitsuki’s speechless look, unable to care for how she might scold you next.

The mother then let out a sigh before she reached into her purse. As she rummaged around, she found a package of napkins and opened them with haste. Handing them to you, you reached out with hesitance before you took them from her grasp.

“You know that dress is designer?” she deadpanned.

“Gee whiz! I don’t think I thought of that,” you spoke a cutting remark as venom oozed from each word.

“Who are you talking to?” Mitsuki scowled at your remark. You couldn't help but break out into a strained laughter at her words. “I’m talking to a woman who thinks I’ll never be good for their son!” You exclaimed with an anguished, teary smile.

Mitsuki jumped at your exclamation…

“I’m talking to someone who has only met me once, and now they have to call me their daughter-in-law, knowing they’d rather drop dead! Someone who knows that me and Katsuki should’ve never been together. Someone who is just as confused as I am, because we both know that whatever Katsuki sees in me is a lie!”

Your voice harshly trembled with each agonizing word, “is that what you wanted to hear?”

Mitsuki was unable to utter another word.

“I admit it! I’m a fucking fraud! I’m just some girl who’s trying to hold on to this false sense of happiness and drain it for whatever it’s worth because something always tells me it’ll be worth it. And it never fucking is!”

“Failure after failure, and I still don’t know what my purpose is on this earth! I’ll never be good enough for the life I’ve always dreamed of, the life where me and your son are in love and are getting married happily. Not by some phony contract!”

Mitsuki growled at your words, “what contract?”

“The…stupid-fucking marriage contract! This whole marriage is a sham!” You cried out. Mitsuki lets out a breath and begins to ponder around the dressing room, taking in the words you’ve spoken.

“Your son wanted some shot at normalcy and roped me into all of this mess. And you know what’s crazy? I said yes because I didn’t want to lose my job! My one shot of living the life I always dreamed, hanging by the thread of a shitty NDA and a seven-carat ring!”

Your words sunk deep into his mother's chest, weighing her down one by one, until she was left leaning against the wall with her hands cradling her face.

“And you know what’s even worse? I used to fucking hate his guts! But now…”

But now… what? You were silent.

The room hung heavy with silence, a palpable weight that seemed to press down on the both of you, muffling every breath and stifling any attempt at speech. The stillness was deafening, a stark contrast to the lively conversation that had filled the space moments earlier. An eerie hush blanketed the room as if the very air had stilled, holding its breath in anticipation of something yet to come.

Mitsuki’s hands drag from her face and her eyes bore into your disheveled state. Standing back up, she then neared towards you and then threw her purse down on the floor.

Unable to look into her eyes, your knees fall weak and you lower to the floor. Following suit, Mitsuki lowers herself and sits on the floor with you. “Listen, about my son…”

“Since the moment he was a young boy, I always knew he’d be destined for greatness. He was such a bright and confident spirit. Very sure in himself and his purpose in life

But ever since the war.”

You notice the drop in her tone, you nice her let out a defeated breath. She shook her head and continued to speak.

“That spark left him.”

“What do you mean?” You spoke softly.

“When I saw my son in the hospital— all his life was sucked out of him. His eyes were dead and he just looked out the window. Then the next moment he burst into tears…” Mitsukis voice wavered as her throat began to tighten, taking herself back to that dreadful day. 

“He never told me why he cried but I could put two and two together.”

Mitsuki wiped her tears with her finger, trying to gain back her composer. “Why was he crying?” you asked.

“Because he’s tired.”

Your brows were furrowed, eyes concentrating on her face. A heavy silence blanketed over the both of you, broken by the sound of a sniffle. “I knew at that moment I had lost my son forever. He’s not the same bright little boy anymore, he’s distant, reserved, and he’s completely shut out me and his father.”

“I apologize for how we’ve treated you.”

You turned to see Katsuki's mother, Mitsuki, looking out with a rueful expression. Despite her blunt words, you detected a certain softness there.

"I was the one who pushed him into heroics from a young age," she continued with a sigh. "Katsuki always had a...driven personality, even as a little kid. I figured that channeling it into becoming a pro hero would be good for him."

Mitsuki shook her head. "But I look at that son of mine now and I can't help but wonder if I steered him wrong somewhere along the way."

"With how angry and arrogant he is, maybe I should've pushed him into a different hobby," Mitsuki lamented. "Something where he could put that intensity to better use than constantly fighting and yelling."

She turned to you then, giving you an appraising look. "You must be a real saint to put up with that spitfire attitude of his. So, I understand you hate him–”

“I don’t hate him… I feel the exact opposite, actually.”

“So then what do you feel?”

“I feel like he’s worthy… worthy of love beyond his own comprehension.”

Mistuki nods in silence, “and I know that he’s been hurt in the past, and he’s willing to give this another try. And I’m happy for him because he’s just like any other person on earth with the right to experience love. Heroic title or not… I’m glad he was able to find something close to that with me.”

You showed a soft smile, satisfied that you were finally able to get that off your chest.

Mitsuki smiles back as she then rests her hand on your shoulder. You looked up to meet her gaze, falling into the familiar crimson irises.

“No matter how this marriage came to be,” she spoke, her voice thick with earnest emotion. “Whether it was by chance or by contract…” She gave your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “The way my son looks at you tells me all I need to know.”

You felt your eyes prick with tears at her words, overwhelmed by the depth of her acceptance. “You two kids have found something real,” she continues firmly. “As parents, that’s the only thing we could hope for— that our children find genuine love and devotion.” Her smile turned impish, “even if it is with that hotheaded son of mine.”

A teary giggle bubbled up from your chest. An arm swept around your shoulders, and Mitsuki hugged you close in a warm embrace. “As long as you two have each other… that’s all that matters to an old lady like me.”

You pulled away from her embrace and showed her a smile, “thank you.”

Mitsuki chuckled before shuffling on the floor. “Now, let's get you up! My legs are killing me.”

As you both rise from the floor, you look at each other in a comfortable silence.

After Mitsuki finished gushing about how beautiful the wedding dress looked on you, she gave you an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

"Alright, let me give you some privacy to try on the next one," she said with a warm smile. "I'll be right outside if you need any help with the zipper or laces."

You nodded gratefully as Mitsuki slipped out of the fitting room, leaving you to carefully remove the lace gown. Just as you had stepped into the next dress sample, a sharp knock came at the door.

"Who is it?" you called out, doing a little shimmy to pull the dress up over your hips.

"It's me," came your sister's muffled voice from the other side. She didn't sound pleased.

Furrowing your brow, you quickly zipped and smoothed the dress before cracking open the door. Your sister's frown deepened as she looked at you over.

"Sis? What's wrong?" you asked with a tinge of worry. "Did something happen?"

She exhaled sharply through her nose. "Oh, nothing... except I just got a call from mom. Apparently, she's refusing to come dress shopping because, and I quote, 'That unstable brute isn't good enough for my baby.'"

You felt your jaw drop as realization set in. "Wait... she's boycotting my wedding dress shopping because of Katsuki?" 

A beat of silence passed between you before your sister's stony expression cracked and she let out a barking laugh.

"Leave it to Mom to find the most dramatic way to voice her dislike of your fiance," she giggled, shaking her head. "The scandal of it all!"

Unable to help yourself, you soon joined in the laughter, doubling over at the sheer ridiculousness of your mother's actions. Trust her to make a fuss at every turn about your perfectly wonderful relationship.

"Well, her loss then!" you managed between gasping breaths. "We'll just have to celebrate without her negativity!"

“Speaking of that… I can't wait to see his face when you say no and embarrass him in front of thousands! It’s what the brute deserves.” She chuckled.

You chose not to respond, and she took notice of that.

“About that… this whole elaborate plan— I think we should give it a rest.” You spoke firmly. Your sister shot you a look of disgust, “excuse me?”

“All I’m saying is… I’ve gotten to know him a bit more and—”

“You’ve fallen in love with the prick?” Your sister’s voice raised. You frown at her words, too embarrassed to argue back at her. A distressed break of laughter falls from her chest, “I fucking knew it!”

“I knew you’d find a way to mess this up and ditch me! As per usual” she spat. A look of disbelief cascaded over your face, “ditch you?” you asked.

“Yeah! Y’know— you go to the perfect school, get the perfect job, the apartment, the husband.” Your sister snarled as she pointed at the wedding dress. “And you leave the people you knew the longest behind to pick up the scraps!”

“And you wonder why you had to pick up scraps? Because you decided to run away and live your life without us! Leaving me to do all the work! So yeah, something good is finally happening to me and I’m gonna take advantage of that!

It’s not my fault you were a lost cause!” You yelled in anger.

Your sister's eyes went wide at the biting remark that had slipped out in the heat of your argument. "Did you really just say that to me?" she asked in disbelief, shaking her head slowly. 

For a moment, an awkward silence hung in the air as you stubbornly avoided her gaze. But then her expression hardened and she let out a derisive chuckle, taking a step closer until she was mere inches from your face.

"You're going to regret those words, sis," she said in a low, dangerous tone. "I don't take that kind of insult lightly, especially from family."

You refused to be intimidated, squaring your shoulders as you met her glare head-on. "Well then, if you know what's good for you, don't bother coming to my wedding," you retorted.

Her eyes flashed with fury before she gave a mocking laugh. "Oh, I'll be there alright. And you'll wish I wasn't by the time I'm through with you."

Refusing to be baited further, you simply shrugged one shoulder coolly. "Suit yourself. But any scene you cause, I'm holding you responsible.”

"We'll see about that," she hissed venomously. With one last withering look, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving you to anxiously play with the skirt of your dress.

Beneath the veneer of the joyous celebration raged a storm of bitter envy and resentment. Lurking in the shadows was the black sheep sister— a stark contrast to you. While you basked in the warmth of acceptance by Bakugo's hero circle, your sisters' lives had been a vortex of misery and poor decisions.

Cast out by their parents years ago, she found herself adrift and desperate on the streets. A chance encounter with a nefarious villain gang seemed her only lifeline, despite the cost. Slowly but surely, she buried herself deeper into their seedy underworld— committing petty crimes, and gathering intel, all to pay off her mounting debts owed to the merciless criminals.

