#he's just lucky that his selfishness is in helping others and not like. himself.

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove: A Zombie Ghost Story (Chapter Six)

Summary: She had tried so hard all her life to be the perfect daughter, the perfect wife, in hopes that maybe someday, someone would love her. But that day had never come, and now it never would. Because who could ever love a dirty, broken thing like her? She had never been a person, only a piece of art—beautiful and silent, to be enjoyed and admired, but easily replaced. She had been traded from her father’s private collection to her husband’s, and he had knocked her off the gallery wall, had smashed her frame and ripped apart her canvas, destroying her value and leaving her with no sense of self. Who was she, if not the pretty, proper little thing the men in her life could show off and gain approval for? Who was she? Word Count: 3942 Warnings: still no smut (but Ghost has explicit thoughts), non graphic mentions of past abuse Notes: This chapter is pretty fluffy/funny actually! It's one of my favorites that I've written. Triple asterisk (***) denotes a POV change as usual, dash asterisk dash (-*-) is a time skip but not a POV change AO3, Masterlist

There was no food in the cabinets of the house, nor of the next five—though there were several other infected that Ghost had to kill. But in the seventh, they got lucky.

Lelia practically cried when they opened the pantry in the basement to find a shelf fit to bursting with canned veg and soup. She opened a can right then and there and devoured it like he had the buck, desperation in every swallow. He’d tried to stop her, to get her to slow down, but she wouldn’t listen, dancing out of reach every time he tried to clumsily take her spoils from her. Of course, she had thrown it all back up not two minutes later.

Ghost awkwardly held her hair back as she heaved, careful not to touch any other part of her, no matter how badly he wanted to rub her back soothingly.

When his dove finally stopped retching, she straightened up with a groan that sounded like one of his, her small hands clutching her belly. He reluctantly let go of her hair—or tried to. His stiff fingers got stuck in a tangle, and when he began to move his hand away, it pulled on it, startling a yelp from Lelia. He let out a panicked, apologetic gurgle, and tried again to free his fingers—only to pull her hair once more. This time, she whimpered, and for one delusional second, he thought it sounded like one of pleasure.

“Simon,” Lelia gasped, hands reaching up to grasp his own. He jumped at the sudden warmth, fingers twitching, wanting to curl around hers and soak up their heat. “You’re going to pull my hair out if you're not careful. Just— just let me do it.”

Ghost obeyed, going still as he simply savored the feeling of her skin against his. She carefully collected each strand of hair from between his fingers, sometimes grasping the cold, stiff digits and guiding them out of the bigger tangles. It took several minutes, and those minutes were the very best of his undead life.

He couldn't help but hold onto her hands for a few seconds even after she was done. She looked over her shoulder at him with a raised brow, thankfully amused and understanding rather than disgusted. She was so kind. She was far too kind.

“Did they lock up again?” She asked him. He groaned out a no but it sounded like nothing and so she took it as a yes, just like he knew she would. She gave him a sympathetic look and squeezed his hands lightly and—oh. He— he felt that.

He stared at her in awe as she twisted awkwardly around, her hands still in his. He knew he was being selfish, stealing her body heat when she needed it more, forcing her to touch him… but he could feel it. Not the softness of her hands, but the warmth and the pressure when she tightened her grip. Unbidden, he thought of another part of her that could give him the same sensations…

Ghost quickly let go, feeling guilty and terribly ashamed with himself. He kept having these dirty thoughts about her, and that would have been bad enough back when he was alive, an old man creeping on an innocent young thing like her. But now? When he was dead and decaying? It was foul. He was foul.

“Better?” His dove asked, oblivious to the disgusting images of her in his mind, of her beneath him, on top of him, on her knees, bent over a table—

He turned around with a noncommittal grunt, putting his back to her. He grabbed the rucksack they’d found in house number four, and began swiping the cans of food off the shelf into it. Several missed and fell to the floor, but he ignored them, not wanting to risk catching sight of Lelia if he went chasing after them.

Of course, it couldn't be that easy.

“You’re making a mess,” she scolded lightly, with no real heat behind it. He wished there was. He deserved her censure. “Let me do that. I’m not feeling nauseous anymore. Though if we stay in here much longer that might change.”

It did smell quite bad, the dust and mildew overpowered by her puddle of sick. But as always, Lelia’s sweet scent was the most prominent to him, delicious and tempting. The vile part of his infected brain that he couldn’t seem to shut up wondered if eating her out would be enough to satisfy his hunger for her.

He ignored just how enticing the idea was.

Ghost was silent as Lelia took over packing up the cans, hanging back, but he did take the rucksack from her once she’d zipped it up. She gave him a surprised but grateful look, eyes wide and a little smile on her face. He wanted to kiss her. But his fucking lips had rotted off, because he was a walking gods-be-damned corpse.

He was all out of sorts just from her holding her hand, like he was a virgin touching a tit for the first time. If his blood was still pumping, his dick would be hard as steel in his trousers. It was pathetic. And if his little dove knew, she’d run screaming for the hills.

For once, he was glad he couldn’t talk. It made it that much harder for her to tell that something was wrong.

***

Lelia walked next to her zombie as they searched the rest of the house for warm, sturdy clothes that fit her—a surprisingly difficult task—sneaking worried glances at him every few minutes. Something had upset him, but she wasn't sure what. Was he still embarrassed about the drool incident? He’d seemed to put it behind him, after they’d left that first house. She wished he could talk so she could just ask him…

They didn’t find satisfactory clothes in the next few houses. Simon had vetoed the pretty dress she'd wanted to bring with them—”I’ll only wear it inside, Simon, I promise! Just look how beautiful it is!”—pointing at the full rucksack to show they had no space for it. Lelia had eventually given in and put the dress back with a sad sigh, and they'd continued their search.

The sun was setting by the time they found something Simon didn’t growl disapprovingly at, but at least he no longer seemed so bothered, anymore.

The clothes—and the room they’d found them in—looked like it had belonged to a young teenage girl going through a very intense emo phase. Her jeans were skinny enough that they didn’t immediately fall off Lelia’s hips, and her shirts were incredibly tacky, full of what Lelia assumed to be band logos. She wrinkled her nose when Simon shoved one with overlong sleeves and thumb holes at her, aghast.

“You want me to wear this?” She asked, disbelieving. “It has thumb holes, Simon! Thumb holes!”

Simon’s face almost always looked blank, but right now, she had the distinct impression it was because he was trying not to laugh at her. She huffed, but didn’t protest any further. She did complain, though.

“A fashion travesty,” she mumbled under her breath, not caring if Simon heard her. It was strange. She usually didn't complain—complaining always made things worse, in her experience—but she felt safe with him. It made no sense—he was a zombie, and he'd admitted to wanting to eat her earlier that same day—and yet it was true. Simon, her undead companion, made her feel safer than anyone else in her life ever had. “I understand that it's the apocalypse, and options are limited, but thumb holes…”

When she returned from the toilet after changing into her new clothes, Simon held out a black leather jacket with studs on the shoulders to her. She physically recoiled. And to think, she thought things couldn’t get any worse.

“Absolutely not,” she said instantly. He shook the jacket in her direction, and she crossed her arms stubbornly, turning up her nose at it. “I said no, Simon! That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Simon rolled his cloudy eyes, and then gestured at his face and grunted disbelievingly. She didn’t understand what he was saying at first, and she looked at him in consternated confusion, before it dawned on her.

“That jacket is far uglier than you,” she replied honestly. Though Simon couldn’t be described as handsome, she’d grown used to his visage in the last few days. Ironically, seeing his sunken, colorless face, with its permanently bared teeth, broken jaw, and milky, white eyes brought her comfort, now, since she knew it meant that she was safe. That she wasn’t alone.

A face that was now looking at her with a distinct air of skepticism, despite its lack of expression. She could just tell—she was getting better at reading into the slight narrowing or widening of his eyes, his body language, and each noise he did or didn’t make. It was still impossible for him to communicate more complex ideas to her, but she usually understood his reactions to her own words.

“I’m being serious!” She replied to his pointed silence. “Leather jackets are vulgar. I would never be caught dead in one.”

Simon growled, stepping closer and shaking the jacket at her more aggressively. She made no move to reach for it, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. Her zombie growled again, louder this time, closing the distance between them and draping the jacket over her shoulders. She let out a noise of protest, but one quelling look from Simon had her shutting up. He was very close, close enough that she could smell the ever present scent of rot and death that clung to him. It was worse now than it had been after he'd first cleaned himself back at the cabin—likely because of whatever animal he'd eaten earlier—but not nearly as bad as it was when they'd met. Besides, she had started to get used to it. It wasn’t pleasant, but it no longer made her nearly gag every time she caught a whiff of him.

Undistracted by his scent, all she could think about was his proximity. She’d known he was tall, but he’d never been so close to her that she had to crane her neck to look up at him, even when their hands had been locked together back in the basement.

Inexplicably, she found herself blushing. Though his hands had been cold and rough, and he’d not actually been holding them of his own free will, they had cradled hers so gently, fitting perfectly around her own. It had felt nice, and she wanted to hold them again. She was just so starved for gentle touch. She had been her whole life, with parents who didn't love her and a husband that found joy in her suffering.

And how ironic was that? That a zombie was the first person in months—years, had it not been for the occasional shoulder squeezes from her governess Ulyana when Lelia did particularly well at something—to touch her with no intent to hurt her?

Spurred on by the memory, she uncrossed her arms and slid them into the sleeves of the ugly jacket, looking up at Simon hopefully for his approval. Another thing she had been denied constantly, growing up. She had never been good enough for her parents, no matter how well she did in school or how perfectly she behaved. She had tried so hard all her life to be the perfect daughter, the perfect wife, in hopes that maybe someday, someone would love her. But that day had never come, and now it never would. Because who could ever love a dirty, broken thing like her? She had never been a person, only a piece of art—beautiful and silent, to be enjoyed and admired, but easily replaced. She had been traded from her father’s private collection to her husband’s, and he had knocked her off the gallery wall, had smashed her frame and ripped apart her canvas, destroying her value and leaving her with no sense of self. Who was she, if not the pretty, proper little thing the men in her life could show off and gain approval for? Who was she?

She didn’t know.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever known.

Suddenly, she felt cold fingers brush against her cheek, and she was pulled out of her spiraling thoughts. Simon was looking down at her with what she could swear was concern, and he groaned softly, head tilted to the side in question. It was then that she felt the wetness on her face. She was crying, and she hadn’t even realized. And now Simon was gently wiping away her tears.

Her eyes grew hot and she could feel a sob building in her throat. She resisted the urge to lean into his kind touch, sniffling as she reached up to scrub at her face harshly.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, embarrassed. Simon tugged lightly at her jacket, like he was trying to carefully pull it off, clearly assuming that was what had made her so upset. She let out a wet laugh, though there was very little humor in it, and shook her head, gently pushing his hand away. She hoped he didn’t notice how she let her fingers linger against his for a few seconds longer than necessary. “It’s not the jacket. I just—I was thinking about something sad, is all. I’m sorry I worried you.”

***

Ghost felt like an arsehole.

The second his dove had looked up at him with those big brown doe eyes of her all shiny and wet, his undead heart broke. He’d never meant to make her cry—he just wanted her to be safe and warm, and the jacket he’d found would help do just that. The tough leather would protect her from glancing bites, as well as conserve her body heat. He hadn’t expected her to put up such a vehement protest at the thought of wearing it, though he supposed he should have. She was clearly used to the finer things in life, and her style was quite feminine. He remembered the look she’d had on her face as he’d presented her with the hiking boots he’d found back at the cabin, and she’d had to leave her dainty ballet flats behind. She’d seemed sad, then, but also relieved—though he figured that had more to do with the painful looking blisters on her feet than approval of his fashion sense.

Nonetheless, he hadn’t been about to give into her—admittedly adorable—pouting. He’d draped the jacket over her shoulders, and had been trying to figure out how he could get her arms into it without crossing any lines when she’d shrugged it on herself. For a second, he thought she’d come to her senses—and then he’d seen the tears.

Instinct—human, this time—had kicked in at that moment, and he’d reached up to tenderly wipe them away. The distant look in her eyes had disappeared, and it almost seemed like she’d leaned towards his touch before she’d pulled away, but Ghost knew he had to have imagined that part.

He let out noise between a groan and a gurgle at her apology, waving a hand dismissively as he tried to communicate that she had nothing to be sorry about. He was the one who should be apologizing—he’d clearly touched some sort of nerve, to remind her of something that made her cry. He only wished that he knew what it was. He only wished that he could ask.

They didn’t spend much longer at that house, using the last dredges of daylight to search the one next door. And it was a good thing they did, because they found a half empty water cooler in what appeared to be a home gym. Lelia, who hadn’t had anything to drink since they’d run out of boiled stream water, was overjoyed. Though thankfully, she did listen to him this time when he warned her to take it slow.

Ghost handed over a can of veg, then rolled up one of the yoga mats on the and shoved it into the backpack. If Lelia had to sleep on the ground again, which he knew she would, the mat would make it a little less uncomfortable… or so he hoped.

When his dove finished eating and had drunk her fill, she reached over and tugged the zip he was having so much trouble with closed. He grunted, half annoyed, half grateful, and she patted his hand soothingly. It made him jolt, that shock of heat, and as always, he struggled not to grab ahold and pull her as close as physically possible. She seemed far touchier today than usual—though that wasn’t saying much, as she had only ever briefly brushed her fingers against his hands before when removing his wet gloves—and he wondered if it had to do with him running out on her earlier to hunt. Like she was trying to show him that she did want him around, that she was glad he’d come back.

Or maybe she was just in a good mood now that they’d found food and water.

Yeah, that seemed far more likely.

“Do you think they’ve got toothpaste here? I’m sure my breath smells something awful.”

Ghost jerked his shoulders up in a shrug, but when she moved to stand, he did too. He straightened from his crouch with a creak and a pop, muscles locked from rigor mortis protesting the movement.

He followed Lelia into the toilet, her hulking, undead shadow, and his eyes crinkled a bit in a smile as she crowed happily over finding a mostly empty tube of toothpaste. She put some on her finger and began to brush her teeth with it, wisely forgoing the dirt covered toothbrush next to the rusting tap. When she was done, she turned to him, reapplying the minty smelling paste to her finger and holding it up to his mouth.

“Your turn,” she said, but lightning quick, he grabbed her hand, stopping her. She jumped, but didn’t pull away, just looked at him with those big brown doe eyes of hers. He grunted, shaking his head as he gently pushed her hand away from his face. He could feel drool collecting in the corner of his mouth again. He was floored by just how much she trusted him. He knew she had very little survival instincts, but even she had to know better than to go sticking her fingers in a zombie’s mouth. And yet, she’d been about to do just that. And he had no idea if he’d be able to stop himself from trying to bite down the second he tasted her hot, sweet flesh on his tongue.

He clumsily grabbed the dirty toothbrush—he was already dead, what were the germs going to do? Kill him?—wiped it off on his tactical vest, and then handed it to her with a pointed grunt.

“You want me to brush your teeth with this?” His dove asked, cute little nose wrinkled up in disgust. He would have nodded, but he could still feel the drool on his chin, and the last thing he wanted was a repeat of earlier. So he just continued to stare at her until she gave in with a sigh. “Fine, then. But sit down. You’re too tall.”

You're just short, he thought but couldn’t say. Instead he let out a grumbly huff of laughter, and then sat down on the closed toilet seat. She stepped closer so she was right in front of him, and his gaze was perfectly level with her small, perky breasts. The shirt he’d found for her clung to her tightly, accentuating the slight curves of her chest and waist. She was far too skinny, ribs showing through the fabric, but she was still beautiful.

He started to drool again.

She wiped it away on her sleeve, mumbling about thumb holes apparently being good for something, and then gently—more gently than he ever remembered being touched in his undead life or the bits of his actual life before that—cradled his broken jaw in one of her small hands. He blinked up at her slowly—not out of an actual need, but out of shock—and let out a strangled groan. She paused, looking at him in concern.

“Did I hurt you?” she said, wide-eyed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it still caused you pain…”

She moved to let go of him, and he lightly grasped her hand again, bringing it back to his jaw. In truth, he could barely feel it. Just a scant pressure and her addictive heat. But it was the fact that she was willingly touching such a destroyed part of him, and so tenderly, that undid him. She was… ethereal. Everything that he had ever been denied—softness and warmth and light and kindness. He didn't remember very much of his old life, but he knew enough that he had never experienced something like this—like her—before. Her existence was proof of heaven. He just didn’t understand what an angel like her was doing down on earth. Especially after it had turned into Hell.

And he certainly didn't understand why such a pure being would deign to touch a wretched monster like him.

He should have moved her hand away, should have stopped tainting her with his undead skin. But he was selfish, and so he just shook his head, tilting it back a little to look up at her.

His dove smiled at him, caressing his broken jaw sweetly for a second. His eyes went half lidded in pleasure, watching her as she carefully brushed his teeth.

“Your breath smells even worse than mine,” Lelia said with a little giggle, even as she grimaced in disgust. Somehow, she made the expression seem adorable, and her pure laughter took the sting from her words. She was teasing him, like she would a friend. The thought made his eyes crinkle slightly in a smile. She was being playful, and it looked good on her. Everything looked good on her, but happiness most of all.

His dove took her time cleaning his teeth, growing quiet as she focused. He could feel bits of flesh and fur unsticking from between his blackened gums, and he knew it must have disgusted her from the little wrinkle of her nose, but she didn't complain. She just let him spit into the sink before applying more toothpaste and continuing her task.

“There we are,” she said nearly fifteen minutes after she’d started, finally removing the brush from his mouth for good and letting go of his face. He mourned her touch, but her bright eyes made it a tad easier to bear. “Minty fresh.”

Ghost groaned quietly in thanks, and she wiped her hands off on a towel—he’d drooled quite a bit during the cleaning process, but she hadn’t even flinched—before yawning. He stood up, gently nudging her towards the door with his elbow.

“Yes yes, it’s bedtime, I know,” she said playfully, nudging him back. She looked excited. “There's a king mattress in the master bedroom—it will almost feel like home.”

Ghost huffed a laugh as he walked her down the hall. He took up his post outside the door, and her hand brushed against his as she slipped past him and into the room.

“Goodnight, Simon,” she said quietly, giving him a sweet smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, she was gone, the door shutting behind her with a soft click.

And once again, he was alone.

[cubbihue]

Did timmy.... Change? Like, mentally? When he became a fairy? He acts off about his time as a human, did he forget he ever was one? did he just shove everything in a trauma box and refuse to look at it? And what are the new rules he put in place and why? Just what are the consequences?

Timmy did go through a mental change! Fairies and Humans are fundamentally different at their core, so Timmy changed as he switched between the two.

Many of Timmy's personality traits are amplified once he became a Pixie, such as his selfishness, his stubbornness, and his inability to accept responsibility. Meanwhile other traits are suppressed, such as his empathy, rationality, and his pessimism.

Timmy can mitigate some range of control over it by practicing or avoiding those traits. Although it is rather hard to do, as Fairies can only experience a single emotion at a time.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[tteokdoroki]

✎ᝰ. OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING - katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

[CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST] katsuki bakugou as the beast + monster fucking. once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while ( 10.3K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, beauty & the beast!au, enemies to lovers, bath sex, soft sex, cum play, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, pussy jobs, body modifications, tummy bulges, premature orgasms, marking, biting, belle + fem!reader, beast!katsuki bakugou.

✧ fairy godmother's note - hello, time for our second kinktober fic yippieee!! i think this is my second time doing bakugou and monster fucking...he's just perfect for it!! anyways, enjoy my loves! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

the beast wasn’t all that bad. 

at least, not compared to most people back home. 

in the village, beyond the forest’s edge and hidden by evergreen foliage — the townsfolk believe you to be as beautiful as the world around you. eyes as bright as the golden sun rising over a hilly horizon. skin as soft as the flesh of fresh fruits hanging low from the trees. a voice that compliments that of early morning birds — gentle, kind. you’re the perfect vision. a perfect person. except for your one fatal flaw. 

you have your wits about you. it makes you strange. 

the people of your village think you were peculiar for having the tip of your nose poked into the spine of of a book each and every day. it’s not your fault that you enjoy the scent of their pages or that you find every story so alluring that you could read it over once or twice (and sometimes thrice). the people back home were unnerved by your intelligence — staring at you sideways if you daydreamed for a little too long (wishing for a life outside of your tiny province, one  full of adventure) or sending you concerned stares if you stumbled over your steps while reading.

it didn’t help that your papa was a whimsical inventor — his intricate machines that coughed and spluttered a little too loudly and left him covered in soot were often the talk of the town, worsening the whispers. despite the cruel opinions of others, papa’s love for you never faltered, all the while promising you that his prized tools would get you out of town, away from the people who called you odd and strange —  they thought him just as crazy as you. like father like daughter, you suppose.

then there was shindou. the most sought after bachelor in all of town and quite possibly the worst part about your old life. your life before the beast. the man was handsome, that much was true — his eyes and hair an inky black that would draw anyone in like a misty night. features, chiselled and strength obvious. shindou was pretty, eye candy without an ounce of brains. conversation with him felt like watching paint dry, he spoke so highly of himself you often wondered how his head hadn’t imploded from getting so big. for some reason, he was hellbent on making you his wife. not because you were smart, or liked to read and explore, but because to him… you were a pretty prize to be treasured.

so, when you stumbled upon the beast’s castle that night and gave up your freedom in exchange for your father’s, you hadn’t realised how lucky you were to be away from yo shindou and his crew. the village too. still, that didn’t take away from the harsh reality of your new prison. an enchanted castle, enclosing you in with the mangy beast. 

in strange ways, as strange as your mind, you found in your heart to feel sympathy for the beast, or bakugou as you’d come to know him. for many years he’d been cursed with a form cruel to the human eye — shaggy blonde fur, wild and blood red eyes and horns that were comparable to the devils. his selfish nature and a spell from hundreds of years ago had not been kind to the creature. from the sounds of things ( stories from the seemingly…alive…furniture existing within the walls of his withering home ) bakugou had failed to show concern or care in his youth, by taking a rose from a haggard old woman in exchange for a night’s worth of shelter. in return, she cursed him with the looks of a beast until he could find true love. 

his staff ( the furniture ) had told you of his crumbling hope and damaged heart. it still didn't excuse his odd behaviour — where the princely beast told rather than asked, scratched and smashed rather than communicated. he was much angrier than the other inhuman inhabitants of the enchanted castle. though…sometimes you noticed a tenderness swirling between the brown flecks within katsuki’s vermillion eyes, rich with a longing for affection that filled you with warmth whenever you caught him staring at you reading in the library he’d set up just for you or when he’d take you outside to feed the birds in the snow together. 

other times, katsuki could be somewhat…charming. since arriving, you could tell that he was doing his best to become a gentleman who toned down his anger. he fiddled with cutlery too small for his claws during meals with you just to be polite — denying his blush with a petulant pout whenever he was caught. he tried not to stare too long or at the wrong places whenever you spoke and spent time together. he wasn’t like shindou, who drooled over you like you were a piece of meat fresh from a roast. 

for a long time, you all but wished to find someone who understood you — who’d nurture your mind and the wind beneath your wings rather than see you as a prized pet bird to be kept in a cage. and over time, you had naively began to believe that katsuki, the beast, might have been the only person in this whole world to see you exactly the way you wanted to be seen. the hope that you had met your match flickered like a small candle’s flame in your heart — it reflected as a small glint of light in katsuki’s once exhausted, pessimistic eyes. you thought, day by day, that you could be happy here. with the beast. in place of your village back home.

just when you thought katsuki was changing, that maybe you could be happy here with the beast — you’re thrown back into a reality you had tried so hard not to face. katsuki is a beast, a cruel monster keeping you a prisoner in his home. you are not a friend who has free roam over his castle or free will under his rein, you’re reminded that you’re his captive in exchange for your father’s remaining life. your wake up call comes in the form of an argument, the result of stumbling across the forbidden east wing and a rose petal that wilts so pretty in the centre of an abandoned room. 

“i thought i fuckin told you never to come in here!” you could see it in his frenzied eyes, how the trust you’d built up with the beast so quickly came tumbling down. you’d crossed a line and an unspoken rule and no matter how many times the word sorry poured from between your plush lips — bakugou the beast was far beyond the point of forgiveness. he couldn’t trust you, and you couldn’t trust him. “leave!” he’d bellowed, snarled like a warning sign. 

katsuki had lashed out at you in a way you’d never seen before. like a wild animal backed into a corner. he’d shown you fangs and growled at you in a noise you know for sure humans don’t make. “get the fuck out!” he roared until you were trembling, throwing whatever he could get his clawed hands on whilst  splintering wood and shattering porcelain. 

you’d done just that, dashing down flights of stairs in terror while throwing your cape on. 

the inhabitants, his little candleholder sero and tiny clock denki along with the others, had tried to stop you. begging you not to face the cold bitter night alone on your horse but your judgement was far too clouded by your emotions — the hurt and betrayed wounds inflicted by the beast who’s trust you thought you had earned. the snowstorm outside rages with your unstable state, how could he scream at you like that? how could he say those awful things? it’s not long before you’re lost the ice cold and the daunting wolves that assume you’re a prey item like a vulnerable deer instead of a young girl with bambi eyes. 

viscous, wild, teeth and tongue snap at your horse — threatening to wound you both and draw blood. the animal that you ride, in turn, throws you to the ground in favour of its own escape. 

you can’t even blame the poor creature, only fools risk their lives to be at the mercy of a beast.

yet, your beast, your bakugou moved without thinking to save you from a bitter end. you recognise his growls before you see him — and before you know it the limp bodies of wolves that attacked you go flying over your head. their own howls and growls turn to pathetic puppy whimpers as bakugou fights them off, tooth and nail. fighting with all his might to protect you from getting your throat torn out. even if he’d frightened you, screamed at you and broken your trust — he wasn’t about to lose you to a brutish winter and a pack of hungry wolves. the blonde creature fights until his burly body is done and his claws are tainted with the blood of his enemies — wearily looking for you, checking you for wounds in such a gentle way you’re surprised out of your skin. heart racing.

you’ve never seen katsuki look at you that way, as  though he was just as terrified of you dying as you were at the thought dying yourself. its not long before his adrenaline wears off and the wounds he’d gotten from his battle finally take their toll on him.

it gives you the chance to run. to escape. to be home with your father. 

but what would be waiting for you at the other end? a marriage to a man with half a brain and six children to fill the void. people who thought you mad and crazy? you’d made a promise to stay with him, for your father’s life. there was no other choice but to lug bakugou back to his castle using all of your might. to help him. to save him. not because you wanted to, but because you had to. 

at least that’s what you’d told yourself as a way of pretending not not to care for him.

piping hot water sloshes around in the pearlescent tub, fit only for royalty. it’s taken you some time to fill it up to full volume with the help of some of the castles staff… or inanimate objects. momo the sweet little tea pot had been working overtime to boil fresh batches until the water level was high enough for the beast. you’re sure that her stout had nearly given out, but for her master, she’d pushed on. her dedication, all of their dedication (the candleholder, the little clock, the pots and pans and foot rests and dusters) make you wonder what had truly become of this place, a crumbling castle so dark and gloomy that it was left for ruin.

was the beast really worth all of this trouble for all of them to stay by his side and endure his foul demeanour?  

then again, why were you also tending to the beast? it’s not as if you enjoyed his company, yet you stay, drawing this bath to help tend to his wounds. the wounds he had gotten as a result of protecting you. 

you spare him your gaze once the bellowing creature ( now unusually quiet ) enters the room; no longer tailed by his animated inanimate servants — nothing but a roll of steam and a wall of silence separating the two of you now. though it’s hard not to look at how well he’s built beneath patches of straw blonde fur. 

katsuki’s arms are burly and toned, his chest is well sculpted as if carved from the very same stone that makes up the beautiful interior of his castle, whilst the angle of the beast’s face is strong, handsome. you wonder what he may look like completely human, if his jaw would still be sharp enough to cut through marble and diamonds. if his eyes would be narrowed and fiery, swirling with the riches of ruby gems. it takes all your willpower to tear your secretive stare away from him while he undresses in front of you, as though you’re not even there, heat growing rapidly in the middle of your face like the epicentre of an earthquake.

water sloshes violently as his hulking frame sinks into the bath, tinging it an ink stain of rosey pink from where it warmly laps over his open wounds — the sound of water hitting the smooth stone floor lets you know that you can turn around to tend to him. you keep your gaze lowered and mindful as you work, wringing a soft linen cloth in a clearer pot of the liquid mixed with rubbing alcohol. “h-hey, don’t do that,” you scold gently, lips falling into an unimpressed frown as the beast moves to lick at his cuts and scratches. bakugou pauses and squints at you menacingly while you reach for the same soggy paw he’d been tending to. you’d laugh if he weren’t so wounded and you weren’t so scared — he looked like a kitten. “i need to clean them properly.” 

an ignorant scoff from the blonde tangles with the soapy steam in the air, only earns him a roll of your eyes and a frustrated glare — his head angling itself away from you because he doesn’t want to give in and admit that your call of action would be right. you find it childish that he would ignore you but take to dabbing the first bleeder that you find with your alcohol soaked cloth, ensuring that it’s completely clean. the stinging sensation at the opening of the wound causes katsuki to roar at you in pain, baring the sharp edge of his teeth as if to threaten you with them.

you jump back, knowing that one wrong move could have you torn up by vicious claws and teeth. “just hold still!” you snap, raising your hands out of the way. “stop being such a baby and let me help you!”

