#his voice was going higher at his brother and then immediately soft when he turned back to sky im in shambles rn

[prapais]

pai and his voice @ his brother: 😡📈 pai and his voice @ sky: 🥺📉

[bagopucks]

N. Hischier - When You Wake

✄————————————

Nico Hischier x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): drunk Nico, throwing up

Translations, in order of appearance!

Verdammt verrückt - damn crazy

Wecke sie nicht - don’t wake her

Liebling, mir ist heiß - darling I’m hot

Ich bin heiß - I’m hot

Du bist ein Arsch - you’re an ass

Du bist zu sexy - you’re too sexy

I mixed two requests for this one!

—————————————

I heard the ruckus outside of the apartment far sooner than I heard voices. Nico and I lived in a fairly safe building, despite it being Jersey. So when the rustling and thudding against the door sounded, I pushed aside most concern for reason. It had to be the boys. Nico informed me he was going out with a few from the team, including the Hughes brothers. Something about one last night out before everybody broke off to do their own things for the summer.

Once I heard a voice on the other side of the door, I knew it was the boys.

“Verdammt verrückt..” I heard a soft thud. Jingling keys. I smirked to myself as I adjusted the clip in my hair. I had just finished some evening cleaning. Dusting, wiping down counter tops, little things that needed done.

“Wecke sie nicht.”

“Dude, Nico. Shut the fuck up.” Luke’s tense tone threw me for a loop. I balled up the used paper towels in my hand, turning toward the door when it finally opened. Jack and Luke stood on either side of Nico. All three took a step forward to enter the apartment, only one made it through the door. Nico.. drunk and stumbling. On a cloud far higher than nine.

“Nico!” Jack immediately lunged forward to grab his captain when Nico started to lean a bit too far forward. I should have been worried, but truly I was more amused. I laughed softly at the poor Hughes’ struggle.

“Don’t wake her up!” Nico finally seemed to grasp his English, and I raised a brow. How wasted was he?

“We’re really sorry. I tried to tell him to slow down.” Luke apologized as he stood in the doorway. “Not to be the fun uncles who sugar ‘em up and send ‘em home with their mom.. but that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

“You don’t wanna stay and watch Nico?” I teased while Jack got the poor Swiss captain through the apartment and seated on the couch.

“Baby!” Nico’s slurred voice shouted excitedly, finally registering my presence.

“We’d rather not. He’s a lot to handle.” Jack took a step back.

“You boys need anything before you go?” I asked, but I earned quick and quiet no’s from both. “Alright. You losers get out of here before I recruit you both on bathroom duty.” I waved them off, starting to turn toward Nico before I immediately looked back at the door. “His jacket.” I pointed toward Luke, who held my lover’s jacket on his shoulder. The garment was quickly exchanged.

“Thanks for bringing him home.” I spoke, watching the two Hughes boys step out of the apartment and close the door. I let out a quiet sigh. Nico was a lot to handle when he was drunk. When I’d asked the universe for something interesting to fill my evening, this was not what I meant.

“I’m hot.” I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard Nico speak, turning back toward him with an amused smile.

“That’s what happens when you wear long sleeves to go out partying.” I crossed the living room to stand in front of him, and leaned forward resting my hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair. “Let me go grab you a change of clothes.”

“I can come with you.” Nico was having none of it. The idea of being left alone clearly bothering him. He reached out to grab the back of my leg.

“Nic, I think you should stay here.” I carefully pushed his hand away.

“No.” Nico whined, and I watched him pull his head away from my hand to dramatically throw it back. “I wanna go!”

“I can’t lift you, you ass.” I chastised, shaking my head.

“Du bist ein Arsch!”

“Don’t snap back at me in German, Nico.” I scolded lightheartedly, swatting his leg.

“I wanna go.” Nico held his ground.

“No.” I glared.

“I can walk.” I flinched the second Nico shot up, registering the immediate surprise in his features and rushing forward to support his leaning weight. He was dizzy, and judging by the way his hand rested on his stomach, I’d say nauseous as well.

“You idiot.” I mumbled, “let’s get you in bed.”

Trying to lead a drunk man down a hallway was like trying to lead a bull through a China shop. He stopped twice to lean on the wall, complaining about feeling sick, and when he was walking, he was zigzagging like his life depended on it. By the time I got Nico to the bedroom, I was convinced an hour had passed.

I carefully pushed him back onto the bed, helping him sit before I went to find a pair of shorts for him to change into.

“Liebling, mir ist heiß.” I smirked at his whining, in another language I couldn’t understand.

“English, Hisch.”

“Ich bin heiß!” I glanced back at him, incredulous.

“English.” I spoke much more slowly, making eye contact, watching him try to piece together what I was saying before he slowly nodded.

“I’m hot.” I smiled at the pout he threw my way. “Please get this off me..” Nico looked like a kicked puppy. Always so needy when he had any type of alcohol in his system. I carefully made my way over and nudged his hands away from the hem of his shirt. I set the pair of shorts I found on the bed, and dipped my hands below his shirt. Nico shuddered. I was always cold.

“You are warm.” I commented as I rested my hands on his stomach, watching as he tried to lean forward against me. I interrupted his movements by beginning to remove his shirt. “Arms up, love.” Nico did as told, throwing his arms in the air and allowing me to remove his shirt. I tossed it toward the hamper, shrugging it off when the garment landed on the floor.

When I looked back at Nico, he was peering at me through a curtain of dark hair. I laughed to myself and shook my head, reaching out to push it all back so I could get a good look at his big brown eyes.

“Feel better yet?” I tried to make conversation as I guided my attention to his jeans, popping the button and pulling the zipper down. I heard Nico let out an excited and surprised sound. I shook my head.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m turned on too.”

“Still drunk.” I held my ground, moving away to kneel on the floor and untie his shoes.

“Du bist zu sexy.” I heard a thud, glancing upwards only momentarily to see Nico had laid down. I smiled and rested my hand on the back of his calf, rubbing gentle circles into his skin. He was exhausted, and I couldn’t blame him. We were on the verge of summer, the end of the season, a vacation. He needed the rest. Once I got his shoes off, I grabbed ahold of the bottoms of his jeans and slowly pulled them off, standing and spotting the way Nico lifted his head from the bed to look at me.

Correction, he was tired and miserable.

“What’s up, honey?” I asked carefully, dropping his jeans on the floor. I reached for his shorts, though in a flash, Nico sprung up from the bed and I was pushed backwards by his frantic hands.

“Nic-“ panic washed over me as he immediately slipped away and into the bathroom. Then I heard him heaving over the toilet. I was swift to follow after him, gathering his hair in one hand as best as I could while I rested my other hand near the base of his neck, rubbing his back in slow circles. Nico usually wasn’t one to get sick after drinking. I had to assume that whatever he had was either new, or he simply drank too much. After he finished throwing up, and dry heaving, Nico’s heavy breaths were the only sound that filled the room. I flushed the toilet and quickly shut it, ushering him to sit down before I turned toward the cabinet. I rummaged through its contents and found a claw clip, turning back to Nico to pull his hair up on top of his head.

“Sorry,” he apologized quietly, but I merely shook my head in response.

“It’s okay.” I grabbed a towel for him to wipe his mouth, handing it over before I turned back to the sink to prep his toothbrush.

“I don’t feel good.” He whined as I looked back at him, sympathy in my gaze.

“Here.” I held his toothbrush out, and Nico slowly took it.

“You still feel hot?” I asked softly, earning a shrug in response. “Cooling off a little?” Nico stopped brushing his teeth for a moment to mumble out a, ‘yes.’

I stood by him in the bathroom, rubbing his shoulder while he leaned against my side. I could tell he just wanted to lay down and cuddle. We remained in that position until he had finished brushing his teeth. Then I gave him some space while I walked back into the bedroom to turn down our bedsheets.

Nico eventually followed me in, and despite his slight staggering, he seemed to have a better clarification of his surroundings. I smiled at him, and reached out a hand to help guide him toward his side of the bed. Nico put up no resistance at all.

“You don’t have to use the blankets if you’re too warm.” I informed him as I helped him lay down and get situated. Nico nodded, dropping his head onto his pillow. I gently fixed his hair again, taking the clip out and smoothing the dark locks down. The Swiss man muttered the beginnings of ‘I love you’ in German, but by the time he got halfway through the phrase, it fell apart into drunken mumbling. I laughed and rolled my eyes. I pulled the sheet up to his hips, covering some of his body before I slipped the sweatshirt I wore off.

I heard Nico groan, glancing over to see him holding his stomach.

“Think you’re gonna throw up again?” I asked, waiting. I saw no reason to lay down with him if I was only going to get back up.

“No.. I don’t- think so. Just uncomfortable.” I nodded cautiously before climbing into bed. I rolled onto my side and slid close to Nico, finding a comfortable spot.

“You’ll be okay.” I whispered as I gently moved his hands from his stomach, resting one of my own there. “Just breathe, okay? I want you to rest a little, and once we’re sure you’re not throwing up any more, I’ll go grab some water.” I dragged my thumb across his skin, sighing at the sight. Nico closed his eyes, trying to relax as he drew in steady breaths. “I love you so much, handsome.” I whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to his shoulder. “Just gotta sleep this off.”

Nico let out a long sigh, opening his eyes to glance at me, guilt in his expression.

“I’m sorry.. I shouldn’t have-“ he paused, wincing.

“Getting sick?” I tensed, ready to spring into action, but Nico never responded. He simply sat in silence and waited for the feeling to pass. It wasn’t until his features smoothed that I relaxed again.

“Sorry.” He simply muttered. I moved my hand from his stomach to his chest, resting it over his heart.

“Don’t be. I don’t even remember the last time you came home like this. It doesn’t bother me to take care of you.”

“Yeah.. but..” Nico looked away, “I’m sorry.” He didn’t seem all too convinced by my words.

“You are not a burden to me, Nico.” I assured. “It’s nice to repay you every once in a while. For everything you do for me. This is nice.” I pressed another kiss to his shoulder. “I love you so much. Whether you’re healthy or sick. Or drunk or sober.”

Nico took some time to register my words before he turned his head to look at me.

“You’re so perfect.” He breathed out.

“Oh hush.” I shook my head. “Just rest, okay?” I advised, and he nodded.

“Long as you don’t leave.”

“I’ll be right here when you wake.”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

The Most Impossible Battle

Pairing: Young Robert Baratheon x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: soft dubcon, NSFW, gradual consent, rough sex

Words: 3020

Summary: Robert hated all Targaryens. Wise words from those close to him though make Robert Baratheon give in to the idea of taking (y/n) Targaryen as his bride.

By the Gods Robert, have mercy on the girl.” Ned pleaded but was immediately shut up by Robert’s roaring voice.

“Mercy?! MERCY?! Did that Targaryen whore’s brother show your sister mercy when he raped her?!! The Targaryen don’t deserve mercy Ned!” Young and callous, Robert Baratheon’s beautiful blue eyes were now tainted with his fury and anger. He stood a few inches higher above the his Stark brother. Even with that fact, Ned refused to stand down on the matter.

With a stone face, he goes on “Her brother is to blame. She has done nothing wrong.”

That made Robert scoff. “Except let the others escape. She’s fully aware of her family’s guilt. Have you so quickly forgotten what her father had done to your brother and father? The whole family is taint and should be eradicated.”

Yes, young (y/n) Targaryen had made sure her younger siblings were well out of harms way. At the moment she had been captured she had sent her younger brother Viserys and newborn sister Daenerys away on a cargo ship. To where, she refused to say. Brave, Ned admired that much about the girl. In that moment he was reminded so much of Lyanna. Brave, beautiful and stubborn.

Ned couldn’t let Robert execute her. He didn’t want anymore blood shed thanks to this stupid war.

He gives Jon Arryn a sideways glance, asking for his help. Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale, purses his lips together for a moment. “Think rationally Robert.” The older man did always have a way in reining him in. Both men viewed him as a surrogate father and in that aspect resonated a great deal of respect. “Even though there were a great deal of people who hated Aerys, there an even greater many who loved Rhaegar and (y/n). Those supporters are already upset at the death of Rhaegar, as deserving as it was. But (y/n)? She’s but a sweet maid who has done nothing. Those families might do something hasty if you were to execute her.”

“Then I’ll kill them. I’m king now and if a see someone that isn’t obedient I can surely have them executed. The whole lot of those Targaryen loving scum.” Spitting he stomps over to a large window to look over his new dominion of King’s Landing. Hands splayed on the windowsill he glares out over the city.

“Be reasonable Robert.” Jon tries again. “That will just earn you more resentment from the people you now govern. Otherwise you’d be just like Aerys.”

That made Robert’s broad shoulders go rigid. The last thing he wanted was to be compared to the Targaryen king. No, he didn’t want to be anything like Aerys. “Then what do you suggest I do with the girl?”

The room was quiet for a moment, as if Jon was afraid to even say the solution. One encouraging look from Ned gave him the strength he needed. “Marry her.”

Ned gaped at the Arryn lord, he hadn’t been expecting that as a solution.

Robert spun on his heel, dark mane of hair flying as he did so. “Marry her? Have you lost your mind?!”

“Not as much as you have.” Jon speaks truthfully, staring down the young man who used to be his ward. “Think about it Robert. If you marry her, then those who still support the Targaryens will have no choice but to support you. She’s well loved among the people. That would give you good reception, having her as your bride.”

Gritting his teeth, his blue eyes narrow. “No. Never. I will never marry her. It would be a disgrace upon the memory of Lyanna. Lyanna was who I was supposed to marry. And now because of that Targaryen bastard, she’s dead.”

“What’s done is done Robert. You cannot turn back time. But you can attempt to move on.” He tries to sound a little sympathetic. Robert had been deeply in love with Lyanna, but even Jon Arryn knew that his love only ran so deep. It hadn’t stopped Robert from sleeping with dozens of other women.

Sighing, Ned places a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “He’s right. You’re king now. You must do things that you don’t necessarily want to do. Keeping the peace by marrying her… It needs to be done Robert. There is still unrest all throughout Westeros. Her father and brother may have been bastards, but she was beloved by all the realms. It would do you good.”

“Damn you Ned. Damn you and your sensible words.”

*

Were they okay? You hoped Viserys didn’t lose his temper with the newborn Daenerys.

Your fingers made circles in the dirt that you called your bed.

They should be safely out in the open water. People would have a hard time finding that ship.

Fear and worry and the echo of Viserys pleading with you to go with them. But there wasn’t any time. Not for you at least. You had to delay Robert’s soldiers. That was the only way that the ship would be able to leave the port in time. Daenerys’ shrill cries still haunted you as you stared at the walls of your cell. You never thought in a million years that you would wind up there, in the dungeons of your ancestors.

You didn’t know what would be worse, you rotting away in the dungeon or Robert Baratheon having you executed. You understood why all this had happened, you weren’t that much of a naive girl. True you had been sheltered most of your life, you knew how the world worked. Your brother had been a fool. It was his fault for stealing the Stark girl although you didn’t believe one bit that he had raped her. That was not in Rhaegar’s nature. Neither was war. Now you were paying for the price of it. You knew that if the soldiers had caught Viserys he would have been as good as dead. He posed a threat to the usurper as now being the next in line for the Iron Throne. The last male heir of Aerys. What would your fate be?

You hadn’t anticipated marriage being an option.

Guards had dragged you out of your cell, filthy and stumbling as your eyes tried to adjust to the bright light that suddenly blinded you. You were lead to the reception hall that was once filled with the skulls of your family’s dragons. There in the back, commanding authority was the Iron Throne. On it now sat an imposing Robert Baratheon. It was an odd sight for you, seeing a man that wasn’t your insane father on the throne. One that lacked the Targaryen violet eyes and snow white hair. Robert’s thick hair clashed against your own; violently dark opposed to your gentle silver tresses. He looked every part of king, much more than your father did. During the last few years, Aerys’ body had begun to deteriorate greatly as his body thinned and became frail. Not Robert. His body was taught with muscle, ready to strike. His thick beard betrayed his young age, making him look so much more older than you knew he was. The new King of Westeros.