What should have been her salvation became a noose around her neck. The more she witnessed your charmed life and success, the more her resentment mutated into a toxic obsession. The favoritism, the accolades, the love from the famous Dynamight— it all fanned the flames of her hatred.

When she discovered her pathetic sister had secured the heart of the renowned hero, something snapped inside Akari. She could never truly find happiness knowing you had achieved the perfect life. If she couldn't have that perfection for herself, she would ensure you burned with her in misery.

Trading villain information about Dynamight and his colleagues became her twisted obsession. Your sister bided her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike - when she could sacrifice her sister on the altar of her malicious envy. Ruin both their lives with one brutal act, while settling her debts and finally living the life she deserved. 

But as you seamlessly got accepted by your fiance's friend group, seeing the genuine love and joy surrounding the both of you, it unraveled the last threads of your sister's unraveling sanity. Her fingers tightened around the serrated blade she'd been concealing, her eyes glittering with madness. If she could never attain that happiness for herself, then you didn't deserve to either.

She was done watching her sister have everything while she wallowed in darkness. One way or another, the path of perfection you walked would be drenched in ashes and ruin—

she would die trying.

I know the chapter's short, but I'm saving a big juicy chapter for the ending!

— lovelyiida

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[clangenrising]

Month 16 - Greenleaf

When Aldertail had volunteered to go herb gathering with him, Oddstripe had been delighted but he had definitely expected her to get tired and lose interest by this point. The day was hot but there was a nice breeze and, as they meandered the territory looking for patches that hadn’t already been harvested, Oddstripe couldn’t help but smile. 

“Y’know, I’d really love to find some thyme or juniper,” he said, hopping over a stone in his path. 

“What do those do?” Aldertail asked, carefully picking her way after him. Her legs were the best he’d ever seen them. There was almost no redness and the fur had nearly grown back in. Oddstripe was so proud.

“Thyme is very calming and juniper berries are just all around useful. On top of being calming, they soothe belly aches, help with coughs, and they can even treat aching joints when mixed with the proper herbs. I’d love to get some for Sagetooth.” 

Aldertail’s ears pressed back briefly. “Mm, would that help?”

“Oh, yes,” Oddstripe nodded. “When she isn’t suffering from her aches, she’s really, actually very kind. It can just be hard for her to stay that way when she’s in a lot of pain.” 

“I guess,” Aldertail shrugged. “I feel like you don’t just start being mean to people though, if that makes sense.” 

“I get what you mean,” said Oddstripe, “but something you have to remember is that your body and your mind aren’t two separate entities. They’re both you and they influence each other.” Aldertail winced in an attempt to seem less skeptical. Oddstripe laughed a little and tried to think of a better way to explain. “Oh, for example, when your mind starts to run wild, you feel sick to your stomach right?”

“Yeah,” Aldertail nodded. 

“So that’s your mind influencing your body!” Oddstripe grinned. “But the inverse is also possible. Like, if you’re very scared, we do those deep breaths and the act of calming your body calms your mind.” Aldertail hummed thoughtfully. “So when Sagetooth’s body aches it makes it harder for her to control the way she speaks to people. You’re right that it doesn’t make her something she isn’t but it’s also not entirely her choice. Even I can get snappy when I’m stressed or ill.” 

“Really?” Aldertail didn’t seem convinced. “I can’t picture you snappy.” 

Oddstripe blushed and laughed as he replied, “Oh, that’s very sweet of you.”

“It’s true,” she said. “You’ve only ever been kind and gentle.” 

“Well, I’ve been lucky that I’ve never felt ill enough to snap at you,” he said, full of pride. 

“Mm,” Aldertail chewed her lip. “So where would we find juniper berries?” 

“Hmm,” Oddstripe scrunched up his face in thought. “I know a place they’ll definitely be but its a bit of a distance. Would you still want to come along?” 

“Of course!” she nodded vigorously. “I like learning about medicine.” 

“Really?” asked Oddstripe. 

“Mhm,” nodded Aldertail. “It’s so… powerful. I can’t imagine being able to do what you do.” 

“Oh, it’s really not that hard to learn,” Oddstripe said, changing course. “I’ll show you.”

As they made their way towards the juniper bushes, Oddstripe went over all of the basics he could think of. Healing was something he was intensely passionate about and Aldertail indulged him in his ramblings for the entirety of their walk. Oddstripe couldn’t remember the last time someone had let him ramble like this. It felt amazing. 

They crossed the eastern border and Oddstripe assured Aldertail that everything would be alright. Eventually, the grass petered out and the earth beneath their paws turned to dry, sunbaked mud patterned with cracks and ridges. Oddstripe smiled at the feeling of it under his paws. It had been too long since he’d stepped foot in the desert and he had missed it. They passed little burrows and scurrying lizards and dry looking shrubs and then finally came across the big juniper bush.

“Tada!” Oddstripe declared, unfurling his tail towards the cloudless sky. 

“This is a juniper bush?” Aldertail asked, glancing around its leaves as if something would jump out. 

“Mhm!” he purred. “The berries near the bottom are usually gone because creatures eat them but we can jump up and snag a few branches to take home. Maybe we could even plant one closer to the territories.”

“That would be a good idea,” Aldertail squirmed. “I don’t like this place.” 

“Really?” asked Oddstripe, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s too open,” she shuddered. “Let’s hurry up and go home.” 

“Alright,” he frowned worriedly. He’d never considered that someone might not enjoy being able to see the world stretch out endlessly around them. He bunched his legs underneath him and sprang into the bush, but failed to grab onto any of the branches. “Mousedung. Let me try again.” 

He jumped again, this time snagging a branch in his teeth, and his weight pulled it down to a place where Aldertail could help him snap it off. He handed the branch over to her and tried again. The leaves rattled as he fell through them, this time taking another two tries before he caught another branch in his claws. It nearly slipped and he had to scramble to clamp his jaws down around it, smearing berry juice all over his muzzle. 

“Are you okay?” asked Aldertail. 

“Uh huh,” he said awkwardly. “‘Ah you ‘reah ih?” 

“Oh, right! Sorry!” Aldertail hurried forward to start chewing through the branch.

“S’alrigh’,” he chuckled, feeling silly. She met his eyes and flushed pink, quickly averting her gaze to focus on her work. He laughed again. She was such a sweetheart. 

A voice startled them both. “You shouldn’t be out here.” 

Aldertail squeaked and flattened herself against the ground. Oddstripe tried to turn around but struggled to do so without letting go of the branch which didn’t occur to him at all. The cat who had spoken, thankfully, stepped to the side into his view. She was a plain looking grey tabby with bright, golden eyes, and she was watching them with an expression that read to Oddstripe as professional. 

“Oh, sahhy,” he tried to say around the branch in his teeth. 

A small smile poked at the edges of the stranger’s lips and she glanced carefully at Aldertail before asking, “Would you like a paw?”

“Mm!” Oddstripe grinned and nodded clumsily. “Mhm!”

The stranger chuckled softly, dropping her gaze to her paws for a moment, before she stepped up and swatted the branch where Aldertail had been chewing it. The force of the blow was enough to snap it and Oddstripe stumbled away as the rest of the branch sprang noisily back into place. Aldertail squeaked again, and scrunched herself closer to his side. 

He laid his tail over her back, dropped the branch, and then licked his muzzle before speaking. “Thank you! I really appreciate the help. My name’s Oddstripe, what’s yours.” 

“Oscar,” the she-cat smiled with a polite dip of her head. “I’m glad to be of assistance but I really must urge you to leave this place.” 

“Oh?” asked Oddstripe, ears perking. “What for?” 

“This is coyote territory,” she said, scanning the area with a sharp gaze. “You aren’t safe here.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize the coyotes had come so far west,” Oddstripe said. 

“You live here?” asked Oscar, brow furrowing. 

“No, no, but I used to live near here,” he said. “Now I’m out in the grasslands.” 

“I see,” Oscar nodded. “Well, I must insist you return home, for your own safety.” 

“We will, thank you,” smiled Oddstripe.

Oscar glanced around again and said, “Should you require an escort, I would be happy to oblige.” 

“I don’t think it would hurt,” Oddstripe said. “Aldertail, honey, is that alright with you?” Aldertail simply shrugged, eyes wide enough to show the whites. 

Oddstripe’s ears drooped in pity. “Oh, you poor thing. Here, let’s head back to camp.” He licked her cheek and helped her stand, then handed her one of the juniper sprigs to carry. Having something in her mouth would keep her occupied, he thought. Picking up his own branch, he glanced at Oscar and said, “It’s just this way.” 

“I follow your lead,” she deferred with a bow of the head. Oddstripe blushed, a silly little flutter dancing in his stomach. Something about her seemed right out of a story. He’d never felt that way before. 

Shrugging it off, he led the way, tail wrapped around Aldertail’s leg reassuringly. She stayed close to his side, ears flat against her skull, and Oscar stayed on the opposite side of him, at least two tail lengths away. Oddstripe wanted to walk closer but the distance was probably best for Aldertail. How considerate of their new companion, he thought. 

“So, Oscar,” he asked, able to speak around the sprig this time, “why are you out here in coyote country?” 

“I’m patrolling,” she said. “I look for creatures like you and give them the warning.” 

“Creatures?” Oddstripe chuckled but Oscar nodded seriously.

“Yes. Anything I can speak to. Cats, deer, snakes, most birds.”

“Wow!” Oddstripe marveled. “That’s amazing! I didn’t realize you could talk to those kinds of things.” 

“It’s simple if you have a teacher,” said Oscar humbly. 

“It seems most things are,” laughed Oddstripe. 

It wasn’t long before they reached the edge of the grass again. Oscar stopped under a scrubby little tree and said. “I should return to my patrol. Will you be able to get home from here?” 

“Oh, yes,” nodded Oddstripe. “Thank you so much, Oscar, it was lovely to meet you.”

She shook her head. “I’m simply doing my duty.”