“that fucking hurts, watch it.” he spits hotly, nostrils flared in annoyance. 

beginning to shake from a mix of anger and fear, you throw the bloodied cloth in your hand to the edge of the tub. the beast doesn’t look at you and your own temper flares. your face scrunches furiously and a cool snarl lays on the tip of your tongue — your own way of trying to put out the flames before they end in a disastrous blow out. 

“if you’d just kept still it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

crimson roses bloom on the surface of the water and bakugou whirls around sharply, both of your chests rising and falling at the impending explosion threatening to blow smoke into the crowded bathroom. “well, if you hadn’t have run away ‘nd straight into a shitty wolf’s den, then this wouldn’t have fucking happened!” he growls back with the air of a petulant child. 

“well you hadn’t fucking frightened me, i wouldn’t have run away!” your petty mouth surprises bakugou, you almost seem too pretty to curse — from the moment you’d first arrived at the cursed castle; your beauty had been a breath of fresh hair, hope for a brighter future on the horizon but since being cursed, any charm the beast… the prince might have had wore away over the years. leaving a husk of the man he once was, you have him stumped and spluttering for words, causing his staff behind the closed door to laugh.

an argument, though childish and silly, brews between you both like a storm coming from over a hill. neither of you dare to back down, not caring if you leave deeper and more emotional wounds on one another. katsuki doesn’t know how people work and you’re exhausted, missing home — the pair of you a ticking time bomb of disaster waiting to happen. “well… well, y’shouldn’t have been goin’ through my shit in the west wing!” bakugou reacts before he thinks, wet talons grabbing onto the crisp front of your shirt as he leers down, a gnarly growl clawing its way out of his throat to match the nasty sneer on his snout and lips. “i warned ya, shit happens when you don’t listen.” 

at the end of your tether, you forcefully push the herculean tyrannical beast back into the tub — using a surprising amount of might to fully submerge him in the hot water once more. “well you should learn to stop being such a stubborn brat and control your temper!” you’re hardly thinking rationally at this point, sick and tired of letting him think he can bully you into silence and submission… just because he’s big and has claws and sharp teeth that could rip meat from a live carcass. 

you move to shove him again but bakugou acts just as quickly — using his existing grip on you to yank you further into his bath. in a struggle and with a surprised scream that overlays his frustrated growling, you collapse against his furry chest and settle into his lap as water sloshes forcefully about the place and soaks through your dress — weighing down its fabric and slowing your movements. after a few minutes of wet wrestling; katsuki either gives up because of the pain caused by his cuts or refuses to fight you anymore — fully aware of what his size in comparison could do to you.

he slumps deeper into the tub, brooding, and an unbearable tension mounts in the air around you. the position has brought you face to face, breath mingling in the pocket of space and time between you both — above him, staggered forward, with your arms either side of his head for stability, katsuki feels that you’re close enough for him to reach out and just brush a thumb over the swell of your plush lips… gently grasp at your chin and maybe give you a kiss. he doesn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you or why he lashes out at you in place of sharing his true emotions but the beast casts his ruby framed gaze to the side, avoiding entering the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

after a moment, any anger that either or you shared fizzles away like a sparkler doused in a bucket of icy water. shame replaces the fire in your veins and you quickly distract yourself from less than proper thoughts of the beast by get back to work on the bleeders in his arms. “n-now hold still…” you tell him, swallowing thickly which undermines the authority in your voice. “it’s going to sting… so please, let me help you.” your voice falls into a tender whisper as you resume dabbing at his injuries with the rag.

bakugou snarls barks roughly while you clean him  up but soon relaxes into the water, comforted by your soft vanilla scent and the warmth of your thighs around your waist to keep yourself steady. now that he’s no longer directing his anger at you, the atmosphere dissipates into something more affectionate, hearts beating in calm sync — you sitting on his lap looking so pretty while the lukewarm water carves out the shape of your body beneath wet clothes. 

“by the way, thank you for saving my life back there.” 

“you’re welcome,” eyes closing, bakugou lets out a shuddered breath, his voice thick with gravel and bidy fidgety beneath your own. despite the cooler water surrounding you both, the temperature in the room rises like a solar flair — especially when your proximity increases so that you can dab up to the gashes stretching across his handsome fully face. when your eyes meet again, admist the work, the blonde is overcome with the urge to kiss you. he surges forward and presses your foreheads together, a large marred and hand encasing the swell of you thigh to pin you to his lap. the movement is rough, disturbing the peaceful bath water but the kiss he gives you is careful and cautious — slightly chapped lips swooping upwards to catch yours in a cute chaste kiss. 

you jump at the sudden contact, your entire body tingling with release and an excitable heat flashes through you at the brief sensation. you taste the blood in his mouth and salt on his tongue but before you can fully enjoy the moment —  katsuki is gone as quickly as he came. leaning back into the tub with a flushed face. 

it’s like your body misses him when he’s gone; despite never having him like this before. “wait… wait,” desperate whispers pour from between your subtly glossed lips and your bath water soaked hands come up to cup the fluffy edges to his face. “kiss me. kiss me again, katsuki,” 

surprised by the lack of rejection; bakugou’s talons sink further into the doughiest part of your thighs torn between obliging your request and keeping you far, far away from him. no one has ever wanted something like that… like a kiss, from him of all people. a horrid, ugly and undeserving beast. and yet, you borderline beg above him, hardly distracting from the wet glint in your eyes. you want this. want him. “are you… are you sure?” he tries to ask you, preening into your dainty fingers as they comb back his wet fur. 

“i’m sure,” you hum against him, wanting. “please. it’s what i want.” 

for a moment; it doesn’t seem like katsuki s going to budge. you sense his hesitancy, some kind of mental block that makes him hold back even as he leans in haltingly and noses over your Cupid’s bow. it’s like he’s testing his own confidence and your patience wears thin — so you open your mouth to plead, to encourage him only for the blonde beast  to delve deep into the yearning hotness of your mouth. his lips move against yours with a feverish air, unleashing hundreds of years of pent up emotion and revealing just how touch starved he must have been all this time.

from what you can tell, the beast has been alone for a long rime — shunned for his looks and the cool ice cage around his heart. you’re not sure if you care about any of that, not right now, at least. for your body wins the war over your mind and heart, all worked up by the mash of teeth and tongue that from the basis of your kisses. he gives you what you asked for, long and thick tongue pressing into every unexplored crevice of your eager mouth — starting an itch in your lower belly that you know only bakugou would be able to reach. 

having the beast like this, hungry for passion, wandering claws and sharp edged teeth nipping at your lips makes you needier and needier. you sigh dreamily into the sloppy lip locks, losing all control and pushing your hips down against katsuki. rubbing your thighs together over his wide lap is no easy feat, but you try, dying to alleviate the ache brought on by toothy kisses and the possessive sounds he makes when you try to pull away for air. he grunts gluttorally when your clothed cunt accidentally brushes against his impressive bare girth — the only thing separating your sexes being the water logged gusset of your panties, linen and pure white in colour.

you can practically feel his cock twitch beneath your legs as you straddle the beast, peaking out through his golden fur and hardening by the minute. his size should be intimidating to you, just half hard and he’s practically the length of half your arm, even if you were to give it some thought … you’re far too distracted. mind far too hazy — katsuki tearing away from your kiss to stamp a frenzied pathway up your neck and marking it with his claim. the action proves to you that his bark indeed matches his bite when he wants it too, vicious red eyes mapping their way over the unmarked parts of your skin — licking and sucking bruises just beneath the surface that’ll be obvious to the staff in the morning. tender to the touch later on as well.

he doesn’t leave you in pain for too long, lapping over the inflamed areas with his heavy wet tong — a paw reaching out of the bath to settle on the back of your head so he can further relish in the way you weakly hang over him. “so soft….so delicate,” bakugou curiously seeks out more spots along the column of your throat to see which ones make you tick and sigh for him prettily, your warm, wet pussy reacting to his quiet raspy tone and clenching around the water in the tub. with shaky hands, you weave your digits into the roots of golden honey fur in an attempt to bring his mouth back to yours. dying to taste the beast yet again.

you want more. you want to go further. perhaps it’s the adrenaline from having almost lost your life earlier on in the night or maybe you just want to find some sick way to thank the creature that saved it. but all you know, is that you want the beast — right down to your very core. you whimper in frustration and your pulsating pussy rolls smoothly over the beast’s swelling erection floating in the bath water, it’s not enough to satisfy you when you’re burning for his tender touch this bad. “please,” you coo airly, head tilting where katsuki kisses the point at which your neck meets your jaw, tongue dragging over your pulse point. “please give me more of you.” 

it’s a big ask, you know. to ask katsuki to be vulnerable with you when you’ve just been at each other’s throats. but you’ve always wanted to know him, from the moment he decided to keep you here in his castle — you’ve wanted to know who he really is behind the fangs, claws and fur. what better time than to ask him now, when you’re grinding against him in a bathtub that barely fits him and dwarfs you by contrast. “why?” bakugou murmurs softly; his fur tacking to your wet skin.

“because… i know you want me too. i-i want to give myself to you.” you huff, shivering at the tenderness in his voice which differs to the black claws that rake up and down your inner thighs, sneaking past the hem of your damp skirts to the scalloped edge of your underwear. 

your hands still track their way through his sun kissed fur, lifting his head from your chest to have him look at you. his vermillion eyes drink in every inch of your darling face, puffy lips and doe eyes that glisten under the flickering candle light in the regal bathroom. fucking hell, you were right. he wanted you. ‘course he did. 

“if that’s what you wish…” bakugou’s chest rumbles as he speaks before capturing your lips in a chaste kiss, earning warm pools of your slick through your panties, right against his hard cock. he secures his hold on you and shifts to lift you both from the tub — presumably to continue this in his chambers as you grind and grab at him.

however, you tug harshly enough on his fur to make him falter — droplets of water splattering from his silky coat to the tub when he freezes in place (half out of the tub). “w-wait!” shaking your head, you push him back down into the water. “you’re still hurt a-and shouldn’t exert yourself. stay… let me say thank you and take care of the rest,” a beat of silence echoes throughout the room, katsuki unresponsive to your offer. self doubt invades the cave of your skull over your brain, perhaps stopping him had given him time to think this through and regret. perhaps he was caught up in the moment and the beast truly did not want you. you can’t tell, you haven’t been able to read him thus far. his fold demeanour being all that you know. “u-unless i misread this and have pushed past your limits. in which case i’m extremely sorry—“

steeling yourself and putting on a polite smile, you prepare for the worst — pushing yourself from bakugou’s lap in the face of silent rejection. yet, as you turn to leave, a clawed hand darts out to grip your waste and forcefully shakes water from the bathtub. the action keeps you cemented and spread over bakugou’s naked, wide lap and his expression morphs into that of kicked puppy, as though he regrets what he’s done to you already. or not responding to you sooner. 

hesitancy occupies the electrified air, dancing in a confusing concoction with the desire that once buzzed through it. 

“it’s not that i no longer want you or want this,” the blonde admits gruffly, keeping his eyes on the waves in the water and toying with a loose thread of your sodden skirts. “i haven’t been… kind to you since the start of your stay. i don’t even know if i fuckin’ deserve to have you like this,” in spite of holding back, katsuki’s lungs burn with brightly coloured lust and affection, in shades of fiery red and sunset orange. the steam taking residence in the tiled room trapping you both in the unmistakable heat of desire. “i want you. i do. but ‘m havin’ a hard time believing’ that you want the same. i don’t deserve it. i’m hideous.” 

“that’s not true,” you tell him earnestly, cradling his furry wet face between your pruning fingers in an attempt to reassure him. even though he’s at his most vulnerable, your heart flutters against your ribcage at katsuki’s honesty — the beast finally opening up to you. if that doesn’t fan the flames of your desperation for him, then nothing else will. “you’re not to me, bakugou… and if it’s my words you don’t believe, then let me show you. let me help you understand.”

silence resumes as you let your words sink in, hoping that at least one of them has touched the beast’s heart as he has done with yours. 

and all it takes is one small nod from katsuki to know that you have — forcing your way into his mouth ( with his consent ) once more, tongue twisting with the pink of his own and uncovering the taste of bloody wolf against his teeth from earlier. the kiss is even more passionate than before, the both of you letting go of your inhibitions, swapping spit while your hands slip from the fur atop his head to run over the softer parts of his body. massaging and mapping out his strong pecs and beefy arms, appreciating every inch of the blonde beast so he never doubts your yearning for him again. 

the grinding resumes too, especially as katsuki’s affection-starved body grows used to your debauched touch and hungry kisses — head hitting the very end of the bathtub with a dull thud, sending water over its edge and to your right. you both move with more vigour, the blonde becoming more comfortable in matching your pace and thrusting upwards when you buck down. oxygen evacuates your brain, making room for the inexperienced creature below you every time the heavy, solid length of his cock drags slowly over your increasingly throbbing clit hidden behind panties drenched in both water and fresh waves of arousal. 

even with his sprouting confidence and belief that you crave him as much as he does you — the beast moves too slow for your liking, leaving it up to you to take matters into your own hands. quite literally scrambling into the depths of the water to shred off your panties keeping you away from smothering  bakugou’s monsterous cock with your silken slit. 

his length bobs upright in the water, slapping against his fluffy tummy while is bright red tip breaches the surface — shiny from evidence of his arousal. the pair of you share a hungry moan at the sight, a glossy white smearing over blonde fur, katsuki hard and heavy. he’s unlike any man you’ve ever seen, ribbed entirely along his shaft with balls that hang extremely low and full of seed. despite feeling his size against you before, your mouth falls open in slight shock at the sight, instantly watering — katsuki’s dick could be mistaken for a third leg, chubby and a mushroomed at the tip. you’ve never had a partner so big before.

a tapered whimper, so quiet that you almost miss it, bubbles on the seams of bakugou’s lips as he bites them with his pointed animalistic teeth. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i don’t know what i’ll do.” he warns huskily, throat bobbing beneath the sandy fur at his neck. “s’been a while… and i know it’s not like the humans you’re used to. it’s…big. so i understand if you don’t want to…”

“it’s perfect.” you purr lowly and cut him off, the sound rivalling that of the beast’s, leaning forward to spit on his sore red tip as it oozes precum and lewdly rubbing your palm over his cockhead and shaft to spread the lubricating mix all over him, letting it mingle in the water. “you’re perfect. i can’t wait to take you, make it fit. i want to be the one about to make you feel good after so long.” 

a strangled howl forms deep within his chest at your admission — his extremely large body palpitating wholly as you take the entire weight of his cock into your dwarfed hand, barely able to fit all of your fingers around him. you feel for the prominent vein in the underside of his shaft, pressing down on it while your remaining fingertips toy with the sensitive ridges and bumps that decorate him. 

when you look up at bakugou the beast with beautiful, big eyes he feels like he could die here. happily. in beast form and all. he could never be human again or break his curse and he’d be content to have you looking up at him like this, with his huge  cock in your tiny hand, be the last thing the blonde ever sees. “fuck,” he snarls tip bleeding hot arousal over your knuckles and into the tub, knees shifting apart to give you more room — sending water flying out of the bath. 

you inch forward again, breathing warmly against katsuki’s damp lips as he begins to weaken beneath you with every pump of his dick. “i can’t wait to see how you feel, i’m going to get myself ready for you. is that okay?” you check with him, even though his mane is tousled about with how fast he’s nodding. whispering faint pleads against your wet Cupid’s bow. 

“please… just hurry it up,” katsuki lets his temper flare briefly, almost as hot as the water that soaks his fur and your clothes. lukewarm at best. he rambles for the most part, brainlessly even. lackadaisically rutting  into the pathetic small circle your little fist barely makes around him — the force of his hips causing water to splash up against your dress. “‘m ready for it…” he adds begrudgingly. 

the sight of the beast’s submissiveness and desperation brings a smile to your cherry bitten lips, clit throbbing and cunt quivering around the water you sit in. “i’ve got you, don’t worry…” assuring him gently, your mouth hangs open and follows the sweet howl uttered from your partner’s lips — its volume just above the explicit, wettish sounds of your hand jerking off the entirety of his shaft. even though you don’t want to, you only slightly let up on the pace of your palm smoothly gliding in and out of the water ( around katsuki ) to pull him towards your bare pussy.

his hips canter and chase your heavenly grip, fat droplets of his precum flying about the place and into the tub from just how much the beast is leaking. bakugou feels his mind sink into a hazy fog when you lift your hips to hover over his girth, the fuzziness shrouding his brain showing on his muzzle and handsome face. bliss lines his vermillion framed eyes, those same eyes that flutter shut in anticipation. waiting for you to put your honeyed pussy on him and make him yours.

katsuki can’t contain the feverish pants that escape him when you guide his clawed paws to hold your hips and help lower you onto him. the closer your heated core gets to his seedy cock, the harder it becomes to breathe and the humid he exhales starts to mingle with your own. 

both of you hiss pitifully in unison at the first tap of the blonde’s monsterous cock against your sticky, needy mound. your aching clit instantly catches on the ridges of his dick deliciously, causing you to crumple against the beast’s marshy furry chest — gripping onto locks of gold around his neck to ground yourself, bring yourself back down from an immense and otherworldly jolt of pleasure that bounces from the tail end of your spine to the top of your skull. you feel as though your brain has been knocked about, bakugou languidly thrusting upwards to drag his length through sluice, puffy folds and grind against your clit — clearly seeking the heat of your pulsating sex. 

“s-so good, katsuki,” a sheen of sweat condescends against your skin, glazing you in a pearlescent shine while you throw your hips back and forth over the blonde’s fat dick. he’s in no better state than you, talons sinking into the peachy flesh to cope with the way you move feverishly above him. sweat beads at his hairline, murderous ruby eyes growing heavy and kisses and god, you think he looks so perfect like this. when his remorseless resolve comes crashing down and he takes everything that you have to offer. “think you’re so beautiful,” 

rose pink tinges hotly at his cheeks while he shakes his head — denying your praise. ropes of saliva forming connections between his sharp white teeth and his strawberry tongue while he tosses his head back at your praise, letting out a stream of enchanting moans. katsuki’s adam’s apple bobs between small whispers of ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ punctuated by the slap of water hitting the floor from your sinfully synced bodies. he doesn’t let up on buck of his hips to meet your sodden sex, your puffy folds spread perfectly either side of the meat or his shaft — allowing your arousal pearling pleasure bud to graze his cockhead rhythmically. causing both of you to quiver in ecstasy.

“‘m not,” the beast denies, drawing his hips far back until they meet the bottom of the tub before jutting forward — his entire length slipping through your soaked pussy lips until his breeders balls tap at your hole. “g-god… think you’re gonna make me cum…g-gonna make me…fuuuck!” he chants, eyes snapping open to capture your gaze.

the tail end of his words form a soft symphony of whines and animalistic chirps, like music to your ears. “i want you to cum, you’d be so pretty cumming against me, katsuki…” you continue to taunt him, following his movement by cheekily driving your fluttering entrance down against his bulbous cockhead — trembling at its thick diameter. you still have no idea how it’ll fit. “give it to me.”

you take his massive paw in your tiny hand, hooking his claw onto the bosom of your dress with trusting eyes. the sound of wet material ripping echoes about the bathroom, the blond having torn right through the damp front of what you wear. you slump forward next, pebbled nipples brushing pleasurably over katauki’s fluffy toned chest. his fur is slick and clings to the water droplets on your glistening skin — especially with your bodies submerged under the lukewarm water. 

“you… y’don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” bakugou slurs deeply, grinding the tip of his dick against the ring of muscle at your entrance as you glaze his painfully with sweet the honey nectar dripping from your cunt. he’s so close he can practically taste it, all he needs is one little push. so you take his hand, leading him into a mistified fog of love and lust — reaching up, you drag a tender finger over the dark black horns that spiral from between roots of sun kissed blonde hair and fur, revelling in the way katsuki’s breath hitches. “d-don’t… they’re fuckin’ sensitive…”

all you do is hum in response, practically pressing your chest to the beast’s face as you learn further up and teasingly drag the length of your tongue over one scaled black appendage, taking the second horn between your wet, pruney fingers to jerk it like you would his cock. “they feel good when i touch them?” there’s a certain husk to your voice that puts the man on edge beneath you, colourful language littering his tongue, spurts of precum clinging to the insides of your folds. “what if i…?”

your hot, warm mouth encapsulates the very tip of his horn and your cheeks hollow out so that you have the room to suck him down your throat — mindful of its jagged surface. you feel so full and in all the best ways, the thickness of his horn causing a swell in your throat. his bright red tip, feverishly leaking precum, just barely bullying its way past the tight ring of your entrance, tapping against your sticky pussy even under water. you’re drooling from every hole, every place that you could possibly be fucked in and it’s all for him — willingly sucking him down… its for him.

“fuckin’ hell… sweetness, please. when ya touch me like that ‘m gonna—“ that's what makes you swallow around the beast as his sensitive horn presses against your uvula, spit pouring out against it. 

even as his eyes disappear into his dark skull at the feeling , katsuki drools over you as though you’re a prime cut of meat — a claw drifting up from the fat at your waist to the now naked and pliant mounds of flesh at your chest. he squeezes your breasts tightly in his monstrous palm, each point of each claw digging into your skin until electric dopamine crackles quickly across your synapses — dizzying your brain and ability to function. his grip is so sinfully tight that it’s enough to draw blood, crimson rose petals inking their way between the valley of your breasts and blowing on the surface of the water filling in the tub.  

you don’t stop kissing and sucking on his horn — tasting the ash between each scale, like firewood. he doesn’t stop rutting against your sex, sloshing sounds fluttering through the air. it’s your moan around him that sets the beast off, choked and spluttered; the sweet symphony guiding bakugou through the rough terrains of his high like he’d done so for you outside. static erupts over his brain and numbs all four of his limbs while a white as bright as the evening’s snowfall flashes behind hazy red eyes. his blonde head of hair drops weightily to your damp shoulder; hips stumbling against your cunt, as thick ropes of his early release hit your clit underwater.

with a prideful your lips pull off of his horn, listening happily to his washy, uneven mewls. even though he hadn’t been ready to cum just yet, it was by no means a small orgasm. katsuki’s load is heavy, still coming in hot, viscous waves as you suddenly slip down on his throbbing shaft — using the mix of water and orgasm as lube to help you with his size. “t-takin’ me all at once… still cummin’,” bakugou gasps like a fish out of water, pupils blown wide as the black in his eye eclipses the red. “you gotta be careful… ‘m big, sweetness. don’t wanna hurt you.” 

katsuki bakugou, the beast, is perfect. you know that now, whether it’s because your brain is fucked up with sex crazed hormones or because you genuinely do care for him deep down. either way, you think that he’s perfect, and you want him every way. his cock stretching your tight heat has you delirious, you think the burn of his size might even kill you as it pulses in your lower belly.  

“w-what makes you think you might hurt me?” you drawl and your sopping walls accept every inch of him with ease, reminding him of how lucky he is to have you. to be able to fuck you. it’s almost as if you’re made specifically for the beast — wandering into his castle with intention. not just for your father. 

there’ll never be another beauty like you and he’ll never be able to let you go after this. 

you ooze viscous nectar against katsuki, blossoming for him like a flower made for the coldest of winters while he presses into you — deeper and deeper. until you’re pelvis to pelvis in the warm tub. “‘cause...you’re so small compared to me, sweetness,” he explains over the lump in his throat — a growl escaping from behind his larger, menacing set of teeth. “such a fuckin’ dainty…pretty… little thing. fuck… if we do this i ain’t sure i’ll be able to hold back.”

lowering your hips and clenching hard, you lock the blonde into your heat selfishly, even though your legs are about to give out and you feel faint from taking the entirety of him in one go. “but that shouldn’t stop you from having your way with me, beast.” you murmur. “i don’t want you to hold back. you’re perfect and i want you just the way you are,” taking his paw in your palm, you draw it back to the claw marks struck lovingly against your chest — letting him feel the strong beat of your heart between your breasts. “my heart is racing, bakugou,” you croon and nuzzle your nose against his cutely, earning a light purr from the man beneath you. “i think… i think you make me feel this way.” your heart has never fluttered for someone like this before, not for yo shindou or any other man back home. you feel so small and safe with katsuki, even if he seems scary on the outside — you know that he’s tender and always means well.

that’s all the permission katsuki needs, really. hearing you tell him that you want him, even if it’s in his most carnal and instinctive way, is the same as hearing the magic word to him. with revitalised motivation, the blonde beast plants his feet against the smooth base of the tub and thrusts all the way into you with one fluid motion — hips flush against your fleshy ass and bottoming out in your weeping pussy. each movement is easily guided by his previous release, forming a foamy white ring at your entrance. he wraps a hand around the back of your head, claws massaging your scalp to soothe the cloying cries caused by the new angle as he keeps you pinned to his body.

bakugou relishes in the warmth of your syrupy walls clenching tightly around his bricked up length but manages to find strength in pulling from your selfish slicked up hole to set a slow, calculated pace to the way he bucks into you — dragging his monstrous girth along your ribbed walls and pleasure points. the utter power behind his hips quickly have water splattering over the edge of the bathtub and tear through babyish yelps escaping from between your cherry-bitten lips. the beast takes control of your body like a king or a prince with a strict rein over land. ruling over every thought once rattling around in your mind.

your shaking hands take hold of sun-kissed tooth’s of his fur, ones that muffle your little laments and whines as katsuki fucks you down on his shaft — taking you to the high heavens and back. cloud nine just within your reach. oxygen eludes you, leaving your lungs vacant and struggling to keep up with everything the beast gives you — carving a pathway for his big seedy cock against your insides with every feverish buck of his hips into yours. “feels…feels s’good!” you shriek desperately, trying your best match his rhythm. “so deep, makin’ me feel so full!”