You had thought you were there to hear your death sentence. What came out of the stag king’s mouth nearly made you lose balance.

“I will take you as my queen. You have no say in the matter and will act accordingly unless you want to meet the same fate as your brother and father.” Stating with no compassion in his heart, rich blue eyes glare at you. “It seems fitting since he took my bride away.”

Opening your mouth you realize you didn’t know what to say. Surely you could oppose but what would that do to help you? From his voice it was clear that the last thing he wanted to do was marry you. The feeling was very much mutual. Even though your brother had been an idiot and had been in the wrong, you still hated Robert for killing him. You realized you might want death rather than this. To have to bed the man that killed Rhaegar… It made you sick. Rhaegar was an idiot, but he was your idiot. Dozens of memories resurfaced that nearly had you weeping.

“I… I am to be your bride?” The words were laced with venom. “A usurper’s queen?”

If he hadn’t been perched on the throne you knew he would’ve slapped you. Instead you noticed the subtle whitening of his knuckles as he gripped at the throne. “Watch your tongue, whore. You should be grateful that I don’t crush your skull in with my hammer.”

Dragon fire flushed your face. “I would rather you do that than subject me than your disease ridden cock.”

There was a collective gasp in the hall. A beloved princess you were, but that didn’t mean you let people step over you. You were blood of the dragon after all.

“Your grace,” broke in a voice next to you. A solemn looking man took to your side. The sigil of a direwolf displayed proudly on his vest. “Please, I know this must be difficult for you but it is the best course of action for you to take. You’ll still have your life and your people.”

“And what of my respect? My dignity? I lose all that to the Baratheon usurper.”

In a more hushed tone, the young Stark lord bends a bit to whisper in your ear. “I promise to you, if you go through with this I’ll make sure your siblings remain safe. To the old Gods and the new, I swear that they won’t be harmed.”

You soften. The Starks kept good to their word, everyone knew that. How could you say no when it ensured the safety of your siblings?

“Okay… Okay.”

*

By the Gods she was beautiful. Disgustingly beautiful with her Targaryen traits. Robert hated it. Hated her and her entire family. But he couldn’t deny her beauty. Especially when she stood there in front of him, her Targaryen cloak around her shoulders about to be replaced by the Baratheon yellow and black. She looked every bit a queen should. Full pouting lips, dark eyelashes that kissed at her cheeks when she fluttered her eyelids. The trail of her neck that led down to a prominent collar bone (probably from having been denied food for days).

It should have been Lyanna there in her place. Jon Arryn was right in one thing though, he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t dream of mending the past. Nothing would bring Lyanna back to him. Robert would take Rhaegar’s sister as retribution; watch the fallen prince turn in his grave as he married her.

Robert couldn’t deny his immense attraction to her though. More so now that she stood in front of them in their wedding chambers. The Bedding Ceremony was about to commence. Violet eyes hold onto blue as she stands her ground.

“Turn around.” He growls out. “I don’t want to look at your face.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” She hisses back and turns around. Her silver hair had been done so meticulously in luscious braids and curls that even Robert couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her hair. Catching himself, he gives it a good yank making her suck in breath at the pain. His other hand goes to the laces on the back of her dress, easily ripping them to reveal her flawless, bare, back. Such beautiful skin. Robert’s fingers glide along her back before tearing off the rest of her dress so that it pooled around her feet. (y/n) continues to stand tall with her back straight. Grabbing the back of her neck, Robert bends her over the bed so that her face was pressed into the mattress; her small hands curled tightly into the silken bedsheets. Preparing for whatever Robert had planned for her. Surely she must know what he would do. Treat her as harshly as Rhaegar must have treated Lyanna. His thick thigh pushes her legs apart and Robert nearly sighs at the sight. The sight of her exposed and bent over was enough for him to salivate over. What a beautiful cunt she had. Possibly the most beautiful he had seen. He wanted to run his tongue along her slit and taste her.

(y/n) struggled slightly to move her face into a better position for her to breathe. As she did so she unconsciously wiggled her ass, an ass that begged for a smack.

That’s just what he did. Reeling his hand back and smacking her ass. “Stay still.” A vivid red handprint starts to bloom on her rear. His large hand grabs her pussy and with his fingers spreads her lower lips apart in preparation for his cock. He was a little bit too excited to fuck her. He shouldn’t have felt the thrill of it rush through him. In the end he was just as weak as any other man. As much as he wanted to be rough, he also wanted to enjoy it. Ever so slowly he pushes his cock inside of her inch by inch. Each slow movement of him entering her made (y/n) tremble and dare he say, even moan a little bit. Finally he was completely sheathed inside of her. Robert let his head roll back, eyes closing at the sublime feeling of her wonderful cunt. It was unlike anything else he had felt before. And he had fucked many maidens. Many virgins as well. None had felt quite so good though. His pace was slow at first, enjoying each contraction her cunt made as he slid his cock in and out. Using his hands, he tilted her hips up even more and hitting the right place, (y/n) lets out a shaky moan. It made him pick up the pace and pound into her. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her ass as he went balls deep into her was maddening.

“Fuck.” His deep voice groans out. He wanted to see her face. Wanted to see her tits as he fucked her senselessly. With such ease he flips her onto her back. (y/n)’s face was incredibly red now that she faced him. She was trying to glare at him but once Robert slid back into her, her eyes rolled back into her head. Crying out as he rammed into her over and over again, so much so that it made her tits bounce. Robert wraps his fingers around her slender neck putting the slightest pressure; tightening his grip little by little.

*

Fuck

Fuck

FUCK

It was becoming hard to breathe but that was the least of your worries. The sight of Robert, his barrel chest and taught abs fucking you was too much to bear. Hard lines of his muscles twitching as he tightened his fingers around your neck.

Why did it feel so good? He was basically fucking you like a whore. You were a pureblood Targaryen and deserved better. But you found yourself enjoying his harsh treatment. You wanted him to get rougher. You wanted him to pound harder into you so that you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Head becoming light and warm, something else was happening. You felt a tightening below. The more he fucked you, the tighter the coil seemed to get until…

No. You didn’t want to be the first one to come undone. You didn’t want him to know that you were actually enjoying it. At the rate he was going though it was only a matter of time.

To take back control you launched yourself at him, catching him by surprise and his hand releasing from your neck. With your surprise attack you wrestle him so that he was now the one under you on the bed. His cheeks are red, eyes hard as he regards you with question. His about to protest until you sit yourself down on his cock. Protest devolving into a groan he lets his head fall onto the mattress as you roll your hips. You place your hands on his hard chest. Bobbing up and down his cock you try to ignore your cunt begging for release. Curling your fingers, you dig your nails into his chest and drag them harshly down. His face scrunches up, baring his teeth and hissing. Hands reaching around you to grab at your ass, he pulls you quickly up and down. You wouldn’t allow him to be in control for too long though. Again you dig your nails and drag them. Robert releases your ass and glares up at you. Beautiful blue eyes. Your own little hands reach to his thick neck and tighten like claws of a hawk. Using that as support you lift yourself off of his engorged member and start to tease the head of his cock. Slowly, torturously slow, you barely sit down enough for the head to be sheathed before coming back up. Your husband growls impatiently, wanting you to go back to riding his cock. You’re just buying yourself more time and shortening his. That’s when you sit all the way down on his cock. His mouth gapes open as you ride him. His breathing become hard, his hips desperately thrusting to match you.

You feel his body lock up underneath you as he lets out a loud groan.

The two of you were frozen in that position, trying to regain your breath. You had won. At least this battle. A bit unsteadily you lift yourself off of him; something warm and wet dribbling out. Smuggly you lay down beside him and stare at the ceiling, the space between your legs upset with you that you denied yourself your own orgasm.

“Well fuck.” Robert pants. Lazily he turns his head. “You didn’t come.”

“I wouldn’t dare grant you that satisfaction.” You roll away from him and onto your side.

Determined to prove you wrong, Robert’s hand lands on your shoulder and rolls you onto your back. “Fuck that noise. I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you’ll see stars.”

[iphone18pham]

Time With You

Disclaimers! Bad grammar, Not Proofread

Paring: Prince!Hyunjin x Prince!reader Ft Yeji as hyunjin sister

Masterlist: GG,   BG

Genre: fluff, tiniest bit of angst and suggestive

Synopsis:You are supposed to marry Princess Yeji but you end up likeing her brother more.

An: OMG I have 2 other fanfic’s that are finished and i need to post and i have 1 that is almost done. Also this is my first time making something like so if you like this please requests.

 Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a prince (male reader) who was supposed to have an arranged marriage with the beautiful and kind-hearted Princess Yeji. He had known about this for a long time, but the thought of marrying someone he barely knew left him feeling uneasy.

One day, at the palace's grand ballroom, where the arranged marriage was celebrated. (male reader) was nervous, but entered the ballroom anyway. After a little chatter with other higher-ups (male reader) caught a glimpse of a tall, handsome man with piercing eyes and a sharp jawline. It was none other than Prince Hyunjin, Yeji's older brother and the kingdom's most eligible bachelor. As the night wore on, (male reader) found himself drawn to Hyunjin's magnetic presence. He was funny, smart, and had a way of making (male reader) feel seen and heard in a way that no one else had ever done before.

As the night drew to a close, (male reader) found himself alone with Hyunjin in the palace gardens. The moon cast a soft glow over his sculpted features as he turned to (male reader), a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"I couldn't help but notice the way you were looking at me tonight," Hyunjin said, his voice low and smooth with a smirk plastered on his face. "Do you have something on your mind?"

(male reader) felt his cheeks flush as he struggled to find the right words. "I...I don't know what you mean, Your Highness," he stammered. "I'm just...nervous about my upcoming marriage to Princess Yeji."

Hyunjin's smile faded slightly as he leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "You don't have to marry her, you know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You could choose someone else. Someone like me, for instance."

(male reader) felt his heart skip a beat as he realized what Hyunjin was saying. Could it be possible that he felt the same way (male reader) did? That he was willing to risk everything for a chance at something real?

As (male reader) gazed into Hyunjin's eyes, he knew there was only one answer. "Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you, Prince Hyunjin."

Hyunjin's face split into a megawatt grin as he pulled (male reader) into a tight embrace,his arms wrapping around him protectively. "I'm so glad," he murmured, his lips brushing against (male reader)'s ear. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long." Suddenly, Hyunjin leaned in and pressed his lips against (male reader)'s, the wetness of their tongues mixed with all the tension, creating a sensation that was both electrifying and intoxicating. Their kiss deepened, and they lost themselves in the moment, oblivious to the world around them. It was okay for them to finally express their true feelings for each other. When they finally pulled away, they were breathless and giddy, their hearts racing with excitement. Although with everything going on inside, all they could focus on was each other.

From that moment on, Hyunjin and (male reader) were inseparable. They went on secret dates, held hands in the palace gardens, and stole kisses whenever they could. They knew that what they were doing was risky, but they couldn't help themselves. They were in love, and nothing else mattered.

However, their happiness was short-lived. One day, while they were strolling in the palace gardens, they were caught in a compromising position by one of Yeji's attendants. The attendant immediately reported what she had seen to Yeji, who was devastated by the news.

Yeji confronted her brother and (male reader), demanding to know why they had kept their relationship a secret. Hyunjin was unapologetic, insisting that he loved (male reader) and that he didn't care who knew about it. (male reader) felt guilty for hurting Yeji, but he knew that he couldn't deny his feelings for Hyunjin any longer.

In the end, Yeji agreed to cancel the arranged marriage and let (male reader) be with Hyunjin. The couple was relieved and grateful, but they knew that they would have to face the disapproval of many members of the kingdom. They were willing to risk everything for their love, but they also knew that it wouldn't be easy.

Despite the challenges they faced, Hyunjin and (male reader) stood together, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes with unwavering love and devotion. They knew that they were meant to be together, and they were willing to fight for their happiness, no matter what.It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, the announcement of my arranged marriage to Princess Yeji. But as I walked into the grand ballroom of the palace, my heart sank. I couldn't help but feel like something was off. 

[nycbaby21]

my first post so pls be kind I’m still new to writing. Sorry it’s so long. :)

Cole Caufield imagine

Summer is my favorite time of the year. No more waking up at the crack of dawn headed to class after class, no more annoying roommates who never clean up after themselves, and most importantly no more time away from your friends.

I was twelve years old when I first met the Hughes brothers for the first time. I spent the summer with my grandparents and the family moved in next door. Immediately clicking with the middle son who was the closest to your age and making a life long friend.

Jack was my best friend my platonic soulmate, Quinn was the older brother I never had, and Luke was the annoying little brother who also always had a shoulder for me to cry on. Jim and Ellen quickly became like second parents to me, claiming that I was the daughter they always wanted but never got. Ever since that summer everyone had bets on when Jack and I would realize “our feelings” and finally get together. I love Jack with my whole entire being but never in the way our families wanted.

This summer was already off to a great start, I pulled up to the lake house and didn’t even have time to park before the guys came running down. I barely made it out of my seatbelt before Trevor and Jack were pushing each other trying to get the “first hug of the summer.” It started years ago when Alex got to my car first and bragged the whole summer about being the favorite because he got my first hug. As Jack and Trevor pushed each other out of the way, Cole rounded the car and slipped into the passenger seat leaning over and giving me a hug. My heart fluttered and my cheeks blushed hugging him.

I always thought Cole was attractive and a great guy but I never thought it was of it as more than a schoolgirl crush. I mean being friends with all of them I’d have crushes on some of them before but they quickly faded. My feelings for Cole never did, if anything they kept getting stronger and stronger. Last summer was when I actually realized how bad I had it for him. It was the last night at the lake house and everyone tried to stay awake as long as they could. All of us outside by the bonfire just being with each other before life took us all our separate ways for the year.

Slowly everyone started turning in and only Cole and I were left outside. The fire had started dying down and the cool breeze was more apparent now. I cuddled deeper into my chair and pulled my blanket higher trying to stay warm not wanting to go inside enjoying the time alone with Cole. He obviously noticed, because he always notices the small things about everyone, and rounded the fire pit and sat down next to me. He smiled down at me and wrapped an arm around me pulling me close. I was thankful I could blame the flush on my cheeks on the flames. We stayed that way for hours just leaning into each other and talking about the summer.

I hug everyone else when I can finally make it out of my car. The guys let me settle in the room I had claimed since the first time Quinn and Jack showed me the place. The room was untouched exactly how I left it last summer. Smiling I get everything situated and the picture frame on the small dresser catches my eye. It was from my high school graduation when all the guys surprised me by showing up.” It won’t be long before we get to take another picture like that,” a voice breaks me from my trance softly placing the picture down. My eyes are met with the soft smile on Quinn’s face while he leans against the doorframe.” It’s so weird that I only have one more year left and I’m all done with school.”

I make my way to the bed and sit down patting the spot next to me before laying back and looking at the ceiling. Quinn chuckles and joins me just like he had many times before. He was the easiest person to be around, we could sit in complete silence and be totally okay with it. His presence was calming to me, like a security blanket of some sorts.” We were thinking about heading to the course and playing a round of golf. You wanna come or stay here and rest,” he asks turning his head to the side looking at me. It was sweet that Quinn always included me in whatever the boys did, even when I didn’t like the activity the invitation was still there.” Yeah sounds like fun. Just let me get changed and we can go,” I say looking over at him.

“She said yes guys! She said yes! Go get dressed before she changes her mind,” we hear shouting from the hallway. Seconds later we see five guys rushing around throwing outfits together. Quinn and I bust out laughing and he jumps up turning and pulling me up with him. Shaking my head laughing I look through my clothes and grab a light blue shirt and paired it with my white golfing skirt. Quickly changing and brushing my hair, I head down stairs into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water. When I turn around Trevor is standing so close our faces are almost touching. I jump slightly because he scared me and my reaction makes him double over in laughter.” Ha ha yeah really funny Z,” I say sliding past him opening the water and drinking some. He turns and I can’t help but smile at him because of how squinty eyed he gets when he laughs really hard.