“Well, thank you anyway,” said Oddstripe. She smiled, dipped her head in a polite bow, and then turned and bounded back into the desert. Oddstripe watched her go like he was trying to catch every last moment of her before she disappeared forever. Eventually, her shape disappeared into the shimmering edge of the horizon. 

“Oddstripe?” asked Aldertail quietly. 

“Oh,” he blinked and looked down at her. “Yes, dear?” 

“I’d like to go home, is that okay?” 

“Oh, of course it is,” he said, “let’s go home.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, that’s alright. Sorry I got distracted.” 

“What was her deal?” Aldertail asked, craning her head to see if she could spot Oscar in the distance.

“I don’t know,” Oddstripe breathed softly, doing the same.

[tonyboneysblog]

ACCIDENTAL NAB P4

parings: thief!hawks x princess!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: kidnapping, fighting.

notes:HAWKS GOES CRAZY.

summary: thief!hawks steals you away and takes you far away from you home!…on accident.

part 3: ACCIDENTAL NAB P3

The more the carriage jiggled and shook, the more adrenaline shoot through your veins.

Skinningrove was terrifying, according to Dabi.

You wish your sisters were here because then you’d have to put on a more confident front to show them you weren’t scared at all.

but they aren’t here, you can’t hide.

Hawks steals glances towards you, you never makes eye contact. You hope he doesn’t see how scared you truly are.

You surround yourself with fun memory’s of your sisters, ones that make you feel warm, it hardens you.

“we’re here.” Dabi calls from the front.

never mind, your losing your shit.

You can hear hawks speaking to Tokoyami, “stay here, don’t want the cargo getting stolen- use dark shadow if you have to.”

Hawks then jumps out of the carriage joining you and Dabi.

“Stay close to me, okay?” Hawks whispers in your ear.

You nod as a protective wing covers you slightly.

The three of you walk through the crowd, it smells a lot worse than SableStone did, Dabi says it’s because a lot of “human waste” gets dropped here.

so you watch your step a little more than usual…

Through the hood you can see children on the streets, a lot of them looked malnourished but that’s average for a town like this- it smells like iron around the butcher shops, it makes you sick.

Your father would’ve never even let you set a single step here, let alone frolic in the crowds.

Dabi seems more on guard than he did in SableStone, so does Hawks. Both of their stances are more stiff- hawks has less of a cheerful “I love life!” face and more of a “come near me and I’ll slaughter you” face.

It gives you some comfort.

The three of you make your way to a darker shop tucked in a corner, it’s old and made out of gray stones stacked atop each-other with a little window.

“Excuse me?” Hawks taps the entrance of the window, “got an offer for ya.”

A man comes out from the darkness, he has pale skin and hair, his skin dry and cracking. He has at least two scars on his face as well with red eyes.

a little scary, so you shuffle a closer to hawks.

A scratchy voice replies from the window, “and that would be?”

“Just a few things from the palace?”

The man scoffs, “I got too many of your type coming in a day, don’t waste my time aga-“

Dabi smacks his hand on the counter, “Shigaraki, we’re not in the mood for games at the moment.”

“Dabi? hm, you should’ve done the talking first y’know- I’d believe you quicker.”

“The bird ain’t that smart, sorry.”

“How much of it you Va got?”

“A few chairs, chests, dresses, shoes, y’know the basics.”

You stay quiet and try not to make eye contact with the red eyed one.

for once, you hope someone doesn’t recognize you.

You can he shigaraki say, “You selling her too?”

Dabi chuckles, “Depends”

please say this is a joke, you’d rather sleep next to hawks for a 100 more nights than even be near that man for one.

Hawks said he wouldn’t sell you- he won’t, right?

You feel his wing shift around you tighter.

“She’s not for sell.” Hawks says hoarsely.

Shigaraki laughs, “what, you take the princess too?”

he stopped when they didn’t laugh with him.

“are you fucking serious.”

Dabi looks around, “a little bit.”

“You can’t be a little bit serious, why the hell did you kidnap her?!” Shigaraki whisper yells.

Hawks sighs, “it was an accident.”

“you don’t just accidentally kidnap someone, dipshit.”

During all of this chaos, you look around- it feels more crowded than before, you never liked crowds anyway.

But a man catches your eye, a very beautiful man at that.

Blond hair, blue eyes, dimples, a lazy smile with a relaxed pose- lord have mercy.

and he’s looking at you too!

All conversation behind you has been absolutely lost, this man is the only thing you’re thinking about right now.

Hawks wing isn’t entirely around you- you could just sneak away for a moment couldn’t you? I doubt Mr. bird man would care.

so you step out slightly- no reaction from hawks yet. then more, no reaction.

“Damit shigaraki, it was on accident okay?!” You can hear less and less of hawks the more you scoot away.

Then the gorgeous man is right next to you!

“Hello, pretty” he says with a smooth voice.

“I-I uhm- hi!”

“What’re you doing all the way in Skinningrove? Your skin looks it comes from the capitol.”

Slightly weird but that’s alright!

“I-I’m traveling, for work!” you reply almost too quick.

He touches your wrist, his hands are soft.

“You’d go for a pretty penny.”

“what was that?”

All he does is stare at you, with that lazy smile…okay you’d like to go back to Hawks now.

you take a step back but the man grips your hand tighter, “h-hey, let go.”

“God, you’d go for a fortune.” You can feel hawks feather fall out of your cloak.

He grabs you, covering your mouth and dragging you towards the iron scented shops.

Meanwhile, hawks is still arguing quietly with shigaraki.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t killed you in your sleep!” Shigaraki roughly says.

Hawks groans, “she likes me just fine, we’re civil.”

He looks towards where your supposed to be, “isn’t that right prin-…”

where are you?

“princess?” He says a little more worried.

Dabi looks at hawks, “what?”

“Where is she?”

“Who, y/n?”

“yes- where is she?” He says more quickly, looking frantically around.

Shigaraki starts, “Well good job, you lost someone you kidnap-“

“Shut up! Where did she go?” Hawks cuts him off.

Dabi looks around, “calm down, she couldn’t have gone far.”

Hawks wings puff slightly, “I’m going above ground, easier to spot her.”

He immediately shoots up ti the air, searching for even a glimpse of you.

.

.

.

The beautiful man is still dragging you through the streets, you whip around wildly trying to get him off of you.

“Stop struggling, no one will help you.”

The smell of iron gets stronger, was Dabi actually serious when he said they’d skin you?

You struggle more, you don’t want to be someone lamp shade o-or carpet!

You get closer and closer to the butchers door, you close your eyes, you don’t want to see.

“AGH-“ *smack!*

you fall to the ground immediately, you can hear people gasping and stepping away.

You can see Dabi come into your line of vision, “there you are!”

you wish it were hawks but- your just glad your safe.

Where is hawks? You turn your head to look for him but Dabi ends up stopping you, “don’t look.”

you don’t. You can hear it, grunting, the sound of flesh being hit, the running and cheering.

So all you do is stare at Dabi, “You scared the hell out of him yknow? better say thank you when he’s done.”

done beating a man to death. It makes your skin rise, makes you feel cold.

The noises stop. You can hear people usher to the man, then you can see hawks start to walk over to the carriage like he didn’t just pummel a man.

then, he starts giving your belongings to shigarakis hole-a-wall shop.

Dabi speaks up, “doubt we can sell it all here, need to go somewhere else after.”

your speechless, your father never let you even see blood.

you feel dirty even though you didn’t see anything really.

Dabi stands up, “cmon, let’s go meet up with them.”

you just follow, and sit at the front of the carriage with Tokoyami.

He looks at you, “told you Skinningrove was terrible.”

you exhale a small laugh, at least he tried to keep you happy.

you look towards the crowd, you don’t see the man but- you see specks of red.

“Thanks a bunch, shigaraki” you can hear Dabi say.

“Yea just make sure princess doesn’t run off again eh?”

You feel the carriage shift with Hawks and Dabis weight.

Tokoyami starts, “where to next?”

Dabi pauses, “Sunstone.”

Tokoyami stumbles, “In the dessert?”

“Yea, shigaraki says we’ll find some good prices there.” Dabi replies.

Tokoyami looks back into the carriage, “yikes, you need something to dress those knuckles Hawks.”

Dabi chuckles, “he don’t know how to tie a bandage barely.”

“I bet y/n does” Tokoyami says.

You say, “What?”

Tokoyami fixes himself, “I bet you know how to dress a wound, being the eldest daughter and all.”

It’s true, you do. You always dressed your sisters wounds when they tripped outside near the garden. Your father never liked you near blood but you still someone always came near it anyways.

“I uh…I do.”

Tokoyami smiles slightly, “will you do the honors then?”

you sigh and step into the covered part of the carriage.

Hawks is shaking slightly, maybe he’s not used to beating people…who are you kidding he’s a thief.

you sit directly in front of him, grabbing some cloth and trying to rip it. It doesn’t work.

He takes it from your hands, tearing it for you, you’re able to get a better look at his hands. They’re covered in blood, it’s your fault.

you grab the container of water and dab it onto the rag, cleaning his wounds softly as he winces quietly, griping your hands a little tighter.

“Mrgh…”

“Sorry..”

Hawks doesn’t reply.

You wrap the cloth around his knuckles, are you okay…?”

“m’fine.”

something’s off, he seems angry? upset? maybe even a little sad too.

“are you sure, Mr. Hawks?”

He says quiet, looking down at his shoes.

“Hawks?”

“Why would you run off?”

“I-i was distracted.”

He huffs, “I know you’re not completely stupid y/n, why did you run off.”

He seems a whole lot more upset than you thought he’d be before you snuck off.

“I saw something that caught my eye..” you dab more water on the the rag.

“or someone.” he says with distain.

“Hawk-“

“y’know. I knew your were probably some princess who was aching for a bit of loving but I didn’t know you’d start whoring yourself out.”

You mouth drops, “h-hawks?!” Why would he say something like that to you, weren’t you two making good progress?

You can see Dabi look over in surprise but he decided not to intervene.

Hawks looks up from his shoes, “What, It’s the truth ain’t it?”

It’s true that you are a little bit touch starved and that you enjoy attention but you’ve also been inside a palace for most of your life.