“already? haven’t even given you a proper load yet,” bakugou chuckles between condescending moans, drunk on the way it feels when he stretches you out around him the deeper he goes, poor pussy changing to accommodate his breath-taking size and whatever love he has to give you. as a result, the beast fills you until you’re practically a glass overflowing with love and pleasure. “could plug you full with dick ‘n cum, ‘n it still wouldn’t be enough for you. would it?” 

using a free hand, the blonde drags his claws grip down to your fleshy ass and spreads your cheeks apart, growling as the webs of slick tying them together break over his fingers — dampening them just as much as the water from the bath. his grip allows him to bully himself further into your molten core, moulding you perfectly up and down on his cock. “love how you feel around me, sweetness,” the praise smooths over your brain, wiping it of any feedback you have for the blonde and all you can do is gargle passionately in ecstasy. “don’t think i deserve to… fuck a pretty girl this tight…”

you squeeze around katsuki where your words fail you, juices dripping down his length into the bath nastily until it bathes his breeders balls as they clap against the curve of your ass repeatedly — heavy and full of a second load of cum just for you. even though he pushes and smears the first against pleasure spots dotted along your velvety walls. shaking your head, face hidden in water-logged fur, “y-you’re the only one who deserves to fuck me, katsuki, have this tight pussy— oh!” the tail end of your words come out as choked, lost to the echoey bathroom and splashing water as bakugou sinks his fangs into your bare shoulder.

he bites you, not only to mark you and taste the sheen of saltine sweat on your skin, but to pacify himself — help him cope with each flutter of your wet pussy and angelic simper. a delectable pain blossoms underneath the surface of your skin, and you weave your nimble fingers into bakugou’s fur to keep him in place, letting him bite you hard enough to draw blood. wounding you just as much as he had been wounded. 

ruining the bath with more than just sweat, juices and cum.

bakugou fucks you like he loves you, like he’s been waiting thousands of years to pour locked-away affections from his soul into yours. limbs slip and slide against the walls of the tub, filling the homing air and layering over the vulnerability lying in it. you’re sure you’d see this hidden truth in his vermillion eyes if you had the strength to look up from his chest too.

“keep talkin’ to me like that, swear i’ll ruin you ‘n this pussy for everyone. myself… the next man that has you,” bakugou growls as feral as the animal he’s been turned into. even with his body pressed hotly against yours, joined at your sticky sexes while you’re chest to chest ( sensitive nipples brushing each other’s), he still can’t see how much of you he owns. neediness and yearning spark between your compressed bodies as they dance together underwater, skin slapping on skin and water spilling everywhere. “she’ll never be able t’forget the way i make her fuckin’ feel…”

“oh god, please. please—“ you feel like you’re in the verge of tears, overwhelmed by everything that is the beast. that makes up katsuki bakugou. his size and thickness drive you insane, how he feels thrusting into your gummy walls and meeting the hilt sends you up a wall. not to mention the scent of his body, his fur, permeating your skin possessively and sinking into your pores. “don’t want anyone else after you, wanna have you inside of me forever. only you inside. just so pretty when you’re fucking me, katsuki…” you admit through earnest and shaky hiccups. 

despite rambling, your words feeling tacky on your tongue like someone’s stuffed your mouth with cotton, katsuki seems to finally get the hint. he makes you feel this way, he makes you see stars, he’s the one that you want — fully and undeniably. without a care in the world for how he looks. if that were the case, you wouldn’t be letting him rapidly rock his hips into you with lewd squelching sounds emanating from your ravaged pussy. you wouldn’t bounce up and down on his aching dick to chase him with a spasming, slippery hole when he just about pulled out of you, losing control of the movements of his hips — spreading the arousal beading on his cockhead against your insides.

“f-fuck… you’re gonna be the death of me…”  

the edge of the beast’s words develop a sharp shakiness to them, a sheen of sweat painted over your bodies from both the humidity in the bathroom and the exertion of your activities. you were living for the burn his fat girth created as it pushed its way past your puckered hole every time he jutted upwards or you weakly fucked down — bakugou knew you wanted more and he’d give it to you too. 

“y-you’re prettier. especially when i’m the one fuckin’ you,” bakugou whimpers seraphically, using his strong hand on your wet ass to lift and drop you in his milky white dick — not caring about the water that got everywhere, only focusing on matching you to his length jackhammering in and out of your pathetically creamy pussy. you spasm, keeping him a prisoner in your cunt while he spews copious amounts of precum inside of you and into the tub — coaxing a fresh wave of blistering hot essence out of you. 

all of a sudden, the beast uses his brute strength to  shift your positions with his cock still nestled within you and your back splashes against the remaining water in the tub — dampening your back and the crown of your hair. katsuki doesn’t let you sink too far back into the water, instead, holding you up by the far at waist, large paw curling around it entirely. “see that? my cock bulging in your tummy. s’all me, sweetness. will only ever be me. you’re mine, all fuckin’ mine for all of time.” he whispers above you lecherously, hazy vermillion gaze floating like driftwood down to your soft stomach. your eyes follow his, breath caught in your throat at the sight,  the shape of him outlined there as he pounds into your g-spot lovingly, dotting your eyes with constellations. “hold onto me, sweetness. gonna make us cum.” 

quickly, you wrap your ankles around the smallest part of the beast’s waist — cunt unlocking and locking around the curve of his dick at random with the new position. choking the precum out of him, opaque fat drops pearling at the slit every time katsuki’s hips lunge forward powerfully. “i love you,” tears begin to brew in your glassy eyes and gather in your lashes like dew drops on a leaf, streaming down the hot apples of your cheeks as you become overwhelmed with emotion. you’re not sure if you cry because of dopamine, lust and happy hormones jolting from your brain to the tips of your toes or because of the way katsuki slots his body against yours — drowns you in everything that is him. 

either way it doesn’t matter, because you don’t know what you’d do if the beast stopped loving you like this. making love to you with every push of his cockhead against sluice walls, every swipe of his tongue over your swollen lips and every scratch of his claws against your supple body. 

“i love you,” you repeat, the taste of your orgasm rushing over the horizon as you claw desperately for something, anything to ground you. you wriggle and write underneath him, sending more water out of the tub, stomach twisted in delightful knots and only manage to steady yourself by grasping bakugou’s thick black horns above you. “i want to be yours forever…b-because you’re perfect ‘n feel so good. ‘n no one will care for me like you do…”

“‘hmyfuckingods…shit!” bakugou swoops down to lick curse words into your impassioned, temperate mouth, weakened by your warm touch around his sensitive horns and your own words mewled out like a promise to the cursed monster of a prince. watching the beast, your beast, break above you hardly soothes your wrecked insides — honeyed juices drooling down your thighs, dripping into the tub in a viscous lava flow each time he pumps into you. parting between kisses and through your wet lashes, you witness the way sweat drips from his hairline and fur, the way his dark brows are furrowed in concentration ( focused on bringing you to the top of your peak ) and how his arms flex in order to drag your pulsating pussy up to meet his thick cock — skin smacking and breath mingling in the musky air. 

his golden fur glistens under warm candle light and if you looked close enough, you could spot the twinge of pink at katsuki’s cheeks from his exertion. he’s beautiful on top of you, fucking you, that you’d be happy drown here in this bathtub if it meant he was the last thing you ever got to see. “tell me how much you want me,” bakugou snarls against your swollen lips, spouting the covetously loaded words against your strawberry tongue before he slopping kisses you again — teeth clashing with yours, incisors nipping your bottom lip until it’s bloody while he maps out the taste of sex in your mouth. 

as if to coach an answer out of you,  his knuckle slips between your connected bodies to toy with your throbbing clit — being mindful of his claws, not wanting to cause you any pain when you’re so close to reaching your high. it’s hard for you to speak when his cock slips into you like magic and attacks your throat with a bounty of love bites in purply-blues. his intensity washes over you in waves, scorching you and soothing you all at once. over all the harsh moments once shared between you.

instinctively you squeeze at his horns and search for words, but bakugou answers for you — hardly peeling away from your, damp hot skin while he pulses to life inside of you. “cause i want you. want you so fuckin’ bad that it burns me. hurts me.” snarls and pushes his creamy cock as deep and as far as it can go, practically splitting you open, spreading your thighs wide ( as wide as the tub will allow ) to make room for his wide frame and hips between them. you can just tell how much he wants you, how it tears him apart pieces you back together, by the way he grinds against you — fluffy pelvis brushing against your puffy clit. with the hope to push you over the edge. “gods… you make me wanna lose it…” 

the beast picks up a pace and a thick strand of your mixed arousals swings between your bodies where the blonde beast plugs your spasming hole, the milky liquid finding purchase on your inner thighs and the veins that spiral down his shaft. the both of you start to lose it together, water slipping and sliding everywhere as bakugou moves to sit on his haunches, all-encompassing grip on your waist lifting you from the shallow depth of the tub to keep you on his cock — pussy squelching over his swollen and red shaft. 

in response, your back bows away from the bottom of the tub until you’re chest to chest once more and your lips part with “i want you, i want you, i want you! n-no one else!” you chant loudly, the words nearly lost over the sounds of the beast passionately slamming into you over and o er again. “k-katsuki! think i’m gonna… so close—! cumming—!” 

using two knuckles, bakugou pinches your clit between them and sends you hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. that’s all it takes, him purring to you as white flashes behind your glassy eyes. you squirt hard against him, into the tub, clear liquid spurting from your ravaged sex and covering the beast’s fur in a messy layer of your release. there’s so much of it, that it nearly forces his cock from your quivering hole — but he can’t bare to be away from you, to waste his own orgasm. for the damn in the beast’s lower belly breaks as well; an earth shattering high comes crashing down on him and forces his bulking furry frame to collapse over yours — hips stuttering and water rushing out of the bath.

katsuki tucks his burning face into your neck one final time. his nostrils flare and chest heaves as he cums with an frightening roar, arms encircling your head to keep you still and pinned beneath him while katsuki unapologetically ruts into your ruined heat; dragging his bulbous cockhead deliciously against your silken walls as his seed pours into you in a large, unapologetic amount. potent and thick white floods your womb, cloying against the ribbed parts of your pussy.  so much so, that you feel your tummy bulge even as some of it runs down your slit and between your ass cheeks — into the tub below.

neither of you move, completely weak and shaky in one another’s embrace — limbs heavy from water that clings to bakugou’s fur and your skin. if you could speak and your ears were no longer ringing from your world ending high, you’d tell the beast that you love him. that you care about him. that you never want to leave him.

if his state was any better than yours, you’re sure he’d do the same.

but for now, you grasp onto his wet back and rake your hands through the masses of wet golden fur to tug bakugou, the cursed beast, closer to you. never letting him go. pulling him in to press a lasting kiss into his damp, muzzle. hoping your subtle affections will make do instead.

the end.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[brownblob]

"I Love You"

When the words "I love you" spill from the prefect's lips, how do the Housewardens react?

Part 1

TW: Kissing in Malleus' part, forehead kisses, mentions of insecurities (Fluff)

Part 2 (Separate): Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

ᥫ᭡. Kalim Al-Asim ᥫ᭡.

Like the scorching sun in the Scalding Sands, Kalim's feelings for you burned deep within his heart. Why is it that he wants to spend time with you, but the moment he does, his heart seems to stop? Why is it that the word 'friend' bugs him when associated with you? Why is it that he wants to be selfish, to hog you for himself? His mind become's mush whenever you're near and his throat feels dry, he just feels so shy.

Kalim is everything but shy.

Expensive gifts, prized heirlooms, rare gemstones, and any luxury you could name- he'll give it all to you, so why do you reject? Anyone else would accept his gifts with open arms, encouraging him to give more. Wait, you aren't anyone, you're you. You don't take, you give. Despite the little you have in this new world, you who harbors no magic, gives him joy. You spend time with him, you care for him, and you don't take from him- he really wishes you would.

Take his riches and look back at him just one more time, he swears he'll hand you all the gold he can acquire. So please, please just look at him more.

You're caring, so much so that he could just melt in your arms. How lucky he feels when you look at him, but why? Jamil looks at him too, he doesn't feel as if mice are tickling him then. No, when you're around, all he can see is you. You who shines brighter than any gemstone his wealth could buy. You are not a prize to be won, he knows, but he wishes that the glitters of gold could woo you, make him your number one.

He feels so lost and it hurts, nights spent sobbing away.

Kalim, the name alone makes you smile. Someone who's kind despite all that he's faced, all the horrible people he's met- he still believes in the good of people. Some call it naivety, you call it 'a heart of gold'. Yes, he's sheltered, there's some things he's slow at, and he has flaws. Despite said flaws, he want to become better and you see him try every single day. You've seen how he makes everyone comfortable, always including anyone and everyone, how he's akin to a drop of sunshine. It's a rarity and you appreciate it greatly. Twisted Wonderland, it's new to you and things are difficult but when Kalim's there, things don't feel that difficult.

He doesn't look down upon you, he doesn't think you're weak despite having no magic, and he certainly never belittles you- others have and that hurt.

He's always up for some fun, but it always feels better when he can share the fun with you. Thus, flying carpet rides have become your nightly routine. There's a soft knock on your window every other night, a hand extended your way; calling you to live, be happy. You can't help but blush when the carpet takes off, his body huddles closer to yours and the moon seems tease you with how bright she is.

It's another night and he's come to pick you up to go see the Scarabia moon. You're sitting next to each other, the desert seemingly glowing underneath. The stars twinkle and you swear the breeze is cool on purpose, just so the both of you have no choice but to lean into each other. Hands intertwine, both of you looking the other way, cheeks red like cherries.

"I..I love you."

You fumble out on mistake, your breath hitching the moment you realize. His head whips towards you, garnet eyes appraising your blushing visage. A soft smile appears on his lips, his sun-kissed skin peachy with a blush of his own.

"I love you too."

He says eagerly, hands wrapping around you as he pulls you in. The moon looks bigger, the stars winking at you, and the scent of sandalwood engulfs you. A soft kiss is planted on your forehead, one that lingers. Like a pair of sea otters, you both hold the other's hand.

ᥫ᭡. Vil Schoenheit ᥫ᭡.

Center of attention, even the room's filled to the brim with pretty faces. Eye's the color of violets and a smile that's so striking, it could cut right through you. Just how a bright star commands everyone's admiration, Vil himself does exactly that. With beauty that's akin to a velvety rose, thorns sharp and drawing blood of the one who dares touch. He's not sure why he's so fond of you, really, it baffles him. Your constant babbling should bother him- your posture isn't perfect, you don't regularly use the products he recommends to you, and your diet could use improving.

He only recently realized the perfection of imperfection. That's what you are, like an abstract piece of art that can draw even the most elegant man's heart. Truly, you can take his breath and keep it, which is a difficult feat to accomplish. Yet, you seem to have done just that.

He doesn't like how drawn he is to you, the you who could improve so much. Nevertheless, he can't deny how his heart flutters when you ramble on and on, the words you spew seem like pearls to him. Undeniably, you've got his heart, and it bothers him.

Vil seems unreachable to you, as if he's a god and you're a follower. You can see him, but you can't touch. Everything about him is captivating- the way he moves, how he walks, how he talks, everything. You feel like a toad in front of him sometimes. Still, the reason your heart continues to flutter is not his beauty but how soft he can be. His words may be harsh, telling you to fix your posture or add a certain product to your skincare, but he means well. It used to irk you, how he pointed out your flaws, but he never touched an insecurity- it was never something you couldn't fix. Many times, he only tells you how to improve and that's in his nature. It started with you muttering curses under your breath, now all you do is give him a dopey smile as he flicks your forehead.

It's hard to love Vil, and you're sure that it's even harder to be loved by him. He's untouchable and you're not sure if he'll even spare you a glance. But, the nights you spend at his dorm, him tending to your skin as you blabber about your day. Or the few rarities when he opens up, speaking of his insecurities. It shows how human he is; how he too, can feel.

It's another night at his dorm, your skin's worsened as of late and Vil's ordered you to give him a visit. You sit at his vanity, the light's so bright that it could blind you, but what truly blinds you is Vil himself in all his glory. His dampened hair, the ends the color of wisteria, and the scent of patchouli just makes you want to melt right then and there. He strides over with a new product in his hand, carefully beginning to massage your face with it.

"I love you."

The words come out instantly, his hands stopping in motion as his violet eyes widen. A sheepish blush coats your face as you realize what you said. Your breath hitches, the fear of rejection drilling into your mind, and your heart drumming against your chest.

"That's quite bold of you, sweet potato.."

He lets out a small chuckle, eyes holding content. He leans closer before flicking you on the forehead gently.

"I love you too."

ᥫ᭡. Idia Shroud ᥫ᭡.

The buzz of video games, the stench on junk food, and an interest for oddities. Idia Shroud was a wallflower, yet you'd managed to befriend him, something he's truly grateful for- your presence. He liked you. You understood him, you never belittled him for what he enjoyed, in fact, you encouraged him to continue. No matter how good or bad you were at a game, you'd play alongside him. It didn't matter whether you enjoyed his rambles, you'd listen no matter what, before babbling on and on about something of your own interest. Nights like this, filled with games, reading manga, watching anime, and spending time with you- he never wanted these to end.

You were brave, so unlike him. You had no magic, still you managed to show courage, to fight against overblots. How he wished he was you, no, how he wished he was yours. The realization hit him like a truck in an isekai, quickly and out of nowhere. When he figured he liked you, he didn't let you anywhere near him for a week- opting to hide in his room and not leave. It took some convincing from Ortho and also the fact that you may dislike him if he ignored you, before he opened his doors for you once again. Nevertheless, he was skittish, averting his gaze from your face, and sitting on the other end of the couch when you visited. That worried you, you were sure you'd messed up big time and he became uneasy around you because of it. Thankfully everything became normal after two weeks, he was sure he wouldn't be able to recover.

The truth was, you liked him too. It was weird and something unforeseen, you both started out as friends- you'd visit his dorm, play games all night, munch on junk together, and then laugh at all the cringe characters in the current anime you both were binging on. Right now, you were experiencing that cheesy crush from a shoujo manga, and the feeling was messing with your brain.

The gloomy boy you pined for was everything but dreamy, somehow, that's what made him so charming to you. Hair an electric blue that flared up like flames, pale skin akin to porcelain, and eyes yellow like daffodils. His physicality was mesmerizing but there was so much more to his character too. He was passionate about what he enjoyed, jabbering on for hours about his interest, something that you didn't mind one bit. He was competitive, striking a triumphant grin whenever he'd win a game against you. He's prideful too, his creations making him an utter genius. At the same time, he held such emotion, a man who would never judge for he himself experienced the badmouthing of others.

There's just something about Idia, something that makes your cheeks flare up. You're not sure if he notices how his presence can make you skittish, how you become timid when he's near, and how divine he seems to you. He never notice how he makes you feel, how ironic that you become just like him when he's near.

Just like the usual, you're cooped up in his dorm alongside him. You've been binging an anime for the past few hours and the way he's so focused on the characters while you're so focused on him, it bothers you. He feels so close yet so far and the fact that you're having such thoughts about the whole situation, makes you feel stupid.

"I love you.."

You immediately pause at your own words, Idia pauses the show too. There's a long silence in the room and before you know it, Idia's moved far away from you. His hair's become an electric pink and his eyes are wide.

"W-w-w-what..!?"

He exclaims the words as if he's animated, the feeling of fluster surging throughout him. Were you playing a joke on him? This wasn't right, it couldn't be. His gaze averts the other way every time you look at him and he won't admit it, but he really hopes you're not joking.

"I love you, Idia."

You say again, softer this time and you yourself look the other way, peachy blush coating your face. You're cursing yourself for speaking up, palms sweaty and clammy. You feel dizzy and your breathing is erratic , the feeling's mutual. The room's silent again, no one says anything and the only sound either of you can hear is the buzz of the computer.

"I...I...I dove, no, love you too.."

He mutters out, fumbling his words while he does. You both look at each other, shy gaze. Your lips form a small smile, making Idia's hair flare an even brighter pink. His face is rosy and he'd rather not look at you but you're just so pretty that he can't help but look.

You're not sure how it things fell in place but he accepted your confession, and now you've somehow managed to cuddle up to him. He's stiff but that's fine, the mere fact that he's holding your hand tightly is enough to reassure you. That, and how smug he looks.

ᥫ᭡. Malleus Draconia ᥫ᭡.

Child of man, you truly are peculiar. Malleus Draconia, the name alone makes millions, if not billions, tremble to the bone. He holds such unrivaled power that the thought alone is fearsome- he is fearsome.

A monster, that's what many would call him, but you don't. No one dares approach him as carelessly as you do, a bumbling smile on your lips as you walk next to him without a care in the world. Do you truly not know what he's capable of? 'Tsunotaro', that's what you've named him- quite bold of you, not that he minds. Please continue to enlighten him about human practices, he's interested in every thing you have to say.

Loneliness is a disease that he's suffered from since his childhood. It's second nature to be alone with his own presence, silence a bandage that covers but doesn't heal his wounds. Yet, the way you come to him, invite him to all your little events, how you choose him. How can he be lonely when he has you?

You, who is so bright like a star coated in gold- is he even allowed to go near you? It feels as if you'll break in his hands, yet you seem so brave, putting yourself in danger with a smile. You've got his heart in your hands and it hurts that you don't realize.

'Friend' was a word he grew to love, knowing the special bond you shared. Nevertheless, it's the same word that has caused Diasomnia to have horrible whether for the past week- you're a friend to many but a lover to none. Be his, child of man, he's the only one worthy enough to call you his.

Since the day of his realization, Malleus follows you as a second shadow would. Now, no one with ill intentions would dare approach what he's already considered his. Truly, how precious you are. Giving him small shiny pebbles you find, trying to tuck daisies into his hair but being unable to reach his head, and the times you try to tease him as a joke, making the silliest of faces. Please tell him that he's the only one who has the honor of seeing you in such various forms. Dragons are hoarders, you know? And he wants nothing but to hoard you all for himself.

Spending time with your Tsunotaro is always fulfilling. His knowledge on gargoyles, the depth in which he speaks of them and how little he knows of human interactions. It all makes your heart flutter, eliciting a smile on your lips. It's not difficult to have feelings for someone such as him, it comes naturally. He seems so intimidating, dangerous even and it's not that he's not- he is, but there's so much more to him. He's curious, always listening to what you have to say. He's sweet, always handing you gifts whether small or unimaginably grand. And the manner in which he speaks, the elegance he holds, he's just as charming as any prince in a book- if not more.

When you began actually having feelings for him, all his words seemed to make your mind all fuzzy. Could he really not tell how his vocabulary affected you? 'My dear', 'my love', and all other forms of endearments had become a usual, so much so, that it felt right.

You went on walks with him, spotting gargoyles and chatting about them. Sometimes you drag him to picnics with and he happily follows, letting you braid his ebony hair. Still, not everything you shared seemed friend-like, and if it was, you didn't want it to be. The way his emerald eyes gazed over you, how his touch lingered so gently, and how his lips brushed agains your ear when he said he'll keep you safe. It couldn't mean nothing, you didn't want it to.

A walk in a meadow at nighttime, how strange, but also the daily for you. You walk alongside Malleus, skittish and timid- this isn't how you usually act. The moon's peeking out from under the clouds and casting a silver sheen on all that it lands on. Fireflies scurry around slowly, the cool night air making you feel at ease- but it's not enough.

Your face is flushed and you won't meet his gaze, he's not sure what he did wrong. His frame towers behind you as you seem to walk quicker, increasing your pace. Hurt, that's what he feels; did you start seeing him as a monster too?

You can't leave, please- he'll beg if he has to, give you all of what he has and can create. Promise you'll stay, and don't ever leave.

Then you pause, turning around as you take deliberate steps towards him. You look up, your smaller frame covered by his daunting shadow.

"I love you, Tsunotaro."

You say with a certain melancholy in your voice, as if you know he'll reject you and your love. How could he ever think of rejecting? He'd rather pierce his own heart and bleed to death than ever think of rejecting any of your words.

His viridescent eyes widen, the glow of them seeming intense. His hands holds you in place gently, he seems to be staring at you, looking you as if you're the most fragile piece of glass. The words don't spill out of his lips and you look more desolate by the second- he seemingly can't speak, he's not sure if this is but a dream.

"I love you too, child of man. So much that you wouldn't believe it."

His hands wrap you in a desperate embrace, almost as desperate as the words he'd just managed to choke out. It was as if you would wither away if he let go, as if he was making sure you were not a dream.

Your own eyes widen, lips parting shock at his words. The night seems magical and his embrace is sincere. He pries away from you only to look at you more, all your expressions- please continue to show such faces to only him. Only he should see you like this, with your face flushed red and eyes widened as you stare at him as though he's the only man in the world. His hands seem shaky, unlike who he usually is.

No, he seems so vulnerable and you seem to be his vulnerability.

Everything seems alright when you're there, he doesn't feel loneliness; far from it, actually. He doesn't feel like a monster when you love him, when your own arms loosely wrap around his neck as you pull him in for a soft kiss- no, monster's don't get such luxuries.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Note 2: Please reblog, even if you don't press like on the post. Reblogs help a ton more!

Note 3: I didn't expect the last part to get so much attention, thank you so much everyone. I greatly appreciate everyone's interactions with my posts! As of now, I'll be working on requests and maybe some other ideas! (I really hope this part 2 is good too)

[gremlingottoosilly]

Falling asleep on Konig's shoulder

(Very self-indulgent because I'm literally on a night train from Vienna rn) Getting the last ticket to the table section of the train - you thought you could have a quick snack, maybe drink some water or get a coffee from a friendly train worker. Get your laptop out and use the free space next to you to work a little bit. You weren't as lucky, of course - with the train being late and with a huge guy sitting on the seat next to you. Probably reserved in time, unlike you. Probably didn't struggle with staying awake as much as you did. You honestly wanted to work. Be productive, get on that grind and growth mindset, and provide value to the company even on the late-night train. The moment you showed your tickets, however, everything went out the window. You're not sure you even managed to put your laptop back in your bag when you went out, your head dropping forward as you indulged in a feverish, groggy nap. Konig saw how tired you were - he felt awkward even sitting next to you, thinking about giving up his place and offering it to you, so you could rest your legs and don't look like a shrimp in your seat. He didn't even care that he did pay for his reservation - he almost thought about, maybe, scaring away some dumb fucks from the other seat, making sure you get a place to rest. But, oh, Konig is a selfish man. Anxious in his desire to get you all to himself, even if he doesn't know your name. It all can come later- when he'd get you a coffee from the train restaurant or drive you home if he'd get lucky enough to get off at the same station as you. Your head drops on his shoulder - he never felt something as soft as you, pressing to his skin. Your full body weight is setting down on his shoulder, and Konig already feels like he won't be able to survive without having you next to him, hugging him, smiling at him. Nuzzling your face in his chest and letting him give you the world simply because you fucking deserve this. Deserve him, so close to you - fucking god, he can't wait to have you all to himself and... Ah, fuck. There is a pretty girl sleeping on his shoulder during a train ride, and Konig just got a raging boner. He fucking hates himself sometimes - getting too excited, never having enough. Wanting to take your body in his lap and force his cock in your inviting pussy. You'd look so cute, all sleepy and drowsy on his dick - maybe you'd even cry a little, making it all the cuter. Maybe, if he is lucky, you'd be just exhausted enough to follow him to his place. Did he make his bed when he went on the mission? Fuck, it was almost two weeks out of his place, it probably looks like shit. Smells like shit, certainly. He can't bring a girl in this place, he has to get a hotel, maybe a fancy one, with a pool, but then you would think he is doing hookups or is cheating on his wife or lives with his parents or- You snuggle closer to his shoulder, searching for warmth, and he almost feels like cumming in his pants. Shit, he can't help himself, can he? Can't even muster the courage to ask you for your number. Maybe when you wake up, so he could just...ah, but he kind of likes being your pillow. Can imagine himself in the same position ten years from now. Let's just say, when you do wake up - with your phone and your laptop safely tucked away in your bag - you won't exactly be going home. Konig does want to know you a bit more, after all.