I gather my hair into a ponytail at the base of my neck when the rest of the guys finally make their way to us. My eyes drift over to Cole as I take in his appearance. The tight golf shirt and pants weren’t helping me at all. I thought I was quick enough checking him out no one noticed, until I saw the look Jack was giving me. I was totally busted and silently prayed he would keep his big mouth shut. Shaking my head at him as a warning he just smiles really big and heads towards the door. Throwing an arm around my shoulder he leads us outside and to the dark suv in the driveway. It was an unspoken rule that whoever got to the car first got shotgun, a stupid rule which always ended up with someone mad or hurt from racing outside. Quinn was driving with Luke in the passenger and Cole, Trevor, and Alex sharing the middle row. I was pulled into the back with Jack and settled in. Normally I never golfed, I just went and sat in the golf cart the whole time sipping on whatever drink I had at the time.

This past year I had been practicing and finally felt confident enough to join in. I hadn’t told anyone yet hoping to surprise them because the only time I ever played ended so badly.” So you and Coley eh,” Jack ask leaning down whispering in my ear. My eyes go wide and I slap him shushing him. The loud smack of my hand hitting his chest alerted the middle row and three heads turned around starring at us. Blush creeps it’s way onto my face and Jack can’t help but laugh.” Jack quit being annoying and bothering her,” Quinn says looking at him through the rear view mirror. He fakes shock,” how do you know it was me? Y/n could have been the one bothering me.” The sentence makes everyone laugh.” Because she’s y/n and you’re Jack,” Alex laughs turning back around.” Also she couldn’t be annoying if she tried. Annoying is your default setting,” Cole smiles looking over at me. I send him back a small smile as he turns to face forward. I immediately regret looking over at Jack who has a smirk on his face. Today wasn’t going to be a good day, I could feel it.

After getting everything in order we all made it to the first hole and set up the order. After Luke swung the guys all started heading to the carts for the next hole.” Actually could I maybe play this time,” I ask all of the sudden scared about if I could really play like I had practiced. They all send me shocked and amused looks and nod. Trevor walks over and present a club to me like it was made of gold or something. Laughing everyone settles down as I make my way to start my turn. I take a deep breath and shake out my shoulder nervously.” Hey Coley why don’t you help her with the stance,” Jack suggest sipping on his drink. I all of the sudden had the urge to run the devils player over with the golf cart he was sitting on.” You don’t have to. I’m fine really. I should be able to figure it out,” I rush out while he makes his way over to me.” It’s no problem. Really I don’t mind helping you out,” he stands behind me and wraps his arms around holding the club with me.

I try and hold my breath scared he could hear my heart beating. As Cole helps me adjust my stance I can’t help but imagine if this is how it would be if he took me on golf dates. His body pressed against mine, soft voice giving me instructions in my ear, and our friends chirping us saying get a room.” So you got it,” he asks stepping back and leaning against the cart closest to him. I clear my throat and nod with a smile. The swing wasn’t one for the record books but it was double as far as any other time I had done it. I slowly turn and see all the guys looking at me bewildered. I laugh and shrug my shoulders,” I guess Caufield is just a really good teacher.” As I pass him I squeeze his shoulder and place the club back into its place in the bag.

After what felt like years we finally finished the game. I lost like badly but it was an improvement from before. Making our way back to the house we all loaded up back into our original seats. Fatigue set in from the game and the Sun so I leaned my head onto Jack’s shoulder closing my eyes. As I drifted to sleep I didn’t hear the conversation happening just one row ahead of me.

“Cole seriously grow a pair,” Trevor exclaimed loudly. He was quickly hushed and the trio looked back to see me sleeping soundly on our shared friend. Jack had leaned his head down to rest on mine and closed his eyes too.” Shut up Trev. Drop it okay,” Cole said sadly turning around not wanting to see Jack all cuddled up with the girl he had fallen for last summer. Alex looked at his friends face and leaned over,” they are just friends Cole.” He knew that obviously but that didn’t stop the small part of his brain from thinking how natural it was for the two of you. Everyone always made comments about her ending up with his best friends but never him. Last summer he tried to share his feelings only to see the girl of his dreams asleep cuddled into his chest by the fire pit.

The rest of the afternoon was relaxed. Everyone set out doing their own thing and I couldn’t help but look for Cole to see what he was doing. I couldn’t find him anywhere. I check the kitchen only to find it empty. Sighing I turn towards the window above the sink and watch Trevor chase Alex and Jack with a water gun.” He’s out by the dock,” Quinn’s voice startles me for the second time today.” I have no idea what you are talking about,” I say trying to pass him and he stops me. Looking up into his eyes I can tell he sees right through me. Quinn could always tell what I was feeling, sometimes even before I had it figured out.” Cole. He’s out by the dock. Just in case you wanted to know,” his eyes sparkled. He knew why I was looking for Cole but he didn’t say it. I shook my head and sat down on the counter and sighed.” It doesn’t matter Q. He doesn’t see me that way. I heard him and Trevor talking about a girl in the way home today.”

It was true I hadn’t been asleep the whole time and I heard parts of the conversation about the girl Cole had liked for sometime now and how he wanted to make a move.” You don’t know that,” he says walking towards me stopping right in front of me. “ Yes I do okay. I’m not the kind of girl guys like him date. I’m just the kind he’s friends with,” I sigh looking into his eyes. He leaned forward and placed his hand on my knee squeezing it gently.” He’s be an idiot not to see you like that. And trust me Cole Caufield is no idiot.” His words swirl in my brain as he walks out of the kitchen leaving me sitting their with my thoughts. Taking a deep breath I make my way down to the dock. Walking down I see the boy swinging his legs over the edge of the dock from where he sits.

“This spot taken,” I ask trying to keep my confidence as time went on. Quinn would never lie to me and hurt my feelings on purpose, so I was really hoping he was right about this.” All yours,” his smile didn’t meet his eyes like it normally did. I sat down close enough that our shoulders brush. We sat their in silence for a minute while I tried to calm my breathing.” So I heard you and Trevor on the way back today,” I finally say looking straight forward at the water not making eye contact. I can feel him stiffen and looked over at me. His eyes scan my face for any sign that I may share his feelings.” You did,” he asks with a low voice. Finally looking at him I nod my head.” Just so you know any girl who doesn’t want to date you is an idiot Cole,” I say looking from his eyes to his lips so quickly he wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t starring at me so closely.” I don’t think you’re an idiot y/n,” he whispers so low I barely hear him. He breaks eye contact and stares ahead.

I freeze and look at him. Did I hear him right? Was Quinn actually telling the truth? How long had I been holding my breath? My lungs started to burn so I took a deep breath and cupped his face with my hands making him look at me. His blue eyes widened and scanned every inch of my face.” I don’t think I’m an idiot either,” I whisper afraid if I talk too loud I’ll scare him away.” You don’t,” he ask slowly turning his body towards mine and leaning in. I shake my head no and look between his eyes and lips again. When he doesn’t pull away and puts one of his hands on my waist and the other on my thigh I can’t take it anymore and close the distance between us. I always figured when I finally got to kiss him fireworks would fly and butterflies would jumble all around in my stomach. I was so wrong. Sitting there on that dock kissing him felt comfortable, felt normal, felt like home. Cole Caufield felt like home.

[xandertheundead]

When someone said they came from a big family the usual number was around six to eight people in the immediate family, branching out past that to other relatives could make that number climb even higher.

It took awhile for Panchito to understand that and why people gave him such shocked looks when he told them exactly how big his family truly was.

Panchito was the middle child of seventeen, but calling him a middle child was pretty vague since he shared that title with fourteen of his other brothers and sisters. If he wanted to be specific, he was the seventh oldest even though he was laid two days after his sister Isabella Andrea but hatched sooner. After you branch out from there the number easily climbed into the hundreds.

Growing up in a coop, even on sprawling land, with that many chickens could sometimes be overwhelming. Having to go out on the land to watch the cattle for the day was honestly a godsend when you were ready to tear the feathers out of your siblings for sitting on your guitar like it was a chair.

So when he left his home and joined The Three Caballeros Panchito was excited about being one of only three and it was wonderful!

What he didn’t expect was the quiet moments at night while traveling where he had his own cot/hammock/bed or seat and suddenly felt like there was too much space.

He tried to shove those feelings down, after all Panchito was the life and voice of the party, one didn’t dwell on sad things when they had a job to do. It had kept everything to himself, only letting those thoughts and feelings take over when José and Donald were asleep and he could clutch at the ratty stuffed doll his youngest sister Elliana had given him before he left without anyone seeing.

Until one night, when he had sworn both his friends were asleep, while he clutched the doll tight and his eyes grew wet he felt a warm hand on his back and José’s quiet warm voice behind him.

“Everything alright, meu amigo?”

He had never cried in front of his friends before, why would he have? But the way José pulled himself closer when Panchito couldn’t hold back a sniffle and started to coo in a soft comforting way like his Mamá had when he got hurt made the tears finally spill over. It was embarrassing, but he couldn’t stop and was grateful that José said not a word as he pulled Panchito into a hug and let him cry all over his sleep shirt until the sun rose.

The next night after lights went out and Panchito gripped the doll tight, he was surprised when José suddenly climbed into his bed with him.

“Que?” He squeaked. “What are you doing, José?”

José gave him a slow smile and settled on his side so he could face Panchito. “I was feeling homesick, my dear Paquito.”

“Eh?” Panchito frowned. “But you don’t have any siblings.”

It was out of his mouth before he thought about it, wincing at unintentionally bringing up the fact that José had no grown up with a traditional family. Lost at a young age, finding a family instead of being given one, José’s experience was so very different compared to Panchito’s but he had never thought less of José for it.

He turned quickly on his side as well to face José, hand reaching out to rest on José’s arm.

“Sorry! I did not mean it like that.” He apologized, worry dying down when José gave him one of those dazed happy looks that made something in Panchito chest grow tight and shook his head.

“No worries, Pancho.” José reassured gently, reaching up to take Panchito’s hand that was on his arm and hold it between them. “And one can be homesick even without a family.”

He chuckled at the confused look Panchito must have been giving him and shook his head gently. “I’m homesick for my beautiful Brazil, meu amigo.”

That was how it started.

Them climbing into each other’s beds when they needed to, talking all about the people, the food and the culture of Brazil as well as all of Panchito’s siblings favorite books, how his parents would dance around the kitchen with one another and how his older brother had taught him to play guitar. They were special moments that Panchito held dear, even when Donald had somehow fallen into the bed with them at times, being tucked behind José and his back warm from Doland’s it was easier for Panchito not to long for home.

It worked even now as Panchito looked at the calendar on his phone, touching the date when he and José would fly to Mexico to visit his family. It was two weeks out and he hadn’t seen them in months, but instead of cry, he turned his phone off and turned to the lovely sleepy parrot in bed with him. He smiled and moved to wrap himself around José, loving the unconscious pleased sound his cariño let out at his touch. He placed his forehead against the nape of José’s neck and took a deep breath in, any sadness he might have felt years ago now quiet because while he was not at home with his parents, he was at home with his amor.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Please may I have a Fullmetal alchemist brotherhood hurt/comfort/angst scenario of when a couple of men basically teased you (Maes Hughes eldest daughter age 15 *she is a metal alchemist like Edward but she is of higher rank and she is Edward's girlfriend*) and told you to smile..but how could you? You lost your Dad to murder and they had the nerve to tell you that..you angrily told them that you lost your Dad a few months ago and you were also not smiling because they were inconsiderate as hell. You didn't care about the reactions from the Elric brothers behind you when you swore *the Elric brothers accompanied you to your father's grave so you could pay your respects to the father that you loved dearly*

How would the Elric brothers comfort you afterwards..you were certainly in a fragile state and who wouldn't be..you lost your Dad and how they reacted to what you said to those men.

https://youtu.be/bTDjnrOiSHY?si=3Quy2LcQLgKeHnIL (how the girl reacted to a bunch of men and what she told them was exactly what you told the men)

Hi! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like the fanfic!

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Characters: Edward Elric x gn! Hughes! Reader

Word Count: 0.4k (485 words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While visiting your father, Maes Hughes’, gravestone, some people start catcalling you. How will you and the Elric brothers who accompanied you for emotional support react to this?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was raining again.

The drops splashed on the stone and ran down the face of the headstone.

Maes Hughes. 1885-1914.

A good man. A dedicated officer. A wonderful friend.

Dad, as you knew him.

You weren’t sure whether it was the remnants of tears or rain that was running down your face. It wasn’t getting easier living without him. Every time you put on your uniform, you couldn’t help but see him in the mirror.

The rain stopped falling on you as an umbrella appeared over you. You felt a hand on your shoulder. Warm. That meant it was Ed.

“We should go. We need to get back to work.”

You nodded, sniffing and wiping your face. “Yeah,” your voice was too soft and you cleared it before trying again, “yeah, let’s go.”

Ed’s hand on your back comforted you as much as it possibly could. You were glad he and Al were there for you.

As you left the cemetery and turned down the street, you heard a commotion from the other side of the road.

“Hey, pretty lady! You wanna ditch the shrimp and the suit of armour and hang out with us?”

Catcallers. Ed’s hand immediately left your back as he whirled around to retort to the comment about his height. You kept walking. You really didn’t want to deal with catcallers right now.

“Come on love! Give us a smile!”

You froze. Even Ed fell silent at that, waiting to see how you would respond.

You turned to face the men before striding across the road towards them. The rain began soaking you, doing nothing to cool the burning anger in your chest. You couldn’t even hear the voice that would normally be telling you to back down from this confrontation.

“I’m not smiling because I’ve just visited my father’s grave!” Your voice grew louder with every word and this time, you could clearly feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, “And I’m not smiling because you’re talking to me!”

The mens’ faces fell faster than the rain around you.

“Sorry for your loss.” The main catcaller’s voice was soft and he looked embarrassed.

 The warm hand returned to your back and you turned towards Ed. Your anger was gone, replaced by a bone deep tiredness.

Ed’s eyes were gentle and filled with sympathy. You could see how much he wanted to ease your pain and how much it was tearing him up not being able to do anything.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

You nodded, letting him guide you back to where Al stood with the umbrella.

As you continued down the street, Ed wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. “You know, I think he’d be proud of how you handled that.”

You felt a tiny smile touch your lips. You could only hope your dad was watching over you and that you’d make him proud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[the-knucklesverse]

Stronger Together

something something the Shatter triplets were yoinked into the Sanctuary somewhere between season two and three of Sonic Prime, and know each other going into the last season. This is playing a little with the actual timeline of things, as our current theory is the ME pulled Dread in after season 1, either immediately before or immediately after getting the shard. But for this piece, they got pulled in after season 2.