“Y-you don’t even know me.”

“I know enough, I can tell through your damn actions y/n.” He voice raises, “You think some locked up princess will ever be as good of a ruler than your mother?”

“Don’t bring her into this-“

“Why? Cause your daddy said “off with her head” and you weren’t allowed to talk about her no more?” He yells at you.

Then carriage goes quiet. Mother made your father soft, he didn’t need that.

you can feel the tears burning the edging of your eyes, you can feel the pain resurface.

Dabi speaks up finally with just a simple, “oh wow.”

You don’t say anything, what would you say to something like that? No one ever talked about your mother like that.

So your tears fall instead of words.

“Y/n..” hawks says softly.

He continues, “I-I was just angry- I’m so sorry.”

You just cover your face a curl into your own lap, hiding, hawks placed his hands onto your back and continues talking.

“I swear I didn’t mean any of that princess, didn’t mean a single thing ‘swear it.”

You don’t respond.

“Fuck, m’sorry, m’so sorry princess- I just was angry because I couldn’t protect you okay?”

You sniffle, “I-it’s fine.”

“It’s not. M’sorry, princess.”

He holds you, you feel warm- mostly because his wings are trying to wrap around you.

You never knew hawks could get so….emotional?

The words he spewed out from his mouth did hurt but he seems like he’s actually sorry at least.

He just holds you, you wished he were one of your sisters- you missed them oh so much.

They would never say something like that to you, they were too scared to.

At least Hawks was honest. That’s probably what you liked so much about him.

you hug back.

He tightens his grip.

And his embrace is warm.

[fernclans]

MOON 05. (part 2) (tw; none i think!)

Starring: Cliffpaw (BuddingClan), Flippaw (BuddingClan), Amberpaw (BuddingClan), Dashpaw (BuddingClan) Mentions: Magpiestar (FlintClan)

“May all cats of BuddingClan gather beneath the Echoed Stones for a clan meeting!” A ginger feline called before leaping, landing unsteadily at first atop their clan's gathering place; a set of three stone pillars, one taller than the others, where the leader, deputy, and head mediator would sit once upon a time.

“UGH- finally!” A small rosy brown molly bemoans loudly as she bounds around the grassy slope beneath, claws catching dirt between them.

Another cat strides forward, rolling his eyes when he sits. “You don’t have to say the whole thing every time, y’know Cliffpaw? It’s just the four of us.” Dashpaw teases, shooting the other tom a playful wink to show he’s not being serious.

“It’s better than us completely abandoning the traditions our clanmates died fighting to protect.” Amberpaw sneers, not picking up on the toms’ lightheartedness.

The half-white tom’s cheeky expression dissipates into a flat one of disappointment. “You don’t have to suck the air out of every situation, Amberpaw. Lighten up will you?”

“Could you two wait until after my ceremony to argue?” Flipkit complains, shooting both of them an exasperated look and sparing Cliffpaw from having to break things up himself. Both felines seemed startled at the younger cat's comment, both reacting with their own levels of embarrassment and apologies. 

Cliffpaw clears his throat one more time, dipping his head to Flipkit in appreciation.

“Flipkit, you have reached the age of six moons and are ready to begin your training as a warrior of BuddingClan. From today forward, you will be known as Flippaw; while I can’t act as a proper mentor for you, we will all work together to complete our training as a clan.”

“I won’t let you down!” Flippaw meows back enthusiastically while Dashpaw and Amberpaw call her new name in celebration.

The cheering subsided and the three apprentices looked to Cliffpaw expectantly; there was still one more ceremony which needed to take place. His own.

For once, the confident tom looked uncertain, his remaining yellow eye concentrating down on his paws. “I, Cliffpaw, feel as though I’ve completed my training and that I am ready to take the full responsibility of BuddingClan’s first full warrior.” Not that he hadn’t done so already moons prior. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure what I should call myself. Since I was a kit I always imagined Magpiestar being the one to do it, I hardly spared the thought of thinking of what I would want it to be.”

“You could just skip a step and call yourself Cliffstar.” Dashpaw meows jokingly.

Cliffpaw grimaces. “Even if StarClan didn’t smite me for that, I’m not sure I feel ready to call myself leader- not in that way.” He was a leader, but he didn’t feel quite like he could be the leader. "Besides, I haven't even trained an apprentice yet."

“How about Clifftalon? Or Cliffsnarl? Something cool and intimidating!” Flippaw chirps, eyes shining.

Amberpaw chuckles beside her. “Do you think Cliffpaw is intimidating?”

“Do you think Cliffpaw is cool?” Dashpaw jeers.

“Well I don’t, but other cats might.” The youngest of the four explains.

“Hey--! Come on!” Cliffpaw perches on the edge of the stone, tail swishing behind him. His vision spins slightly as he looks between his clanmates, claws sinking into the stone and moss for stability.

“Right, sorry.” Amberpaw shakes her head, looking up at him and taking notice of his unsteady state. “Do you want to get down? Dashpaw’s right, it is just the four of us…”

Cliffpaw shakes his head, regaining his former posture. “No, not until we settle my name.”

“What about Cliffstone?” Dashpaw meows, almost seeming sincere before following it up. “Because once you’ve set your mind on something, you’re as stubborn as one.”

Cliffpaw begins to grow frustrated. “I’m not that stubborn.”

“Yes you are! Only a cat as stubborn as you would make it back home with that kind of an injury still fresh.”

“Dashpaw kind of has a point.” Flippaw interjects. "He would've let CypressClan take care of him until they forced him to leave." All but Dashpaw laugh, the brown and white tabby tom feigning offense for dramatic effect. The moment subsides, leaving them back to where they'd began.

Amberpaw hums thoughtfully. “How about instead of stubborn, we can say reliable? Even after you were gone for days, we were sure you were coming back.”

Cliffpaw seems taken by surprise, a warmth filling his chest. “How sure?”

“As sure as the stripes on your back.” She smiles.

Cliffpaw goes silent, tapping his tail rhythmically against the pillar while in thought. “...how about Cliffstripe?” 

“‘Cliffstripe’?” Flippaw echoed. “Isn’t that a little… basic? Come on, Cliffpaw! You fought a WOLF for StarClan’s sake!”

The dark ginger tomcat bristles somewhat, forcing his fur to go flat before replying. “We lost everything to those monsters- I won't give them my name too.”

Silence again fills the grassy slope, all cats feeling heavy under the weight of the past five moons. It's Amberpaw who breaks the silence again. “So, Cliffstripe, right? I like it.”

Dashpaw speaks next. “Yeah, it suits you.”

“Mm. It’s fine.” Flippaw pouts, just hoping that her suffix will be different.

Cliffstripe gives a weary smile, slowly easing his way onto the soft ground. He brushes against each of his clanmates, a deep purr rumbling in his throat while they depart.

[quillthrillswriting]

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i've always said that late teens aang would absolutely give flirty silly goofy flynn rider energy and now i've written an entire kataang fanfic to support my delusions.

my last promo post had all the actually serious and eye-catching moments, so for this one, i just put together all the moments that i found fun:)<3 enjoy some silly excerpts from "all at once, everything is different," AKA kataangled!!!

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“Stop where you are, Avatar,” Prince Sokka shouted, his voice echoing between trees over the sound of his horse, Hawky. 

The Captain of the Royal Guard, General Toph, did not use nearly as formal language. “When I catch you, you lily livered-” 

“Can’t hear you over the sound of Appa outrunning the both of you!” Aang crowed triumphantly, leaning forward to pat the white and grey horse on his arrow-addorred head. On his shoulder, his monkey-lemur, Momo, chittered his agreement, sticking out his tongue at Sokka as he tauntingly waved a small satchel of bean-curd puffs at the prince.

“Toph, are you seeing this?” Sokka’s tone was irate, utterly incredulous. “The little thief’s rat thing took my lunch!”

“‘Little thief?” Aang clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I have a formal title, y’know. Or have you both gotten so haughty and royal that you can’t show a commoner any respect?”

Toph snarled, the earth reaching up to meet her as she strode after Aang, cutting through stone and dirt as if it were a still pool. “I’ll give you my respect once you earn it, twinkle toes, and you certainly won't if you keep running from us like this.”

Aang twisted to face them, assuming a meditative stance as he cocked his head teasingly, his tone mockingly pouty. “But I’m just so good at it!”

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“Did you see which way they went?” From the sound of his voice, Sokka was both irritated and incredibly embarrassed. 

“No.” Toph’s voice was flat, utterly unaffected. “Obviously, I didn’t see which way they went.”

An awkward silence passed as what Sokka had said sunk in.

“Oh. Right. Um, my bad, Toph.”

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“Hey, I don’t know who you are, or where I am, if I’m being entirely honest. I genuinely don’t mean to intrude. I was just hoping for a place to lie low. I happen to be…” he trailed off, coughing awkwardly. “On the run from the law, it seems.”

Katara cocked a brow, her tone incredulous. “You expect me to willingly harbour a criminal?”

“You seemed to have no problem with trapping one in your house.” Aang huffed, crossing his arms. “And I’m not some common criminal. I’m a monk. It was more of a steal-bread-to-feed-the-hungry type situation, if you can believe that. And I do have a name, beyond “thief” or “mysterious but devilishly handsome home invader.” It’s Aang.”

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It took Aang a day longer than expected, and the moment Aang saw Katara’s face brighten at the sight of him, he absolutely refused to let it go.

“You really did miss me, didn’t you?”

Katara refused to respond, but to Aang, her silence spoke volumes. 

“Awe, you really did,” He grinned, reaching to ruffle the top of her head as she swatted at his hands. 

“Even if I did miss you-”

“-you did.” Aang interrupted. 

“Which I didn’t ,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

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Now, standing on the precipice of going against almost every single one of her mother’s wishes, she was beginning to get cold feet. Perhaps Aang could read that in her face, or maybe he just felt like messing with her, because when she hesitated for a few moments longer, he simply pulled her over his shoulder, racing toward the river that pooled by the edge of the clearing, as Katara giggled wildly.

“What are you doing ?” She managed between laughs.