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "attention" ⎯୧ (kdh)

+*:🌟:*﹤descrip. : leehan just wants ur eyes on him!! :(

+*:🩷:*﹤content : sub!leehan, dom!reader, edging, riding (who's surprised), surely this is exhibitionism and voyeurism???

+*:🧃:*﹤warnings : 18+ mdni! :T (i'm watching you 🫵), female anat 4 reader, piv sex, both characters are quite flawed imo but everything is consensual 🫶, leehan confesses to reader like ten times but it's mostly in his head, leehan’s kinda weird in the mall sorry idk how men flirt idk how anyone flirts, leehan has a scent kink in my book idk how that happened but it did

+*:❤️:*﹤word count : 4.7k phew it's a long one buckle up

+*:🍏:*﹤a/n : i tried my best to write the first paragraph as plot but it was so hard so I wrote it in drabble format but the rest is in story format!! sawry bout that </3 selfedging!leehan anon if you read this i hope u like it <33

+*:🌟:*﹤masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *

BF!Leehan who wants your eyes on him, but you've been so focused on work, leaving early and coming home late. He knows it's important, that you have to finish your project by the deadline, but he can't help but feel a little selfish about your time when you've rarely spoken to him in the past two weeks. He's barely even seen you, always falling asleep despite trying to stay up when you come home, and he's getting antsy missing your company.

You're sliding out of bed after only being home for five hours. He’d startled awake when you came in, but you were too tired to talk, too tired to change before collapsing on the bed.

He’d changed you himself, gently wiping your makeup off and massaging lotion into your skin, then held you close to him as you caught up on much-needed rest. He wakes up when he feels your body heat leave his side, and groans as he watches with foggy eyes as you disappear into the bathroom. 

“Don’t go to work. Stay here with me,” he begs sweetly when you come back out. You consider it, he can see it on your face, but you ultimately shake your head.

“I can’t, baby. Gotta get this project done, then I’ll be all yours, m’kay?”  He pouts, but it doesn’t last long because you kiss it away and ruffle his already messed up hair. Within minutes, you’re out the door.

Leehan sulks in bed for a little longer, wishing he could make you pay attention to him. It feels like the only time you’re actually looking at him, thinking about him, is when the two of you are intimate with each other. It’s hard to find time in two busy schedules, but during those rare moments, it’s just you and him; the world around the two of you doesn’t exist anymore.

He’s so warm and safe in bed and the only thing that would make it better is if you were here with him, tangled up in the sheets and wasting the day away. He thinks about your soft skin and how sweet it smells, how warm your touch is when he’s lucky enough to be blessed with it, blessed by your gentle eyes and kind words when they’re focused only on him and spoken just for him to hear.

His hand is traveling under his waistband without hesitation, and thoughts of you clutter his mind as he wraps his palm around his length. He tries to mimic the way you squeeze his base and flick your thumb over his slit, tries to imagine it’s your pretty hands touching him this way. It's not long before stars are dancing behind his eyelids and he’s grunting out into the silent room. 

You never want him to cum the first time around, and almost always pull away when he’s on the edge. He’s so used to the denial, to the feeling of his orgasm slipping out of his grasp that it just feels natural when he pulls his hand away from his cock. He sucks in a breath at the way it twitches and sees you, hears you in his imagination, saying, “Good boy, aren’t you so well-trained?”

He chews on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the burning hot need coursing through his veins, and an idea forms in his head. He knows he shouldn’t, but it should be fine, right? Just a voice message showing you how much he misses you. You wouldn’t get upset with him for that, surely.

He reaches for his phone on the nightstand and opens you guys’ text messages. He spends another four seconds convincing himself this is a good idea. Then he’s grabbing his cock again, pulling all the tricks to put him on the verge of tipping over. When he feels close, he presses the “Record a Message” button beside the text bar.

At first, it’s just shy little moans as he complains about how much he misses you, how much better it would feel if you were here. Then, they turn into desperate, raspy gasps as he pushes himself over the edge. The audio recording sends the second he releases the button, and he can’t unsend it, so he accepts his choices and waits to hear what you have to say.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The answer is absolutely nothing. You don’t respond to or address the audio recording at all, aside from a smirk and a “Did you have fun today?” that you throw his way when you walk through the front door. 

He continues doing it, messages ranging from more audio recordings to photos of his stomach painted white, and usually you’ll kiss him, ruffle up his hand, call his “little treats” cute, make more promises to help him out when you’ve met your deadline.

He knows your work is important, but although guilt claws at him for it, Leehan still feels a bit hurt that you didn’t take his complaints to heart, just assumed it was another one of his trivial games. 

Leehan can play games, and when you hole yourself up in the bedroom to type away at your laptop, he realizes that he will. He’ll do whatever it takes to get your attention.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You finally have a day off, and have decided you’d like to spend part of it at the mall looking through new arrivals. Leehan’s not big on shopping, so he just follows you around and occasionally gets distracted by fish merch. 

You’ve stepped away at least four times to take phone calls from your coworkers, and you guys have only been at the mall for an hour and a half. When lunchtime rolls around, you excuse yourself again to answer a call from your boss, leaving Leehan alone to pick at his food in disinterest. 

“Um, hi. Are you busy?” A feminine voice says. The girl has to stand directly in Leehan’s line of sight for him to realize she’s talking to him. When he looks up at her, she smiles shyly and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Can I help you?” 

“No! Well, yes. I…was just wondering if I could have your phone number. I saw you standing alone earlier…” The girl’s voice fades out as Leehan peeps your approaching figure in the distance, and the gears in his head turn with another (probably bad) idea.

“...alone again here in the food court, so I thought I should take the chance.”

Leehan didn’t hear most of what she said, but he can tell when someone’s interested in him, and he can play along.

He flashes the girl a charming smile, dimples and all, and nods along to whatever she’s rambling about. She’s cute enough, and seems like a nice girl, but Leehan’s real focus is entirely on you as you watch the scene. He watches you as best as he can from his peripheral, but never takes his eyes off the girl in front of him. 

“Is that…alright?” She says, looking at Leehan with wide, hopeful eyes. He pretends to consider whatever she asked, and holds a palm out for her to rest her hand in. Her face gets even redder, and he kind of feels bad that he’s using her to get to you.

He’s about to tell her that he’s sorry to disappoint, and that he appreciates it, he really does, but he has a girlfriend. He doesn’t get a chance to say any of that when you come up behind him seemingly out of nowhere and tap him on the shoulder. The girl pulls her hand away from Leehan’s and stands around awkwardly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask. Your arms are crossed and your eyes are locked on his, but not with the love and admiration he’s been longing for. His composure falters when he sees your expression, one that says he’s fucked up more than he knows.

“This girl came up to me and…” He trails off and gestures in the girl’s general direction.

“And?” You ask impatiently, but Leehan doesn’t know how he was going to conclude that sentence. This girl came up to me and I pretended to be interested to get a rise out of you? He has a feeling that’s not going to support his case well. You turn away from him and to the girl behind him, causing him to turn around as well.

“You’ll have to excuse my idiot boyfriend. I’m sorry he wasted your time instead of just telling you he was taken.” The girl nods in understanding and tries to hide her disappointed pout. She accepts your handshake when you offer it and hurries off. 

You shoot Leehan another pissed glare, then dump your remaining food in the trash and walk out of the mall. He considers apologizing to the girl as well, but she’s already out of sight, so he trashes his own food and trails after you with a ball of shame sitting in his throat. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

To be honest, you scare Leehan just a little, especially when he knows you’re angry with him but you’re not talking about it. He’d rather you just chew his head off and get it over with, just tell him how much of an inconsiderate dumbass he is. You don’t, so the guilt manifests and manifests until he feels like he might puke it up.

You lock the front door and hang up your coat, and the first thing you say to him in the last twenty minutes is “Sit.”

Leehan parks his ass on the couch immediately, and waits to hear whatever other command you might give him. He expects you to sit next to him, or on the armchair by the couch or even on his lap. He doesn’t expect you to sit right across from him on the coffee table. At least a minute passes full of you just staring at him, and the silence is killing him. 

“Baby–”

“Shut up,” you say, and his mouth clamps shut. You stare at him for a few more seconds, poking your inner cheek with your tongue in thought. Then, you shake your head and laugh in disbelief. Leehan watches as you cross your arms over your chest, and tries not to flick his eyes down to the way your boobs are being pushed up. He may be sick with horniness and loneliness, but it’s really not the time.

“Why are you acting like this, Leehan?” It takes Leehan a few seconds and a quirk of your eyebrow to realize you’re actually waiting for an answer, that you want him to speak now.

“What do you mean?” That’s his intelligent response. You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Don’t act dense with me. You were flirting with that girl just so I’d see. I know when you’re acting out for attention, and that’s exactly what you’ve been doing this entire week.” Leehan’s embarrassed at being caught so he shakes his head in denial, but it’s nowhere near convincing even to himself.

“No? You didn’t touch yourself and record it for me? Didn’t send me photos of you covered in your own cum? Didn’t flirt with a girl right in my face in a desperate attempt to get my attention?” Leehan’s cheeks burn at the direct confrontation. Hearing his actions out loud brings a fresh wave of shame over him, and he’s so ready to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

“Show me.”

Leehan’s eyes fly wide open and he lets out a nervous chuckle. “W-what?”

“You wanted my attention so bad. Now you have it,” you say with a bored expression. Your eyes leave a trail of fire wherever they land on his skin. He has your attention, and has to think of a way to keep it. 

“Go ahead,” you command with a jerk of your head. Your lips are turned down into a frown, and it’s so condescending, like you don’t even want to be here. Leehan needs you to want to be here, and he’s nothing if not a performer. He lifts his hips and tugs his pants down to his thighs. 

You make a noise, something between a hum and a coo, when he pulls his boxers down and his dick springs against his stomach.

“Your little cock is hard, Hannie.” He knows he’s not small, but your words are still humiliating, and still burn the need to impress you across his skin. “Gonna show me how you fucked yourself when you were moaning into your phone?”

Leehan’s hips buck against nothing, causing his member to slap against his stomach again, and his mouth falls open with a groan.

He does as you tell him, wrapping his hand around his cock like he’s been doing every morning for the past week, squeezing his base, flicking his tip, imagining it’s you, wishing it was you, but he doesn’t dare ask. Instead he watches your facial expressions, how your lips curl up into a smirk when he’s close.

“Stop,” you tell him, and he pulls his hand away without question. He would’ve been foolish to not expect the sensation of his orgasm floating farther and farther away from him. He tries to slow his breathing, tries not to lose his mind so early into this session.

“Keep going.” 

He continues his previous pace immediately, and his hips tremble when he tries to stop them from bucking up. His tip is a bit more sensitive when he brushes his thumb across it, and it takes less time for him to get close. 

He strokes a bit faster, moans a bit louder. He has no idea how long you plan to keep him here, but he still anticipates the relief of falling off the edge.

“Let go.”

Leehan pulls his hand away from his cock and clutches the couch instead while willing his legs to stop shaking. He’s helpless to disobey you, but he groans as his orgasm escapes him a second time.

“Hm…I dunno. Something’s not right.” You tap a manicured nail against your chin in thought. He can never understand how you’re so composed in moments like this, like it’s a normal evening. If you’re turned on, you don’t show it, and it makes Leehan flush with shame. “What do you think, baby boy?” 

He huffs out a laugh at the question. How is he supposed to know? But you’re looking at him expectantly, so he scrambles to come up with something. “I mean– Usually I’m, like, in bed, I guess. Thinking about you, imagining you, smelling you…” God, don’t get him started on smelling you. 

You hum thoughtfully and lift off of the table. In seconds, you’re hovering over him, flashing him a devious grin. Your hips are so close to straddling his, and you slap his hand away when it reaches up to touch your waist. You hold yourself up by the back cushions with your arms on either side of his head. He’s trapped, and suddenly, everything else in the room is overshadowed by you.

 “Is that right? You think about all the dirty things you wanna do to me while getting off to the smell of my perfume?”

Of course you’d know his weak spot. You’re so close to him and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to touch you. Your perfume is invading his senses, and flaming hot desire coils in his abdomen. He squeezes his eyes shut to prevent them from rolling into his skull as his hips twitch into the air.

“Touch yourself, Hannie,” you say sweetly.

He takes a deep breath and grabs his cock again. He’s known to leak like a faucet, especially after meeting you, and his hand is covered in sticky white within the first few seconds of stroking himself.

He knows there’s raspy noises falling from his open mouth, but he can barely hear them over his heart pounding. The way you take over his brain is overwhelming and he can hardly think. Your lips graze his neck, and the skin litters with goosebumps despite the hot air between the two of you. 

If he opens his eyes, he’s got a face full of titties, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that despite every cell in his body telling him to look. He wants to be good for you and hold out until you give him permission to stop, but it feels so good that he’s speeding his hand up.

“Ha– Ah, fuck–” Slick, sloppy sounds fill the room as he works himself to the edge for you.

“Let go,” you whisper in his ear. His hand rips away from his cock and grips onto his thigh instead, getting it wet and gross with precum. It takes what feels like an eternity for him to back away from the precipice this time. Fear runs his blood cold when he realizes he almost didn’t last. 

He’s always good for you, can edge himself for as long as you'd like. He doesn’t know why he’s sensitive today, especially after spending a week beating it.

You pull your face out of his neck, and he slumps against the couch. You smile at the sight and caress his cheek. He melts into the touch, but you pull away to card through his tangled hair instead. You used the grip on his strands to tilt his head back so that he’s looking up at you. 

“I do think you were louder that time. Moaned just like you did in those recordings.” He opens his mouth to say something, but loses his train of thought when you plop down on his lap. 

“Fffuck–” he moans, voice all pathetic and high-pitched. 

“Stay still,” you warn when his hips buck into yours, and he tries so hard, but even the soft fabric of your skirt is too rough on his sensitive dick. He struggles to keep his eyes open, but he’d rather die than take them off of you, so he blinks through the tears pooling in his waterline. The action causes the tears to trickle down, and the air is cold against his wet cheeks.

You stay like that until his breaths are more even and he’s somewhat calmed down. He lets out a displeased noise when you lift off of him and sit back on the coffee table.

“C’mon, Hannie. I’m not done with you yet. Let me see.” You push his legs apart with your knee. He looks down with you, and the sight makes him burn with embarrassment. He’s leaking so much it’s soaking into the couch, and it’s another sight he has to squeeze his eyes shut to get away from.

“W-what, are you j-just gonna–” he swallows thickly, clears his throat, and tries again. “How long are you gonna make me do this?”

You tilt your head and smile at him like you aren’t melting his brain into goo. “However long it takes for you to learn your lesson.” Leehan whines a little in protest.

“Just wanted you to look at me, missed you so much.”

The look in your eyes softens and you lean forward to place a heartfelt kiss on his lips. “I missed you too, Hannie. So. Much,” you say, cupping his cheeks and pressing more gentle kissing around his face. “It was so hard to focus at work when you kept sending me those treats. But bad boys still have to take their punishments, yeah?” Leehan sighs longingly and nods, resting his head against the back cushions, and reaching for his cock when you instruct him to start over.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

By the fifth denial, he’s a shaking mess, falling apart at the seams and only holding himself together by your command. He’s done for the second you flip your skirt up, slide your panties off, circle your clit right in front of him. You’re so close but so far, and he’s definitely losing his mind. 

“Please– N/N, let me…could fuck you so good,” he begs helplessly, deep voice strained and words stringing together. It’s the first time tonight you actually look interested in what’s happening, and he can’t figure out where to look–at your pretty face as you make yourself feel good, at the wetness leaking out of your pulsing heat, at the way your tits shake when you tug at your nipples. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, keeping your pretty noises to yourself. Leehan thinks that’s the cruelest part of this punishment. 

His hips are fucking up into his hand in a sloppily, a stark contrast to his usually controlled thrusts. He’s not easy to turn into a mess, but you know him better than he knows himself. You know his limits, know that he won’t cum unless you tell him to, know how badly he needs your forgiveness. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just fuck me, please?” But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are focused on his cock drooling all over his legs, at the way it twitches when he’s close. Your hips twitch, and your cunt drools on the table, and his mouth runs dry. He’s too delirious to figure out if your reactions are because of him, if he’s doing good for you. 

“Stop, pretty boy.”

His hand trembles as he pulls it away from his dick and flops it against the couch. He gasps harshly, heaves loudly, and more tears stream down his face as his hips chase friction that’s already gone.

His head is leaning against the back cushions and lolled to the side, but he’s still watching you touch yourself. His mouth hangs open from all of his pathetic begging, and there’s a thin trail of saliva pooling in his mouth and dribbling onto his t-shirt. 

His eyelids are so heavy, but he watches brainlessly as you tease your opening, dip a finger into the heat. It comes back out drenched in creamy white, and he has to dig his nails into the cushion to stop himself from grabbing his dick without permission.

You pull your hands away from your body and straddle him again. He nearly goes cross-eyed when your bare cores touch. It’s so wet, and his entire body shivers with need.

“Aw, Hannie. Look at me. Tell me what you want.”

“Mm, want– wanna taste you, wanna fuck you so bad.” You giggle, and he loses himself somewhere between your sparkly eyes and shiny lips.

“Wanna taste me?” You reaffirm, and he nods dumbly. You straighten his head up and cup his cheeks between your fingers and thumb. You make him watch as you use your free hand to repeat the motions, gathering your wetness on your finger, pushing it through your opening and pulling it out. 

You whimper out freely this time, and the sound is so pretty and sinful Leehan wishes he could tattoo it on his brain, wishes he had recorded it so he can hear it again later. Your hand forces his lips to pucker and his mouth to open, and you press your wet fingers onto his tongue. 

Leehan’s eyes roll again, and his eyebrows crease as the taste of you, the smell of you invades his senses. You always taste so good, so sweet to him.

His eyes focus on you again, but his vision clouds and his hips buck up against you. You slide against him so deliciously, but it’s over too soon when you slide your fingers out of his mouth and pry your hips away from his.

You wipe your wet fingers on his shirt and remind him to look at you, but he is already looking at you, has barely torn his eyes away from you in the last thirty minutes.

He’s completely awestruck, and maybe a little delirious when he swears he can see the faint halo hovering above your head. He tries to tell you how perfect, how much of an angel you are, but his words come out jumbled and unintelligible. 

“Do you have a color for me, baby?”

“Mhm, fuck– green, n-need you so bad. ’m so sorry, p-please, you look so beautiful, t–”

You interrupt him by pressing your lips against his, and Leehan’s convinced he would’ve been talking for the rest of his life if you hadn’t. He’s pretty sure he melts into a puddle of goo when your lips collide, yours so perfect and plush against his. Any function his brain is still performing shuts down immediately, and you have to handle the kiss by yourself, because his lips are slack and useless against yours. There’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you when you pull away from him.

“I think my pretty boy’s at his limit, hm?” You ask, and he doesn’t really know what you’re saying, but anything sounds good coming from you, so he nods and watches with his jaw on the floor as you stand up and pull your skirt off. You pull his shirt off as well, and you’re both bare and vulnerable but safe in your own world, just as Leehan longed for.

You cup his cheeks again and hold his face so he can look up at you as you sink down on his cock, and the noise he makes when you bottom out is broken and pitiful even to his own ears. He knows he must look so fucked out and stupid, but you’re looking at him with so much love in your eyes that he’s sure he looks beautiful anyway. 

You wrap around him so well, your cunt is so tight. It feels like he’d forgotten how it feels to be buried inside you, and to be experiencing it for the first time again has to be parallel to some sort of spiritual ascension. Leehan doesn’t know what he did to deserve it, but he does know he’d spend an eternity here if you allowed it.

Your hands move to grip his shoulders, and you make the most heavenly face of ecstasy Leehan has ever seen. You lift your hips to slide him out, and bottom out again. Your cunt’s sucking him in so greedily, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up. 

“I’ll let you cum if you fuck me, pretty boy,” you say like you read his mind. You grab his lifeless hands and place them on your waist, then grip the back of the couch again. He gets the message clearly, holding you in place as he jerks into you. His thrusts aren’t coordinated at all, and it’s out of pure habit when he angles his hips to fuck right into your sweet spot. 

“Fuck yeah, Hannie. That’s so good, you’re so good,” you moan out, and he uses strength he barely has to aim for that spot, to hear those words from you again. On a particularly hard thrust, your eyes flutter closed.

“Look at me, N/N. Please– look at me,” he begs, voice cracking, and when you do, your eyes are glossy, tears pulling in your waterline. It’s so hot, and finally, your attention is his, and he’s making you feel good, but he’s not gonna last like this.

“You fill me up so good, Hannie. Make me feel so good,” you say breathlessly, eyes locked on his. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna fill me up nicely?” And he’s nodding, pitiful whimpers falling from his lips, whatever you say. 

You trail a hand up his abdomen, to his chest, and tug at his nipple. The rush of pleasure he feels is so intense that the knot in his stomach is fraying and snapping so quickly he can’t even warn you, but he tries through strangled gasps: “Cumming, ‘m, fu–”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It takes Leehan a while to come back to Earth. He’s so tired he can barely move, but you kiss him until his mind returns home. After asking if he’s okay five times and getting five verbal “yes’s,” you clean the two of you up and lead him to bed.

It’s still when he speaks again, eyes searching for yours in the dark room, “I really am sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been more considerate. I respect your work so much, I just got so lonely…” You smile at him softly and reach a hand up to rub circles into his back.

“I’m sorry you were so lonely, Hannie. I should’ve managed my time better, should’ve taken your feelings more seriously. From now on, I’ll keep work at work, and after my project, we can both take time off and go on a vacation. How’s that?”

“That’s perfect,” he says, and means it wholeheartedly, falling asleep with a smile of his own.

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : FUCK THIS TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE LOL i reread it three times pls lmk if there r still typos <3

[yurinaa-world]

Idk if u did this but... I would like to request how Aventurine, Jiaoqiu, Dr. Ratio and Sunday would be in aftercare... 👀👉🏻👈🏻

"𝒫𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒢𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓈"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Aventurine, Jiaoqiu, Veritas Ratio, & Sunday x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: how would they be in aftercare

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, Suggestive(We're going into wild territory), & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

Okay, that depends on how vulnerable he was feeling before, what I mean is he wasn’t vulnerable with you then I like to imagine: he’s taking care of you because your lower half (and upper half) is pretty much out of it.

 He got things done quickly, so it’s just your body wrapped in a blanket, while he lays beside you since you didn’t want him to leave or move, clinging onto him while he teases while lovingly looking at your face as you go in and go to sleep.

If he were vulnerable with you (rare days that happens), then it would be more emotional afterwards, both of you are just exhausted. He usually keeps a face but just with his tired eyes looking down at you, who was already asleep.

He can’t help but want to be in the warmth of your body, just bury his face against your sleeping body and lose himself to sleep.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Didn't you say you were tired? Now you're clinging onto me so tightly.” 

You looked so pretty like this, body all tuckered and sore wrapped in the softest blanket, hair messy—covering your eyes yet you were too tired to even push away the hair from your face, but he can’t forget that cute expression plastered on your face, looking up at him with sleepy eyes and weakly intertwined his fingers with yours—your hold on him wasn’t tight at all like he was trying to make it out to be.

“I didn’t want you to leave..”

how clingy, he loves every second—just gazing at you always makes him go soft, he always takes hold of this moment and keeps it forever. 

Your tired voice makes his heart jump at the sound of it, like a symphony played under the moonlight. his other hand gently rubs the top of your head. 

“So adorable, how lucky can I be?” He praised, moving the strands in front of your face to the side, a better view of your pretty face. You were tempting him badly like you could hypnotize him without even meaning to.

 “You really are my worst addiction,” he tongue clicks, leaning down till you’re inches away from each other, even when you try to lean to take a kiss for yourself, yet he stops you, only to kiss you on the forehead. He chuckles at your disappointment that it was just a kiss on the forehead. 

“Go to sleep”

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

He’s prepared, he’s got everything ready before you start anything. He’s got you sitting, laying your side against him while he’s got his tail wrapped around your body while trying to make you take some medicine to help with terrible pain in the morning.

After making sure you're alright, he gets clingy with you, holding you close to him—he twitches as you sluggishly gently rub his tail, he can’t help but for his ear to twitch and flicker, you just have to tease him about his clinginess even though you’re exhausted.

He can’t help but go a little red in the face, while gently cleaning you off with a soft cloth, cleaning off your body—maybe paying attention to your neck a tad bit too much.

He wants to stay like this, he may be a healer, and his top priority is taking care of others but may he be selfish for wanting to stay like this forever and not let you go? Yes? He found this soft moment with just the best. Just watching you slowly fall asleep, he wants to stay up to admire more but can feel sleep also take him over.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“At least try to drink the water, even if you're tired, I don’t want you to be sick.” he chides, pulling your exhausted body to sit better upright, while holding a glass of water in his unoccupied, groaning as your shaky hand take the glass of water from his hand—his tail and other arm was still wrapped around you to help with balance.

The warm water, dripping down your dry throat—as if you were stuck in the desert with a drop of water—the warm water doesn't hit the back of your throat like you want it to. 

“It’s so warm,” you complained, You feel your throat just close up more at the taste of it, while he just sighed at those words before just popping a pill into your mouth. It’s the best way to make your throat feel better.

“warm water is very beneficial for the throat even if it may not feel good to drink.” 

 taking the glass of water away from you which just causes you to slump back more, he just takes this chance to start cleaning you off with a soft cloth, cleaning your neck off, he can’t help but stop at some marks and pay a bit more attention to them, his fingers putting pressure on it.

Seeing you shake and muffled whines leave your throat as if he was torturing you.

“Jiaoqiu, please…” 

He choked on his spit at the sound of your stutter of his name, his tail and ears immediately twitched. The blood rushed to his face, you know how to make him red in the face without even trying to.

He just can’t help but tease you a bit more by touching a couple—putting pressure on them, he’s going to enjoy this moment with you like this.

💫𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒢𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹"

His muscles aren’t just for show, they are real both in and out of bed. He’s gentle with you of course, he knows you're a deer stuck in headlights because of how you are incoherent right now, your body just covered in marks while you groan in pain every time you even think about moving.

He ends up carried to the bathtub, with a plethora of tired complaints leaving your horse throat. You were too tired to even take a bath with him, but no, hygiene over sleep any day, he cares about your health, it’s not like he’s going to let you drown, he’ll be there for your safety.

Have you lying your back against his chest while your brain isn’t exactly fully there—it’s probably still melted—while veritas just washes your back for you? You complain a lot, it’s like you want to catch something nasty for fun.

He’s loving you the whole time, he has to admit that seeing you tired, slumped against his chest and eyes hooded staring back at him, he finds it adorable. Only for you to move your position and fall asleep—he’ll have to bring you out himself.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“M’ tired.”

To say you were exhausted was an understatement, you feel your body become jello, and your back is just killing you, but Veritas cares about health more than anything which is why he won’t let you lay against to at least get some shut-eye. Your horse voice doesn’t stop for a second to not voice your exhaustion, you just lean back anyway, treating him as if his chest was a pillow.

“Many negative side effects can come from sleeping in a bathtub, I would rather you not drown.” He gently shakes you awake, making you groan, before just pushing you forward, off his chest, leaving a gap between you two. 

Turning your head back at him with an annoyed look—seriously you feel like you’re going to pass out, if he’s that worried he carries you out like he did when he brought you in.

He just sighs at your expression, feeling slightly bad. “Stay still” you hear murmurs. you feel a cold foamy liquid touching your back. “Why bother to scrub—” You stop yourself from finishing your sentence at the gentle scrubbing his hands were doing, it was very nice, it felt like a mountain was taken off your shoulders.

his hand goes to your tense shoulders, easing out the nasty knots that were in your shoulders—all while you groan and suck in your breath at the relief, those sounds you make aren’t that unfamiliar to him. Once he’s pulled his arms away from your shoulders, making you more relaxed (truthfully it makes you more tired). 