This takes place in New Yoke, after everyone begrudgingly came together. ~~ Qwerty

~~~~~

"Ren!"

The voice called out over the noise of the others arguing, and the battle-scarred echidna turned to find his jungle 'brother' hurrying closer. The boy wore an expression of worry, which wasn't all that strange considering his typical nervous demeanor. "Yeah? What's up?"

"It's Dread," the boy said, his voice higher pitched in his worry. "He's . . . something's wrong."

"There's always somethin' wrong with him," Ren scoffed, crossing his arms. "Guy's got a screw loose somewhere."

Gnarly's expression intensified. "Ren. This is serious. He's losing it."

The boy's expression sobered Ren, and he nodded. "Show me."

Gnarly grabbed Ren's hand and pulled, dragging him to where Dread had hidden himself away in a corner. The pirate stood hunched over slightly, hands to his head and muttering to himself under his breath.

"Me Beauty, I must have me Beauty . . . grr . . . no . . . no . . . I be better than that . . . me Beauty be mine, all mine . . ."

"Dread?" Ren's voice was firm but soft. "Talk to me."

Dread shook his head, keeping his back to them. "Get away."

Ren tried again. "Dread, c'mon. You don't need that rock. Look at me."

The pirate shook his head again, curling tighter on himself. "Leave me be. I . . . don't want t' hurt you. I don't want t' hurt anyone."

"Dread, you need to—"

Ren was stopped when Gnarly put a hand on his arm. He shook his head, before moving closer to their eldest 'brother'.

"I know what it feels like," he said, speaking softly as he approached. "That noise in your head. Like a buzzing. A million bees stuck in there, making you feel like you're going crazy."

The trembling in Dread's shoulders stopped, and he turned to look at Gnarly. His eyes were wide, haunted, and his lip curled in a fearful snarl. "Ye . . . h-how do ye know that?"

"I've heard it all my life," Gnarly said with a shrug. "Back in Boscage Maze, I hear the trees. Cyber said it was something about something called chaos energy? I dunno. But I heard it when no one else could. And some days it makes me feel like I'd rip my own skin off just to have some quiet."

Dread straightened very slightly, turning more to face the youngest of their trio. "How do ye stop it? I hear me Beauty call me, even now, and I feel its pull. I want to go and get it, feel the power as it flows through me. But it makes me lose meself. I . . . I don't want to do that. How do I stop it?"

Gnarly shook his head with a sigh. "You can't stop it. You just have to learn to tune it out."

Dread grimaced as though that was the most painful thing he could hear. "How??"

"Focus on the things that are more important. I focus on my tribe. On Mangey and Hangry. My urge to keep them safe is more important than letting that buzzing get to me. That's what you need to do. Focus on what's more important than that rock."

"Nothing be more important than me Beauty!" Dread snapped, his face twisting in anger as he leaned toward the boy. A second later his eyes went wide and he drew back. "I . . . no, that's . . ." He grunted, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Get outta me head, you bloody rock."

"Focus on your crew," Ren said, moving closer. He wanted to be nearby in case Dread snapped and went after Gnarly. "They're your family, right?"

Dread shook his head, his hands still to his eyes. "I betrayed them. They . . . they'd never forgive me."

"Then what about us?" Gnarly said, trying to side-step around Ren, but his urban brother kept himself between them no matter how Gnarly moved. "We're your brothers. We want to see you beat this."

Dread slowly dropped his hands to look at the two echidna before him, a crease in his brow. "Ye . . . ye do?"

The other two nodded. "We do," Ren said, relaxing his stance a bit. "Dread, you're stronger than this. C'mon. Focus on helping us kick that fox's butt and making everything right again."

"That should be easy, for a legendary captain such as yourself, right?" Gnarly asked with a smile.

Dread looked between them for a long moment, before lowering his hands completely. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before a familiar smirk spread across his face.

"Aye," he said, and he sounded stronger. "Plenty easy for the likes of meself. We'll go and show that fox that there ain't nothing that can stop an echidna tribe from saving that which they hold dear."

He moved closer to the other two, and held his fist out.

"Thank ye, lads. I may need yer strength once we get there. But I trust ye completely t' help pull me head outta me own arse should I start t' lose meself."

"Oh, you can bet on that," Ren said with a smirk, joining his fist to Dread's. "It'll be fun to kick your butt. Again."

Dread's eyes narrowed, but his smirk remained. "Oh, is that how you think our last fight ended, aye?"

Ren narrowed his eyes right back. "I know that's how our last fight ended, yeah."

"Okay, let's keep focused here," Gnarly said, adding his fist to the group. "Dread, we'll keep you from going crazy. Ren, you can kick his butt when all this is done."

Dread gasped. "Lad, ye can't believe this lubber's tales?!"

"Kid knows the truth when he hears it."

"LIES!"

Ren and Dread continued to argue as Gnarly walked off, shaking his head with a smile.

[pharaohbean]

roots in the snow

pairing: implied polysquad, but can be read as platonic

summary: "As his feet took him through a dance he knew by heart, having never danced it before, he felt hands—warm, calloused, and yet gentle and careful—take his, joining him in his waltz. Toya slowly peeked his glimmering silver eyes open, letting the tune being played wash over him. He smiled, then continued to sing his very own song out loud."

warnings: my tenses are extremely dubious, no beta we die like nagi

author's note: fhownfkwbf this is my first time posting one of my writings on here!! or anywhere actually. HHH- this fic was entirely born out of hearing blender for the first time, late at night when the leaks first dropped. immediately, i had such a vivid image in my head, and dropped so much (no not everything) to write this. but finally... it is complete. please enjoy!! (read on ao3)

The family summer estate hadn’t changed much since the last time Aoyagi Toya stepped foot within its borders.

The modern space was beautifully decorated, all thanks to his mother and the younger one of his two older brothers if Toya remembered correctly; pieces of music were strategically placed around the rooms, an obvious indication of which family owned the place. The large unlit apartment looked down upon the metropolitan city, the landscape slowly being painted with the sunrise’s soft colors.

The street musician slowly let go of the plastic handle of his suitcase, letting the emptiness of the place softly wash over him like an ocean wave. Dust covered the tops and knobs and just about every surface one could touch. Despite everything, this seemed to be the one place that wasn’t up-kept as well as the rest of the Aoyagi possessions.

Silver stormy eyes glanced around, carefully wandering around the long-abandoned apartment. Why his father continued to hold onto the place was beyond his understanding, but he and his father continued to be just one step apart from each other, even to this day.

Toya took a deep breath, stepping over to the window and gazing out of the window. The street life far underneath were like mere ants, but he quickly looked away, unable to stomach the sight of insignificant people and the drop. The buildings blended together under the brightening sky, slowly gaining their individuality as the city woke up. The boy couldn’t help a faint smile at the memories the sight brought him, and a moment later a newly-birthed tune began to be hummed.

The musician turned back to the apartment, grabbing his suitcase and rolling it into the master bedroom. Setting both his suitcase and carry-on backpack beside the bed, the boy scrounged through the bathroom closest—almost exactly as he’d faintly remembered it—-for cleaning supplies. Grabbing just a couple of dusting clothes to begin with, he began his cleaning mission, beginning with the master bedroom.

The reason Toya had come out to the Aoyagi estate—and so early, too—was to prepare the place for the rest of his partners. The four of them had decided to get away for a week for a time of refreshment and relaxation. Then he’d overheard his mother mentioning the estate, and asked if he could borrow it. Although his father was slightly perturbed at the thought of the four of them running around, his mother and he had restored their relationship quite a bit; the woman was just happy to see the place put to use once more, and she trusted Toya not to let the place get trashed.

Eventually, Toya booked a red-eye flight (courtesy of his mother against his father’s wishes, somehow over the years she’d become a louder voice against his father, or maybe he was just older now?) a day or so earlier than his partners, his schedule set to clean the apartment, buy food for at least the first couple of days, and hopefully have his things unpacked before he had to go pick up his partners from the airport.

As the sun crept higher and higher into the sky, bringing the entire city to life, Toya floated around the apartment, dusting and sweeping and mopping just about every surface he could get his hands on, once in a while breaking his flow to frantically jot something down on his to-do list before he forgot only to then struggle to get back into his original stride.

After the sun had passed the halfway point, Toya finally finished cleaning the entire house—except for one room. A room whose door he hadn’t opened yet, knowing full well the memories that laid buried behind the burden-heavy wooden door. But he’d come to terms with that weight, enough to be able to grab the handle and open the pathway to those memories. ---+---+--- Truthfully, his memories of the Aoyagi summer estate were actually quite bright ones—not necessarily happy, but not dark and stifling like home. Many memories were of time spent with family, often not in the context of music. But, of course, no Aoyagi would bear that name if they didn’t practice, even during vacation.

Lessons with his father were often grueling, sometimes even fearful for the youngest of the three children. Hours poured into one specific song, perfecting every line and string of notes while being lectured on this producer and that reason for creation. Toya had a good memory, a fact well-known to anyone who knew him, but even children can only learn so much before they can't do it any more.

Sometimes he’d fall asleep against his will; a surefire way to end their lessons early. Other times they’d be called by his mother or his siblings to come to the table or go out into the city with them; this worked here and there, depending on his father’s mood and his own attitude. Most times, however, his siblings would barge in and beg their father to let them play, either without Toya or just the two of them or with Toya and perhaps even their father too? Here, the pressure on Toya’s shoulders were lifted slightly, whether it be getting out of practice or dueting, trioing, or quarteting with the rest of his family.

Moments like those were bright, like the rising sun. He’d never been a great sleeper in new places as a kid, so often he wouldn’t sleep well or would wake up before the sunrise. His mother was an early bird, even by early bird standards, and so the two of them would watch the sunrise together; he’d never be forced back to bed, partially because once Toya was up, only extreme sleep deprivation could send him back to dreamland.

Yes, Toya had many bright memories of the Aoyagi estate—not necessarily happy, as many of them were playing on the piano or violin, solo or with his siblings. But they were memories that had shaped Toya into the musician, the street musician, he was today. As painful or dark or lonely as his past may’ve been, it was an undeniable part of who he was.

As long as he had the past, he resolved that special day, he would continue to fight. To take the shackles that he ran away with and turn them into a song worth singing to the world. ---+---+--- Although, Toya mused to himself, it had been quite a while since he’d last seen either of his brothers. Truthfully, the family had stopped using the estate around the same time his brothers had left, off to do their own things in the classical music world.

The musician leaned back in the driver’s seat, taking a deep breath. The memories from his past, bright or dark, were always tiring to ruminate over and examine closely, no matter where he was in life. But every year, his perspective on his past shifted ever so slightly, and every year he seemed to realize new things from things he’d already heard and seen a hundred times before.

Toya glanced at the time, then nodded to himself. His partners’ plane should be landing about now, so it was time he got out of the rental car and headed to them. So he dutifully did so, glancing at the large overhanging signs that he passed by to find the correct terminal (airports were annoying complex, Toya had come to learn, and no two were alike; An once commented that it felt like they made them mazes on purpose) where his partners should be arriving out of.

Toya quietly joined the crowd of people waiting for family and friends and sometimes complete strangers, scanning the throng of arriving passengers for the trio close to him and his heart. Just thinking about them put a soft smile on Toya’s lips. Under his breath, a song sprung to life, just quiet enough to only be heard by Toya himself—or perhaps so quietly that the voice he was hearing was just his mind singing for him?

Finally, after what felt like drawn out hours (but, in reality, just ten minutes) a familiar mop of orange hair appeared in the sea of arrivals, accompanied by two short heads of navy and tan-blonde. Toya reached up for them to see, and three sets of eyes—one caramel-olive, one tangerine-orange, and one chocolate-brown. All three of them smiled in varying intensities, perfect for who they were.

“Toya!” An called out, immediately rushing over to him as he moved away from the anxiously-awaiting relatives of arrivals. He braced himself and yet barely caught the girl as she barreled, partially leapt, right in him. She laughed loudly, the joy in her movements bleeding into her voice, and Toya couldn’t help but laugh quietly with her.

“An, you should let him go before you both go down.” Akito warned, watching the scene with an amused expression. An immediately de-latched a little bit, giving him one big squeeze before fully extracting herself from him. She swiped the offered backpack from Akito’s smug expression, slinging it around her shoulders once more.

“It’s good to see you again, Toya.” Kohane smiled, giving him a brief and quiet hug; he returned the hug just as quietly, hidden messages in her words and actions that he was always grateful to hear. The youngest of the four moved over to An at the latter’s behest, saying something about their bags.

An arm slipped around Toya’s shoulders—carefully and yet with no hesitation whatsoever, a pillar of strength that Toya could rely on—and rely on the pillar he did, immediately physically sinking into Akito’s warmth. He let out a quiet exhale, letting the stress and loneliness of the past day and a half flow off his shoulders. Here, with his partners, was where everything would be okay.

“You doing okay?” Akito murmured, a soft whisper that somehow helped din the voices crowding around Toya’s mind. The silver-eyed musician nodded, bringing himself back up out of the incoming fog. He could relax once he’d gotten the group to the apartment, where everything was all nice and clean and ready for four responsible (enough) people to live in.

(Truthfully, Toya did not prepare the extra bedroom where he and his brothers often slept together when they were younger. The group was notorious for, if they were in the same building together, all being found in the same bed together. If Toya remembers correctly, that was the tipping point for all of them getting new beds… none of their old beds could hold four people.)

“We should go help the girls with your bags.” Toya smiled. Akito rolled his eyes, giving Toya’s shoulder one final squeeze—one final hazing of the silver-eyed performer’s mind—before removing the physical pillar.

“I don’t know what An packs, but it is heavy as f—“ Akito was cut off by a flick to his forehead, causing the gruff musician to scowl as he and his partner trailed after the tail ends of the girls’ wakes. “Hey!”

“Language.” Toya berated with a smile. Despite everything they’d been through, some things just never changed between BAD DOGS. Toya began to sing quietly again, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Akito smile softly—and truly, from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to see Akito genuinely smile more and more.

And so, he’ll keep singing. ---+---+--- The first time Toya used his voice—his voice and voice alone—was one of the last times the Aoyagi family came to their estate. Both of his brothers wanted to go to an art exhibition, and their father and mother humored them (partially out of child satisfaction and partially out of personal interest). Toya, however, always struggled to appreciate the fine arts, and so stayed home alone. Both parents were unphased by this— okay, well, maybe his mother henned him a little.

The house was empty, the piano sitting untouched for the last few hours. And yet, Toya remembered vividly, the haunting sounds of the piano echoed throughout the lifeless house—lifeless because at that time, Toya wouldn’t have considered himself “alive” at that time. He was living, yes, but not truly alive under the hand of his father.

Back then, Toya was still trying to figure out where in life he wanted to go. Did he want to pursue music still, or branch out and find a new path in life? Well, the latter option was growing slimmer and slimmer as he got rid of option after option. He wanted to continue his path in music, but classical made him more and more nauseous—emotionally, mentally and physically.

Tsukasa-senpai had recommended more carnival, musical-like songs than he could ever hope to get through, and Saki-san had eagerly given him a number of band songs, both rock and a weird mix of rock and pop. Although Toya enjoyed both genres, he just didn’t click with the music given to him.

And then, a song he wasn’t expecting came on. Flipping back to the music video, he’d accidentally left the autoplay on. But immediately, the music hit hard and deep, reverberating in his bones. He remembers his eyes widening and his voice yearning like never before, begging to be freed and allowed to sing aloud.

That was the first song he’d replayed in his dive into music. He sang along, learning and teaching himself how to sing over and over again. Although he’d go on to learn other songs—sing other songs—during and after this trip, his voice hidden from his parents, this one song he’d hold close to his heart and one of the first he’d sang; no matter when and where, he’d sing that song first, always refining and perfecting the song that changed his life.

That song would continue to change his life, although he didn’t know it at the time—for that song he’d found accidentally, Fragile, would go on to be the song that brought Akito and Toya together. ---+---+--- Toya sighed, glancing out the window. The book he was holding had been taken from him at some point during his reminiscence of the past. He sighed quietly, why was he thinking about his history so much? Was the estate bringing up these old memories to the surface of his mind?

“Toya?” A robotic voice broke him out of his thoughts, startling the musician. He looked down at his phone sitting innocently on the table. MEIKO and KAITO were both there, looking at him with a worried glint— ah. Right. Now Toya remembered. He and KAITO had agreed to spend time in silence, Toya with his book and KAITO with his own music. MEIKO must’ve shown up recently without Toya realizing.