“Grass seemed too scary, so I figured I might as well reconnect you with your birth element.”

“ Aang .” Her voice grew flat as she put two and two together. “Aang! Do not throw me in the-”

“Too late!” He crowed, jumping into the deep end, still clinging onto her.

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“We have to get you to a hospital, Aang. I don’t want to risk reopening the wound. Kissing can wait.”

“No, it cannot ,” Aang declared decidedly, dipping her low as he pulled her in again. “19 years was long enough to wait without ever kissing you. Now is the time for kissing.”

“Now is the time for the hospital .”

Aang wrinkled his nose, brutally offended at Katara’s prioritisation of his health. She relented, a soft smile spreading across her lips, as she pulled him in gently, kissing him again. 

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♥ feel free to check out the entirety of this fic & my ao3 here! ->

[chickenparm]

Tradition - Part Eight

Check out @drawlypsy’s full version of the header that can be found here!

“Sn-Snezhnayan tradition dictates in a traditional battle, the winner is allowed to request one thing from the-” another cough, born from phlegm in his throat that rattles wetly, “from the loser.” (or, You accept a bet and despite not winning, you’re not sure if you’ve actually lost.)

Previous Part | Next Part AO3 Link

Childe/f!Reader 2,123 Words - SFW (Bamboozled into marriage, awkwardness, fluff, future smut)

---

Childe had said before that his mother was a saint. 

If so, then why would he avoid telling either of his parents of his impending nuptials? 

Following Teucer’s footsteps in the snow, you walk with the other two siblings back to what you assume is Childe’s family home. With his descriptions being as fond and intricate as they were, you’re able to pick it out from a small cluster of others. In the front there’s an obvious space for chopping firewood. A stone wall encapsulates what would be a front garden if this home were in any other country that allowed for a garden. 

Instead, it holds a few half-made snowmen, scattered sticks that have been tied together to create what seems to be swords with little handguards, and a stone bench that is close enough to the home that it doesn’t accumulate snow. The chimney above it shows that the fireplace must be on the other side of that wall. 

At the front gate, Anthon grabs your arm and speaks once more with that serious voice that doesn’t seem right coming from someone who likely still plays with the wooden swords in the yard. “Remember, don’t tell her about…y’know.”

“My lips are sealed.” You promise, even though you’re not sure why you’re doing so. Wouldn’t it make it easier to just come clean? Surely this saint of a woman would appreciate knowing that her treasured son would be doing exactly as she wished him to. 

And then you remember his other words. About how he came back different. Not quite himself. Angry, combative, impulsive. Something rumbling beneath the surface that they didn’t know how to tame in the same way they once had been able to wrangle their overexcited son. 

Childe was still as excitable, he said so himself, except it wasn’t the same. Once that energy came, the only way to vent it was through combat, discord, havoc that made his blood sing merrily in a strange echo of a song his master seemed to have composed herself. 

All it takes for mistrust to bloom is the tiniest spore. It spreads rapidly in ways you don’t expect. 

No, perhaps it’s better that you say nothing at all. 

The pathway is carefully shoveled and maintained, not even a lick of ice to be seen. Lucky for Teucer. You make it to the door, then the children give you no further time to prepare before they’re opening the door and announcing their arrival with, “Ajax’s friend is here!”

The title makes your fist clench beneath the security of your cloak. Countless times, Childe has called you comrade, yet even now with his ring on, you’re not confident that the amount of times you’d ever thought of him as a friend would need more than perhaps a finger or two to count. 

“Tsk, look at you, not even muffs to keep your ears from freezing.” A woman snaps you from your reverie as she reaches for your ears and pinches one - you don’t even feel it. They are cold. “Sit by the fire, we can get your cloak off when you’re a little warmer. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

The woman is pushy. She pushes you further into the home. She pushes you to sit down. And when she is satisfied you are warm, she pushes the cloak from your shoulders and hangs it near the fire to dry a little more before putting it up elsewhere. Only then does she realize her mistake, and introduces herself as Galina. 

It’s a pretty name, and you tell her so. Her smile doesn’t have any of that tension that Childe mentions, and in fact her eyes seem to sparkle as she thanks you for such a compliment. 

You wonder - as you stare into the fire while she bustles in the kitchen to continue the meal she’d been making with an extra portion added - how many of Childe’s “friends” have arrived here and were less than cordial. Certainly the Fatui wouldn’t be rude, not to a Harbinger’s family, at least. But Galina had seemed so delighted at something so simple as a compliment. 

The point is driven home as she returns from the kitchen as dinner is set to simmer, and pushes something warm and liquid into your hands. “You’re not a coworker of his, are you?”

The wording is specific; Teucer still is unaware of Childe’s alignment. You’d nearly forgotten. Yet her delivery speaks of the amount of times she’s had to entertain the very coworkers that she fears you’re part of.

“No, I’m not. I truly am just a… friend.” The single syllable of that word makes your hand feel heavy. You remove it from the mug and tuck it beneath your thigh to try and hide the way you want to fidget with it. “We lost contact a while ago. He told me about his family, so I thought this would be a good place to look.”

Galina’s eyes dart to the movement of your hand, but she doesn’t seem curious or intrigued. It’s the instinct of a human to naturally look at any sudden movements. After a beat or two, her lips turn into a frown and she shakes her head. “It was a good idea, but he hasn’t returned home in some time. The last letter he sent didn’t have a return address, so he got reassigned elsewhere and we won’t know until he sends another.”

In the past, you’ve been told that you’re rather like an open book. Your heart sits on your sleeve and your emotions are plain on your face. Disappointment must have shined through, because Galina reaches out to place a hand on your knee - it’s warm through the thick fabric. “But you’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you need to come up with another plan. Ajax is very prompt with sending a letter once he’s gotten to wherever new place he’s meant to be.”

“When was his last letter delivered?”

“He dated it for a month ago, it was delivered last week.” Galina answers, obviously understanding that you’re coming up with a plan already. 

If it was dated a month ago, and delivered last week, then that would leave three weeks for the travel time. Quite a distance, considering you had arrived here from Liyue after nearly a week yourself on that boat. You take a cautious sip of the steaming mug, hold back a grimace at the temperature, then ask with a burnt tongue, “And where had he been stationed before that?”

“Let’s see… Teucer has the letter in his bedroom somewhere, goodness knows where it might be now. But the last few letters have been strange. Quite a few haven’t had return addresses, and the ones that do are all over the place. They must be running him ragged.”

Then that settles it. With a little sigh and another sip now that you can’t feel the temperature anymore, you ask, “Could I stay until his next letter arrives?”

---

Childe doesn’t quite know the specifics of what has been happening in Sumeru. 

For the most part, all of the Harbingers take action separately from one another. Individual moving parts that accomplish a variety of goals, both personal and for the cause they’re tenuously united under. Some perhaps more tenuous than others, of course. 

But it must have been something truly concerning, if the figure in front of him is anything to go off of. 

“Lesser Lord Kusanali has graciously held off on ordering any sort of forceful ejection. I think she hopes you’ll find what you’re looking for and leave.”

The young man in front of him is familiar, somehow. There’s a twisting in his gut, almost as if Childe is very aware that this person is distasteful to him in some way. The sort of sensation you’d feel toward a coworker you’re forced to cooperate with while enduring a bad attitude and a big mouth. 

Childe’s lips turn down, and he tilts his head a little to get a look beneath the brim of his hat. Faint reminiscence spikes again, but Childe never forgets a face, especially of someone so rude to him for seemingly no reason at all. 

Or, for a reason he’s not involved with. Whatever Dottore did here, it’s not Childe’s concern, and his impatience shines through, “If Lesser Lord Kusanali would just let me know the Traveler’s whereabouts, then I’ll be out of Sumeru faster than you can blink.”

The figure’s shoulders tense, his lips turning downward. “The Traveler. I should have known. If the Fatui are looking to finish the job, you’re too late. The Traveler left the country over a week ago.”

A week. So, he’s behind. You’d be arriving in Liyue at this point, most likely. Childe’s mind wanders for a moment as he does the math on travel times and the likelihood of you smacking him if he were to just grab hold of you and kiss you already-

“Well? That’s what you came for, isn’t it? Get lost.”

“Look, whatever happened here before, I didn’t have anything to do with it. So you can drop the hostility, unless you’re looking for a fight?” Childe has already mapped out the area; it’s secluded enough that there would be no risk for intervention. However, there’s an Anemo vision on this one’s person, and that could be either a good thing or a bad thing.

The figure scoffs, violet eyes rolling to the sky if not for the wide brim of his hat blocking the way. “Oh, I’m well aware you had nothing to do with it. I just don’t like you, Childe.”

And now Childe wants that fight. It was a taunt before, now he’s chomping at the bit beneath a carefully calm veneer. The only sign of what lurks beneath is the tweak of his jaw muscle. The young man’s chin juts to the side, his arms crossing. “Well? What’ll it be? I’d love to fight and make you fall even further behind.”

God, still Childe hates him. It isn’t until he’s nearing Gandharva Ville that he wonders why his thoughts supplied a phrase of such familiarity. 

…

For how long he’s been stationed here, Liyue could serve as a comfortable replacement for his homeland, if necessary. It isn’t, of course, but at least he’s relaxed in the atmosphere as Zhongli tells him that you had been here only a few weeks before, asking for Childe’s location. 

“And you didn’t tell them to wait?”

“You would have me ask the Traveler to waste an indeterminate amount of time waiting for you to return to Liyue?” Zhongli levels him with a deep-set expression of dissatisfaction. “Even I think that’s a little too much to expect.”

“I’ve come back within weeks every time I’ve had to go elsewhere. This wasn’t that different, you know that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Zhongli is normally willing to patiently ignore any poor argument that Childe will put out for the sake of allowing the conversation to flow, but there’s a strange impatience in the Archon’s body language as he leans back in the chair. Is that his foot tapping? “What I do know is that the reason you continued to default here rather than elsewhere is currently in another country. Why would I assume you’d return to Liyue otherwise?”