“Now I'm just more tired.” 

Veritas frowned, taking your words seriously and pouring water on the top of your head, instead of your shoulders. At this point, you don’t care at all. Leaning back against his chest—closing up the gap between you—he can deal with the consequences of his actions.

 “I’ve already told—”

“I’m too tired…you left me like this so deal with it.”

💫𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝒶𝓀 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎"

He already has everything prepared no matter where or when, the maids have already prepared a bath, water, and anything else you would need afterward, he tries to make sure you are alright, complementing and praising you while your face is buried in his neck and his arms tightly around your body.

Comforting you more by gently rubbing your sore skin, feeling a little bad when you whine at the sore feeling from the marks engraved into your gentle skin, it’s like he was a vampire…

Trying to tempt you into drinking some water even if you’re dazed and completely out of your mind. He even tries to persuade you to at least take a bath, he knows you are tired but he can’t have you be messy in the morning, yet that’s not what you want, you just don’t want to move.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You did well.”

One of many sugar-drenched words he spoke into your ears, it was all you heard from him along with the featherlight touches from his nimble fingers, caressing your back—circling over marks inscribed into your soft skin as if you were his majestic canvas. 

You on the other hand were befuddled, sucking in your breath at the feeling of his fingers while you buried your face in his neck—feeling his wings gently flicker against your face.

“Sunday…”

“You should drink some water,”

The harmony left from your mouth—which is your voice, sounding lost and completely out of it, denying his offer with a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. “Maybe a bath instead? I don’t want you to be messy.” He hummed, gently pulling you back to get a look at the pretty face you’ve been hiding in his neck.

“I don’t want to.”

Your expression turns from relaxed to slightly annoyed, leaning into his neck—as if you were trying to escape from the cold. Yet he disproves this, he can’t leave you like this, not with you’re body in a state like this before going to bed, you don’t know how painful it might be in the morning.

“This won’t do, I’ll bathe with you if you don’t want to be alone.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[jweekgoji]

Hiii I really like your writings and headcanons, especially the ones with yandere sentinel from TF 1 being a sub and us being a power femdom.id really appreciate it if you could write about yn or us finding sentinel after Megatron kills him and we repair sentinel just for him to be our dedicated servant boy put on a leash his entire life.

If you don't feel comfortable with the request you can ignore it and take your time no pressure! ❤️

Sentinel/Reader [TFO]

tw: dark themes, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, touch starvation/co-dependency, brief description of past trauma, anxiety, mentions of death, injuries, angst, dubcon [at the end], reader gets a little yandere-ish. word count: ~1830. a/n: i like this request so much, hehehe.

When you first saw your leader being ripped apart by one of the iaconian miners, you were devastated and as shocked as everyone else. Waking up early today, getting ready for another, long and tiring day of work only to suddenly learn that the bot you looked up to was lying to everyone for 50 cycles?

It felt so surreal, here you were standing over the Sentinel Prime. Ruler of Iacon City yesterday, and a leftover piece of scrap today. You're still not certain how you feel about him after what happened. Maybe it was a remnant of admiration for him, after all, how much has passed since the fight?

You were probably standing there for a good few minutes, staring down at Sentinel, not a word or a flick of emotion on your face. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps behind you and a large servo placed on your shoulder.

“You don't have to do this, I can take care of him if you want,” Optimus says carefully. For some reason, the young Prime already felt responsible for his people.

There was a brief silence between the two of you before you shook your helm in response. You didn't want to bother Optimus with this, knowing that he had gone through enough for the past few days. This is the least you can do, helping with rebuilding a new Iacon and getting rid of the past.

A soft sigh escapes your lips once Optimus leaves you alone. This wasn't supposed to be so hard, wasn't it? Just pick him up, and then...what else? Does Sentinel, the selfish betrayer of his own kind, deserve some respect even after his death? To bury him might be a too much of a kind gesture from you, considering that he had no kindness for anyone but himself. On the other hand, melting his remnants still doesn't sound right for you.

You would have kept thinking about it for hours, until a brief, almost too light to notice pulsating of a spark under the tips of your digits caught your attention. You pause, in mind an immediate “am I imagining this? was it real?”, it felt like everything just went quiet around you. A soft beat, then another. Despite everything, the spark inside his chamber was still beating.

And so, you decided to take care of him.

It was a miracle that he survived. The impact of his injuries should have left him dead, you swear, no, everyone swear to see the light goes off from his optics. He was dead, there are no possible explanation for him not to stay offline like he supposed to be. Some might consider it a blessing of Primus himself, for you just a pure luck.

Outliving 13 Primes, somehow not getting killed by quintessons during one of the secret meetings, and now you, the bot who decided to let him live, even though ignoring everything might have been the best solution.

After countless days of work, you are finally able to stabilize his systems, fixing up a few dents here and there, probably left after his last fight with the silver bot. For a cogless miner before, that mech was surprisingly strong, you note.

You hold a piece of a small energon cube in the palm of your servo. Was it the right choice? You never tell anyone, not even Optimus about what you have found. You knew Sentinel would be thrown in prison, if lucky, or hunted down by Megatron if the news reached him. No, you already went too far, letting anyone find out about Sentinel would be a huge mistake. That's why you made sure he didn't get to keep his lower half of the body. He should never be able to leave.

When you gently pushed the energon cube into his mouth, letting it slip down his throat, you waited. A second of silence...another few—until his optics begin to shine light blue once again. You open your mouth to start explaining everything, but you are immediately interrupted by a loud “no!” and you have to clamp your servo over his mouth to make him quiet.

The mech in front of you remembers only the last few seconds before he went offline, that burning pain through his whole body is now forever printed in his mind. You can see the genuine fear in his optics, which soon changed into surprise once he processed everything. He wasn't in the center of Iacon. No one, but you were around him.

Only after a good few minutes of soft explaining calmed his raising spark. Sentinel was relieved, after all, there are some loyal worshippers of his who took care of him and repaired him! As you stood in front of the former leader, you made sure to leave no details about everything that happened after. A new Prime was born, and D-16, now well known as Megatron, is one of the future concerns for everyone in Iacon besides quintessons. Even after his «death» Sentinel made sure to leave a huge impact on your lives for cycles and cycles in the future.

“And about...the other part of me?” Sentinel asks, glancing down where his lower half should be before looking back at you.

You go silent for a mere second before a quick “I wasn't able to repair it” excuse slips from your glossa.

Thankfully, he swallows this response rather quickly, and without questioning any further, that smug smirk appears on his face, ready to boss you again. It was amusing at first. In such a position, Sentinel forgets, he's a no Prime anymore, just another cogless bot left at your mercy.

You were merciful enough to let him live in this fantasy, letting him think that he has that control over something, despite how annoying he gets whenever you don't do something immediately. What do you mean you have to leave him? He's Sentinel Prime, you should obey and listen to him!...Please?

Maybe in the back of his mind, he slowly realizes it. He's dependent. He can't live without you, he can't even reach for a cube of an energon for himself without you kindly putting it on the tip of his glossa. If you suddenly decide to leave him, he's all alone. That takes a good sacrifice of his own pride to give you a few signs, angrily growling a “Don't you dare to leave!” or “I am not done with you, come back this instant!”.

When you had to leave today once again, making him suffer in the silence of his own thoughts and a soft humming of mechanisms in this room, he felt insecure. He hates it, waiting and counting the seconds until you finally come back to him. How could you disrespect him like this? Who do you think you are, huh?

“Oh, please, leave then! I don't need you anyway,” Sentinel says proudly, rolling his optics with a slight annoyance hidden in his tone.

He doesn't need your help, if you leave, it would change nothing for him. You're just another nameless bot, the one who supposed to serve and listen to him, after all. If you don't want to do what he says, there will certainly be someone else to replace you. Right?

Then why, why he feels that deep, suffocating feeling every time you leave? When he calls your name over and over again, his tone changes from an authoritative to a weak, pleading one. No, no, no, you wouldn't really leave him, would you? He panics, breathing a little heavy at the realization that there he is, with no one but him in here. He's so, so screwed.

With each passing hour, his anxiety grows even more. From the most ridiculous to the most horrifying scenarios, he can't help but silently plead for your soon return. A constant “come back, please, please come back, you can't just leave me here,” in his thoughts. Sentinel would certainly go insane if it weren't for a soft hiss of an opening door. You were back.

Once you are close to him, he quickly wraps his servos around you, clinging to your frame for a dear life. You can hear him, muttering something under his breath over and over again, and without a need to ask him to repeat his words, you understand everything.

“I would never leave you, Sentinel,” you say softly, placing your servo on the side of his face, only for him to lean into it, as if begging for more.

“Please don't,” he whispers back, his servo moving to the back of your helm, making you lean closer to his height so he could kiss you.

Who would have thought that Sentinel Prime is such a touchstarved mech? Begging someone to notice him? Like you? If only you had known that leaving a poor bot for a good day or two all alone would make him such a sucker for attention, you would have done it much sooner.

And suddenly Sentinel is not that annoying, noisy menace, as you remember. Every soft sound he lets out, every gentle caress and touch of his servos on your frame, feels like a desperate attempt to make you stay. He wants to show you that he's worthy of your time, if only you stay!

Sentinel's hold on you is tight, as he keeps you right next to him, afraid that the moment he lets go, you're going to disappear. Just a mere thought of it makes him whine into the kiss, and he pushes his glossa into your mouth, as if hoping to please you.

The moment you pull away from him, Sentinel grips tighter, mewling a soft “no”, a look of desperation in his optics. You can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction from it. How couldn't you, when you have someone who is always so needy of your attention? Always looking forward to the moment you come back?

At this point, he doesn't care what he has to do to keep you with him for another minute or two. The old, commanding and cruel part of him is so ashamed of what he has become. Any other good day in past, you would already be mining energon and hoping for a better future, and he would be a king, just like he was supposed to.

“Please, use me, however you want just— just don't go,” he pleads once again, his servos tightening around your wrists, wanting and needing you closer.

And how can you really tell him no if he asks you so, so nicely today?

You only nod gently at his another plead, placing your servo on top of his helm to gently nudge him lower and to position him between your thighs. Sentinel was so great with every word of his speeches that it's no surprise that he certainly knows how to use his own tongue.

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Slasher!141

AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Price: The captain is a well respected man yet when people go against his orders or blatantly disrespect him, there is this blinding rage that threatens to overtake him. His victims consist of rebellious idiots who think they're above the law. For example theives, drug dealers, tax evaders, people who don't pay their workers right, rapists ect. It irks him that they think the law wouldn't come for them. But in actuality it's because he hates the thought of someone thinking they're above him in any regard. Hell this man threatened a general and a colonel while being a captain. He. does. not. give. a. shit. This man just wants control and that's it. He thinks he's helping the masses and he might be but he's doing it for his own selfish reasons. And it was such a shame you had decided to break into his country home. Out of all of the houses you could have chosen you choose his. He's convinced fate had led you to him. (That's the story he's telling the boys) And who is he to deny fate (only when it suits him). He'll just have to teach you a lesson or two in discipline though. You can't be biting him like that. In his mind there was no point killing such a pretty face. He could reform you into the perfect partner. Don't worry pet, you're lucky he found you when he did. He'll fix you and then you'll live happily ever after with him. (Turns out you were a spy but you kept that to yourself) (He already knew though)

Gaz: Not many people know this but Gaz wasn't always this drop dead gorgeous. The poor boy was relentlessly bullied growing up for being a little chubby and maybe not the best looking person. It's not a surprise that he held on to that resentmen even now when people were practically throwing themselves at him. His victims consist of bullies, tormentors and trolls. People who like to bring other people down. Again this is done for selfish reasons as much as Gaz claims he's doing everyone else a favour. It's an outlet to quell his resentment. Gaz found his partner while paying an online shooting game. It was a high stake tournament where you could win some money. To Gaz it wasn't much since he already made good money at his job but maybe to you it was very important. You were relentlessly trying to get under his skin. You kept trolling him in an effort to distract him, not that it worked. The final straw was when you goaded him into trying to find you. "You can't do shit you ugly fuck, come find me if your all that. Oh! but you can't! Because you a fucking moron and a virgin that can't get laid!" Gaz chuckled at the childish insults. Seems like you needed an attitude adjustment. Finding you was easy, convincing you to go on a date was even easier. It seemed you didn't recognize him. All the better for Gaz then. A chase around an abandoned building should set you straight. It would be shame to kill someone so adorable. So he was just going to scare some manners into you.

Ghost: Simon has had a rough life. Growing up in the household he did wasn't easy. No surprise that it led to some psychological side effects. He has so much built up rage and anger sometimes he didn't know what to do with it. It manifests in uglier ways if he doesn't deal with it. His scars being a testament to that. His victims consist of violent alcoholics and violent drug addicts or any violent person in general. Other times it's just loud mouthy douchebags at pubs that harass young woman. He isn't doing this for some nobel reason. He just need to get the rage out before he hurts himself. And the scum of society are usually targets people wouldn't miss. Doing it this way made his life easier. Ghost met his partner in an alleyway as he was finishing up his kill for the night. You had drunkenly stumbled onto the wrong street when you had spoted him. You looked absolutely terrified and ready to run but Simon couldn't let that happen. He wasn't going to jeopardize everything he built because a bird caught him doing something unsavory. You made his job easier by fainting when he came near you. Hauling you in his truck was even easier. He wasn't expecting to find his life partner while out on one of his kills. But it seemed like god was looking out for him. It took a while to make you behave but he got you there in the end. And now you welcome him home with loving arms creating the family he should have had all along.

Soap: Growing up Soap was considered the class clown. And just because he was a little peculiar. Yes he was extroverted and loud but that didn't mean he was stupid. Though that stigma never really left him. Not in school, not even in the military. Despite excelling physically and academically in both institutions he was always treated as if he was stupid. Which infuriated him considering he became a demolition's expert. He knew what he was doing but people stilled viewed him like something less than and it made his blood boil. Soaps victims consist of snobs and pretentious idiots, especially ones that pretend to know what they're doing. He goes after people who specifically try to use big words to make others feel dumb. Or people who ridicule and judge others for not knowing niche topics. A good place to find these kinds of people are in prestigious universities where mommy and daddy's money bought their entitled children a space to study. That's how Soap found his partner. It was at a university where people complained about your snobby attitude. It was a running joke that majority of people in uni knew. Turns out you were just introverted and too shy to talk normally so you'd just go on tangents about your niche topics to dispel the awkwardness. People took that as you trying to make them feel dumb. Don't worry though Dove. You'll never have to deal with people like that again. You can just live in the forest with him and he'll listen to all your little tangents while fucking you senseless. You don't need people in your life that don't appreciate your intelligence especially since you have him now.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Slasher!Soap Masterlist

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

We Agree to Your Terms (part 23)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

TW: descriptions of violence

They talked about Danny's conditions for helping, he had an idea what they were going to be already. But he wanted and needed Jason behind him every step of the way here so Danny talked out as much of his thought process as he could.

As they talked they watched videos as they came out, livestreams and news clips talking about the destruction being caused by the new, unidentified threat. The videos were grainy and corrupted, as most videos of ghosts were, but most of them were clear enough to see what was happening, especially the ones that were taken from a bit of a distance. Those ones were less likely to come to an abrupt bloody end.  

They watched as heroes arrived on scene, and along with them the drone that Danny had infused with ecto so they hacked into its stream instead. Danny was amused to see that it was occasionally ignoring directions, apparently it had developed a little bit of a mind of its own but it was still doing its job.  

The heroes quickly realize most of their attacks had no effect at all on Pariah Dark. The only ones who seemed like they could touch him were Raven, John Constantine, and of course, Phantasm. But all they could do was slow him down and try to buy a little more time for the other heroes to evacuate as many civilians as they could. Danny tensed every time Ellie had a close call, but he couldn’t rush off to save her. Not yet.

The destruction was hard for him to watch, people were dying, and not just a few. The skeleton army and Pariah himself were ruthless and entirely without remorse. Danny saw more than one truly impressive spray of blood, limp bodies falling to the ground and after the first couple he watched with dissociative disinterest. More lives were ruined then just those who were ended, homes were being destroyed, one town was already all but levelled and those who had been evacuated in time would have little to nothing to go back to, it was a major humanitarian disaster in progress. 

They watched an interview as one of the GIW agents arrived on scene, at first they were barely able to disguise their glee as they explained that this was a ghost. Ghosts were dangerous and unfeeling blah blah blah, all their usual talking points. But not to worry! The GIW had the weapons and knowhow to deal with this threat! 

This was what they had wanted the entire time after all, a ghostly rampage to prove their worth to the world. Or at least this was what they thought they wanted, if only it weren’t a matter of minutes before it was completely obvious they were outgunned and untested. All they were good for was meat shields to get the civilians out, and at least Danny could find some joy in that. Watching those all too familiar white suits get ripped up and stained red with blood soothed deep, angry aches imprinted on Danny’s core. He couldn’t help but laugh at their futile fight, some got a few lucky shots off, but at best they took out a handful of skeletons, and Pariah could always summon more of those.

 Then the GIW weren’t even good as meat shields. They had barely bought a few minutes of time for the evacuation efforts before half of them broke and ran! Booking it as soon as it was obvious this was a real threat, and not something they could deal with with their stolen and half baked weapons. The selfish cowardly little cringelings! 

Danny snarled and curled his fingers into claws, barely resisting digging them into Jason’s arms as he held Danny close and made soothing noises. He had never felt so much disdain for another creature as these wannabe heroes who weren’t actually interested in anything besides their own glorification. 

“It won’t be much longer,” Jason soothed Danny, “They’re running out of ideas I’m sure, they’ll call soon. I’ve already declined three calls from Batman.” They had decided not to answer Bruce, he’d probably want them to do the ‘right thing’ with no guarantee of any change and that wasn’t something they were interested in. Danny was waiting to hear from Diana, or maybe one of the leaders themselves.

It was Diana who called, which made sense since Deadman probably didn't have a phone. Jason picked up her call after the first ring which was sure would annoy the hell out of Bruce knowing that his calls were being purposefully screened. 

“Hello, thank you for answering, Red Hood. I wouldn’t have blamed you and your Lover for leaving this world to its fate,” She said with bitter rage. “But I believe these ninnyhammers are ready to see sense. Will you come back and give them a second chance?” She asked patiently. Danny wondered if Themyscira would be alright even if the rest of the world fell, most Gods had to be some sort of neverborn and they protected the island of the Amazons right? Maybe Wonder Woman’s people would be okay.

“We’ll come, but we’re no longer willing to compromise,” Jason growled into the fun.

“Understood,” Diana said in a clipped tone and Jason hung up.

“Are you ready Danny,” Jason asked softly as he pocketed his phone again. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Danny sighed. “Let's just get this over with before anyone else gets hurt.” He straightened and dipped down to re-enter the meeting hall, through the ceiling this time. Danny’s makeshift throne was still there so Danny went straight back to it and sunk down into it, Jason standing at his shoulder again. He couldn’t really help with this other than supporting Danny, and being proud of him for taking charge like this. It was a far cry from how subservient he had been early on. 

Danny had grown so much, and so had Jason. When he was newly back in Gotham so full of rage and so much to prove he wouldn’t have been able to stand behind anyone in silent support. Hell he probably would have shot this place up for talking to Danny the way they had before he’d been in therapy. This was a bitter thing, having to stand in front of this meeting, but it felt like a culmination of their growth. 

“So, you called me back,” Danny said as he leaned back in his icey throne, making it look far more comfortable than it truly must be. 

“You have to do something about this,” Someone demanded, Danny didn’t bother to seek out who it was since he didn’t recognize the voice. 

“Do I?” Danny laughed. “Because I thought you just finished saying it was your job to protect your people.”

“But this is a ghost, this is one of yours!”

“Technically, No he’s not,” Danny grimaced. “That’s the previous king so he currently outranks me. Besides I could defeat him, but he’s not a threat to my people right now. So no, I will not help. I will, however, accept your surrender.” 

“What?” Agent W yelped, why she was still present Danny had no idea. 

“You heard me. He will keep going, he's obsessed with expanding the ranks of the dead he rules. He's attacked the earth before, and I'm sure you remember who it was who defeated him then,” Danny said, turning his gaze to agent W.

“Well it was a couple of our correspondents, the Dr's. Fenton. They-” She blustered.

Danny made an incorrect buzzer noise. “Wrong, some of their tech was used but who was wielding that tech?” He demanded, staring her down. “You're under oath, don't even think about lying.” 

She didn’t answer, but the lemon bitten expression on her face was answer enough really.

“That's right! Last time he broke through I saved the world from him, and my thanks was being captured and tortured. I don't plan to make that mistake again. This time if you want my help you will agree to my terms before I take care of the problem.” 

“And what are your terms?” Diana asked, despite everything she sounded patient and calm, bless her. 

Danny nodded to her gratefully and braced himself before he started talking. He needed to sound confident and reasonable, he didn’t want to sound angry but he also couldn’t leave any doubt he was serious. He did not want to waste any time debating. 

“One; I want the anti-ecto acts repealed and ghosts added to the meta protection acts. Two; I want any active portals to be handed over to the combined control of the Justice League, myself, and my court. Three; I want to be the one called if there are any future issues with ghosts so they can be dealt with through our justice system. Four; I want diplomatic immunity for me and my betrothed. Finally; I want all high ranking members of the GIW handed over to my court so I can be sure they see appropriate consequences for their actions.” 

“You can’t expect us to hand over our-” The American representative started.

“I don’t care what you’re about to say,” Danny interrupted, holding up his hand to stop them. “And I’m not interested in negotiating. If you’re not ready to agree to my terms I’ll wait. But you better not make me wait too long, because casualties are stacking up and before I agree to help I’ll need a signed surrender, and agreement to my terms.”

“Esteemed leaders, there is one more thing that we can try,” Agent W spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention to her. At least she had the good sense to look nervous, but it seemed like the GIW wasn’t ready to give up, annoyingly enough.

“What is it?” Batman was the one to ask, this time he wasn’t even trying to hide his suspicion. 

“We have another weapon, developed by Fentons and further refined by us. We didn’t want it to come to that because it’s a more destructive weapon, hard to wield, and expensive to produce. But we have developed an ecto-missile that-”

“No!” Danny interrupted glaring at her. “You built that missile to try and destroy the ghost zone itself. It’s not safe to-”

“It’s an ectoplasmic weapon it’s not dangerous to-”

“Ectoplasm is clearly still dangerous to humans! Otherwise ghosts wouldn’t be the threat you clearly think they are. Besides to increase the destructive energy and fallout I Know you tried to add nuclear energy. If you fire that thing you will cause more harm to civilians then to the enemy you’re trying to destroy! I don’t know how big you made that thing, but given that you wanted it to destroy an entire dimension, how much of North America are you willing to sacrifice in the hopes it might take out Pariah Dark?”

“What other options are you giving them!?” She snapped at Danny, but he could see the desperation on her face. She knew if they did agree she would be handed over to his justice so he could hardly blame her for grasping at straws.

“To agree to my terms. As soon as the documents are signed I will go fight him. I have a good track record of keeping civilian casualties to an absolute minimum once I’m involved. How many people from the GIW will you have to hand over? A couple dozen? To save thousands of civilian lives, rather than sacrificing hundreds of civilian lives to maybe stop the threat. I think I’m offering a very good deal,” Danny said. He was trying not to sound desperate, but he didn’t want to see any more people hurt then necessary and he was scared they were about to make a terrible mistake.

“You expect us to surrender-”

“He’s not even asking for the reparations he would almost certainly be due!” Wonder Woman snapped, her tone generally startling Danny with how furious she sounded. “His terms are downright kind. You should agree to them.” 

“I have sent the requirements to a friend of mine who is drawing up the contact,” Batman growled. “When you come to your senses the surrender will be ready to print and sign.” 

Danny felt a little tension bleed out of his shoulders at the tacet agreement from Batman. He had been worried that he wouldn’t, and he had been worried that if the leaders or their lawyers wrote the document they would put in some sort of trick or trap that he wouldn’t be educated enough to catch. He didn’t think that Batman would pull something like that. He might have been smart enough to do something like that, but he was fair and he didn’t like those sort of sneaky tricks. Not with them, not if he wanted any of his kids to keep talking to him anyway.

“Good, should we leave again so all of you can consider?” Red hood asked, standing straight with his hands loose at his sides. “I don’t want to see you have to watch you weigh these people’s lives against your pride,” He spat contemptuously.

Danny nodded and pressed his palms against the arms of his throne, ready to push himself up. He didn’t want to see that either, he could feel the mounting death toll churning in his gut with every passing minute spent here deliberating. He hoped he would be a better leader than these people at least, more decisive and willing to make the hard choices even when it scared him.

“There’s no need for that,” Someone spoke up and when Danny looked up their mouth was set into a firm line. “The decision is obvious isn’t it? We would have to be mad to prefer wanton destruction over a reasonable compromise to gain a new ally. That is what it means that we’d call you for future ghost problems, correct?” 

“Yes that is what I meant,” Danny said, settling back in his seat. “I don’t think there will be many issues, especially once we have joint control of existing portals, but if there are, call me as soon as you can. I will make sure they are dealt with quickly and with minimal damage," he assured.

Not everyone looked happy about the solution, but Danny didn’t care. If they dragged their feet signing the paper damages would be on their heads, not Danny’s. A staff member came running in with a piece of paper and Batman got up to meet them, it was two pages but it looked like the second was basically just lines for signatures. 

“Do you want to have a look at it first?” He asked Danny, in a surprisingly gentle voice walking over and offering him the paper. 

Jason was the one who leaned forward and took it before Danny could. Batman seemed a bit surprised but relinquished it to Jason with a barely perceptible nod and stood by, waiting to take it back when they were done. Red Hood glanced over it and then handed it to Danny, who gave him a small smile and a nod before taking his time to read the document. Yes they were in a rush but it was only one page and he wanted to make doubly sure it covered everything he needed it to cover. And it did, it had Danny’s list of terms of surrender reworded into formal language and asserted that by signing the document they were agreeing to the Ghost King’s terms.

He handed it back to Batman with a nod of approval. Batman nodded back and went back to his seat, handing it to Diana who read the terms of surrender aloud to the room. She signed it without hesitation once she finished reading it, and passed it to the leader next to her. It was at that point that Agent W started to have a meltdown, a sight that really amused Danny as she started screaming they couldn’t do this, they couldn’t hand her over to those monsters. She was quickly escorted out of the room and he just hoped that she was going to be held in custody or she might make a break for it. It was going to take a bit to round up all the members of the GIW he wanted he was sure, oh well, he could be patient. 

Around the room it went, some hesitated to sign more than others, but no one completely refused to sign it. As time went on and new death tolls came in and got higher and higher those who hesitated too long were booed down quickly. The urgency was starting to set in as it finally processed that this was really happening. This wasn’t exactly the begging Danny had hoped for, but given how stupidly proud a lot of human’s were, this was good enough.

Finally all of the leaders had agreed to the terms. An attendant was sent out of the room at a run to copy the document so that Danny could have a copy and so could the Justice League. Danny couldn’t help starting to fidget at that point, he was itching to Go! Both to end the suffering of the people in the path of destruction and to finally end this once and for all. The threat of Pariah Dark and his eventual crowning had been hanging over his head for years, it was time to face his demons and beat the shit out of them. 

As soon as he got the paper and had glanced it over he stood and handed the signed surrender off to Jason. “Great! I’ll be going to deal with Pariah now, the rest of you can make yourself useful and start rounding up the GIW.”

“We will,” Diana assured, looking determined and angry. 