“MEIKO, KAITO.” Toya smiled softly. “Is everything alright?”

“I’ve been calling you for a while.” MEIKO smiled back, although still concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m… alright.” Toya decided. “Just thinking a lot.” He glanced around. “Actually, where’s my book?”

KAITO and MEIKO glanced at each other, then began chuckling. “Akito tried to speak to you earlier, but seemed to realize he couldn’t snap you out of your thoughts. He took the book from your hands and went to the kitchen.” MEIKO explained. Toya flushed brightly, covering his mouth with his hand and looking back out the window. Seriously… Akito was too good for him.

“I just came in here to check in on you and the others, but it seems you’re all doing well. I think I’ll go talk to the girls now—KAITO, would you like to join me?” MEIKO asked. The blue-haired VIRTUAL SINGER shook his head.

“I’ve got to go give the twins this demo back and teach them some more. Thank you for your time. Toya!” KAITO nodded to the silver-eyed musician, who nodded back and said his goodbyes to the contrasting duo.

Toya watched his phone dim, then stared at it absently as his thoughts broke through the mental dam. A storm of thoughts encircled his emotions, growing darker and darker as the seconds rushed by. Toya tried to push them back, knowing full-well this tsunami of emotions wasn’t good for him or those around him, but felt himself slowly being dragged under the sea of dangerous thoughts; slowly, he felt himself unable to tread water, losing the ability to care.

And then a hand grabbed the top of his head. The hand yanked him up a bit, making the composer hiss as he reoriented himself to reality. A quiet murmur replied, the hand stroking his hair now. Toya sighed quietly, melting into the touch.

“You alright?” He felt Akito’s presence settle beside him on the seat’s armrest. “Anything I can do?” Toya smiled, leaning into Akito’s side.

“This is enough.” Toya replied, the storm in his mind already settling to calm seas once more. He felt Akito hum in reply, and then the hum turned into a song. Toya melted even further into Akito’s touch, feeling the familiar fog creep into his mind and quiet everything around him. The fog wasn’t new in his life but not necessarily old—an outcome of the full trust he put in Akito, trust so deep and true that he gave Akito his life, his body, his very function of thought over to his partner. Akito could give it back and Toya could ask for it back, but Toya didn’t want it back right now.

That familiar feeling swelled up in his bones, the feeling he’d experienced when Toya sang for the first time. He grabbed onto the few dangling pieces of his coherency and sang out with Akito, their voices mixing together to create a lullaby capable of sending Toya into a deep fog, lethargy cradling his body gently and safety encasing his mind. The last coherent thought Toya had was— ---+---+--- His mother was not a musician like the rest of the Aoyagis. How she and her husband had gotten together—heck, how they’d managed to even stay together!—Toya will never know. But one specific memory he has of staying at the estate was long before he considered running away and rebelling, seeking out a new path in life. The memories are foggy from age, but he remembered the key notes well enough: his brothers playing an upbeat melody on the piano together, his father accompanying them on the violin; his mother grabbing his small hands and smiling at him, asking him to dance with her. He remembers dancing joyously with her, laughing and giggling alongside her and his brothers, and seeing his father smile.

Just like a song, the notes faded from his ears, and the brightness of the memory dimmed from his mind. His brothers moved away, his father’s grip tightened on his chains, and his hands couldn’t reach for his mother anymore. But as the light of the past dimmed, just like the next song in a playlist or the next season in a show, another light appeared from behind him. He closed his eyes, letting the melody of brighter, happier days wash over him—days of dark streets, singing his heart out. Alone, then with one partner, then with three; as time flew past his eyes, he felt his feet beginning to move, to take him through the waltz of life. He heard the tune that materialized his feelings of moving forward, picking up his broken shackles and turning them into a song; he heard the song he’d written with his own two hands, the song that his partners had heard and immediately wanted to sing, experiencing that burning passion that Toya felt the day he discovered the tip of street music. The soft melody with the soft lyrics, conveying emotions unable to be conveyed through words.

As his feet took him through a dance he knew by heart, having never danced it before, he felt hands—warm, calloused, and yet gentle and careful—take his, joining him in his waltz. Toya slowly peeked his glimmering silver eyes open—

—letting the tune being played wash over him. He smiled at Akito, then continued to sing his very own song out loud. They let go, and he noticed An and Kohane beside him, smiling at him; from Kohane’s phone, MEIKO joined them in their song.

Kohane sung her line, soon joined by Akito in harmony. Then, MEIKO sang, followed by An, followed by Akito, before the group harmonized out of their intro. Toya sang again, taking a few dance steps with Kohane as she sang, then splitting from her to dance in step with Akito as his lines came on. He split off from him as well, singing by himself before Akito and An came up from behind him. MEIKO took her lines, accompanied by Kohane and Akito, before the latter two and An took each others’ hands and sang proudly, smiles on their faces.

Toya smiled alongside them, then reached for Akito; his partner took his hands, leading them back into their dance. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see An and Kohane dancing alongside them. As MEIKO took her lines again, the group partially split from their partners for the previous trio to sing again. Then Akito pulled Toya back in, easily taking the lead between the two of them while also allowing Toya his mind intact. Kohane sung after the boys, Akito backing her at the end, letting Toya glide away from him as he sung his lines; he sang from the bottom of his heart, letting his feelings overtake his voice to properly convey everything he’d put into lyrics, into this song. Beside him, he felt his partners come to his side, preparing themselves for the chorus.

Akito and Toya took the lead, MEIKO singing alongside them, before the VIRTUAL SINGER dropped out and let the two girls take her place. Toya smiled, dancing in perfect sync with his partners, a rehearsed portion of their song blending its way with the unrehearsed waltzes; the feeling of needing to sing bubbled its way to Toya’s voice, and the musician couldn’t help but sing louder and prouder, and couldn’t help but smile wider when he heard his partners match his power and fire.

An stepped forward, taking her line. Toya followed with his own line, and MEIKO after him; the group laced their hands together, bringing them up to shoulder-height and smiling at one another as they sang in unison. An sung again, and Toya too; Kohane and MEIKO took the last line together. An slid behind Toya, vocalizing her background harmonies as she placed her hands on his shoulders, the swaying touch telling him you’re here and we’re together forever. Akito sang loud and proud, his hand grabbing one of Toya’s and the look in his eyes telling Toya I’m proud and want to stand by you forever. Kohane took his other hand as her voice sang out her line, her eyes conveying to the silver-eyed musician I’m grateful to have you by my side, now and forever. Toya closed his eyes, unable to keep his emotions—both the dark and oppressing and the bright and joyful—from overflowing from his voice and tears as he sang the last line. An’s voice echoed over him as the others, one by one, joined with her in ending the song. The notes of the song drifted off, before finally leaving the apartment in silence.

The four of them stood there in silence, simply hugging each other as they let the intensity of the moment slowly drift into calm waters once more. Toya took a deep breath before spinning on his heel, startling all three of them, then gathering them into a tight hug. There was a squeak from Kohane and a grunt from Akito, but An was the first to hug back, laughing joyously into his ears. Kohane soon followed, then joined by Akito and finally Toya himself. And if anyone noticed the tears streaming down Toya’s face—happy, joyous, bright tears, tears that told his partners what his melody and lyrics could not—they didn’t say anything, simply holding onto each other as if the boat they were in was due to sink at any moment.

The last thought Toya had before the fog that often lingered around Akito faded into his head once again, bringing a new wave of tears with it. His past had shackled him, weighed him down for years, but with his partners by his side, he was able to not only remove the shackles on him, but was able to pick them up again, turning them into a song full of life and emotion. A song that he could sing with pride and with people he truly cared for and trusted.

And here, it was here, in their arms, Toya knew without the shadow of a doubt—with their voices, together as one in harmony, he would never be alone.

[room-of-torture]

Think you’re the first? (Part 2)

“Do not forget little brother that I can still kick yer ass.” Raphael remarked while his large, muscular arm was wrapped around Mikey’s neck. Head locking him as they walked together.

Mikey struggled but elbowed his brother to let him go. Chuckling with a lopsided grin. “And don’t YOU forget big bro, that I am the fastest one in the group an’ I can still get away from your headlock!!” He stepped on Raphael’s foot, making his brother loosen his grip to help him slip out.

Raph grunted but grinned that his little brother managed to escape. “Bitch.”

“You the bitc-”

“Goodmorning Gentlemen”

Sam interrupted calmly with a deadpan expression. As she usually did since this brotherly interaction was nothing new to her, especially from Michaelangelo and Raphael. Infact, at times their relationship reminded her much of her own interactions with her and her own brothers. Insults and roughhousing.

It was all in good fun and never nothing personal.

The two quickly straighten up at being surprised by Sam’s sudden presence. Mostly Mikey did, as the familiar voice made the orange masked turtle perk up with excitement. Getting to see her out of her stuffy office “And a very Goodmorning to you too Sammy!” He said brightly. His voice might’ve been higher then how he wanted it to be so he quickly coughed to clear his throat. Deepening his voice on purpose. “I mean, Goodmorning Sam.”

Sam couldn’t help but raise a brow and smile at Mikey.

While Raphael rolled his eyes but quickly smiled at his younger brother’s attempt to hide his excitement at seeing Sam. Knowing 1000% the bozo had been thinking about her all morning.

Turning his attention back on the said tall brunette, Raph raised his head in a nod. “Yo”

Sam glanced over to the red wearing turtle and bowed her head to return said greeting. Looking down at the folder she held in her hand and flipping it open. “As you know-we are having a small dinner party with a few important guests later this week. Me and Gabriel convinced my Uncle to add some of your and your brothers’s favorite dished to the menu so we can accommodate everyone’s tastes.”

The tall woman pulled a pen out that was slipped into her dress shirt pocket and scribbled something in the folder she held. “I want you boys to be comfortable and not deal with food you dislike while having this important meeting. That would be unfair, wouldn’t it?”

“Coo. Ya know tha deal, Boss. You n’ Gabe already know what I like n’ how I like it.” Raph nodded in agreement. “…Thanks.” One of the few times he agreed with Sam, was when she considered his and his brother’s wants and needs as well. Not leaving anyone out, nor focusing on just one person to kiss ass to. Actually, she didn’t kiss anyone’s ass for that matter nor did she treat others differently based on status and that was something he quietly respected of her.

He couldn’t say the same to Ol’ Headass. He didn’t give fuck about him and his brothers. He treated them as they were beneath him always even if the old fuck said out loud that he “Cared for them”. No, he didn’t. It was always just business, money and power with that asshole.

Sam nodded and wrote in Raph’s Skillet Garlic butter steak and shrimp usual on a side sheet. “Very well.” Pointing the end side of her pen towards Mikey. “The usual for you as well Michelangelo? Honey bbq Baby back ribs with a side of crab mac and cheese?” Her brown eyes raised from her folder to look at the turtle for his answer.

Noting the soft and warm look in his eyes as he stared at her. The brunette immediately averted her gaze and ignored the heat that colored her cheeks lightly to try and focus on her task.

Mikey noticed this and his smile grew more. Taking a step closer to Sam as he leaned forward. “You got it.” He did a look around them to make sure the coast was clear before giving the brunette a quick wink. “You know us best, Boss! You know exactly what I like in my mouth…I can’t wait.” A slow grin spread across his lips.

“…Right.” Sam cleared her throat as she did her best not to out loud react to the turtle’s bold flirting. Glaring at him at bit as he quietly chuckled.

Though Mikey and her had a hidden relationship, there were times where this asshat could slip in a tease or two when out of public. They always caught her off guard when she didn’t expect them.

Sam finished writing in their dish preferences and shut the folder closed. Settling it under her arm at her side before bowing her head once more towards the turtles. “Thank you, I will let Gabriel know right away.” She said with a straight expression.

After the large terrapin’s said their Thanks once more, the brunette walked around the behemoth turtles and began to walk away. Remembering something she immediately stopped in her tracks. Clearing her throat once more. “Pussy whisperer, hm?”

The two mutant brothers froze in place from taking another step. Taking a moment to let sink in what Sam said, Raphael was the first to glance back with a surprised look on his face. Quickly hiding it with a fake confused expression since the brunette kept her back to them. “Wha? What tha fuck is th-“

“A feral cat, eh?” Sam once again interrupted. The corners of her lips perked up as they curved into a smile and she kept her dark eyes forward towards the hallway. Moving her head side to side, in a way agreeing with half that statement. “Feral…I suppose yes but, cat? I’m not sure about that one, boys.”

Raph and Mikey were silent now. The smiles they had were long gone now. Mikey’s eyes were wide when he realized that Sam somehow had heard that conversation he and Raph had from a few days ago….They were in trouble weren’t they?

Oh shit.

Michaelangelo slowly turned to look back at Sam who stood not too far from them. Not looking directly at them as she spoke. His Sam, the oddly calm one who hardly reacted to things but when she was mad she didn’t hold her tongue back.

Boy, she really waited when it was just the two of them and her to strike. Took her time and was oddly calm with it. She was beautiful as she was scary!

Sam brushed long strands of her dark, almost black, hair from her face and moved them behind her ear. “I’ve been here longer before you boys were brought here. You aren’t the first to have been around with…the women around here.” She finally turned slightly to the side and gave them a sharp glance. Smile still present. “I may not be the last but-“ The brunette’s eyes narrowed when her smile grew. “-you certainly aren’t the first.”

Turning a little more to face the turtles, she was quietly amused by their wide eyed stares. Mostly by Michelangelo’s, whom is quick witted and was all flirtatious just a minute ago.

Fascinating what few words can shift someone’s mood real quick.

Thinking of her words carefully and licking her dry lips. “Listen closely from someone with better experience with Satisfying women…Just words alone won’t please and make a ‘feral pussy’ happy-Actions do. So shut your yaps y pongase a trabajar. Especialmente esa boca tuya, como me dijiste tortuga.” Her eyes glanced towards Michelangelo and this time, she was the one to give him a wink.

The brunette hummed smoothly before turning back to the direction she was heading and walked away. Making a bit of a show by swaying her hips, mainly for Mikey’s eyes only, until she was out of sight.

Time to tell the girls. Sam chuckled to herself.

Mikey blinked a few times as he repeated Sam’s words over and over in his head. Though she went after the both of them, those last words were directly thrown at him. God that smile of hers…that wink she threw back him and the fucking sway of her hips could’ve had him running and pouncing her if they weren’t out in public eye.

Raphael had also watched the tall woman walked away out of view before glancing slowly over to his brother. A grin appeared on his scar lips as he nuged him with a elbow. “Luckily she didn’t cut our dicks off but-“ He glanced toward the hallway again while rubbing his chin. “-it seems like we got our work cut out fer us, Mike. She told us ta get better or shut up.” He laughed once more.

At times he forgot Sam was here before them. Some of the women he himself has been with has spoken their experiences with her and they were never bad ones. Some says she was very disrespectful-but in a very pleasant way.

Well excuse the fuck out of him and excuse her for jabbing at him like that. He knew his shit too. The fuck!

Fully turning to Mikey whom was still frozen in place and nudged him once more. Trying to snap him out of his trance. “Translate fer me romeo, I got the first sentence as ‘get down to work’ but what did she say in tha second?” Raphael asked curiously.

Almost forgetting his older brother was next to him for a moment. Michelangelo swallowed thickly before parting his lips. “She said…’Especially that mouth of yours, as you said to me.’” He answered, not removing his eyes from the now empty hallway. He was about ready to lock himself in his room for the rest of the day.

He needed some privacy asap!

Raph let out a laugh while patting his baby brother’s shell. He was throughly amused by the whole situation now that it ended. Truthfully he wasn’t scared of what would’ve happened to him if he was in trouble. More like, sucks we got caught but it’s whatever type of situation.

But the larger terrapin couldn’t help but be tickled at his younger brother’s position. Not a scent of worry now but something devilish replaced it. Boy was horny now! HA! Who was horn-dog now, bozo! “Best cool it off first before ya rub one off, bro.” He chuckled.

Mikey groaned before rubbing his hands over his face. “Broooo, shut uuuup.” He muffled out a whine, embarrassed that his brother knew. Damn our fucking strong mutant sniffers!

End.

[bread-elf]

DWC Nov. '22 - Day 2

Orbit - Illusion The temperature is higher today than the past few days, and the snow is gone for the time being. The soft rays of the sun light a path through the forests of Grizzly Hills, and Zim’bowa nestles so cozy that he almost feels like he’s back home in the Hinterlands. The subtle chill almost feels like the crisp air coming in from the ocean breeze, the Revantusk troll remembering such from his home at the port village. Lounging under a tree much like this, eyes drifting closed as he allows himself to relish in the illusion.