Childe’s mouth snaps shut so quickly his teeth click together, and his train of thought slows to a halt. It’s a valid point, and one that he’d quietly accepted, but he didn’t expect Zhongli of all people to get him backed into a corner like this. 

A comfortable corner, one that Childe accepted, but trapped nonetheless. 

“Does that mean the Traveler was here, though?”

…

“So, the Traveler’s fiancé comes trotting into my shrine. You’re like a little dog, sniffing at the ground, following a trail. Or perhaps even a fox?”

“If the Great Guuji Yae labels me as such, then a fox I must be.” Childe doesn’t like the look in her eye. Yae Miko knows all of his secrets at just a glance. The false cut of his smile does nothing to hide them. “My intentions are only good, however.”

“I never claimed they would be otherwise. But I might be suspicious now…”

“Guuji Yae, please-”

Yae’s voice lilts with laughter, the tips of her fingers ghosting over her mouth as if they would do anything to hide it. Childe is certain that her eyes are glowing. “Oh hush. I’m well aware of what you’re here for. But I’d still like you to say it.”

Childe’s cheeks hurt from smiling when he so desperately wants to scowl. His cheeks are just warm enough for him to feel embarrassed further. Why was it so easy to say these sorts of things to you, but not to nearly anyone else? 

“I’m looking for my… Traveler.”

“Your Traveler? I wasn’t aware you had one. Could you describe them for me? In great detail?”

“My fiancée, then. The Traveler. Guuji Yae, if you could be a little more forthcoming, the distance is growing larger the longer this takes.”

Yae makes a sound behind her teeth, one that sounds disappointed as if she’d been looking forward to further haranguing and harassing Childe. As her lips twist into an annoyed frown, Childe wonders if she perhaps used a magnifying glass to burn ants to amuse herself when she was young. 

“They chartered a ship out of Ritou.” And it isn’t until he’s almost to the steps of the mountain that she relents further and calls, “To some dumpy little fishing village. I heard it’s quite cold this time of year.”

---

It’s an odd week. 

Briefly, you meet Childe’s father, Maks. At first, you expected someone similar to Childe in build, but the man is more akin to the shape of a bear than a human being. Dinner that night is interesting when you sit between Anthon and Teucer, picking at the fish on your plate as Maks scrutinizes you through bushy eyebrows with deep-set eyes. 

It’s difficult to see where his gaze is tracking to. At first you think it’s your face, then your left hand, then the way you nervously pick at your plate. You’re not quite sure. But then something changes and he tilts his head up a little - the serious expression is gone, and in its place is a surprisingly jovial smile. 

Maks is a fisherman - the captain of his own boat and crew. Due to the hazards of moving through the ice fields, his returns home are limited to once every two weeks or so to drop off their catch and visit family. When you explain that you’re a friend of Ajax’s, his smile wavers for just a moment and you catch a glimpse of that tension you’ve been told about. 

And then it’s gone. And Maks is laughing and saying he’s glad his son has made some friends that aren’t so entwined with his line of work. Teucer’s head tilts to the side, his mouth opens, breath whistling through his missing teeth, and you hurriedly answer, “Yes, I just don’t have the charisma to sell toys, it seems. Not for lack of Ajax trying to recruit me, though.”

Maks nods in approval - of what, you’re not quite sure.

By the next morning, he’s packed up to head back out on the water, announcing he’ll be back a bit sooner than usual In passing last night, he mentioned that despite the income being sent by Ajax, Maks can’t quite hang his hat up just yet. There are twenty men working on his ship that depend on the employment and wages he provides. 

And the sea calls him, he says. Perhaps there’s more of Maks in his son than he thinks; fighting calls to Childe like the sea calls to his father. 

Maks kisses his wife, hugs each of his children from oldest to youngest, and yanks you into a hug as well that you’re dwarfed by. You’re not sure how to respond, but he doesn’t give you a chance before he’s murmuring, “You’ll be good for him,” and pulling away to leave once again. 

Galina doesn’t show that she’s overheard anything, and the children are already off to take care of their morning chores. You’re left alone standing near the front door, a chill creeping in at the bottom of the frame as you ponder what exactly that might mean. Your toes grow cold through your thick socks, but you don’t quite feel that as you remain distracted. 

Childe’s mother calls to you from the kitchen, and you hurry along to assist without a second thought. And later that night, as you lay on the cot near the fireplace with your blankets piled high and your eyes following the shapes of the flames, you wonder about the last time it was that you felt like you were home. 

The feeling you’re having now is so unfamiliar that you wonder if you can recall such a time at all.

[league-of-legends-hcs]

Viktor breeding kink….?????

Like to me it just seems like he’s getting very interested in the science of life so would he or would he not just end up happening to start railing the life out of an apprentice who he just might have had crush on for a while??? And attempt to knock her up

Y’know….. for science

Do you see that happening or……

The thing with Scientists and Bees

WARNINGS: NSFW, Smut, 18+ PEEPS!

You had been working with Viktor for a while now, knowing about the man's work ethic. It would be a lie if you said you weren't worried about him... But this was the drop that made the dam burst.

It had been a normal day in the lab, you were busy cleaning and organizing Jayces files since that man was horrid at keeping them cleaned and neat, when Viktor cleared his throat and looked at you. "Little bee," you scrunched your nose at the nickname he had given you (he claimed you were always buzzing around the lab, barely ever sitting still like a bee) and turned to look at him. He seemed to be a little flushed, a light tinge of pink in his cheeks and his breathing a little uneven, "are you... Familiar with.. Ehm.." You tilted your head and smirked.

Something was making him nervous and you assumed it had something to do with you... You bit your lip and sauntered over to him. "Oh no way! The one and only stone cold and always calculated Viktor is at a loss for words!" You sat down on his desk, legs crossed as you said "Quick, give me something to write this down!" You teased, leaning back on your hands.

The scientist now took a deep breath, his golden eyes shimmering in a way you hadn't quite seen before. You could see him recollecting his thoughts and when a moment had passed, he stood up, placing himself right in front of you, his presence alone now causing you to uncross your legs.

"I've been wanting to do this.. another way, but it seems that you leave me no choice."

You were about to ask what the hell your friend and secret crush meant by that when he pushed your thighs apart, his calloused fingertips sliding along your thighs gently yet with a bit of force behind it. "Viktor... What the.." he silenced you with his lips on yours, the kiss slow and sensual... And absolutely flustering to you to no end. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks instantly and when the agonizing moment finally ended, you needed a minute to catch your breath, completely bewildered by what just happened, but Viktor? He smirked.

"I've been pursuing a theory..." He muttered, leaning in, placing his soft lips on your neck, causing you to shudder. Your hands tensed into fists, still very much steadying you on his desk. "I have noticed that you spend a lot of time around me.. that you blush whenever I come a little closer to you.. and Jayce can be hugging you, yet.. the blush of your cheeks only shows up when it's me... And... You see.." he pushed you back a little, causing your shaking elbows to give out, placing you on the desk, the scientists tall form looming over you, "Your taste in novels is pretty peculiar... So now.. instead of being a nice gentleman about it as I originally planned.." his fingers trailed along your neck, making you shiver and goosebumps run all over you, "I... Will take the leap and..." He cleared his throat, a little unsure still, but he said it anyway, "I will ravage you."

You could swear that your heart just stopped for a moment. The urge to clamp your thighs shut was strong, but with every growing second, with every moment of silence, Viktor seemed to grow more confident. You weren't moving. You weren't shoving him off, you weren't yelling at him or asking him to move away...

"Oh look at that..." He teased now, his hand slowly sliding towards the buttons of your blouse. "My little busy bee is at a loss for words for once.." the buttons popped one after another. "I'll have to write this down in my notes..."

He had you wrapped around his finger the bastard. Never had he shown any interest in you romantically or sexually and all of a sudden... This?! "If you want me to stop, say the word. I do not want to make you uncomfortable... " He muttered now, avoiding your eyes a little... But you shook your head. "No. Nonono don't stop!" You begged way too eager for your own liking. And when those tantalizing eyes of his found yours once more, full of surprise, it was like a switch was turned. Gone was the man that was unsure of his own actions and doubting if he had read the situation right...

He smiled confidently, freeing you of your blouse. "You, my dear..." He purred now while kissing up your chest, then to your throat, then back to your lips and before he kissed your supple lips once more, he told you "You keep me up at night.." it sounded... Hungry... Almost starved.. and it made your core tighten a little.

"Whenever I look at you, I feel this urge..", he admitted while trailing his hands along your sides, "I want to fuck you stupid."

You squealed a little, your eyes falling closed at the way he played with the waistband of your bottoms. "Lift your hips for me, beautiful." He purred now and you obliged immediately, a chuckle leaving the man at this display. "You're just as eager as I am it seems.." he muttered now, one of his hands closing around your throat. "Fuck... Viktor.. I.." you stuttered, unable to withstand him any longer. "Yes dear... You are aching for me.." and as if to prove his point, he pressed his clothed crotch to yours which was now only clothed in a thin layer of your panties... Which were drenched already.

"I wouldn't be a man of science if I did not tell you about my... Urges a little more." Viktor now pushed the tip of his index finger into the wet spot of your panties, feeling you shudder a little. "Viktor please I.." for now, he didn't relent. Viktors eyes darkened a little, a dangerous glint lying within them as he pushed the tip of his finger into you deeper, your panties now drenched in your own juices. He did not want to let you speak yet. Not before you had heard him out.

"I want to put a child into you." He said now, his voice strained, as if he had trouble holding himself back, and you felt like all the air was knocked out of you at once. Not just because of his words, but somehow the scientist had removed your underwear without you even really noticing. Your skin was on fire, you felt like you'd choke in your current clothes and Viktors presence completely overwhelmed you at this very moment.

"I like you.." he confessed, a smudge of red on his cheeks as he pushed two fingers inside you. You tensed around him and breathed out an unsteady "Fuck... Yes!" Which made the man smirk. Hastily he peppered your face, your mouth and your neck in kisses, his two fingers still working your hot, wet core.