“Great,” Danny said and grabbed Jason before flying out of the building through the ceiling again and back towards the US as quickly as he could without damaging Jason. 

“You had better not be planning to drop me off somewhere away from the fight,” Jason shouted over the sound of the wind. “I’m coming with you, both my brother and your little sister are there! I want to try and make sure Robin and Nightwing don’t get hurt.” 

Well, at least he wasn’t talking about trying to protect Danny. “I won’t,” Danny agreed with a resigned sigh. “I have a feeling that trying to leave you somewhere would just piss you off and you’d find a way to get in trouble anyway.”

“You’re damn right I would,” Jason promised, and Danny both hated him and loved him for how damn smug he sounded.

Once they were close enough for a running drop off far enough away that Pariah wouldn’t spot them and try to shoot them out of the sky. An experience which could barely inconvenience Danny and completely destroy Jason. Once Jason was safely on the ground Danny was face to face with Pariah Dark in seconds. 

“Aha! The little king finally shows himself,” Pariah sneered mockingly. “I assume this means you’re ready to be destroyed.”

Danny expected to be scared, to feel impending doom and anger. But he looked at this specter of his childhood and he felt… nothing. After everything that he had been through, Pariah didn’t scare him anymore, and he certainly didn’t hate him like Danny did the GIW. He was just an irritation, a barrier to the life that he wanted. 

“Shut up and let’s get this over with,” Danny snarled and sent a blast of energy toward Pariah that he barely managed to dodge by flying up to meet Danny in mid air. 

Danny was ready for him.

[m1d-45]

just a small idea since you said you had a lil writers block: since wushi (lion dance) is used for important events/occasions and to honor special guests, maybe you could write about how ga-ming does a lil performance for creator?

- curse anon

vanguard’s fortune

note: this is not what you asked ! i thank you so much though

word count: 1k

-> warnings : written prior to 4.4, lots of “if you know you know” spoilers for liyue archon, story, and hangout quests, but nothin big

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept

< masterlist >

despite everything, ga ming knew he was lucky.

he certainly didn’t feel like he was. aside from his continued streak of bad luck at his performances, you never attended any of his shows and your vessels never gave him so much as a second glance. you’ve walked right by him on the street before—and yes, he knows you don’t ‘see’ most of liyue, but he was in the middle of a dance. he’s certain that word must have spread at least somewhat, but even when he put on a show during the last lantern rite, you didn’t attend. it was as if you didn’t even know he was there, skipping his meager stage to meet up with yun jin.

part of him wondered if you simply disliked liyue, but that was easily proven false. you took the time to accompany chongyun on his patrols, xiangling was more than happy to talk about when you’d helped her in a competition in mondstat, and you’d even fetched ingredients for the wangsheng consultant last year. it was the simple fact that you had nothing against liyue, and he was an outlier.

and yet, he was blessed. vision wielders were rare on their own, and only a thin sliver of them had constellations. he was incredibly lucky to be one of the few within your spotlight of attention, but he never felt the love that was supposed to come with it. yes, he had a vision, the lion carved on the back a figure he’s long memorized, but even the latest of liyuen rotations had a chance to exist by your side. though the others always tried to reassure him, their words fell flat. xingqiu had recieved his vision long before he became a vessel, but he had several turns in the sky to try. chongyun was largely ignored and ningguang was rarely missing from the jade palace, but that information didn’t help as much as they thought it did.

he didn’t care that he wasn’t a vessel (as much as one couldn’t care about such a thing) so much as he was ignored. you fought by ningguang’s side and helped yanfei out of the chasm, but he’d never even heard his name thrown your direction. it could be argued that he was being selfish or even egotistical, but he didn’t think so. sword and strongbox secure transport agency was a well-known name throughout liyue, and yet you’d never so much as heard a rumor. it didn’t affect his business—nor did he want your attention for business purposes—but with you helping a film show (at least now he knew you enjoyed theater) in fontaine, he may or may not have been hoping that yilong wharf’s name might have been passed your way.

it hadn’t been, though. his days went on and he continued his rounds as usual, doing his best to promote his dance and maybe getting a few mora thrown his way in return if he was lucky.

but that was fine. irritating, sure, but fine. liyue was in the tail end of preparations for this year’s lantern rite, and he was set on attending. as soon as the ministry of civil affairs opened applications for performers, he’d done his best to secure himself a stage. nobody had given him a secure word, though, saying that it was “up to divine guidance” as if your traveler hadn’t taken the transport up to the jade chamber last week. yes, you often found other things to do during lantern rite, digging into liyue’s past, but you still attended the scheduled events. you still walked the streets and saw the stalls, and there was no way that the entirety of the main road was already taken up when he’d made a point of asking early.

it was because they saw him as a guard first and a dancer second. most people did, and he was lucky they’d given him uncertainty over a guaranteed rejection. the only reason they did at all was because of the constellation etched into his vision, and he was lucky to have that too. he was lucky to have this chance when most street performers could only dream of performing at the lantern rite.

‘lucky.’ it was an accurate word, but one he was beginning to get tired of hearing.

it was fine, though. he was determined—his vision blazed as he left the ministry’s office, a constant warmth at his side—to prove himself, determined to perform for you. he didn’t know when his chance in the stars would be, or when he’d have his time by your side, but he would make the most of each day until then. when, not if, he did, he would do everything in his power to make the best impression possible.

he gave a few polite waves to various merchants as he walked through liyue, making the familiar trek over the bridge and past the gate. the millelith didn’t stop him, and he didn’t stop to say hello, only lingering long enough to acknowledge them with a quick nod. he knew liyue’s hills and they knew he did too, easily navigating to a quiet, flat space of plain. the threat of hillichurls was a constant outside the harbor, but he didn’t let that stop him, confident despite the growing twilight.

ga ming reached into his inventory and pulled on his mask, hands easily finding the controls for the massive puppet. he took a breath, then began to dance, his feet sweeping over the quiet grass.

he had no guarantee when or if he’d receive the chance to chance to win your favor. but if you chose to have him on your stage, he was determined to put on the best show you’d ever seen.

[justtimings]

Gojo Satoru - "Could Get Used to This"

summary: satoru revels in the blissful morning with his lover.

contents: fluff, slightest bit of angst, established relationship, fem reader, sappy satoru bc my heart needs it

a/n: this was sorta inspired by jiwoo's 'greed'. that song is so good it screams satoru to me

word count: 0.6k

The humming of the birds accompanied with the soft rays peeking through the curtains caused Satoru to awake from his sleep, his squinted eyes rapidly blinking to adjust to the light. He stifles a yawn and refrains from stirring around in fear he'll wake you.

He slowly removes his arms from your waist to stretch, almost letting out a groan from the relief, and relaxes once more into the bed. Upon seeing your resting form, he cooes internally and can't help his endearing gaze when met with the sight of you. You're so precious, too precious to him, and he feels himself falling in love all over again as his heart thrums in his chest, the feeling only you bring out of him.

How did I ever get this lucky?

The strongest sorcerer never believed love was meant for him, or rather, he could not afford it. Not when he bears the weight of being the Gojo Satoru, the sole heir to the clan, possessor of the Six Eyes and Limitless; not when he experienced why it was the most twisted curse of all. That is, until you came into his life. Satoru is aware of the dangers that may await you, being his lover, but he allows himself to be selfish a while longer, to forget his responsibilities and bask in your presence. He knows you'd want him to do the same, too.

Your eyes peek open, slowly adjusting to the soft light shining on you. You stay like this for a while in a calming silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun creeping up your face, giving your eyelids the time to fully awaken. Taking a sharp inhale, you stir in bed and, no longer feeling your boyfriend's weight on you, sit up and turn around to him sweetly staring at you. A shy smile makes its way to your lips at the sight as you lazily yawn, your face scrunched from stretching your arms before plopping back onto the mattress to face him.

"Good morning 'Toru," you whisper, your voice holding hints of raspiness: he thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. Reaching out to run your hands through his hair, his silky strands bring you immediate comfort. You lightly scrape his scalp, to which he lets out a contempt sigh. "Mornin' baby," he says back, gingerly tracing your lips with his fingers before quietly clearing his throat to speak once more. "You sleep good?"

You hum, your hands sliding down to draw light circles on his back. You lean in peck and him all over his face, your feathery lips tickling his face, causing him to let out a breathy chuckle. "I'm gonna go make us some waffles. You comin'?" you ask, pushing yourself off the bed, but you can't help but notice Satoru's constant gaze, as if his eyes are glued to you. A slight smile creeps up onto his features, and a beat passes with no reply from him.

"Baby, you good?" you question, adornment evident in your tone, your head cocked to the side with a subtle grin forming on your face. Had his silence occured in any other setting, you'd have been concerned, but the tender look and fuzzy smile he wears on his face tells you everything you need to know. You'd never felt so full of love until now.

It's moments like these that Satoru ingrains in his memory indefinitely: the little interactions that always accompany him, even when he's not with you. They make him feel as if he's floating in pure bliss, and at times he finds it impossible to believe he's obtained this. He dreams of marrying you, of growing old together, of every morning being just as heartwarming as this one.

"Yeah baby, I'm fine," he assures you, his smile widening as he stands from the bed. "Let's go make those waffles," he says, walking towards you until he's a width away from your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. He leans down to repeatedly kiss your forehead, muttering 'I love you's' in between each one.

I could get used to this, he thinks.

this is my very first fic, so if you have any criticism, please lmk! don't be afraid to dissect anything and everything because i know i need more practice, so your tips are very much needed and appreciated!

[atzloverr]

Chapter 8 - selfish desire

previous chapter - next chapter

series masterlist

warning! includes yandere themes, violence, abuse, kidnapping, (see masterlist for more)

“I know she’s not.”

Yeosang took a deep breath, listening attentively to his roommate’s hoarse voice.

“I know she’s not dead.”

He glanced at Wooyoung’s eyes which stared into nothingness. His wide stare made the dark bags under his eyes even more apparent. Yeosang had almost given up on trying to get his roommate to eat for the past few days, seeing as he only got more aggressive for every day that passed. Keyword, almost.

He could barely admit that his friend was in denial, because Yeosang himself didn’t want to realize that you were actually dead. The difference was that Yeosang had started to get used to the thought.

He wanted Wooyoung to be right about you. He wanted you to still be alive somewhere. But he couldn’t let himself dream like that, not even for a second. He already knew what effects it would have.

“She would never give up on me. She would never just admit that I…” Wooyoung stopped mid sentence, his breath hitching in his throat.

The two sat in silence for minutes, the only audible sounds being an occasional sniffle from either of them.

This might’ve been the first time they had been able to hold a conversation without Wooyoung breaking down in sobs, but Yeosang honestly preferred that. This eerie silence didn’t do anything to soothe his nerves.

“Woo—“

“Don’t say it!” Wooyoung shouted, making his roommate almost jump in a start. “Don’t tell me that I need to let it go, or that this isn’t good for me. I can’t—“ Wooyoung’s breath got caught in his throat, tears starting to flow from his eyes once again.


He didn’t get to finish his sentence before getting embraced by Yeosang, not a single word leaving either of their mouths until they finally fell asleep for the night, still holding onto each other.

Hours later, Yeosang could feel himself slowly drifting awake, his heavy eyelids reluctantly opening.

“Yeosang-ah,” Wooyoung shook him. Yeosang sat up quickly at the sudden commotion. “Remember that friend of yours, the one who’s a cop now?”

Yeosang blinked slowly, processing the question in his dazed state. He only replied with a nod. “I have an idea.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jongho couldn’t hide the shock on his face when his old friend barged into his office one day. After years of not talking, here he was, probably looking the least tidied up anyone had ever seen him.

“Hey, been a while hasn’t it,” Yeosang said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Jongho nodded slowly, an amused laugh leaving his lips, formed in a small smirk.

When Yeosang explained the reason for his visit, Jongho patiently listened, as his confusion only grew.

“Why are you so interested anyway? Had a crush on the girl or something?”

Yeosang nearly choked at Jongho’s blunt approach, but soon composed himself.

“No… In fact, she’s a… dear friend to me,” Yeosang said, a far away look in his eyes. Although you were Wooyoung’s friend first and foremost, Yeosang had built a fondness of you over the past years. You had become his friend too, and of course, the news of your death had affected his life as well.

Seeing Wooyoung in the state he was in didn’t exactly help with Yeosang’s constant anxiety right now. As much as he wanted to be the perfect friend for Wooyoung and be there for him in these hard times, this had taken a toll on Yeosang’s own mental health.

“Okay… Here’s her file. This is everything we’ve got so far. You’re lucky you’ve got a contact here. This is confidential,” Jongho said, pointing the finger on the table at each syllable of the last word.

Yeosang slowly took your file and opened it up. There was basic information about you and details about the day you had last been seen. Yeosang eyed it further, seeing that there were barely any details about what could’ve happened, or how they even found you in that lake.

“Have the police working on this even tried to solve this?” Yeosang asked, huffing in annoyance. “What do you mean they don’t know how long she was in the lake!? Isn’t there a way to find that out?” Yeosang raged. Jongho’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Trust me, if I was allowed to interfere, I would,” Jongho sighed. Yeosang closed the file, not even wanting to look at the pictures of your deceased body that were shown in the end.

“Now, could you show me the file of Jeong Yunho?” Yeosang asked, tone serious, looking straight into Jongho’s wide eyes.

Since this was the only thing on Wooyoung’s mind, he had made all types of bizarre connections to other things, trying to make sense of what happened. As much as Yeosang didn’t even want to think it, he had to admit your two cases were very alike, also having happened around the same time, only two weeks in between each other.

“Know the guy?” Jongho asked, searching on his computer. Yeosang looked around the room. “Well, not exactly, but…” Jongho quirked a brow at his odd behavior. “Whatever, I’ll explain it to you once we get the file okay?”

Jongho stood up to go and fetch it, just humming in agreement. He had to admit he would’ve preferred a phone call or text message before getting a sudden visit from his old friend, but what to do…

When Jongho slammed the case file on the table, Yeosang wasted no time in opening it, letting his eyes take in everything. He placed Yunho’s file next to yours, silently comparing the two.

“Look here,” Yeosang alerted the younger male. “Don’t you find this odd? Two victims, going to the same university, get abducted almost exactly two weeks in between each other, and both of them later get found dead. This can’t be a coincidence…” Yeosang ran a hand through his hair. Jongho silently studied Yeosang’s troubled expression.

“I do admit the person responsible probably has some sort of connection to both of them, but I’m not sure if—“

“Do we know that they’re dead?” Jongho’s jaw dropped slightly in shock. “Yes. They have been declared dead by the department, they—“, “Do we know? Have you seen the bodies?”

Jongho coughed slightly at the questions. “Well, no, but I’m not allowed to interfere. It’s not my case to work on.”

Yeosang closed the files, meeting Jongho’s gaze with a fierce expression. “So, who works on it? Have they made any progress with finding the killer?”

“Yeosang, we don’t even know if it’s the same killer, this could just be two completely unrelated events that only cause suspicion in you because you cared about the girl.”

Yeosang’s unforgiving eyes didn’t waver. It made Jongho squirm in his spot.

“Do you really think that’s the way it is?” Yeosang asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Jongho sighed deeply. “My opinion on this isn’t necessary, it’s—“

“Tell me, Jongho.”

A silence filled the small office, Jongho continuing to fidget with his sleeves uncomfortably. Another deep sigh was heard from Jongho before he sat down. Yeosang almost made a gesture in happiness. Finally, he had given in.

“Of course I think they’re related. I think almost everyone in the station does. Well, everyone except the ones who are working on it,” Jongho poured out, a huff of frustration leaving his mouth. Yeosang blinked.

“Who are the ones working on it?” Yeosang asked, eyes still plastered on the officer in front of him. “Officer Choi and Lee. They often work together, despite their record of putting cases down when they’re far from solved,” Jongho looked away.

“Full names please.”

“Choi Sangcheol and Lee Mansik,” Jongho said, no longer hesitant to reveal information. Yeosang quickly noted the two names on his phone.

“Thank you for this, Jongho. I don’t think you understand what this means to us,” Yeosang confessed, giving his friend a smile the officer had learned to miss over the years. “Us?” Jongho questioned.

“Remember Wooyoung?” Jongho’s eyes widened at the name, memories of their high school days coming back. “He’s Y/n’s best friend. They’ve known each other for years…”

Jongho gasped slightly and nodded, understanding the situation. “This won’t be our last time speaking, we should meet sometimes, well, outside of your office,” Yeosang giggled. He gained a smile from the officer, before finally waving goodbye.

Yeosang immediately picked up the phone in his pocket, clicking the number one contact on his list. He didn’t even hear a beep before Wooyoung’s voice was heard.

“Choi Sangcheol and Lee Mansik. They’re the officers working on the case.”

Wooyoung was quiet into the phone for a moment.

“Well, looks like we’ve got some digging to do.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Hongjoong’s firm hands laid themselves on Seonghwa’s small waist, the small fingers gently digging themselves into the back of his lover. Hongjoong’s eyes were closed, and he couldn’t help but smile when Seonghwa’s slender fingers caressed his neck.

Pulling the man closer, Hongjoong started slowly dancing to the jazzy tune playing from the record player. Seonghwa’s deep voice hummed the song, having memorized it from how often Hongjoong would play it.

“Your voice is so beautiful, my love,” Hongjoong whispered. “Only for me.”

The two continued their slow dancing in the large living room, their hands roaming each other’s bodies more desperately for every second that passed, the slightly seductive mood getting further escalated by the sound of the piano getting gently played in the beautiful music playing.

Your eyes fluttered open, and your head immediately whipped around in panic as you took in the unfamiliar room you found yourself in. Like every time you had woken up in this place, your breath soon quickened, your heartbeat rising as your confusion grew.

Sitting up, you noticed to your surprise that you were not held back by any restraints.


The room was quite small, and had a cozy atmosphere. Bookshelves surrounded the room, a small window with all kinds of complicated locks facing the dark forrest being the only light source expect for the small light on the bedside table. You gazed out the window when you stood up, not wanting to believe that you were in fact surrounded by the deepest forrest you had ever seen, not any other dorm of civilization in sight.

You tip-toed around the room, examining it further, when you suddenly stopped. Music. Music was playing from the bottom floor. You recognized the song. It was a from a jazz vinyl your parents always used to play to you when you were a child.

Your hand rose to your opened mouth, a single tear trickling down your cheek at the familiar sound. You would’ve never found it peculiar that anyone else played this specific song, as it was pretty popular, but with what you had learned about Hongjoong and his stalking tactics so far, you felt goosebumps creeping up your neck.

You heard the sound of someone humming the melody, followed by a few words being exchanged.

Envisioning the living room below you, you were reminded by the events of the night before. You were still wearing that same outfit Hongjoong had picked out for you.

You could practically hear your own screams as you recalled the memory, more tears now exiting your swollen eyes as the song continued to play downstairs.

You quickly wiped your tears away, before walking towards the almost closed door. You made sure to open it as slowly as you could, not wanting to risk making any noise. A creak was heard and you immediately stopped and listened for footsteps, voices, anything. Nothing was heard.

Taking a deep breath through your mouth, you continued to open the door. You wanted to jump in joy when it decided to be silent when you opened it just enough for you to seep through the space.

“My angel,” you heard. You could easily identify it as Hongjoong’s voice. You could tell who it was directed to, having only heard him use that tone with one person before. Seonghwa.

You stood close to the wall before slowly itching closer to the stairs. You tried to properly remember the layout of the house, after only seeing it once, briefly. You knew the stairs led to the living room, meaning that if Hongjoong was there, you were going to be caught if you went down.

You furrowed your eyebrows. There were three other doors on this floor. One seeming to lead to a bathroom, while the others remained unknown. The window in the room you woke up in seemed to have some sort of system, too complicated for you to figure out before getting caught. Surely, not all windows were like that, right?


You slowly walked back into the corridor, heading towards the first room that was not the one you were just in. You tried to open it just as, if not even more carefully as you had the other, still not opening it more than necessary, just enough for you to sneak inside.

Knowing that Seonghwa was downstairs, you figured it was no danger walking in to the other rooms. You had no idea where Yunho was, but you figured he would only help you find an escape if he were to meet you up here.

You snaked yourself inside the gap, almost holding your breath to not make any noise. Your eyes widened as you took in the large room. It was such a contrast to the other room you had been in, the huge bed not being an exception. Your eyes found the window, it too being extraordinary big.

Despite facing the other way, this window also only showed the woods. Where was this place, seriously?

You studied the frame, and noticed it had none of those complicated locks. You were almost shaking with excitement, but soon stopped to take a breath.

What was going to happen to Yunho once you left? Was he going to be tortured endlessly for your wrongdoings? You didn’t even want to think about it.

No. If you got out, you could contact the police and make sure they found him and arrested these two. Your shaky hands reached out to the window. You knew it was pretty high up, but looking down, you saw that it would probably be possible to climb your way down without falling. Well, probably.

You hadn’t noticed the music having stopped playing, too focused on your desperate need to get out, so you didn’t notice the silent footsteps behind you either, as you twisted the handle, getting ready to get yourself out.

Your breath caught in your throat when a large hand covered yours, twisting back the handle harshly, and twisting your wrist in the process, almost making you squeal from the pain. Another hand landed over your mouth, and you felt your body getting pulled into a large chest, arms not wavering despite your constant squirming.

“Shh, it’s me,” a voice whispered. Your head jolted back to find the source. Yunho.

Your eyes widened in confusion. “Please, it’ll just make things easier if you—“

“Well well,” another voice said, making both of your heads snap towards the two men standing in the doorway. Hongjoong stood in front of Seonghwa, whose eyes almost held a sad, betrayed expression. Hongjoong’s eyes however, only made you want to hide away in fear, close your eyes and flee from the reality of the situation. They were filled with pure rage, while his mouth still held an amused smile. As if he enjoyed being this angry.

Yunho’s hands immediately left your body before he took a long step away from you. You glanced at him and felt even more scared now that you had no one to lean on. Hongjoong’s gaze was only fixated on you.

“What an interesting little scene we’ve happened to walk in on, hm?” he said, clearly directing towards Seonghwa, even with his eyes plastered on you. You looked over to Yunho for any kind of ‘help’, but he looked down at the wooden floor instead, avoiding any sort of contact.

Hongjoong gently led Seonghwa into the room before harshly slamming the door behind him, locking it shortly after.

You felt your entire body shake, even though you were well clothed. Beside you, you heard Yunho’s quick breaths, not doing anything to calm you down.

Hongjoong took a few strides towards the two of you, Seonghwa still standing by the door. Now, your eyes had also found the floor, not daring to look anywhere else.

Hongjoong’s feet came into your field of view, and you almost closed your eyes to somewhat brace yourself for what was to come. You lowered your head further, but nothing came. Hongjoong soon walked over to the man standing next to you. Only now did you manage to look up, fearing for Yunho’s life almost, even though it felt as if he had just prevented you from getting yours back.

He had also elevated his gaze, and looked Hongjoong right in the eyes. You wondered how he even dared to.

“What did you do?”

“I prevented her from leaving.”

You felt your bottom lip shivering at their stark and unforgiving voices. In the corner of your eye you spotted Seonghwa, having now sat down on the large bed, silently watching the situation unfold.

“And why did you do that?”

A silence filled the room. You swallowed.

“Because she…”

Yunho’s voice started wavering slightly.

“Because she what?” Hongjoong asked, eyes wider than you had ever seen them before.

“Because she belongs here.”

You shook your head slightly at the words exiting Yunho’s mouth. The shuddering breath leaving your mouth was probably heard by everyone in the room, although no one looked your way.

“That’s right,” Hongjoong praised, his voice suddenly laced with a sort of patronizing and honeyed tone. His hands raised towards Yunho’s head, and you almost darted towards them, but then you noticed the hand’s intent.

Hongjoong’s fingers gently combed through Yunho’s dark locks, pulling it back to reveal his face. With both of his hands tangled in the taller man’s hair, he pulled his head down slightly before letting their lips collide.

You looked at the floor again, and saw the tear falling from your eye to the floor, leaving a small darkened pool on the wood.

“I’m so proud of you,” Hongjoong whispered, but everyone could hear it. “My good boy.”

A quiet sob left your mouth against your will, and even when you kept your eyes on the floor, you could see Hongjoong’s head snapping in your direction. Before you could even react, his hand met your head before slamming it against the wall.

The shock almost outweighed the pain, but after a few seconds, you could feel the aching pounding in your head after the impact.

His fingers found your hair before he pulled you away from the wall harshly, almost causing you to fall. You let out a loud sob at the pain, but soon, a hand was slapped over your mouth. Hongjoong pushed you against the wall once again, this time facing you with his hand over your mouth.

“You,” he said, his voice significantly deeper now. That tone he had just used towards Yunho was long gone. “You ungrateful little brat!”

He slammed you against the wall again, your head taking yet another hit. “Did you really think I left an unguarded and unlocked window so easily accessible to you?” he laughed heartily, while still staring at you with such anger.

“Did you really think that I would just let you escape!?” his tone only got louder and louder, making your legs almost give out from the fear itself.

His hand left your mouth, and you couldn’t even hold back the scream that left you, the pain in your head only growing by the second.

“Shut up!” he yelled, slapping you across the face. You had to admit, the pain from the slap was nothing compared to your head right now, but it was the force of it that made you lose your footing.

You fell to the floor, body slightly leaned against the wall. “What would you have done if you got out, hm? Do you think you would be able to find your way back home!?” he was full on screaming at this point.

“And when you got home, who would be waiting for you? hm? Your parents?” the volume in his voice decreased as he got closer to you, leaning down to talk to you with a low tone.

“They’re glad you’re gone, Y/n. The only person who’ll ever miss you is that pathetic friend of yours, Wooyoung.”

Your eyes widened at the name, your head perking up to meet Hongjoong’s gaze. “Oh! Did you think I didn’t know about your little friend? Your only friend? Oh, it’s okay,” he cooed, looking at your contorted face as you continued sobbing as quietly as you could. “He doesn’t miss you too much.”

In your enraged state, you gained a newfound energy, and raised your leg from where you lay to kick Hongjoong in the stomach. When you expected impact, he managed to dodge your little attack, and backed away from your frustrated self. You let out another weak scream at the pain in your head, your surroundings starting to become blurry.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong signaled, and without needing another word to be said, he walked over to Yunho, who had not moved an inch, and led him out of the room, later locking the door behind him. Of course, all the doors needed keys on both sides, this room being no exception.

Just as you felt yourself starting to doze off into unconsciousness, you got kicked in the stomach. You grunted loudly at the sudden pain.

“Oh no no,” Hongjoong said, his voice back to that sweetened, manipulative tone you hated. “I’m far from done with you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Yunho looked down at his plate of food, not daring to ask any questions. Hongjoong had put on another jazz record he loved, as he happily ate the dinner him and Seonghwa had prepared together. Yunho had watched as they romantically cooked together, kissing each other and acting like a normal couple.

It had been five hours since Hongjoong locked you in the master bedroom.

Hongjoong seemed happier than ever, pinching Seonghwa’s cheek and blinking cutely at Yunho ever so often. While Hongjoong and Seonghwa sat next to each other on the square table, Yunho sat next to an empty spot. The one meant to be occupied by you.

Yunho didn’t know what to think. He didn’t dare think the worst.

Hongjoong had spent hours in that room with you, and ever since that door was locked, Yunho and Seonghwa had to hang out on the bottom floor. Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s bedroom had great isolation, so there was no way of knowing what was going on, but from the sight of Hongjoong’s reddened knuckles, it didn’t seem to be beautiful.

“Aren’t you going to eat, honey?” Seonghwa asked. Yunho looked up at him, offering a small smile. “Sorry I’m not that hungry…”

Seonghwa pouted slightly, and looked over at Hongjoong with a confused face when the shorter man started laughing.