Hunters hunt, and fishermen fish. Women of his tribe taking care of commodities and cooking, and children are raised to thrive. Elders of his tribe giving counsel to the young, and the young persevere to take care of the elderly. A delicate balance that everyone has a part to play. She’s there, somewhere. Probably at her weaving loom, or working on his cards- no, her cards. Her child is here too, her son, lounging with him. Not interested in fighting with spear or axe, but interested in the earth, in the plants and the roots, and how Zim’bowa can make medicine out of them. But together they rest, glancing up at the sky to watch the clouds roll by. He can feel the child resting against his chest, used like a large pillow as they drift to sleep. But Zim’bowa’s conscious rouses instead, the weight on his chest physical and very much real.

A child is there, but not the one he once knew. A daughter of a different friend, Kaldorei with silver hair and brimming eyes of moonlight. Anorah lays on her side, at an angle as she rests the side of her face on the forest troll’s chest. Not asleep, but interested in the moss covering the troll’s fur, a small hand delicately touching a beetle that must have found its way onto him. It doesn’t bother him, the bug nor her, but her eyes are drawn to his face as the large troll starts to shift. “How long ya’ been dere?” Zim’bowa asks of the young night elf, his voice feeling raspy from the sleep he took. “I’unno.” Anorah responds, resting her head back down again. “Ya’ Min’da not gonna be likin’ ya’ runnin’ off. Lemme sit-” He brings a hand over to help guide her up before he himself moves. Leaves fall and shift off of him, tufts of fiery orange hair nearly dipping into his eyes, but he smooths it all back with a hand. Zim’bowa turns his tusked head to check for his belongings, finding his traveling satchel and Rush’kah mask where he left it. His companion, a chicken named Pepito, seems to be nowhere in sight. “Ya’ seen Pepito?” “Yea, with Vaeren.” Mentioning her brother, a twin in fact, who Zim’bowa learned had an affinity towards animals. Though he wishes the boy wasn’t so fond of Pepito in particular. “Anta’nar, can you tell me more stories?” Referring to him as an uncle, the child linguistic at such a young age. “Dat what’chu been layin’ around waitin’ for? I just woke up.” His large encompasses the entirety of the top of her head, mussing up her hair. “Ow! My hair!” He doesn’t believe she’s in genuine pain by the way she giggles and pulls away. Footsteps are heard, like a saber carefully treading through fallen leaves that delicately crush beneath feet, but Zim’bowa is familiar with the prowling that’s coming towards them. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” Jiroki finds her daughter with the troll, sea green hair pulled back as she places her hands on her hips, midnight eyes ever intense even when not meant to be. Despite the physical differences, sometimes Jiroki reminded him of her. “You’ve been loitering here for a week now.” “I can’t help it!” Zim’bowa begins, which causes the woman to immediately roll her eyes as he gets up. “Ya’ just got dis- orbit to ya’, not just joo but ya’ family! I’m just drawn, nowhere else ta go! My only family!” “Oh cut it out.” Jiroki doesn’t buy it, already tired of his theatrics, glancing towards Anorah for a moment as the child gets up too. But the woman sighs, dealing with her vice as she’s unable to truly turn him away. “Tch. Jason should be back soon, hopefully with rabbits. Help me prep them for dinner.”

Zim’bowa successfully succeeded in weaseling his way for a free meal again, but his glee is subdued as a smaller head of sea green hair bounds on over. “Zim!” Vaeren is nearly the spitting image of his mother, besides the orbs of amber he has for eyes. He looks emotionally pained, cradling a chicken in his arms. The creature still, face tucked into the warmth of Vaeren’s chest, and the boy moves closer towards the troll. “I don't think Pepito is feeling good…” “Ooh…” Zim’bowa knew better, slowly going down into a squat as the boy gets closer. Already a long time companion as is, at the end of the day, Pepito has the body of an animal. “He just be tired… Pepito is gettin’ old. I don’t think he gonna be havin’ much time left.” “Time?” The boy is young, but old enough to be able to grasp the concept of death, yet still it pained Zim’bowa to see the boy so moved. “B-But… But what do you mean? Pepito isn’t old! Is she?” Anorah herself the same age, yet she doesn’t seem ready to comprehend such things, a concerned but confused expression on her face as she looks to her mother for guidance.

Oh Zim’bowa can just feel the daggers boring into him from Jiroki. Daring to give a quick glance, only to see those abysmal eyes cast judgment on him, eyes she must have slaughtered with when the anger of her people was fresh. Take responsibility he practically hears her say, or maybe it’s just the softest of whispers from a lingering spirit. He stands again, grabbing his things and letting Vaeren hold the dying chicken as he prepares to walk with the boy back towards the cabin. “Pepito is old for a chicken. Let’s go back home an’ get him warm; I’ll explain dere.” @daily-writing-challenge

[fkinavocado]

In which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them.

Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

Chapter 24 / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 25 (Word count: 5.6k)- posted 7th August

Keeping your gaze locked to his, you let go of the keychain, letting it slip from both your hands and having them come together in result. Harry swallowed thickly, a crease in his brows as he was straining to keep his composure. You could see his eyes glaze over instantaneously, your own vision going blurry. 

You squeezed his hand gently, as if to assure yourself that he was really there, that this was really happening and in response, he tugged on your hand enough for you to be standing chest to chest, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, but yours were quicker to give way. You could feel one fall, then another, and Harry furrowed his brows even further watching them make their way slowly towards the corners of your mouth.

He carefully brought his other hand to the side of your face, and ever so gently thumbed at the tear rolling down your left cheek, catching it just before it made it to its destination, the swipe of his thumb at the corner of your mouth causing you lips to part slightly. He kept his eyes on your mouth, his damp thumb caressing the apple of your cheek before making its way back to your lower lip, brushing his pad against the soft flesh and tugging at it downwards a bit more, forcing you to close your eyes, and effectively spilling more tears over your cheeks.

When you blinked your wet lashes open, his own tears had finally given way as well and his eyes were back on yours. His hand ghosted over your jawline and down the side of your neck, his knuckles barely touching your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He splayed his fingers over your clavicles, and finally slightly downwards, just overtop of your rapidly beating heart, pressing his palm steadily over your skin. 

You squeezed his hand you were still holding tightly even harder, and he tenderly rubbed his palm against your neckline before ever so gently allowing his fingers to close around your neck, his large hand almost encompassing it completely. He didn’t apply any bit of pressure, he just held his hand there around your throat, staring at you intensely while both of you were silently crying still. 

You were panting heavily by now, even though he wasn’t constricting your airflow in the slightest, but the intensity of the moment was almost unbearable. You began to feel yourself tremble slightly and you had to close your eyes to try and compose yourself a bit. Harry then pressed his fingers into your pressure points faintly making you gasp and immediately open your eyes back up to meet his. 

“Want to feel your heartbeat” his low, husky voice broke the silence, his face contorting as if in pain “...How can your heart be beating when you’re dead?”

You gasped confusedly, your voice coming out hoarse “...Harry?”

He shook his head “I mourned you like you were dead. Felt like you’d died. Was the only way I could make sense of what I was feeling. Of the way life had… ripped you away from me like that” he flared his nostrils, shuddering and closing his eyes tightly, tears spilling from between his long lashes, and his hand closing in a bit tighter around your throat.

Your silent crying turned into shaky sobs, your whole body shaking with the force of the pain running through you. You let go of his hand and brought both of yours over the wrist of his other “I wish I’d died. I'd rather have died than do what I did. What I had to do” your voice was barely a whisper, strained and higher pitched than normal, and his eyes darted open at your words

His pained expression morphed into one of disgust almost, gritting his teeth and scrunching his nose as he whispered back “I wish you’d died, too. So that I could forgive you. Forgive God, or fate, or whatever the hell brought you into my life just to steal you away just… like… that…” he punctuated his last venom filled words by squeezing harshly around your throat. He let go after a moment, but it’d been enough for you to feel like you were about to black out. When you opened your eyes back, he brought both his hands to cradle the sides of your face, carding his fingers firmly into your hair and you clung onto both his wrists, not to stop him, but to feel him. You wanted to get consumed by him.

He rested his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes whilst breathing heavily “You should go. Talk in the morning. This is not how… I can’t control-- I’m so angry at you. Too angry”

“I’m not scared of you!” you carded your own hands into his hair, tugging at the roots to make him open his eyes “You could never hurt me. I don’t care what you do and who you fight and why. You’re just… punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault. Trying to feel like you deserve what happened to you. To make sense of all of it. But that’s not who you are” you pulled at his hair tighter earning a wounded groan from him, but you knew his pain wasn’t physical. 

You pulled your face away slightly so you could look at him better “I’m not dead but I’m not alive either. I feel like I’m finally breathing for the first time since I left” you inhaled sharply “Make me feel alive, Harry”. His eyes widened, and he looked at you almost as if he was scared of what you were telling him “Even if it’s just for tonight. Even if you hate me”

“I don’t hate you” he shook his head, almost as if to remind himself of it

“You should. I deserve it. I want you to hate me. Want to feel it. Want to feel punished, too. And I want it to come from you” you pressed yourself flush to him then, whispering “Fuck me like you hate me”

He took a step back, his pained, scared expression breaking your heart “Stop. It’s not… let’s just talk in the morning, when we’re both clear headed”

“I don’t want to be clear headed. I don’t want to face you sober. I’m too scared for that. I’m too much of a coward, I can’t take it. I’ll run. I know I will”

“--No. Don’t. Please” he grabbed your wrists in between the two of you, his eyes pleading 

“Then, please, Harry. I’ll never ask anything of you again”

He searched your eyes, his resolve crumbling “You’ll stay? To talk?”

I gulped and nodded frantically “If you still feel like there’s something left you want to say in the morning. I will. But for now, I need you to talk to me… using your body”

His eyes shut tightly at that and you realized you’d told him something similar once before. When he opened them again, you could hardly see any green left in them anymore. His pupils were extremely dilated, something had visibly switched within him. With a grunt, he pushed you onto the bed, letting go of your wrists harshly. The room was small enough and the bed was right next to the door. He kicked the door shut, finally, and stared down at you splayed on the edge of the bed before him, his naked chest heaving, and his hands flexing into fists. He was only in his boxers, he’d clearly intended to go right to sleep, probably as worn out as you were. 

But not anymore. You were both buzzing. The room was filled with static waiting to ignite between you, you could almost hear it. His cock was straining against his boxers and you could  have sworn it was bigger than you’d remembered. Either that, or his frame was leaner, making it stand out even more comparatively to his tiny waist. Harry had never been overwhelmingly muscly, but he had always been pretty buff. He was now much leaner. Such as yourself. You’d lost quite a bit of weight in the past 17 months apart. Your curves he’d so loved were barely there anymore. 

You started wondering if he would even find you attractive anymore but he cut your train of thought, picking your left ankle and flipping you over to your belly whilst simultaneously pushing you upward on the bed. He dug his fingers into the waist of your pants, yanking them down your legs harshly along with your underwear. You heard him fumble with his own boxers, and then he quickly straddled the back of your thighs, pinning you in place. 

He grabbed your asscheeks, kneading the much supler flesh in his large hands, and spreading you open to him. You were embarrassingly wet. You were an emotional mess, but somehow your body had responded as it usually did to his presence. In spite of everything he’d said, in spite of the severity of the moment. “”This what you wanted, Y/N? To fuck you like I hate you? Or worse-- fuck you like you mean nothing to me? You told me to use my body to tell you what I felt”

His icy words hit you like a knife in the back. He leaned over and fisted your hair, lifting your upper body off the mattress and making you arch your back “Fuck you like a whore I couldn’t give a shit about. Like any common waitress I’d come across, whose name I couldn’t even remember? Hm? This is how I fucked them, wouldn’t even wanna see their faces. ‘Cause I couldn’t pretend it was you, if I did. And I needed to fuck them like I hated them, like I hated you”

You yelped, he was tugging at your roots quite hard and his venomous words were truly making you wish you hadn’t asked for this. You weren’t sure anymore that you could take it. 

“No words, you said. Ok. Just my body then. Always running away from talking. Even now. Never once occurred to you to talk to me before you blew my life to shit” he spat, letting go of your hair, the tension making you plop harshly back onto your front “Could’ve at least written a damn letter. Guess I didn’t deserve the courtesy. Better to have me think you’d been abducted, raped, murdered in a ditch somewhere. Until your darling friend told me ever so nonchalantly that you simply didn’t wish to see me anymore. Just like that” he barked a humourless laugh and you were shaking now from the force of your sobs. 

“Shhhh, don’t cry, I’ll stop using my words and start using my body. Just like you wanted. Fuck you like I hate you? I can do that. I’ve been doing that, like I was saying. Done this plenty of times before, guess I was rehearsing for the real deal. I’d take it out on these women, and Christ, Y/N, they loved it” he ignored your intensifying sobs, grabbing your hands and pinning them behind your back, his hard cock resting between your asscheeks now, just a nudge and he’d impale you and you were bracing yourself for it “I’d spank them, pull their hair, fuck their faces, choke them, degrade them, tie them up- you name it. I never once cared to get them off, but they’d come so violently, my name on their lips over and over. But lord knows you don’t deserve to, do you? So I won’t do any of that”

He pulled away, kneeling on each side of your calves and pulled your back flush against his chest, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear “No, you’ll have to eat your words now darling and endure all I have to tell you using my body. Just like you asked for. And you’ll be a good girl and take it, won’t you?”

You reluctantly nodded, tears rolling down your face while he pushed your top off of you and unclasped your bra, and you braced yourself, your body going all tense. You wanted this, and as long as he stopped using his words to tell you how much he hated you, you knew you could take it. You doubted you’d be able to hold off your orgasm though, in spite of everything, your body was oblivious to the harsh things he was telling you. It just recognized the sound of his voice and responded to his dominant demeanour. You were dripping for him even though your heart was bleeding.

“Ready?” his harsh voice threatened, your last chance to back out of this but all you did was whine needily and his hands went to your front. You half expected him to choke you but his hands landed on the sides of your breasts, his fingertips ghosting the skin there as his lips made their way back against your ear, whispering softly “Let me show you exactly how I feel. Nowhere to run now”

The tone of his voice and change in demeanour was confusing you, but you told yourself this was probably the quiet before the storm.

He began kissing down your neck, wet open mouthed kisses and his hands finally palmed your breasts, caressing them delicately, sensually. You mewled, your body going limp against his. He let one of his hands trail further down your body as he licked over the shell of your ear and when he finally dragged a finger between your wet folds he pushed his tongue slightly into your ear making you cry out in pleasure “Shhhh” he quickly cooed into your ear while he sucked on your lobe, bringing his wet digit to your neglected breast and smearing your arousal over your nipple

“Aaaaah! Harry!”

He pushed you back onto your front again, much gentler this time, and hunched over you, kissing your shoulder blades, then down your spine, and finally making you arch your back enough to grant him access to your weeping core, shoving his face tongue first against your pussy. 

You were so confused by what he was doing, your body tense waiting for him to slam into you without preamble, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry, lapping at your cunt slowly, deliberately, moaning against you and making you almost black out from the intensity of it all. He licked long, slow stripes up to your asshole and back down to your clit and your tears weren’t subsiding. 

He then grabbed your hips and flipped you over again, having you face him and he licked at you a little longer like that before bringing himself up to face you, his arms cradling either side of you. You couldn’t calm down, your sobs silent but steady and he looked over your face with his sad eyes making it even harder. He was supposed to be angry. He was supposed to take it out on you physically, fuck you raw and hard and exorcise all his deamons through you. What was he doing?

He finally lowered himself closer, his chest flush against yours and his throbbing cock against your lower belly, then closed his eyes, running the tip of his nose over the slopes of your face, his own tears glinting from beneath his lashes. You couldn’t tell if the wetness you felt was your arousal he’d gotten all over his face or your tears, or his, or all of these combined.

“Harry… what are you doing?” you whispered shakily

“I’m showing you how I feel using my body” he murmured

“But…”

“Shhh. You wanted this” he kissed the lone tears rolling down each side of your face, then your jaw, then your eyebrows, eyelids, nose and finally, finally, his lips ghosted yours ever so slightly, before he finally kissed the corner of your mouth, making his way inwards, pulling your bottom lip between his. You moaned into his mouth and he deepened the kiss, his tongue caressing yours in slow, draw-out strokes, having to break apart for air since crying had clogged both your noses slightly. 