"I want to fuck you... Breed you..." His face now laid in the crook of your neck, teeth lightly nibbling on the skin there. "I want to taste you, every little bit of you... And I want to revel in the feeling of this..." He gulped and let out a shuddering breath before continuing, "this... Pussy around me... I've been thinking about you, little bee... For such a long time you have been haunting my dreams..." Now, he motioned 'come hither' with his fingers deep inside of you, brushing along the sensitive spot hidden within. It was as if he knew how you worked, as if he knew where he had to touch to keep you teetering on the edge... And it was agonizing. his fingers felt delicious, the stretch comfortable and the sounds pushing you further and further... But you didn't want to come like this...

"Then.. f-fuck me already!" You whined out, unable to play any games for much longer. Viktors eyes widened a little, his mouth lightly agape, the movement of his fingers slowing to a halt, making you groan in frustration. You tried to grab his hand, but he removed it from inside of you and used his other hand to gather your wrists, pinning them above your head while he pushed his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. "Such a good girl for me... Who knew you could listen without talking back for once?"

A shiver went through your body. Since when was Viktor like this? He was... Seeping authority and dominance.. completely contrary to his day to day appearance.

You mewled in response to his lightly mocking words, your tongue still swirling around his digits. With a low chuckle he removed them from your mouth and kissed your deeply, his clothed erection grinding against your naked, desperate cunt. "Fuck you're wet..." He purred and let his fingers slide along your slit for a little.. but you could barely take it anymore. You just wanted him inside of you.. you *needed* him inside of you.. because who were you gonna lie to... You found Viktor insanely attractive. His intelligence, the way he carried himself, the way he always stood behind his word... He made you so weak whenever he glanced at you in the lab or when you heard his rough morning voice.

"Please Viktor... Please just..." You were almost sobbing in need, completely forgetting where you actually were. "Please what, little bee? Speak to me." He purred, his voice now steady. Now he was sure. Completely and utterly sure that you felt the same way... And knowing this... He could play with you. He cupped your chin with his free hand, smiling lightly. "Use your words, baby. Use those pretty lips to tell me what you need.. and I'll give it to you." He forced you to look at him, his pupils were blown and his cheeks flushed, his chest rising and falling a little more rapidly than usual and he was shaking just the lightest bit.

"I need... You to fuck me.." you rasped out, your face hot with embarrassment... And he was so cruel sometimes. He plunged his fingers back into you and asked "I am, no?", in an innocent tone. "Or... Are my fingers not enough for you?" You rapidly shook your head, to which Viktor took a deep breath. "Do you want my cock, dear?" He asked you now, straight up staring into your soul. You nodded and gave out a meek "...yes". And now, he caressed your cheek, kissed you once more and purred "Good. Very good.. who am I to deny you, my dear.."

With those words he undid his pants, pulling his underwear away with it... And your eyes widened. You'd dreamt about him a lot but you didn't really expect him to be.. *this* well endowed. "Surprised?" He quipped and pulled your attention away from the thick, hard cock that was so close to where you needed it yet way too far away.

Forming a coherent sentence was not really on your mind whenever he began to guide himself into your heat, curses and gasps sliding from both of your lips, only muffled by a feverish kiss. You felt the stretch.. fuck he was huge... Yet gentle. He let you adjust, even though you could clearly see him hold back. "V-viktor.." you blabbered and wrapped your arms around his neck, spreading your legs a little more so he could sink in even deeper.

"Sssssh... I know you can take it.." he assured you, softly patting your hair. "Relax... Please dear.." he huffed, your tightness being a lot to take for him as well. "Fuck you feel so good.." he let you know, broken huffs and moans slipping from your lips. And when he had fully buried himself in your cunt, he let you adjust... You felt full, but not quite full enough. Something was just missing.. and you knew exactly what it was.

With a shaking voice you let out a small "I-i want your cum... P-please.." and all of his resolve was thrown out of the window at this very moment. It seemed like those words made him lose control and he began to move, to thrust into you. Slowly at first, slowly moving in you, slowly letting your back move along his desk, but it did not take very long for him to speed up, to hammer into you, to press against you with all he had, and you were squirming too much for his taste.

"Be still, dear... I will make you feel good... I will fill you up until you're dripping with my cum... Yes.." he huffed, grabbing the backs of your knees and bending them so your legs were pressed against your chest and nothing would leak out. "Nngh... Vik.. Vik please.. cum inside... I wanna.." you could barely string those words together with how hard he pushed into you, at which pace he abused your cunt, wet sounds echoing throughout the lab, only accompanied by your moans and his grunts.

His thrusts grew erratic and your nails dug into his back as he leaned over you to kiss you, your breaths choked and broken by tears of need.

When he began to circle your clit with his thumb, you felt like you'd burst apart, shivers wrecking your body as your orgasm wrecked you thoroughly... But Viktor wasn't done. He fucked you through your high, praising you for how good you're doing for him, telling you how you're his good girl and purring that you've earned a reward.

And that came in the form of his cum deep inside of you. You squealed and could swear you almost came again from the overstimulation... When he had finished coming, he pulled out of you, his hands now back on the backs of your thighs, your legs still next to your head. You had been delirious for a bit, but even after you had come down from your high, Viktor was still holding your legs up.

"what... Are you doing?" You asked him, wiping the sweat from your forehead with your forearm. The man titled his head at you and said "Making sure nothing leaks out." With a sigh you sat up, watching the mixture drip onto his workspace. "If it does.." you purred and slid onto his lap now that he had plopped back into his chair, "You're just gonna have to fill me up again."

A wide grin spread on his face. "Oh I intend to, don't you worry, little bee..." Then he kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your middle so he could hold you on his lap... And this was only the beginning of a long night.

Oh anon.. thank you so much c: I've needed exactly that bit as inspo for this man. I just took the prompt and... Idk. It became a lot more than intended. Sorry for the wait!

[noturlondonboy]

If Kate + Kate Makes Two… (Prt. 2)

-Bishova/Kate Bishop ¿Selfcest? Miniseries

Request and concept art images by @selfcestmovies

Masterlist

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Kate Bishop

Summary: Yelena takes the two Kates to visit Dr. Strange, who counsels with Wanda Maximoff and America Chavez about Kate’s predicament. However, they aren’t lucky enough to provide good news, and Kate is left feeling even more discouraged.

Warnings: angst, not proof read

A/N: another! Welcome Wanda and America, I missed you

The thick coat wrapped snugly around Kate’s body does absolutely nothing against the persistent chill in Dr. Strange’s spooky magic apartment- the saline sanctum or some shit, she was too freaked to remember or frankly even care- and pulling it closer to herself only serves to make her shiver harder.

“God, I hate it here,” she whispers weakly to herself, teeth chattering as her eyes dart around anxiously.

“Tell me about it,” her own voice says softly back.

Kate’s head whips to meet identical blue eyes, and she swallows thickly as her face pales for the millionth time that day. The Other Kate was walking a few feet behind her, with a very concerned Yelena between the two of them as they followed behind Dr. Strange. Kate doesn’t respond to her (to herself? What the fuck) and just turns back around to stare at the floor as they walk. She doesn’t see the flash of disappointment in Other Kate’s eyes (HER eyes) when she looks away.

“Strange? Where are we going?” Yelena calls out, her deep voice as irritated as it is worried. Kate finds herself shuffling closer to her girlfriend, (???) the blonde the only source of comfort she currently could find.

Yelena must notice her unease, because gentle fingers trail over her arm. They’re only there for a moment, however, before they disappear and the woman’s hand falls into that of Other Kate.

Kate swallows again, hugging herself tighter. Maybe the cold had nothing to do with her discomfort. Seeing her girlfriend view her with weary confusion was doing something mean to her heart, but then again, Kate can’t blame her. She still does a double take every time she looks back and sees a long golden braid and not the choppy cut she had been recently accustomed to.

But also, there was an exact duplicate of herself back there, too, so, y’know. What the fuck’s all around.

“Run me by exactly what happened, again?” the sorcerer finally says, his voice interrupting the panicked spiral Kate had been sinking into as he glances at her. He leads them into a long hallway and then into a side room with high pillars and bookshelves lining the walls, and Kate has to take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting.

“Well,” she mumbles, tugging anxiously at the coat on her shoulders, “I got home. Um. Everything seemed pretty normal for the most part at first. But then different things kept popping out at me.”

“Like what?” Strange doesn’t look back at her again, his magic pulling several books from the walls and hovering them down to him.

“I’m used to the cupboards being pretty well stocked, but they were a little pathetic,” the archer says, laughing weakly. There’s a soft noise of complaint from Other Kate behind her, but it’s quickly hushed by Yelena. “And the furniture was back to its old arrangement.”

She leaves out the part about her devastation when discovering the Stone Age Animal Crossing island.

The sorcerer hums to himself as he leads through books, his mouth a thin line. “This sounds like a pretty simple problem,” he eventually says, his eyes finding Kate’s. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen people get a little misplaced in time like this.”

“So you think it’s time travel?” Yelena speaks up, her voice weary. “Why didn’t just her brain do the traveling?” The blonde stops and looks between the two Kates. “Does that make sense?”

Strange doesn’t give any of them a chance to respond before he’s opening up another book. “In most cases of singular personnel time travel, you would be correct, Yelena. The conscious awareness would be the only thing aware of any change. Usually, we don’t end up with double of someone unless there were outside forces pulling some strings.”

Kate can feel her head throbbing, and she presses a hand to her eyes as they ache in her skull. “I don’t fucking understand. Someone else pulled some shit and space-timed me out of place, or something?”

“Or something,” Other Kate mutters under her breath, shifting nervously on her feet. Yelena’s hand twines with hers again. Kate bites back against the bitterness in her throat.

“Alright, keep telling me what happened,” Strange beckons, his eyes darting over the pages of several different books as they float in the air above him.

Kate swallows. “Ok, well… Yelena got back to the apartment, and I freaked out, because she suddenly had long hair again, and then I had to sit down because I was freaking out more, and then another me walked through the door.”

“And she passed out,” Yelena adds, incredibly unhelpfully.

Kate shoots her a look, but she wilts when she sees the weariness in the assassin’s eyes. God, she would give anything to curl up in bed right now and sleep all the confusion away.