He was continually eyed by the other two when he kept laughing loudly. “Oh Yunho,” he said.

Yunho blinked in confusion. “I can see right through you, y’know?” he laughed. Yunho’s eyes widened.

“I know you’re worried sick about her,” Hongjoong sang, smiling widely. Yunho looked away. “Nothing to be shy about, hey,” Hongjoong comforted, reaching over the table to take Yunho’s hand in his.

“Don’t worry about her. She had it coming,” Hongjoong giggled. Yunho couldn’t even muster a fake smile at the comment. Neither could Seonghwa.

“How long are you planning on?…” Yunho trailed off. Seonghwa gave him a sharp glance.

“You’re asking too many questions,” Seonghwa stated. Yunho looked down in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Until she’s learned her lesson.”

Yunho looked up. He knew that was the worst answers Hongjoong could’ve provided, but the smile never left Hongjoong’s lips as he uttered those words.

my masterlist

hope you guys enjoyed!!! It was about time I posted a new chapter and I have this newfound flow right now so I’m already halfway done with chapter 9!

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.9 K Warnings: None Prompt: Slug Party goes awry... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 36: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

December, 21st, 1976

Remus wasn’t sure what he should wear to the party. He had sent a letter to his parents telling them about the invitation. He had omitted it had been you who invited him rather than Slughorn, and his father seemed pretty thrilled about his son being a member of the Slug club. 

Lyall wasn’t the kind of parent to be strict with his child’s grades, not in a literal sense at least, regardless he would very often tell Remus how important it was that he was among the best, and that being able to study magic at Hogwarts had been a privilege to him. That it only happened because of how lucky he’d gotten, and that he should be thankful to Dumbledore for giving him the opportunity and that the best way of proving his gratitude would be to be exceptionally good at his studies. 

Especially because, when he eventually joined the Registry of Magical Creatures, the only thing he’d have to prove his worth as a wizard would be his academic achievements. If Remus did badly in his studies, his father wouldn’t be angry, rather he’d be disappointed, and Remus hated disappointing people. So while there wasn’t actually a pressure put on his shoulder by his father, there was a pressure set by himself, one to make sure he’d keep his father content and proud. 

In the end, his father had only cornered Remus into pressuring himself. Of course, Lyall didn’t know this, nor did Hope, they thought their child was perfect just because he was, while Remus sometimes felt the need to put an extra effort to fulfil their expectations. Everyone’s expectations. Sometimes he wished he could be more like Sirius, careless and loud but he couldn’t give himself such a luxury, perhaps that’s why he was so attracted to him.

At least it wasn’t that hard, Remus was already clever and being friends with the other Marauders and Lily had helped him to strengthen his abilities from the very beginning, making him a better wizard than he ever would have been without them. And recently, you as well, you were making him a better wizard too, even if he always felt awfully selfish for wanting you, and your godric-damned gorgeous boyfriend.

Remus was still rummaging through his trunk trying to find something nice. His father had told him that he had to wear something elegant, preferably his suit, but Remus had no idea where the hell he had placed it. Hope, on the other hand, had written to tell him that he should pay his father no mind and that those silly elitist wizard parties –which she had concluded was what they were (accurately) after Lyall told her about them– shouldn’t be worrying him too much. She did ask him who he’d be inviting, and he had responded he’d be going with you. 

Lyall and Hope already knew about you, they knew you had arrived at school and Remus had mentioned that you had become close. Hope had mentioned at some point that he should ask you on a date, but Remus responded to her letter by telling her you were going out with Sirius, which Hope didn’t seem to understand. Especially when some of the things Remus had described in his letters were the kinds of things a girl who was very much in love with her son would do. Of course, Hope knew nothing more than the few things that Remus had said in his letters, about how kind you were, how funny you were, and how you were an incredibly talented witch. And yet, somehow she clearly knew better than all of you combined. 

Now, Hope knew how close Remus was to Sirius and she was not about to tell him to pursue you, but she definitely expected to have a small chat with him once they met again in New Year. Remus had chosen to stay at Hogwarts during Christmas, to recover after the moon. She wasn’t too happy about that, she’d much prefer having her son with her during the moon, but Lyall insisted that Remus wasn’t the small wolf she had taken care of in the past, though still incredibly dangerous, the wolf had been a lot easier to control. 

Besides, Remus much preferred staying at Hogwarts now, the Shrieking Shack, even if still a cage, was much bigger than the small silver-coated cage they had at home, which while absolutely safe, was also incredibly painful for Moony, and caused much more desperate clawing from the wolf which in turn, left Remus a lot worse off. 

“What’s with the sour face?” James asked when he spotted Remus kneeling on the floor looking defeated. 

The boy huffed in response, “I can’t find the fucking suit.” 

“You’re going with a suit?” 

“You’re not?!” 

“Should I?” 

“Of course! It’s a Christmas Party, James!” 

“You think Lily will wear an elegant dress?” He asked, “Oh I should ask what colour it is so I can match with her.” 

Remus almost rolled his eyes as he leaned down and started looking through his trunk again, “Vixen might not be here, but even I can tell you how much of a terrible idea that is…” 

“It’s a grand gesture, mate! You don’t understand romance.” 

“I’ve had more dates than you ever have,” Remus defended. 

“And yet… you’ve never had a girlfriend. Because you don’t do grand gestures.” 

Remus huffed again, sure next time he’ll match Sirius’s fucking outfit and hope he does not get punched in the face. He wasn’t sure if Sirius or you would be the one to throw fists first thought. He kept moving things around on his trunk before sitting back with an annoyed sigh. “No fucking suit.” 

“I can lend you something,” James said with a shrug and pulled out a dark blue pair of pants, waistcoat and matching long gown. “Just find a shirt and tie that matches,” the boy said with a shrug. 

“You think these will fit?” Remus asked as he gave them a weary look. 

“You can charm them to fit better if you want,” James said with a shrug. Remus kept looking at them wearily but nodded and placed them on his bed. 

Sirius, who had been off somewhere, appeared shortly after Remus stepped out of the showers, and James got in.

“You ready?” he asked, even if he could clearly see Remus still had a towel slung across his waist. 

“Yeah, I was planning to go like this and moon everyone when it was time to dance,” Remus replied sarcastically, he was a little touchy. Probably because of how close the moon was and because of how much time he had wasted trying to find something to wear. 

“Ugh Pissy Moony,” Sirus said with a grimace as he sat on Remus’ bed and took a look at James’ suit. He easily figured James had borrowed it and felt a pang of jealousy over the fact that Remus would ask James for help instead of him. Or perhaps it was because Moony would wear James’ clothes instead of something from him. Then again, it was a dumb thing to be jealous about, Sirius’ tailored clothes wouldn’t fit Remus at all. Sirius was shorter and skinnier. Still, he wasn’t too happy about it, he realised as he passed his hand over the soft blue fabric. “What will you be wearing with this?”

Remus shrugged in response, “White shirt, some tie that matches I guess.” 

Sirius didn’t seem convinced, “I’ll find you something,” he said as he kneeled down next to the boy’s dresser and started looking through his drawers. 

“Sirius,” Remus called, but he was too focused on the dresser to realise. “Sirius!” He repeated, a little louder this time. 

Sirius just hummed in response, turning his head to look at the other boy as he leaned back a little, a casual thing Sirius would do rather often that made Remus gulp, he looked beautiful, as fucking always. Remus had been about to tell the boy that he should mind his own fucking business, but there was no way to tell him that now. 

“Just… pass me my briefs, will you?” 

Sirius, without even turning, pulled the top left drawer, grabbed a pair and threw it back to Remus “There you go,” he said simply and went back to looking through Remus’ stuff. Remus sighed and continued getting dressed, passing the briefs under the towel before taking it off. “What do you think Starshine will wear?” 

The other boy shrugged, “A dress or something I suppose, she knows a good deal of magic etiquette.” 

“Bet she’ll look hot.” 

Remus didn’t respond to that, it wasn’t like he could just agree with Sirius out loud, “She’ll dress nicely I assume.” 

“Oh, this is great!” Sirius said as he pulled out a dark navy shirt, just slightly lighter than the suit James had borrowed. 

“So dark?” Remus asked as he leaned over, he was already wearing the pants James had borrowed, they were a little tight but they fit him well, Sirius noticed. 

“Yeah! This shirt looks dashing on you mate! It’s the one you wore to the Christmas Party last year.” 

Remus did not remember that fact out of the bat, so he had to think back and try to remember exactly what he had worn that day at the Potters. They had sneaked out some alcohol from Monty’s collection –Monty knew, but pretended not to notice– and then they had all sneaked into James’ room and drank until they were too pissed to remember much of the rest of the night.

Sirius, on the other hand, remembered the exact outfit Remus had worn, first because he thought Remus looked incredible with that shirt and wondered why he didn't wear it more often, and second, because when Peter had dared Remus to take off his shirt, he had complied, and Sirius had found it at some point and used it as his pillow for the rest of the night. He thought it also smelled nice. 

“I guess you’re right,” Remus said with a small frown, still trying to remember the shirt as Sirius stood and placed it on the bed, passing his wand over it with a quick straightening spell to make it look as neat as he remembered it had looked on Remus. It was then that Sirius started thinking of the fact that, while he clearly remembered what Remus had worn perfectly, he couldn’t quite recall what either Peter or James had been wearing. 

“Done,” Sirius said once he placed his wand back in his pocket and gently passed the unbuttoned shirt to Remus, stepping back when he realised he was about to help him button it. 

“Thanks, mate,” Remus said and grabbed the shirt to put it on. Sirius sat back down on Remus’ bed as his friend finished getting his shirt on. And then passed him the waistcoat. Sirius realised, almost a little too late, that he was most definitely checking Remus out while he did. “Does it look bad?” 

“What? No, why?” Sirius said, a little caught off guard. 

“You’ve been staring?” 

Have I? Fuck I have. “Just thinking of what tie you can wear with it,” Sirius said, hoping it was convincing enough.

“Oh,” Remus replied simply as he pulled the coat on, while it was on the tighter side, it wasn’t uncomfortably so, and the colour did nicely suit him. He was about to ask Sirius if he thought you’d like it and realised what a terrible idea that was, so he just shut his mouth. “Which tie?” 

Sirius seemed to be taken aback by the question but then nodded and went to his trunk. He was sure to have some ties somewhere, he did not remember taking them out before the whole chaos at home and his trunk had ended up being delivered to the Potters along with a note that said that he was a bIood traitor and that he was no longer welcomed at home. It was a house though, that had never been his home. 

Sirius kept looking until he found a thick tie that shifted in colour as he took it from his trunk. First, it was blue, then it was brown, and then it was something between burgundy and purple. Remus raised one of his eyebrows “A magic tie?” 

Sirius shrugged, “It’ll match your outfit… or Starshine’s, sometimes she’s whimsical like that?” 

“Your girlfriend?” 

“The tie,” Sirius clarified. 

Remus groaned, “James is so gonna tease me about it,” he said as he placed his hand over his head. Sirius approached him and slid the tie across his friend’s neck, carefully raising the collar and letting his fingers brush over Remus’ neck only for a second before going back to his thing. He tried not to think of the shiver he felt from how warm Remus was. Had touching him always felt like that? “I know how to tie a tie,” Remus said as he observed Sirius. The shorter boy was deeply focused on his task. 

“Yeah, but you don’t have a clue how to do an Eldredge Knot, do you?” 

Remus scoffed, while he had no idea what an Eldredge Knot looked like, let alone how to do it, he was also a little offended that Sirius would just assume he didn’t.  “Well maybe I do,” he said as he grabbed onto the tie, his hands over Sirius’ as he tried to shake him away, but the boy didn’t budge. The way Remus’ hands wrapped around his made him think of yours, and then compare, his were larger, they felt nice around his own. 

But Sirius was really trying not to focus on said things. “Come on Moons, let me help,” he said simply, looking up at Remus’ eyes. He could see Sirius’ thick black lashes and he fought hard not to gulp from how close they were. 

“Whatever,” Remus said as he took his hands from Sirius and let them fall on his side, placing them on his pockets right after since he had no idea what to do with them. Sirius continued his task, while Remus tried to look anywhere but at him, at his slightly furrowed brows, and his cute little mouth with his lips pressed in a thin line as he breathed slowly. Why did he have to go and be so ridiculously pretty? Remus wondered as he gave him a short glance and then looked away again. Sirius was taking a hell of a lot of time with his damned tie. “You done?” 

“Chist,” Sirius shushed him as he continued trying to focus, it was way easier when you did it to yourself than when you did it backwards. Remus started to slowly tap his foot, yet another way to distract him from how close Sirius stood. Close enough to feel his warm breath fan against his neck. 

“Hey Sirius…” The other boy hummed in response. “Thanks…”  

“’S what friends are for,” Sirius said simply, hands tightening the knot as he pulled back just a little to look at Moony. His gaze quickly forgetting the tie and focusing on his friend’s face. On his chocolaty brown eyes that looked a lot more golden today than normal. The moon was close, after all. Regardless, it was a good look on Remus. Sirius smiled, “You look handsome,” he said honestly, it rolled so naturally off his tongue, he was almost surprised he hadn’t said it to Remus more often. 

A blush started to creep up Remus’ neck when the door of their room opened, his head snapped to it and you stood there, looking at the two boys with a small smile. The two of them looking back at you. You had your hair down and wore a white, iridescent dress with lace on top, a turtle neck and a long-sleeved top that flared down at the bottom into a puffy skirt and fell down just before your ankles. You had a matching pair of shoes. The lace was delicate and had a star on the left shoulder and some other wind and sky motifs all around.

You looked like… the moon. Except Remus had never thought of the moon as pretty before. 

Sirius looked at you with a smile “Claire de Lune,” Sirius said affectionately. Remus didn’t even feel jealous at the way the other boy was looking at you, in fact, he was rather thankful Sirius was so focused on you and wasn’t paying attention to him or the way he was looking at you. 

You smiled at Sirius praising, “Thought I was Starshine,” you teased with a smile, twirling around and letting the dress flow, the iridescence being a lot more evident. “Comet helped me charm it,” you explained, “kind of like her dress at the Halloween party.” 

Remus’ tie had already become the same shade of iridescent white. “You look delightful, I’m almost jealous it’ll be Moony the one to parade you around instead of me,” Sirius said as he walked closer to you, placing his hand on yours and twirling you around once more. You laughed but let him have his fun, especially since he wasn’t going to go to the party. Remus stared at the two of you dancing around to no music and smiled, James came out of the bathroom all dressed up shortly after. 

“Looking great Moony,” he said when he spotted Remus, “you too Vix.” 

“Thanks,” you said while Sirius stopped the dancing to look at James reproachfully. 

“Way to leave your handsomest friend out.” 

“You’re not dressed up,” James said simply, “You look exactly the same as every day… maybe a little scruffy,” James added with a smirk, he knew he’d piss Sirius off. “Hair’s a little messy,” he added as he pointed at his head. 

Sirius gasped and was about to respond when you took his face in your hands and dragged him to look at you, pulling one stray hair and placing it back on its spot “Well, I think you look handsome.” 

“She’s lying to make you feel better,” James insisted. 

“I’ll get Lily to hex you, James,” you warned, the messy-haired boy took a step back, as if genuinely scared of your friendly threat.

Sirius gave you a small satisfied smile before leaning in to steal a short kiss from your lips. 

“Ugh, get a room!” James complained. 

“Find a different place to change,” Sirius retorted as he leaned again to kiss you again, partly because he could never get enough of you, partly because your lips helped him forget the weird feeling he was getting whenever he was around Remus alone and partly to spite James. “Moony doesn’t mind, right Moons?” 

Remus really tried not to choke at that, “Not at all,” he managed to say. 

“See, it only is a you problem,” Sirius said with a shrug. “I won’t be telling you to get a room whenever you bring Lily over to snog.” 

“We’ve never snogged here though,” you clarified. Sirius gave James an exaggerated wink and you elbowed him when you realised. Remus couldn’t help but laugh at your dynamic. 

“Ready, Little Witch?” he asked politely. 

You turned to him with a smile, same smile you had when you were looking at Sirius, only now being less entertained by your boyfriend and noticing how handsome your friend looked. “When you are,” you said simply.  Remus walked closer to you and tilted his head, an invitation for you to follow behind him. 

“I want her back before 12,” Sirius joked pointing at Remus.

You laughed before Remus had the chance to say anything “Sure thing, and I want you to stay out of trouble for a whole week, but neither of us will get what we wish, will we?” 

“I could stay out of trouble for a week!” Sirius scoffed, slightly offended. 

You raised your eyebrows at that statement and eyed Remus. “Has he ever?” 

Remus shook his head , lips pressed tightly before he added, “Nope.” 

“Remus!” Sirius whined. 

“Just stating the facts,” Remus replied with a shrug, a diverted shine in his eyes as he stared at his beautiful best friend.  

“Ugh! Stop flirting, you’re all making me feel lonelier,” James said as he threw a pillow at the three of you. 

“Oi!” you said as you straightened your clothes. “You’ll ruin my dress…” you added with a frown. 

“Yeah James, stop messing with her. How would you feel if I go around throwing pillows at Evans,” Sirius defended. 

“She’d hex you,” James responded with a shrug. 

“Perhaps I should hex you,” you said under your breath while Remus laughed. “You’re lucky we’re friends.”

James threw a wink your way and you grumbled something about throwing him off his broom. Sirius took the fact that you were busy still straightening your clothes to pick a piece of pillow fluff that had fallen on Remus’ coat. The boy straightened slightly at the way Sirius closed the gap between the two of them. “What?” he asked, looking at Sirius almost warily, he didn’t want to admit the way his heart would race at Sirius so much as stepping into his personal space like that. 

The shorter boy just grabbed the fluff and showed it to Remus, moving his hand from side to side before blowing it away. You finally lifted your head, almost curiously looking at the way Remus was staring at Sirius, and then at the way Sirius was staring back. You tilted your head, it was oddly familiar, but you just couldn’t quite pinpoint why. You narrowed your eyes at the two, the connections in your brain happening at lightning speed only to be interrupted by an urgent knock on the door, everyone turned their heads towards it and then at each other as if wondering if they had invited anyone over. 

“James! We’re gonna be late,” Lily’s voice said from the other side of the door. You walked over and opened the door, letting her in. 

“Oh, hey luv, I’ve actually brought this over for you, thought it would go with your dress,” She said as she handed over the moon and star ring your mom had given you a while ago, Remus took a step back, looking at Lily almost offended. She was wearing a green dress that looked delightful with her hair, James pretty much gaped at her as she was putting on a pair of jade earrings that matched the dress, not even noticing the way he was staring.

“Shut your mouth mate, you’ll get lacewing flies,” Sirius teased. Lily, who had not noticed James staring turned almost as red as her hair as she turned to look at James and their eyes locked for a second. 

“I’ve seen you gape at Vixen way more times than I can count…” James started to complain.

You weren’t listening anymore, their bickering fading into the background when you took the ring from your palm and placed it on your finger, only then realising that Remus was looking to the side rather dejected, “You’re…” he fucking hated having to ask, “you’re not actually gonna wear that, right?” 

You turned to him slightly confused at first and then smiled, something akin to a smirk, and extended your hand towards him “Give me your hand.” Remus tilted his head to the side reproachfully, trying to tell you that of course he fucking couldn’t, even if he wanted to, without having to say “I’m a werewolf, I can’t” out loud. 

Even then you kept your hand up, “Trust me,” you added confidently. Remus seemed hesitant but did as told, tentatively placing his fingers over yours, avoiding touching the ring entirely. It was merely a brush of his fingers over your hand, and he was about ready to pull away when you pushed your hand forwards and yanked his, grabbing firmly onto it. He tried to pull back, wincing, as if ready to feel the stinging of the metal, eyes closed and a deep frown etched on his face. And then, it cleared, slowly as he eyed you, then both of your hands, his brows furrowing again, this time it was softer, his eyes were searching, turning both of your hands around as if to make sure it was the same ring. 

When he was sure it was, he dug his fingers closer to yours, feeling the ring from the back and then bringing in his other hand, brushing over your knuckles before letting them fall over the ring. “We transfigured it,” you said proudly. “I asked Lily and Pete to help me, since both Sirius and I had hurt you with it, I thought it was the right thing to do. Took us weeks to get it right.” 

“Weeks…” Remus repeated, still fascinated over the fact that he could touch the ring, or perhaps he was fascinated more by the way your small hand looked next to his. Of course, he had held your hand before, but it had always been in situations in which it was either dark, you were running, or you had something else to pay attention to, never had Remus actually seen it. So much smaller in comparison to his, so much softer and smoother. There was a bit of hardened skin near your thumb from how hard you gripped your quill sometimes and there were also fading broom marks in the top part of your palm, whatever potion Sirius had given you was erasing them quickly. 

You nodded, also paying attention to the way your hands looked next to each other. Sirius’ hands were large, perhaps as large as Remus’, but there was something about the way Remus held your hands, almost venerating, that made you just as curious as it seemed to make him, of course, you assumed he was just fascinated by the fact that he could touch the ring now. “It’s stainless steel,” you explained, “absolutely harmless, like the charm on the necklace Peter made,” you added with another prideful smile. 

He smiled almost shyly and felt silly at the fact that he had been worried before, of course, you’d never do anything that could hurt him (at least consciously), in fact, he now noticed that he hadn’t seen you wear the ring since that time at the infirmary when you had discovered he was a werewolf, he’d just assumed Sirius hadn’t given it back yet. 

“Oh, he’s seen the ring?” Sirius asked, only now finishing his bickering with James and leaning his chin on your shoulder as he stared at Remus’ hands holding yours, he thought it looked right. “I take it, it worked?” 

You nodded and hummed in reply, beaming proudly at your achievement, “He knew?” breaking his sight away from your hands and looking straight at Sirius. He looked unfairly adorable, the two of you did. Remus still didn’t remove his hands from yours, perhaps he was pushing it, but he didn’t care much if he was, he didn’t want to stop holding you. If Sirius could have his hands on your waist and his head perched on your shoulder, he could at least have your hand. He would be your date tonight either way. 

Only because Sirius didn’t want to go, a pesky little voice reminded him. 

But then again, Sirius would never pass up the opportunity to rub it on people’s faces that he was with you, let alone with the sight you were in that dress. Why was it he didn’t want to go again? He’d have to ask you later. 

“Sirius helped me swipe the metal transfiguration book from the restricted section,” you said with a smile, “he thought it was a brilliant idea when I told him about it, and that it could also help me practise transfiguration, it was the same Peter had used. Lily helped me confirm it wasn’t silver anymore with muggle science. Something about dension or something.”

“Density luv, we used Archimedes' principle,” she said before going back to her chat with James. 

“Muggle magic,” you said with a shrug, “Lily taught me the formulas to make the equations, but she always checked to make sure I was doing it correctly.” 

“So many muggle words in one sentence,” Sirius said as he shook his head and huffed. 

“You learned algebra and physics for this?” Remus asked, almost laughing as he pulled your hand up to show your ring. 

Sirius huffed, “Of course, Moony would know exactly what you were talking about.” 

“Mum taught me a lot of muggle stuff, they didn’t think I’d be allowed in Hogwarts,” Remus said, almost as a throw-off comment. “You bunch of purebloods would obviously have no idea what they are. Especially physics, since what we do here destroys most of their principles.” 

“Prove A, I changed the material of the ring,” you said with a smile. “Still, it was useful, we should be taught more muggle stuff…. Although, I do think that muggle ironsmith from your story could have used a good transfiguration spell.”

“You told her the story?” Remus asked with a frown, still holding your hand, though he was letting it hang a little more. 

“Of course, I told her the story! Last time I said eureka she was looking at me like I had just made up a word.” 

“Sounds like a spell,” Sirius said with a simple shrug and took his wand out, “do you think–” 

“NO!” Remus, Lily and you, all said at the same time. Remus had finally let go of your hand, raising both of his as a warning. 

Sirius seemed taken aback. “I tried it,” you explained, turning your face to him slightly. “Almost blew up our dorm.” The way his hair tickled your cheek felt oddly nice. 

“It’s Ancient Greek, it could mean anything,” Remus said with a shrug, “Not a great idea to infuse it with magic if you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

“You never told me about almost blowing up your room,” Sirius said with a raised eyebrow.

“We had it under control,” you responded with a shrug, “thought it’d be a funny story for another time.” 

“Pads, are you done hogging your girlfriend? We’ve got a party to attend to…” Prongs teased. 

“Go snog Lily and leave us alone,” Sirius said with a pout as he tightened his grip on your waist, fuck he looked adorable, the two of you did, Remus thought it really wasn’t fucking fair. 

“No one is snogging anyone here,” Lily said, almost scandalised. James pouted at her and she swatted him lightly. 

“Speak for yourself,” Sirius said as he pursed his lips your way in a rather exaggerated manner. You were laughing as you playfully tried to push him away. Remus sighed as he looked at the two, first wishing he was you, to be the one that Sirius tried to kiss, and then wishing he was Sirius, the one who had permission to hold you so tight and place kisses all over your face. 

Eventually, he tore his eyes from the two of you and eyed his watch, “We’ll be late. I may not know much about pure bIood and customs or whatever, but I’m sure being on time is important.” 

“Unless you’re fashionably late,” Sirius said, pressing one last kiss to your cheek and taking a step back, still keeping his hands on your shoulders. 

“There is no such thing,” you said, turning to Sirius. 

“Oh, there isn’t?” He asked with a smirk, almost innocently as he took a few steps back, “must have heard Walburga wrong when she was talking about it.” After he spoke, he allowed himself to fall on Remus’ bed again. It was the closest bed, but that wasn’t the reason. Sirius didn’t know why he would let himself lie on his friend’s bed instead of his, but sometimes it just felt warmer, and a lot more welcoming. Besides, it smelled rather nice.

Remus shook his head with a small smile, looking at Sirius diverted before turning his head back to you. You smiled at him and nodded towards the door, “Let’s get going.” 

As you walked to the door, Sirius raised his head a little to give you one last look “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He said as he pointed at Sirius. 

You laughed “There isn’t much you wouldn’t do.” 

Lily, James, Remus and you arrived at the party shortly after, you hadn’t rushed much, since really it wasn’t that late, and even if you were happy to attend the party, you did not want to be the first people to arrive. 

They had used a room of the castle that you weren’t sure you’d ever visited. There were curtains draped all over the place, making the room look like the luxurious tent of an Arabian prince and you peeked your head inside before crossing the door, Remus followed behind. Lily and James walked next to each other and one of the waiters who you identified as Johnny Ackley stopped them in their tracks.

“You must kiss,” he said looking at your friends as he extended a silver tray your way. You leaned in and hovered your hand over one of the treats as Lily looked at him puzzled. “You stepped under the mistletoe,” he said simply, “It’s tradition.” 

“What?” Lily asked, a little shocked.

You eyed Remus, a devilish smile drawing on your lips as you pulled your hand slightly back from the treats and looked at your friends, “Oh yes, very important wizarding tradition, isn’t it Rem?” 

Remus held back his amused look as best as he could and nodded, “Definitely,” he agreed. 

Lily looked at you with pleading eyes and you gave her a wink. You knew she had enjoyed kissing James, she had told you how she’d done it on their date and also how she had “almost snogged” James a few nights ago. Now you weren’t sure what exactly Lily meant by “almost”, but you knew she had kissed James several times. And you also knew James would probably love the opportunity to kiss her in front of everyone. Were you being a better friend to James than you were to Lily at that moment? Maybe, but that didn’t stop you from adding a simple, “I’m sorry Lils, it’s part of the party traditions.” 