Still licking into your mouth, he ran his hands up and down your body, slowly making his way towards your thighs and pressing them back a bit, making you gasp in anticipation against his mouth. You felt him nudge at your entrance, he was so hard he didn’t need any guidance, and you finally allowed yourself to put your hands around his neck, pulling him closer into you. At last, he eased himself inside you, the both of you crying out in unison.

You were still expecting him to pick up the pace after he agonisingly slowly bottomed out, but he just kept sliding in and out of you slowly, ever so slowly, making you feel all of him, and so, so full. 

It hadn’t been deliberate, lord knows you actually tried for the sake of your sanity to have sex with other people but you just could never get through with it. You’d not been touched like this in so long and you were going to come faster than ever. He was nudging right against your sweet spot, making sure he got the angle just right every single time.

You couldn’t believe how incredible it felt. How incredible he felt. Had it always been this good? You couldn’t even tell anymore. It felt like a lifetime ago that you were last intimate. And also, somehow, like no time had passed at all.

You felt your walls starting to flutter around him and he hummed “Are you going to come, sweetheart?”

The term of endearment almost made you let go “Yes, god yes!”

“You can’t come. Not unless you tell me”

You whimpered pathetically “What… tell you what?!”

“Tell me what my body is telling you right now”

Your throat closed in, and you choked out a sob. He picked up the pace ever so slightly, enough to make you throw your head back in pleasure, and he kissed down your throat, his strong arms encircling your waist tightly and arching your back off the mattress “Wanna hear you say it”

“I can’t!” you cried out

“You will, otherwise I will, and you don’t want me to use my words, remember?” he mumbled against your skin, struggling to keep a steady pace and occasionally pushing extra deep inside of you

“Harry…”

“You can’t run from it, Y/N. You don’t get to decide what I feel anymore. This is me telling you exactly how I feel. Exactly what I want” he grunted, grinding himself against you making sure your clit was stimulated as well and you were seeing stars, there was no way you could hold off anymore “Say it, or I will”

“I can’t” you sobbed “Please…”

“Want to come, baby?”

“Yes, yes! Please!” you mewled

He pulled himself almost all the way out then, stilling his movements completely, holding your jaw in place and making sure you were looking straight into his eyes “Then listen: I love you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a sob and then he finally thrusted into you fully “So much” and you came harder than ever before, your whole body convulsing violently, followed closely by him as he smushed his lips against yours, his deep groan akin to a wounded wolf’s while he shot ribbons after ribbons inside of you, both of you seemingly taking ages to come back down from your highs.

When you came back to your senses you kissed Harry over and over again, not wanting to let him go, not allowing him to move “I love you too, Harry. So much”

He searched your eyes for a long moment and smiled a sad smile, shaking his head slowly “Do you have any idea how much I want to believe that? But… I don’t know that I can anymore” his voice a strangled whisper

Your eyes widened “No… Harry, no, what do you mean? I know I fucked up, I know I hurt you… but I did it because I love you! I couldn’t bear to see you suffer like that because of me! I knew you’d never make the choice, and Emily would never wanna-- wait!”

He pulled away abruptly, making you wince from the loss of contact, but what hurt the most was the pained look he was giving you. You noticed he was trembling slightly and at first you thought he’d gotten the chills since you’d both worked up a sweat but he was also panting heavily as he sat on the side of the bed, looking away and you worriedly touched his shoulder “Harry? What’s wrong?”

He stood up, putting more distance between you and you looked at him worriedly as he ran his hands through his hair before picking at his lower lip, a nervous tic you recognized from before

“Baby…”

He shut his eyes tightly, seemingly unable to bear hearing you call him that “Don’t… please, don’t”

You huffed “How is it that only you get to tell me how you feel, but I’m not allowed to!”

He opened his eyes then, his nostrils flaring, his voice thundering “Because you don’t get to abandon me like that and then claim you love me! That’s why!”

You sat there naked in front of him, completely vulnerable and exposed and felt yourself shrink infinitely under his towering figure “Don’t say that, it wasn’t like that…”

“How was it then, Y/N?! I came back from work and you were gone! Vanished! You didn’t even bother to pack all of your belongings! I had no idea what had happened to you, I seriously thought you’d gone missing, that something terrible had happened to you! Do you have any idea how that feels!?” he shouted at you in earnest now, and you covered your ears shakily, trying to shield away from his anger even though you knew you deserved it

“I was sick out of my mind with worry! I told you, it wasn’t until that Julianne person told me what had happened that I even allowed myself to think that you would be capable of doing such a thing! I never, ever would have thought you capable of hurting me like that, Y/N! Never!”

“I’m sorry!” you began sobbing again, at this point you didn’t even know how your body was even capable of producing more tears “Please, Harry! How can I fix it.. Tell me how I can fix it” you pleaded “I can’t take back the past, but don’t you think for a second that I was happy to have left like that! It broke my heart! It broke me! I’m nothing without you, I’m…” you trailed off hugging your knees to your chest and breaking down completely 

By the time you raised your head again, forcing yourself to calm down a bit, Harry was buttoning up his pants “What…where are you going? What are you doing?”

He avoided your eyes as he put his shirt on and grabbed his jacket “I can’t see you crying anymore, Y/N. Everytime I do, I want nothing more than to take you into my arms and hold you and tell you how everything is going to be alright. But we both know that’s not true. And I can’t lie to you”

“Why isn’t it true?” you whispered scaredly “You said you loved me…”

“I do love you” he finally looked into your eyes “More than anything. But…” he took a long pause trying to find his words, his brows furrowing “But I don’t think we could ever go back to how things were. I don’t know that I could ever forgive you. Don’t know that I could ever believe you again… believe you when you say--”

You jumped off the bed and clung onto him, little did it matter that you were completely naked and he was fully dressed and you had his come dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t let him leave “I love you! Believe it! You don’t have to forgive me. I can’t forgive myself, why should you? I don’t deserve it! I know I don’t. It’s alright, Harry. We can still find our way back to eachother…”

He took a step back, his eyes bloodshot and straining to hold back fresh tears “I’ll go sleep in the other room. Let’s talk in the morning like we agreed initially, alright?”

You gulped, but you knew you couldn’t push him for more. You nodded your agreement as he bent to pick up your discarded key, and watched him walk out the door, with not so much as a glance over his shoulder.

You didn’t have energy for anything else aside from crying yourself to sleep, but you made sure to set your alarm for 9am, careful not to accidentally oversleep and miss your talk in the morning.

*

After what had felt like no more than 5 minutes of sleep, you got out of bed and took a quick shower. You were a mess. Your eyelids were incredibly swollen from all the crying. You tried making yourself look as presentable as possible with what little cosmetics you had in your tote, but you still looked awful. In truth, you didn’t really care. You were itching to go see Harry, and finally talk and make him see how not all hope was lost.

After you’d had him in your arms again you were determined never to let him go, no matter what.

You made your way to the hotel’s restaurant, and he wasn’t there yet. You ordered coffee for the both of you, his black just like you knew he liked it. After 10-20 minutes you began to feel restless. It wasn’t like Harry to be late for anything 

Finally, you decided to go check on him. Maybe he’d overslept, lord knows you could’ve used a few more hours yourself. You knocked on his door and waited to hear him stir inside the room, but as much as you pricked your ears up, you couldn’t hear anything on the other side of the door

“Harry?” you knocked again, louder this time. And again. No answer.

You looked around and finally tried the doorknob and you were surprised to have it open. It wasn’t locked.

You expected to walk in on him sound asleep, his mushy face pressed into the pillow, his messy curls tousled on top of his head. But the bed was made. It didn’t look like someone had even slept in it. When you spotted a note on the bedding you gasped, taking a step back. You shut the door, leaning against it while trying to work up your courage to read what he’d written you. Whatever it was, surely it was not good news if he couldn’t tell you face to face.

With shaky hands you picked it up << Guess it’s my turn to run away. At least I’m leaving a note behind, I trust you’ll find it. 

<<I’m sorry. I’m not strong enough. I can bare my pain, but not yours. You broke my heart as well as your own. Don’t ask me to mend it. There’s nothing left of me to give anymore. Not even forgiveness. And that’s not what we deserve. I won’t soil the memory of us with repressed anger and reproaches and… I can’t bear to look at you with anything other than love. 

<<I adored you, Y/N. You were my heart and soul. You still are. But now I can’t look at you without also remembering all the hurt and misery that resulted from my love for you. And it pains me too much. Niall didn’t tell me where you were, by the way. I had a private eye on him, since I knew how much he insisted he’d find you for the trial- which I was vehemently against. As soon as I found out, I jumped into my car and drove here, not really thinking it through. I was so desperate to find you for the longest time that I didn’t even stop to think what that would mean for us anymore after all this time. I much rathered pretending you were dead, as awful as it sounds. Seeing you this broken with my own eyes is tearing me limb from limb. And I can’t bear it. But I can’t fix it anymore, either. I can’t find it within me to try, because I’m just as broken. 

<<I love you too much to give you any less than what you deserve. So don’t ask that of me. I’m not a whole man anymore, I’ll never be. And I won’t be any less to you. 

<<Forever yours, Harry.

*

You were seeing red. Quite literally. You were hurt, but most of all enraged with his decision to leave like that, without even talking to you like he originally intended to. 

Taking this decision, giving up on the two of you without even talking to you…?

And the most infuriating thing was that it was exactly what you had done. Only what you’d done had been much, much worse. 

On the flip side, you understood where he was coming from. He had a valid point. An infuriating one, but a valid one. You wanted to murder him but you still loved him to bits. And you had a hunch that was pretty similar to how he was feeling towards you.

Thankfully, the short flight had allowed you to cool off somewhat. Not to mention all the time waiting at the airport to board said flight, and how long baggage claim took.

…You’d bought a ticket home using up almost the entirety of your savings. Last minute tickets were expensive as fuck.

You’d also effectively left your car back in a different state. You at least had the common sense to park it outside the airport parking lot. A slow smile ghosted your lips remembering who’d taught you all about that.

And now you were hoping that Harry was driving straight home. You hadn’t had enough money left for the cab fare so you carried your suitcase all the rest of the way from the airport to his house, plopping on the steps of his front door. By your calculations, taking into account Harry’s considerable head start having driven all the while you’d been sleeping that previous night, knowing the distance was doable in one day and that Harry would probably not want to stop to rest at all, and considering how fast he usually drove on the interstate you approximated he’d arrive in about 2 hours. It was nearing 8pm already and you were beyond exhausted. 

And you really weren’t the “spur of the moment” kind of gal, either. This whole thing was terrifying. You literally left everything, however little you had behind to get to him. And you knew he had every right to send you away as soon as he found you waiting on his front steps. He’d been very clear in his note. What if he’d be angry with you? Angrier. You didn’t think you could stand it.

But you had to try. This was your last shot to make it right. You couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t try everything humanly possible to get him back. 

You flinched and realized you must have fallen asleep as you shielded your tired eyes from the headlights flashing right in your face. It took you a split second to realize what was happening, and it coincided with the moment you heard the car door slam shut after said lights were turned off as well.

Blinking a few times to reaccostom your vision to the dark outside you took in Harry’s worried and shocked expression as he rushed towards you from the side of his car. He looked a mess. You wanted nothing more but to take him into your arms and never let go.

“Before you say anything--” you spoke up before he got to “I know this isn’t fair. I knew where to find you, you didn’t. You left a note, I didn’t. I get it, alright? But you’re you. Of course you knew better. I remembered not to leave my car in the airport parking lot because of you, for fuck’s sake! But this is what you signed up for when you decided to be with someone as young and clueless as I am! I’m allowed to not be as wise as you are! I’m allowed at least one major screw up, right!?” 

You paused, trying to calm down a bit, as you were getting really worked up “But one thing I did that you don’t get to do back is decide what I deserve for me! What I want, what I need! Harry-- I want you. I want us, however damaged that may be, I want it! …You’re all I want. I love you… so much! And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, trying to make it up to you! I don’t want your forgiveness. I just want your love. Please…”

Harry looked at you for a long moment, towering over you- you could barely see his facial features in the dark. 

But what you could make out clearly was the glistening in his eyes and the way his lips turned ever so slowly into a smile, his dimples on display. He was so handsome when he smiled, it hurt. 

You slowly smiled in return, your worried expression fading away, and you just stared at eachother like that, smiling after months of nothing but.

You didn’t need to say anything, your eyes had their own secret language. Once more, your bodies were doing the talking for you.

He held out the palm of his hand.

And… you knew.

A/N: i just want to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for making this journey so special! i started writing Daddy Issues in august of 2021, and here we are, ONE YEAR LATER, finally coming at the end of this fic! it's been an incredible ride for me! i am extremely emotional writing this... i never expected you guys to love the story so much and be so supportive and involved and overall fucking amazing! i can't tell you how much it means to me, how special it's been and how much i'm going to miss this!!!!

hopefully you'll send in prompts for extras, i am very excited to take their story further! i will be taking a short break however to focus on other fics for a little while. but rest assured, as long as there's interest i will continue writing for them! ❤️

LASTLY, if you've never left a comment/ask/reblog letting me know how you felt reading this story, please do so now! i would absolutely love to hear it! and if you've been leaving me feedback since day one, i wanna know what you thought of the ending all the more!

arghhh i'm getting too emotional- gonna stop here else i'll go on an endless emotional rant. all my love to you, my lil horndogs 💋💋💋❤️❤️❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

[sunnyx07]

hii

in your dazai fic you mentioned a sibling relationship with chuuya. can you write a bit about it? cause I just love the concept of "overprotective big brother chuuya that hates the fact his little sister is dating none other than fucking dazai"

Pm boss! dazai x reader: "Chuuya knows"

Request?: Yes Summery: Chuuya being the overprotective brother type he is after catching the reader and dazai make out. Genre: Fluff

A/N: HI! Omg thank you for asking me to write this, Im obsessed with the overprotective brother Chuuya and Reader who's technically an Nakahara! (secretly also have a soft spot for Chuuya hihi-) Hope you enjoy this fanfic!

You smiled gently, as you walk through the hallways of the port mafia building. It’s been a few weeks since the kiss with Dazai and by now you two grew towards each other, only natural to start a relationship with one another.

Certainly now, since Dazai was the boss, he could provide extra protection when needed.

You walked through the hallways, people lowering their head and slightly bowing at your direction, a sign of respect, (or fear you never know what the boss could do to you).

You have just carried out some arrangements in name of the boss, In secret, since you have seen the piles of papers he fills in daily.

It wasn’t the biggest deal of arrangements and you knew he would just dismiss it, not wanting to deal with it. There was a traitor amongst the port mafia, not necessary the kind that kills, but the kind that slacks off and keep half the money the port mafia earns for themselves, and you know he wouldn’t like to see that.

So, to make this business work and make the people not forget what would happen if you messed with the higher ups, you decided to take measure into your own hands.

It worked obviously, as you have successfully executed the person who cost the port mafia a fortune, taking the money that belongs to the mafia and his personal money, who should spend it? Not his family, as you figured out he didn’t have a family of his own.

You smiled at yourself as the memory of the phone call you received suddenly played in your head

                                                        ____________________

You were on your balcony, looking over at the streets of yokohama, surprisingly having the night off, as your phone suddenly started ringing.

“Hello?” You answered, chuckling as you heard the familiar voice speak from the other line of the phone.

“Some rumours told me you were going after the asshole thats costing us a lot of money, bold move right under that mackerels nose, don’t you think?” The familiar voice of Chuuya made you smile, immediately letting your guard down.

“Don’t worry about him Chu, he might be able to hurt others, but knowing him, he would only worship the ground I walk over when he finds out I’m basically saving this hell hole” You teased as you heard a cackle from Chuuya’s end.

“Yeah Yeah, Well, I’m glad its you, not someone else, Wouldn’t dream to thank someone like Ace for example” Chuuya’s voice sounded a little disgusted, making you chuckle once again.

“Don’t worry, I got this, now, if you have time come over? I just bought an expensive bottle of wine and I just wanted to try it ou-“