Dr. Strange nods and hums to himself. “I’m going to call on Wanda and America and we’ll figure something out. In the meantime, Kate, Yelena, you need to keep her in your line of sight at all times.”

Kate opens her mouth to comment but stops when the two women behind her mutter their agreements, and Kate turns to look at them with a puzzled expression. “Wait, me? I don’t need to be babysat.”

“You’re the anomaly here,” Strange says simply, shrugging as his magic swirls around him. He disappears through a sparking portal without another word, and Kate stares at where he had been just moments before.

“What the actual fuck,” she mutters to herself, rubbing her hands down her face. Nothing but silence greets her back, and when she glances at Yelena and Other Kate, they’re watching her with a sense of unease and confusion.

“This isn’t a fucking zoo, you can stop staring,” Kate mumbles weakly, her shoulders drooping as the situation seems to really hit her. She lets out a breath and sinks down to the door against a pillar, resting her head between her knees and wrapping her arms over her neck.

There are soft whispers and some shuffling from the two others in the room, and after a moment, a soft hand rests on her knee. The archer glances up with tired eyes, meeting Yelena’s gaze.

“Are you alright, Kate Bishop?”

The familiar title has tears building in the back of her throat, and Kate shakes her head as her lips press into a thin line. “I’m scared,” she admits, her voice breaking.

Yelena’s eyes are kind, and they ease some of the tension in Kate’s chest. “This feels like the kind of thing you’d be all over,” she says softly, her head tilting. A few feet away, Other Kate is nodding slowly, her expression thoughtful.

“I know, right?” Kate laughs tearfully, pressing a palm to her eyes as they start to leak. “I’ve always been so interested in space-time shit. I just never thought I would actually see it happen to me. And just the fact that I don’t remember how or why it happened… I don’t know.”

Yelena squeezes her knee gently. “I’m sure we’ll be able to figure out what happened and get you back to where you belong.”

Kate stares at the blonde for a moment before a humorless chuckle sounds in her throat. “This is so fucking weird. I want to kiss you, because you’re my girlfriend, but at the same time you’re not.”

“Yeah, that’s gotta feel weird,” the Other Kate mutters, her eyebrows scrunched. Yelena nods in agreement and purses her lips.

“What’s your Yelena like?” the Yelena in front of her asks, head tilted to the side. “Is she much different? Is your universe completely changed, or is it just older?”

“It’s just older, from what I can tell,” Kate says quietly, feeling grateful for the excuse to talk about her girlfriend. To… herself. And… her girlfriend?

Jesus Christ.

“You, um… she…? You have shorter hair. You got it cut just recently.” Kate smiles weakly and rubs at her eyes. “It’s really pretty.”

Yelena’s cheeks go a little pink, and at the same time, Other Kate looks down at her girlfriend with a soft whistle. “You would look super good with short hair, babe,” she agrees.

“She does.” Kate and Other Kate share a smile for the first time, and Yelena glances between the two of them.

“Strange better figure out how to send you back,” the blonde mutters, and both archers give her a puzzled look. She rolls her eyes and stands, brushing her knees off. “I can barely handle one Kate Bishop. How am I supposed to live with two of you constantly trying to charm me?”

That makes Kate’s heart feel a little lighter, but at the same time, the worry that’s been growing in the back of mind pulses.

What if I’m stuck here?

With myself?

——

It’s several more minutes before another portal opens up, and Strange steps from it back into the room with America Chavez and Wanda Maximoff on his heels. Both women stop and glance between the two Kate’s with a strange look on their faces, but Wanda recovers first and walks closer.

“Which one of you is misplaced?”

Kate raises her hand weakly, feeling childish as the witch meets her eyes. “Me.”

Wanda hums and circles her, her gaze focused as she takes in Kate’s form. “You don’t look like this universe is trying to get rid of you, so that’s a relief.”

Kate feels her throat tighten, and her eyebrows shoot up. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Oftentimes, when people are misplaced,” America chimes in, arms folded over her chest, “the universe they enter recognizes that they don’t belong and will do everything it can to get rid of the foreign entity.”

“Which could entail…?” Yelena says slowly, her eyes narrowed.

“The very fabric of Kate’s existence would be torn apart if she didn’t leave quickly enough.”

Yelena’s face pales, and Kate presses a hand to her stomach as it blanches.

“Not your Kate,” Strange quickly says, motioning to the Other Kate a few feet away. “Just the misplaced one.”

“My head hurts, holy shit,” Kate grumbles, her eyes screwed tightly shut as she rubs at her temples. This was all so fucked. She just wanted to go home.

Wanda’s hands are gentle when they land on Kate’s shoulders, and the archer looks at her after a moment. “It’s going to be alright, Kate,” the witch says kindly, her smile warm. “We’ll figure out why you’re here in no time, and then make a plan to help you get home.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” Kate whispers, her throat tight.

The woman nods and offers Kate’s shoulder a squeeze before walking back over to Strange and America, and the three of them talk quietly together, different books and hand gestures Kate doesn’t understand between them.

The archer wraps an arm around her stomach, leaning her other elbow on it and biting anxiously at her thumbnail. Wanda’s presence was a comfort, especially knowing just how much knowledge and power she possessed about this sort of thing, but Kate’s belly was still tied up into sharp knots. At one point she starts to pace around in circles, and the sight of Yelena and Other Kate talking softly and shooting her worried glances nearly sends Kate into another spiraling mess.

She suddenly stops in her tracks, eyes wide and jaw a little slack as she realizes that Yelena- her Yelena, future Yelena- couldn’t possibly have any way to know where Kate had gone. How long had it been since Kate disappeared? Was her girlfriend okay? Had she noticed? Was she worried? Panicked? Did she feel abandoned?

“Kate, hey.” Soft hands are suddenly on her arms, and Kate’s head snaps up to meet an identical pair of blue eyes. She doesn’t realize that she’s nearly started to hyperventilate until the other archer’s frown deepens, and the strange weight that is her own hand on another person moves to rest over her sternum.

“Breathe. I get it. You’re worried about Yelena,” Other Kate says gently, her eyes wide and conflicted.

Kate nods jerkily, her lips parted and trembling as she struggles to force air into her lungs. Of course this Other Kate would know what’s on her mind, it’s herself for crying out loud.

“This is so weird,” she chokes out, her hands toying nervously with the zipper on her coat.

“Yeah, yeah- it really is. But it’s gonna be okay,” Other Kate offers, eyebrows raising with sympathy as she does her best to keep her tone even. “Wanda will get it all figured out, and Strange and America will be able to send you right back to where you need to be.”

Kate nods again, rubbing her palms against her eyes. “Right, yeah. For sure. It’s fine.”

“Do you… want a hug?”

Kate looks up at her again, at herself, at her own face that stares right back, and gives a little nod, shuffling forward. She wraps her arms around the other woman’s waist, her face pressing into her shoulder and taking in the familiar scent of her own body. It was strange, to see her own face and hear her own voice, but to also have the same skin under her fingertips? She could almost pretend it was her mother, or a cousin- but a wave of comfort that Eleanor could never have possibly provided washed over her when Other Kate hugged her back, hugging her just the way Kate liked to hug others herself.

“This is weird,” Kate says again, a soft, tearful laugh echoing in her throat as her arms tighten around Other Kate.

The woman nods in agreement, her fingers gently combing at the baby hairs on Kate’s neck in the way they both knew made her feel better. “Yeah. It’s weird. I’m hugging myself. Normally this would sound really sad, but it’s actually happening and not some stupid metaphor.”

This makes a real, genuine laugh bubble up in Kate’s chest and she steps away after a moment. “Man, I give good hugs.”

Other Kate gives a bright grin, and they both start rocking back on their heels at the same time. “I know right? We really are just a teddy bear.”

We felt so much better than her and me.

Kate’s responding comment is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and the three of them turn to see Strange, Wanda, and America all approaching with conflicted expressions. Except for Strange. He looks neutral. Unbothered, almost. It pisses Kate off.

She never did really like him.

“Anything?” Kate asks after a moment of tense silence.

Wanda’s mouth opens and closes a few times as she shares a look with America, but Dr. Strange is the one who speaks up first.

“We figured out what happened, and why, but… it’s a little more complicated than we would’ve liked.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Other Kate mumbles, and Kate can’t help but to agree.

Her throat tightens almost painfully, and her eyes dart anxiously to Wanda. “Not too complicated though, right? I mean, maybe you just need some time? To figure out how to get me home?”

“That’s… just the thing, actually.” America’s tone is nervous, and she flashes an apologetic look. “You’re kind of… already home?”

She’s met with three blank stares- two of which are identical and equally chilling.

“I don’t follow,” Yelena says, voice low and cautious, as if she knew they were all hurtling for an edge that Kate could topple over at any moment.

Strange beckons to America, who nods and takes Wanda’s hand as if to steady herself as she thrusts a fist out through the air in front of her. Light seems to shoot from her hand, and a dazzling, star shaped portal appears at an angle above the ground.

Kate’s breath catches when she first sees the blazing opening etched in blue fire and a bit of red, but then it catches again for a completely different reason. Through the portal she can see Yelena- her Yelena, with kind, mischievous eyes and short, choppy hair slicked messily back. Kate’s body tenses as she opens her mouth, as if to call out, to step forward and reach for the woman who held her heart, but another figure has her completely stopping.

Kate appears in the frame, her arms wrapping around Yelena’s waist from behind as the blonde cooks what looks like macaroni on the stove. The two women laugh softly and sway together, exchanging kisses and quiet words. It was a scene Kate was familiar with, one she valued and adored and always looked forward to on long days- but this specific one sparked confusion, and not recollection.

Kate watches herself kiss her girlfriend’s cheek and tug playfully at the hood on her sweatshirt- a sweatshirt that she had been planning on buying her the next day. Yelena hadn’t ever seen the hoodie at the time that Kate was tossed through space and time. This moment had never happened for her.

But there it was, happening before her very eyes.

Without her.

She had been duplicated. She was a clone. Kate was misplaced, with nowhere to even go back to.

Yelena did not even know she was missing.

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