She narrowed her eyes at you and you just nodded with the same devilish smile as earlier. She huffed, defeated by the three of you, and placed her hand on James’ shoulder, who seemed just slightly surprised she’d actually go through with it. James had never kissed Lily in public, in fact, he wasn’t even sure people knew they were going out, outside of your very close friend group. Still, he leaned down at Lily’s command. And he calls Sirius a lap dog, Remus thought with a smile. Seeing James finally happy with Lily was oddly satisfying, probably what he should feel when he saw Sirius with you, but just couldn’t.

Eventually, they both kissed, a small peck at first but James leaned closer and placed his hand on Lily’s waist, while she took his head in her hands. You gave Rem a rather impressed look, and grabbed onto one of the treats. “I wouldn’t take that one,” Ackley said, “gives bad breath.” 

You narrowed your eyes and hovered over your hand on top of a different one, he shook his head, as if he knew something of that one in particular that you didn’t. You hovered your hand to a different-looking one and he nodded. You smiled and winked at him as you grabbed it, “What does this one do?” you asked as you leaned closer to him.

“It’s one of three that don’t have prank potions, and it’s actually tasty.” 

“Oh, so you’re here only to cause trouble?” you asked with a smile.

“I’m always around to cause trouble,” he responded, gave you a courteous look, and went somewhere else. 

You noticed Remus lean over, as if he too wanted one of the treats, but Ackley had already left, so you leaned closer to him. “Want some?” you asked as you raised your hand. 

“Well- I…” 

You gently leaned your hand towards his mouth, “It’s good, no potions or tricks,” you said, “At least according to Johnny.” 

He raised a questioning eyebrow at that but opened his mouth either way. You were halfway feeding him when you heard someone clear their throat rather loudly from behind Lily and James. You gave Remus a look and the two of you turned to look that way, the little treat still in your hand. 

“Would you mind snogging at a different place?” You heard Severus say in his infuriatingly slow voice as he pretty much pushed his way past James, who stumbled forward into Lily. Severus scoffed, and you stared daggers his way. 

“Mind your own damn business and leave the young couple alone,” you said stepping in front of him, “there was mistletoe.”

He merely raised an eyebrow all toffee-nosed and snobbish, and then moved his gaze behind you, noticing Remus holding his stance just a couple of steps back “Oh, so you left the wayward boyfriend at home and brought in the dangerous one instead.” 

You clenched your teeth at that, not because he implied Remus was your boyfriend, which had definitely done something to the boy, but rather because he called him dangerous. “Snape, if you continue insulting my friends like that, you’ll learn who is actually dangerous between us,” you said as you took a few steps towards him. The slimy-headed boy was taller than you, even taller than Sirius, but you didn’t let that deter you. 

He held his stance “Is that a threat?” he asked as he coed his head. 

“It’s a fucking promise, Severus.” 

“I’m not scared of you.” 

“Well, you should be…” you added as you pulled back. 

“Go mind your own business, and leave us alone Snape,” Remus interceded in a rather conciliatory tone. 

“As if I wanted to hang out with mudbloods,” he looked at Lily, then nodded towards James and you, “BIood traitors and mixed-raced abominations,” he added the last bit looking straight at Moony. 

You missed the hurtful look in Lily’s eyes due to the shock after his first and second insult were used so casually, but it was the last bit that had your bIood boiling, instantly giving you the urge to hex him, hand itching to get to your wand, but you somehow managed to hold back and use your tongue instead of your magic to fight back; after all fae were known for their sharp as knife words. 

“The only thing that’s abominating here is your disgusting greasy hair, Severus. Do you even know what shampoo is?” He gave you a hateful look. And that’s when you threw the real jab– you scoffed with a despicable sneer and added, “To think you wanted Lily to like you back. Bet she wouldn’t go out with you even if you were the last person on earth.” 

Severus seemed to be taken aback by that, and Lily, who had been watching the whole scene with James after they managed to sort themselves out reacted, turning to you with a gasp, “(Y/N)!”. James tightened his grip on her shoulder reassuringly. 

“Am I lying?” you said simply as you turned to her. 

She gave you a pleading look, still trying to deal with the fact that Severus had called her a Mudblood again and the fact that her noble heart couldn’t quite let go of the friendship she had once shared with him, Lily didn’t want to hurt him either,  “I– well I…” 

You nodded, “There’s your answer,” you added turning your head back at Severus with a satisfied expression, he was looking at you coldly. “Go apparate somewhere where they actually want you.” And that last bit might have been overkill, “If such a place really exists.” 

“(Y/N)!” Lily said again. Severus took his wand out and pointed it at your face, completely riled up by your poisonous words. And she looked at him shocked “Severus!” she chided, trying to appease him.

You didn’t back up at all, and you didn’t motion to grab your wand either, just gave Severus the same look he’d given you earlier. Your head leaned back slightly, a daring look plastered all over your features. You heard Remus shift behind you, the boy was ready to push you out of the way if it was necessary. But then, something none of you would have ever expected happened. Evan Rosier walked over and placed his hand on Severus’ shoulder. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, but Rosier only pulled the other Slytherin and started to drag him away, “Come on Severus, Barty was looking for you,” he said as he took him away. 

You were about to respond to that when you felt Remus’ hand wrap around your arm, you turned your gaze to him and he gave you a simple warning look. 

“Yeah, listen to your perilous boyfriend little trollop,” Snape muttered loud enough for you to hear as he left, you snapped your head his way, jaw clenching, but Remus tightened his grip around your arm, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as he shook his head. You huffed, threw another hateful look his way but didn’t say more. 

Lily approached you with a rather hurt look “What the hell was that?” 

You were completely taken aback by that, “Pardon?” 

“You knew what you said would hurt him. And you used your words like weapons, he could have hexed you.” 

“I should have hexed him first,” you said and Lily gave you another reproachful look, “Lils he was being an asshole! Calling all of us those nasty things, you included!” 

Her face had that hurt look again, but she shook her head and focused her gaze on you again. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you have to stump to his level.” You let those words sink in, your eyes moving rapidly as you tried to process what she said, “it’s the most Slytherin thing I’ve ever seen you do. Did you even think how it might make me feel?” 

“I– I wasn’t… Lily, I would never–” 

“But you did,” she said, now looking more upset than angry, she shook her head with a huff and bit her tongue as if she knew she had probably used her own words like knives and had started to regret it after they came out of her mouth. “I’m going for some punch,” she added and walked towards the furthest wall. 

James looked at you, an apologetic expression on his face, “You okay Vix?” Remus placed his hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah I’m–” you cut yourself off, “you should go check on Lily.”

“But–” 

“She’s upset James, you heard what he called her. I can’t go after her but you should.” 

He leaned his head to the side, as if contemplating his options and then looked at Remus who nodded, James mirrored his actions and ran behind Lily. As you saw his messy hair disappear in between the curtains you let out a long sigh. 

Remus was looking at you and saw you shake your head as if you were contemplating whether to say something or not and then, you turned to him, “You still want some?” you said as you offered the treat still in your hands. He gave you a look, eyebrows raised. “What?” 

“You’re just going to pretend all that didn’t happen?” 

You swallowed, “I don’t want to talk about it…” you said as you avoided his gaze, he gave you some time, still looking at you and you sighed again, “Was I really that much of a Slytherin?” 

Remus sighed himself, “You’ve always had bite, I don’t think that makes you any less of a Gryffindor.” 

“But I upset her…” you said with a huff, “and the hat did consider me putting me in Slytherin, and you all say I’m cunning and–”

“Hey,” he said calmly, easily getting your attention, “Lily was upset–” 

“Because I upset her!” 

Remus gave you a look, “Lily was upset because Severus was being a prick. And then you said something that upset her even further. And while I do think you would have been brilliant Slytherin,“ your gaze fell, “that’s because I think you would have been brilliant in whichever house the hat put you in. You’re smart and loyal and cunning,” he said calmly, shaking your shoulder just enough for you to look at him “but you know what?” he leaned down to catch your gaze, “I’ve never met someone as stupidly brave as you.” You smiled, finally looking at him. “Well, perhaps James, but… we all know he’s a bit more stupid than he is brave,” he said the last bit in a whisper, sure that it would make you laugh. 

You smiled, “Oh Remus…” you added, dragging the e from his name, “I’ll keep those words stored in my brain to blackmail you one day,” you joked. 

“See, you would have thrived with the snakes,” he joked again and you punched him lightly, which just got him to laugh. Remus’ laugh was awfully contagious and you laughed alongside him.

“Still want some?” you asked as you raised the treat again. Remus huffed a laugh and nodded, opening his mouth again as you leaned the small snack to his face. He leaned forward just a little and gave it a bite, eating about half of it. 

“Mmm, it’s actually really good,” he said as he covered his mouth to speak. 

You shrugged and brought it to your own face, taking what he’d left and plopping it all in your mouth. You took a bit more time savouring it like he did, and then nodded, completely agreeing with him. Once you swallowed, you spoke again. “Delightful,” you said, “thought we should be careful with Ackley’s tray, he’s charmed a good deal of them.” And then you got an idea, “Actually…” 

Remus shook his head with a small, worried frown. “That’s your ‘I’ve got an idea’ face.” 

“Is it?” you asked with an innocent tone. 

“We’ll never get invited again if you cause havoc,” he whispered. 

“Oh Remus, we are not going to be the ones causing the havoc,” you said with a smirk. 

While Remus tried to be the reasonable one, he could not resist the way your lips curled up into a sly, very fox-like smile, nor could he resist the temptation that your eyes shone with. He had never been the biggest fan of religious tales, of temptation or whatnot. But if you were Eve, and you had been persuaded by the snake to take the forbidden fruit, and then you’d turned to him with that same look, he sure would have also forgotten all the rules any sort of god imposed on him and given the fruit a bite, not because of how tasty the forbidden fruit looked, but because of the way he might have expected to be looked at by you afterwards. He wouldn’t have just given it a bite, he would have gobbled it and then many more if that made you happy. Perhaps it was Moony more than Remus, but he thrived in the excitement of pleasing you, even if it was just this once. 

Yes, Remus always wanted approval and respect from Lyall, he wanted to make him proud, but he had never wanted to make anyone as proud as he wanted to make you feel at that particular moment. He had never felt that craving to satisfy someone else’s desires. Except perhaps, for every time Sirius gave him a similar look.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Some people were asking for a snow day chapter, and this felt about the perfect time for it. Love playing in the snow with the boys &lt;3 Upon some requests, we have a DISCORD server now and you can all join in and chat about marauders and/or GC with other lovely people. If you wanna discuss a new oneshot or even the new chapters of GC this is your place to go. The announcement for it is here and I'll leave links to it on a reblog of this post ad in the comments.

Read more Marauders Fiction

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily drabble

prompt: forehead kisses

(I’m trying some prompts out, and also - I wrote fluff! I actually did it! My cold, angsty heart is conflicted by this development.)

****

Wayne’s back feels like it’s splitting in two, muscles spasming, discs crunching. Years of hard labour and a car wreck after he came back from Korea (a little bit angry, a little bit reckless) and what else could he really expect? He was old, and all his chickens had come home to roost right in his lower vertebrae.

He hears the van before he sees it, wheels spitting up grit on the shitty excuse for a road, and then the bassy rumbling of loud music. Iron Maiden, if he’s not mistaken, and Jesus H Christ, he should not know that.

Eddie throws himself out of the van, and practically skips up the stairs, and oh to be fucking young. 

“Hey old man, what are you doing out here?”

“Drowning my sorrows,” he says, waving the beer and Eddie frowns, tilts his head.

“Why, what’s going on?”

“Just my back.”

“Bad?”

“Hmm.”

“Okay, give me a second.”

“Eddie, I’m fine, got a beer, I’m good.”

Eddie scoffs, “sure”, before he heads inside.

Trailers aren’t sound proofed. Every cough, every fart, your neighbour hears it and you hear them. So listening to Eddie on the phone just the other side of the door isn’t prying, it just can’t be helped.

“Hey man… yeah I’m good but Wayne’s not so I can’t make practice tonight… no, it’s his back so I want to be here incase he needs me…”

Wayne shakes his head. The shit people say about that kid, they have no idea who he is. He listens as Eddie hangs up then potters around the kitchen, drawers clattering, kettle screeching. His boy is so many things, but quiet sure isn’t one of them.

“Heads up, old man.”

Eddie takes a seat beside him on the porch, painkillers in one hand, glass of water in the other and a hot water bottle tucked under his arm. Wayne smiles, takes his pills while Eddie places the hot water bottle behind his back.

“That okay?”

And he can’t help it, but it strikes him how fucking proud he is of this kid, and alright, it’s a little thing, but still. He hears it all day long from the guys at work, complaining about their kids, how they’re selfish, how they don’t listen, and you know Eddie’s not an angel, and he’s not perfect, but he’s good, and he cares and he’s not afraid to show it if you let him.

Wayne gingerly raises his arm and pulls him in, hears him squeal “don’t kiss me!” He pulls him close, and lays an exaggerated kiss on Eddie’s forehead, and gets a “not in public, Jesus Christ,” for his efforts.

“You’re a good kid.”

“I know. You’re lucky to have me.”

He laughs, despite the pain in his back.

“That I am,” he says, squeezing his boy tight. “That I am.”

[capr1pengu1n]

You're bleeding magic out somehow

Summary: Basically Edward shares you with Harley, pure porn guys. Warnings: smut 18+, threesome (everyone is bisexual lmao), fingering (reader receiving), cunnilingus (reader giving), praise and degradation, dom! Edward and dom! Harley (switch Harley if you squint), rough sex, one slap, leather glove kink (sorry) Words: 3.1k ----------------------------------------------------

“I told you, she’s a doll isn’t she?”

You didn’t have to look at Edward to know he was smirking as he spoke, the selfish pride in his voice palpable as he presents you like one of his trophies. You’d been together for a while, and you thought he would have kept your relationship a secret from the malevolent underworld he operates in, and perhaps he had for the most part.

“You really weren’t kiddin’” came the other voice in the room, and your eyes dart from the floor to finally take in the unexpected guest. Harley. “How in the hell did ya manage that, Eddie?”

Edward lets out a scoff, his gloved hand squeezing at the side of your waist. “Oh please, she’s dating the unchallenged mastermind of Gotham City, I’d say she was the lucky one.”

Harley didn’t seem to be paying attention to his self-aggrandizing words, instead her eyes were firmly on you. She stepped closer a little, her head tilting and causing some wispy strands of blonde hair to fall across her face. You certainly hadn’t expected anyone else to be here when Edward had texted you the location of whatever warehouse he was scheming in; you figured he wanted you to help him blow off some steam, so being confronted with the Harley Quinn when you entered was certainly a rush.

“You really are a pretty one ain’t ya?” she says with a giggle, reaching out and tilting your chin up slightly. Her heeled boots meant she could look down on you a little, and it causes the heat to burn in your cheeks.

“Harley just complimented you darling, I hope you haven’t forgotten your manners.” Edward says condescendingly, causing you to quickly thank her for her kindness.

“Awe, how well trained,” she smirked, the way they both were talking to you was clearly having an effect; both a knot in your stomach and a growing heat between your legs. “You like girls, sugar?”

Edward laughed softly at her comment, and your eyes widened a little before nodding your head.

“Perfect,” she almost purrs, before suddenly walking past you both like she hadn’t reduced you to a flustered mess with little to no effort. “You know, you could really do with some couches in here Eddie, there ain’t nowhere comfy.”

“There’s a desk and a chair, what else do I need when I’m navigating problems you couldn’t possibly hope to understand- “

“Well, I guess that’ll have to do” she cuts him off, causing Edward’s jaw to clench a little. You couldn’t suppress the little smile that played on your lips at their interactions. “Get over here dollface.”

It took you a moment to realise she was talking to you, and with a nod of Edward’s head in approval you walk over to his desk, standing in front of Harley. She hums a little as she looks over you again, her hand softly tracing your hip almost absentmindedly.

“As soon as Eddie told me he had you all to himself, I did get a little jealous” she says with another giggle, her hand rising from your hip to your waist. “And I’d love to have a little fun with ya, but if you don’t wanna, you tell me now. Understood?”

Her tone had become more serious, and you understood she was clearly seeking your consent. To describe the scenario as a dream come true would be an understatement, so you didn’t hesitate to tell her you wanted it.

“Don’t think she’ll have free reign over you though” Edward’s voice cuts through the tension between you and Harley, as he comes up behind you and leans near your ear, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget who you really belong to.”

He pushes you forward a little, causing you to stumble against Harley, your chests practically pressed against each other. You could smell the sickly-sweet perfume on her as she captures your lips in a kiss. It was like she was trying her best to start slow, but she just couldn’t resist running her tongue over your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you. Taking this opportunity of weakness, Edward’s hand firmly grabs at your hips as he trails kisses along your neck and towards your shoulder. Trying your best to stay still and not shiver, you do your best to match Harley’s intensity as you hold on to the tops of her arms. However, it was like the wind had been knocked out of you when you felt your skirt move and a hand cup your clothed cunt.

“Harleen,” Edward mumbles a little harshly against your neck, “Do you truly have so little patience?”

Harley just laughs softly, giving you a soft slap on your clit before pulling her hand away and holding both up in a mock surrender. “Can ya blame me? She’s just gorgeous.”

“I suppose you have a point,” he says, “I’m guessing she was already wet?”

“Soaked.”

“What a needy girl.”

The way they spoke like you weren’t even there, embarrassingly causes you to have to bite your lip to hold in a whimper, your thighs pressed tight together.

“Come on Eddie, the poor thing is dyin’ on us.” she laughs, almost mocking. You turn slightly to look up at Edward, hoping the pleading in your eyes will convince him to move more at Harley’s pace. He scoffs, but you can see the trace of a smirk on his lips.

“Alright, only because a guest is here. I can’t have you getting spoilt now, can I?” and with a smack on your ass, he instructs you to sit on the desk. You watch as he whispers something to Harley, before she nods and stands between your legs. Her hands move up your thighs, excitement bubbling in your chest before she swiftly digs her nails in and drags them, enough to leave a mark. You gasp, hands gripping the edge of the desk at the sudden sting.

“So ya have something to remember me by.” She says teasingly, before hooking her fingers under your panties and pulling them down roughly. Red and black painted nails smooth over the marks on your thighs, before flipping your skirt to ensure you were fully on display to the two pairs of eyes that were on you.

“So pretty…” she whispers softly, before bringing her hand up and gently starting to circle your clit. At the same time, Edward moves to stand next to Harley, your right thigh separating the two criminals. He tugs your shirt up, exposing your bra and roughly groping your chest; quite the contrast to Harley’s more gentle ministrations.

As her fingers move a little faster against your throbbing clit, she makes the remark “you ain’t even taken off your gloves” to Edward. He meets your eyes and smirks before he replies.

“Oh trust me my dear, she likes it. Watch.”

He brings his hand up to your chin, holding it for a moment before pressing his thumb into your mouth. The feeling of the leather in your mouth makes you moan softly, sucking like the obedient girl you were for him. You heard Harley laugh, as Edward forced his thumb in deeper, before pulling it out and giving your cheek a gentle slap.

Not being given much time to react, you felt Harley’s finger against your entrance before she plunged it in roughly. On instinct your thighs move to close, before she uses her other hand to yank them apart again and snap “stay”. Before you can truly register the pleasure, she has two fingers deep inside you, setting a rough but steady pace. As your noises grow more frequent, Edward’s hand comes to rest on your throat, not yet squeezing. The sloppy sounds of your wet cunt were loud and cause your face to flush, your eyes darting away to instead look at the two super-villains watching you fall apart for them; Edward’s eyes laser focused on Harley’s fingers going in and out of you, and it makes you whimper at the sight. His eyes snap up to yours, before he leans in to kiss you.

“Enjoying yourself? I suppose someone like you was made to be the centre of attention,” he taunts against your lips, reveling in the pitiful nod you give him. He tightens his grip on your neck, causing a shaky gasp and your cunt to tighten.

“Damn, she got tight when you choked her. Do it again,” Harley ordered, a wicked smile on her face.

“I don’t take orders from you.” Edward mutters in a prideful manner, but he couldn’t resist tightening his grip again. A satisfied grin was plastered on his face when you elicit the same response, your knuckles going white as you grip the desk for what felt like your life.

“Awe, ain’t you such a little whore.” Harley taunts in an excited manner; she truly looks like the kitten whose got the cream as she makes you writhe and moan at her touch. She starts to curl her fingers inside you, getting you more worked up as your hips attempt to buck up with each thrust. Your eyes are drawn away from Harley to Edward as you notice how invested he is in the sight in front of him. As much as he’s trying to hide it, he’s clearly affected by the sight of Harley finger-fucking his girlfriend on his desk, his bulge straining against his suit trousers. With a shaky sigh, you meet his eyes, and he knows you’re getting close.

“You want to cum?” he asks, moving his hand from your throat to toy with your clit, Harley’s rough pace never slowing as you pathetically babble that you need to. “Well, I suppose you should beg Harley, shouldn’t you? And make sure you’re polite.”

You immediately start begging, looking at Harley through watery eyes as you do your best to convince her of your desperation. A smirk plays on her lips as she watches you intensely.

“Awe sugar, you got the cutest lil’ voice when you beg” she says in a saccharine sweet tone, “I don’t know if I believe ya.”

You whine. Loudly. “Please Harley I-I’ll do anything please I just…need to cum, please.”

“Anything?” she growls out, and somehow manages to thrust her fingers faster. She laughs in your face as you nod, “I’ll be nice to ya, cum on my fingers then.”

As she gives you permission, Edward circles your clit faster, causing you to cry out and cum all over her hand. You feel your hair stick to your face as your chest heaves, Harley’s fingers leaving your pussy with an embarrassingly wet noise. She immediately brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in a lewd manner and winking.

“Delicious.”

Edward’s gaze lingers on the show for a little bit too long, before he looks back at you.

“Look at the mess you’ve made, so dirty” he patronises, running his hand over the wetness of your inner thigh, tracing the nail marks Harley left with his index finger, “I hardly think it’s fair that you get to have all of the fun, hm?”

You nod obediently, eager to please them both which delights Edward’s possessiveness.

“You could fuck her here Eddie,” Harley begins, tapping your oversensitive clit, “while I get to fuck her mouth. Whatcha think?”

“Perfect, are you alright with that darling?” he asks you, and once you give consent he tugs you off the desk and gives you a grin, “Right, you bend over. Harley, get comfortable.”

As you do as he says, you can feel butterflies in your stomach at the excitement. You and Edward have done some very kinky things, but to get to partake in a threesome with, in your humble opinion, the hottest and most dangerous woman you think you’ve ever seen was making your breath heavy and your skin hot. Bending over the desk, you watch in awe as Harley jumps up on the desk and slides her black and red shorts down her legs, leaving her thigh high socks on. Your eyes are glued to her body, and you even hear Edward mutter a laboured “christ…” as she puts on a show of taking her underwear off.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” She teases with a wink, before sitting and getting comfortable with her cunt right in front of your face. You push your head forward, before she presses her fingers to your forehead, holding you back and making you let out an involuntary whine.

“Not until he’s inside ya sugar, you alright back there Eddie? Something distracting ya from fucking your little doll?”

You hear him grumble some variation of “shut up”, and you bite your lip to suppress the giggle bubbling up in you at the sound of him flustered. All thoughts vanish from your head though when you feel him press against you, rubbing up and down and catching on your clit. You try and grind backwards, leading him to slap your ass harshly.

“I’m in control, remember?” he says harshly, and due to the circumstances it’s hard to tell who he’s actually speaking to. Finally, he sinks into you slowly, letting you savour every inch as you gasp and keen beneath him. Once he’s inside you, he pulls back and slams back into you, causing you to lurch forward and luckily this time, Harley lets you start to lick at her pussy. You arch your back a little as he starts to set the pace, at the same time that Harley tangles a hand in your hair. Eyes closing, you can barely handle the sensations that are wracking through your body with each snap of his hips, each tug of your hair to guide your tongue to where she needs you.

The blonde’s voice sounds angelic to your ears, her moans getting higher whenever you drag your tongue a certain way. You try your best to maintain a good rhythm, but it’s hard when your being fucked in just the right way by your criminal boyfriend. Feeling his fingers digging in to your hips, you realise he’s taken his gloves off; opting to reach under your skirt to bruise you with how tight he’s holding on. Sucking her clit softly, you’re graced with another high-pitched moan from Harley, her grip on your hair tight.

“Fuck…you’re just perfect ain’t ya?” she slurs out, bucking her hips into your face. All you can do is moan softly into her cunt, resting your hands on her thighs to stabilise yourself.

“Made for this, weren’t you? Being used like a toy by two criminals.” Edward grunted, moving his hand to knead the soft skin of your ass. You nod as best you can against Harley cunt and let out a soft noise of embarrassment at his words, gripping her thighs a little tighter almost as your small revenge for her marking you earlier. She doesn’t seem to mind, still whining at the movement of your tongue.

“How cute, you like that baby? Gotham’s best and baddest fuckin’ ya dumb?”

“Of course she does, look at her. How pathetic.”

Fuck you can barely breathe with how turned on you are, their taunts somehow making you even wetter and your eyes to roll back even more. Time seems to be an illusion you can’t process, how long had they been fucking you?

“Such a filthy girl.”

You’re barely sure you can even register which of them just said that, your brains leaking out of your ears. Snapping partly back to reality, Harley pushes you further against her as her whimpers get more breathy. You can tell she’s getting close, so you try your best to maintain the rhythm of your tongue, wanting nothing more than for her to finish.

“Just like that sugar…gonna make me cum, yeah?” she manages to stutter out, her grip in your hair brutal, not that you mind. You could only imagine that you’d heard a chorus of angel’s singing from heaven when Harley cums all over your face, her voice desperate and powerful and stunning. Lapping up her cum as best as you could, she finally releases you, your face now half against the desk as you were still getting railed.

“I suppose you deserve a reward then, for making Harley feel good hm? Do you want the…fuck…the privilege of me finishing inside of you?” he growls at you, grabbing your hand and shoving it between your legs, “Tell me. Tell me how much you need the riddler to cum inside you.”

The combination of being allowed to touch yourself, Edward’s brutal pace and Harley looking down at you was proving to be too much. You stutter out how much you need him, how grateful you were, all the things that stroked his already inflated ego as his thrusts seem to go even deeper. You feel that you’re on a knife edge, so close to cumming you can almost taste it. With a glance up at Harley, her soft features smile at you as she strokes your flushed cheek.

“Go on sugar, you can do it. Cum.”

Her gentle words send you over the edge, crying out as tears form in your eyes. The pleasure is overwhelming, Edward’s pace not slowing until he suddenly stops, and you feel him finish inside you with a groan. The strong intakes of breath aren’t enough, as you feel the world dissolving around you before Harley gets off the desk and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“Well done baby, you were amazing.”

“You know, I didn’t actually give her permission to cum.” Edward grumbles as he pulls out, fixing his trousers. Harley just rolls her eyes playfully.

“He always this grouchy after fucking the life out of ya?”

“Don’t answer that.” He snaps, but when you turn to look at him, a small smile traces his features. Shifting uncomfortably, you precariously stand back up, feeling his cum start to leak out of you. Harley quickly grabs your underwear and helps you back into them, giving you a comedically big kiss on the cheek.

“Gotta say I’ve had a blast, you two gonna let me join in again sometime?” she asks cheekily.

“Maybe,” Edward says with a smirk, “and maybe we can work on that attitude of yours Harleen.”

She just laughs loudly, flicking Edward’s nose, and if you could have paid all the money in the world for a picture of his face at that moment, you would have.

“Yeah right. I think I’ll just stick to ruining your girl.” She teases with a wink, before getting dressed. As Edward pulls you against him and asks softly if you’re alright, you can’t help but blush and wonder about this new dynamic that seems to be unfolding. Safe to say, Harley was going to be keeping your relationship much more interesting, and you couldn’t be happier.

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thank you for reading my incredibly self indulgent smut fic lol x