“Fuck yeah count me in.” He interrupts you as he hang up, making you laugh softly at his antics, he will never change when it comes to wine.

                                                        ____________________

You entered the Office of the boss from the port mafia, as Dazai was just filling in his paperwork, looking up from the piles and piles he had to do. He looked up from his papers, as the door behind you closed and you slowly approached him. His Eyes turned gentle for a moment, as he chuckled.

“Couldn’t stay away from me to long huh Bella?” He teased and you just rolled your eyes with a small smile. “For your information, I was dealing with an situation all day, It sounds like your the one who missed me, didn’t you huh?” You teased, as a small smirk covered his lips, his attention completely onto you.

“A situation you say? Might tell me what that was about.” He asked curiously, as you explained everything you what you did under his nose. His expression growing from caught of guard to a smirk.

“And the money should be right into the bank account.” You smirked, as the familiar ding could be heard from his phone. He laughed as he pulled you onto his lap, holding your chin up.

“You little Brat, doing this right under my nose hm? How could I ever thank you huh?” He smirked, as you leaned in a little. “Hmmm maybe perhaps, this could be my thank you” Your voice gentle and husky, as you kissed him, which he happily returned, one of his hands on your cheek, cupping the side of your face as he deepens the kiss.

“Mackerel I got the- HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING SNOGGING HER FACE OFF HUH? SINCE WHEN ARE YOU GUYS A THING?!” The sudden voice of Chuuya made you two pull away, the smallest blush covering your face as you guys have been caught.

“Chuuya! Not the best delight to see, Have you ever heard of knocking?” Dazai’s teasing voice spoke as he just held you down by the waist, even closer towards him. 

Chuuya slammed the paperwork down on the desk, and half climbed on top of it, pulling dazai’s tie. “I EXPECTED NOTHING MORE FROM YOU FOR FUCKS SAKE” He screamed into dazai’s face as he put on a not so amused face.

“Be happy its had not gone any furth-“ “DIE YOU ASSHOLE-“

You just smiled, laughing while they bickered like old times.

You’ll definitely be alright with them by your side.

[sinnamonrolle]

[ the little moments ] ♡ Diavolo

8 - That moment when you found out what Diavolo did with your doodles.

✿ part of a series now! ✿

❀  gender neutral reader  ❀

“Your Highness,” you called out, your knuckles rapping against the door of his private office. The sturdy wood muffled the three knocks, softening the crisp sounds. “It’s me. Are you inside?”

Immediately after you lowered your hand, the door opened to a beaming Diavolo. He wore his polite and friendly smile, restrained in the emotions he showed through his face, but his eyes softened when they met yours.

“Please, come in,” Diavolo said, his smile unfurling into a bright grin. He opened the door wider for you, letting you pass through before shutting it.

“How’s your work going, Your Highness?” you teased, dropping your bag next to your desk. “Still have a stack of papers?”

Ever since you agreed on a weekly hangout session with Diavolo, he immediately installed a new desk next to his, furnished with everything you would need—pens, paper, ink, pencils, colors—there was even a paper weight shaped as a golden nugget.

It must be nice to be a prince.

Diavolo wrapped his arms around you, gently latching onto you, and rested his cheek on your head. This side of him was something that only you could see. You bet even Lucifer didn’t know how puppy-like the prince of the Devildom was.

Diavolo pouted, blowing out a huff of air. “I understand being formal when we are in public, but we are in private, currently. Why don’t you call me by my name? Hm?”

You laughed and patted one of his arms crossed over your chest, but you dryly responded with, “I see Your Highness has plenty of free time. Your Highness must have completed so much work during the week.”

Diavolo drooped over you, his head burying into your neck as you tried to break free of his hold. You had some work to do, but you knew he had even more work waiting for him. Even though your weekly sessions were scheduled so that you could hang out with him, almost every session was spent working. You didn’t blame it on him—rather, you quite liked these sessions since they were calm, without the chaotic mess of the brothers, and you managed to get work done. You also get to spend that time with Diavolo, so it was definitely, one hundred percent a win-win situation.

In response to your veiled reminder to start working, he clutched tighter onto you.

“Be good, call my name,” he said, his voice leaving in a higher pitch than normal. It was even a bit nasally. Was he… whining? Diavolo, the future king, was whining? “Please? Say my name, hm? You know I love hearing you say my name.”

When he finished his sentence, he blew lightly into your ear. The warm air tickled at the inside of your ear, numbing it with a tingling sensation that remained even after he stopped.

You flushed and covered your ear with a hand. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes only to see his pouting face, his own golden eyes misty with unshed tears.

Coupled with his voice, it was an effective and deadly double KO.

Flustered, you cleared your throat. “Di-diavolo… Diavolo, I think you should go work on your papers.”

Diavolo beamed at you, his eyes regaining their clarity. If you weren’t busy avoiding his eyes as you tried to rub away the color on your cheeks, you would have seen his eyes narrowing with a hint of smugness.

Before he pulled himself away from you, his mouth pressed against the junction of your neck where your shoulder joined together, the sensation of soft lips warming your skin for just a moment, and you swore your heart missed a beat—tripping over a figurative line and tumbling around in your chest until it landed flat on its face.

Diavolo sighed as he turned to the stack of papers on his desk. “I’m so sick of looking at these papers. I much rather look at you all day. You are, by far, more interesting than whatever Moloch has to report on his governing.”

You gave him a helpless look. “It’s your kingdom that you’re looking at.”

Diavolo ran a hand through his hair, his slender fingers separating the dark red strands, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way they fell back over his forehead.

“I can still be bored of it,” Diavolo replied. The teasing and playful expressions that were just on his face had now faded away, leaving behind a blank face that carried hints of exhaustion.

As a demon, Diavolo wouldn’t show any signs of aging like humans would, since demons had amazing regeneration abilities. And with the magic suffused in the Devildom air, it wasn’t any surprise that demons could keep their youthful appearance or even alter them to their preferences.

Diavolo had the face of a human in their early twenties, but you noticed the dark bags underneath his eyes, the way his eyes drooped, and the dazed look he often showed when he forgot the world existed around him.

“Besides,” he continued, sitting down on his seat, “You haven’t read Moloch’s reports. He’s a bit—how do I put this… Moloch pays high attention to details, especially when it involves… certain emotions and feelings. He’s easily excited by them, and since he wants to make sure I don’t miss anything, he includes everything into his report.” He stretched his thumb and index finger to measure the stack of papers. “This much is his.”

Diavolo pointed to basically one-third of the stack.

“That’s a lot of paper,” you said, also sitting down. “This is a weekly report, right? How do you still have so many trees?”

He blinked in surprise, probably from your concern about the Devildom trees, and then, he laughed.

“You are so cute,” Diavolo said, smiling. You were basically right next to him, so he reached over and lightly squeezed your cheeks. His voice became softer. “Don’t worry, we recycle all the paper, and we are replanting whenever we can. Anything that is within the territories of my kingdom will be well taken care of.”

“That’s good,” you said, returning his smile. “I wouldn’t want a beautiful place like the Devildom to reach the state of the human world.”

Diavolo picked up a sheet from the stack on his desk, the nail of his thumb scratching lightly against the paper. It was a subconscious habit of his that you accidentally noticed from the several sessions you’ve spent with him.

“I appreciate your concern for the environment,” he said, skimming the paper before setting it down on your desk. “But won’t you spare any for me? My eyes are so dry from reading for hours non-stop.”

You thought back to when he teared up earlier, appearing pitiful in order to make you say his name, and unwillingness welled up inside you. You had to stop spoiling him, or this would turn into a bad habit.

“Be good, hm?” you said flatly, mirroring his earlier coaxing. Only this time, there was mild indifference on your face. You brought out your own homework and grabbed a gilded pencil from the pen holder. “Get to work. Your kingdom awaits your guidance.”

Diavolo didn’t respond. You stopped flipping through your chemistry notes and turned to find him staring at you with a smouldering gaze. The dark pupils of his eyes nearly swallowed his golden irises, leaving behind a thin ring of yellow that reminded you of a fire’s core—a blazing, molten yellow that threatened to intensify into something that burns.

You swallowed hard, the air pausing in your chest. If you weren’t sitting down, your knees might have given out from how intense his eyes looked.

You managed to get some words out. “What—what is it?”

“I’m sorry,” Diavolo said. There was a hoarseness to his voice that roughened his words and lowered his pitch, seeming to rumble from his chest. Despite the hoarseness, the way he spoke was undeniably smooth and even a bit… deliberate. “It seems… I experienced momentary deafness. Please, would you repeat what you said?”

There was absolutely no way Diavolo experienced “momentary deafness,” or however he put it, because you knew that, as a demon, his senses were outstanding compared to humans. He had always been healthy, and today would be no exception either. Although it resembled more of an excuse than anything else, you had no resistance to that stare of his and could only agree to his request.

“Di—Diavolo,” you said, but when you found that your voice came out slightly wrong, you cleared your throat and repeated yourself. “Diavolo, be good. Do your work.” Your voice subconsciously became softer, but this time, it didn’t contain the same indifference as before.

Diavolo’s long eyelashes fluttered, trembling as he took in your words. After a short period of silence, he hummed softly.

“Yes,” he said, looking at you. “I will listen to you.”

To your surprise, he actually returned to his work without saying anything else. The only sounds that filled his office afterwards were the smooth slides of parchment against parchment as he placed the ones he finished reading onto your desk.

You returned to your own work as well. Your chemistry class had an exam coming soon, and you still felt ill-prepared for it, so you couldn’t miss out on this quiet time. However much you would like to study at the House of Lamentation, it was impossible to do so most of the time. One brother after another would just invite themselves into your room, often bringing their little arguments with them, resulting in them always asking for your opinions without fail.

Tapping the edge of the golden pencil against your notes, you took in a deep breath and cleared all irrelevant thoughts from your mind. No more nonsense. It’s time to study.

And so, the time quietly passed in this manner.

Before you knew it, you reached the last pages of your notes. You sat back into your chair, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the soft cushioning against your back. Diavolo’s taste was just fantastic, although you suppose anyone would after living in luxury for thousands of years.

The sound of scratching filled your ears, suddenly reminding you that you weren’t alone in the room. You lazily opened your eyes to see Diavolo slide another paper onto the growing pile on your desk.

Diavolo had made some good progress. He was nearly done with his stack, which earlier had towered over him. Some of the papers were signed and stacked to his other side, some were set aside to be reviewed again, and the remaining unnecessary ones were set on your desk.

The reason for it was because Diavolo knew you had a habit of doodling when killing time. You often finished your work before Diavolo, and so while resting your brain, you found yourself reaching for some paper and letting golden ink flow and form random shapes.

The pen scratching against the paper, the twinkling of the golden ink as the lights casted their glow against it, the shuffling of fabric against wood, the scritch scritch scritch that would occasionally murmur in the office—they all came together to form something comforting to you.

It became extremely familiar. Sometimes, when you studied alone in your room, on the rare quiet days when no one bothered you, you found yourself scratching against paper with the edge of your nail. Because, otherwise, the silence didn’t sound right.

How wonderful it was—to have this sort of secret connection.

“Oh? This is different from your usual doodle.”

You blinked, waking up from the trance of your drifting thoughts, and saw that Diavolo was smiling at you as he leaned into his hand.

“Ah, did you finish?” you asked, returning his smile as you set down the pen in your hands. “I think you finished faster than usual.”

“Of course, I did,” Diavolo said. “I had to in order to fully enjoy your drawing.”

He reached over to your paper, and then you realized that you had spaced out the entire time you were doodling. You had no recollection of what you drew, so when you looked down at your work, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

The golden lines winked back at you, teasing you with their sparkles as you tried to process the fact that you accidentally, very much so, drew the prince of the Devildom while he was working.

Indeed. Now, you remembered.

On the back of a report was a Diavolo in gold ink—the eyes half-lidded, focused on the paper in his hand; his mouth set softly with the ends curled down, matching with the minute wrinkling of his brows; the taut lines of his neck gently trailing into his collarbones, which were exposed due to his unbuttoned collar; the protruding knuckles on his hands, linked to his slender fingers that held onto paper.

It was a rough sketch, but it captured so much that the roughness gave it a sense of life. Of course, it wasn’t perfect. It was drawn in such a short amount of time that it could hardly be considered a masterpiece.

But with how Diavolo was handling the paper, you almost felt like he was treating it as such.

“Can I keep it?” he asked, setting the paper down and turning to you.

You looked at the drawing in his hands, and then back at him. Your sketch felt like a mocking copy of the real thing, and a creeping feeling of shame crawled up your neck.

“Are you sure?” You fiddled with the pen on your desk. Why did you have to go and draw him? “It’s not that good. I don’t mind if you keep it, but—”

“It’s not a matter of being good or bad,” Diavolo interrupted. He tenderly traced the lines you drew with a finger as he spoke. “To me, when I see this sketch, I don’t see the technicalities of art, but rather, the time you spent thinking of me. And it is this time and thought you have put in that I treasure the most.”

You didn’t know what to say in response, so you looked down, away from the soft indulgence on his face that only appeared when he was alone with you.

You looked away because you couldn’t bear the way your heart stuttered from it, because you couldn’t bear to allow yourself the growing familiarity of that expression, because you wouldn’t be able to bear it if one day you were no longer the receiver of the same expression.

Diavolo left a lifelong impact on you that was slowly suffusing through your daily life, but what about you?

How long will you last in his heart?

You clenched the pencil you were playing with, your mood dipping at the depressing thoughts sneaking their way into your head, but then you remembered something.

Looking back at him, bracing yourself against that expression on his face, you asked, “What did you do with my other doodles?”

Diavolo tilted his head, the strands of his hair brushing against his eyes, and he smiled at you mysteriously, like he relished in knowing something that you didn’t.

“Are you curious?” he asked.

You stared at him, face blank as various snarky replies flew through your mind. You were so tempted to sass back, but you decided on a mild, “Well, yeah. Why else would I be asking?”

Diavolo laughed, eyes squinting into crescents. “Fair enough. Then, I’ll show you.” He leaned over to his other side, away from you, but right before he pulled open the drawer, his hands paused.

“Are you ready?” Diavolo teased.

You were not impressed. At your deadpan expression, Diavolo stopped playing around and finally pulled the drawer open, carefully taking out the glass display box from inside.

You couldn’t tell what was displayed inside until Diavolo placed it down on the desk and removed the casing around it. Six golden seal stamps, each with a beautifully carved wooden body, were meticulously arranged so that the patterns could be seen clearly.

“Are those… seals?” you asked, leaning in closer to confirm what you’re seeing. “What do seals have to do with my doodles?”

Diavolo rubbed your head. “Look closely,” he said. “These are my favorites out of all your doodles.”

You blinked, then carefully studied the engravings. The first one was a doodle from long ago, from when you had just started the weekly sessions with Diavolo. In fact, it was so long ago that if Diavolo hadn’t told you that it was your doodle, you wouldn’t have recognized it at all. The others were all from your previous sessions. Some you couldn’t remember when it was from, but some you remembered doodling in the previous months.

“To answer your question,” Diavolo said after a while, “I made all your doodles into seals. My favorites are kept close to me in this case, and the others are placed in a protected cabinet at the back of my office. I also made another set so that I could look at them and use them back at the castle.”

“You…!” you choked, whipping your head towards him incredulously. You thought it was already crazy that he made six seals of your doodles, but not only did Diavolo make a seal out of every doodle you drew, he made two sets! Two! “Isn’t that overkill?! Why did you make two sets? That’s such a waste of resources! I thought you would just keep the papers I doodled on, not… not… this!”

Diavolo ignored your scolding and picked up a seal from its stand. “Do you want to give it a try?” he asked casually, taking out another box. This one held wax sticks, a spoon for melting wax, and some tea candles. “This penguin of yours is really cute. I love how chubby it is!”

“No, no,” you breathed out, rubbing at your forehead. “No, it’s fine. As long as you’re happy.”

After all, Diavolo was a prince of an affluent kingdom. It was also part of his nature to indulge in these sort of eccentric little things. And it wasn’t like you were angry or anything, since you did give him permission in the first place. You weren’t angry at all, just perhaps a bit embarrassed at having something you made with barely a thought and any effort to be turned into high-quality seals that rivaled the manufacturing of the royal seals…

Diavolo was really too much.

“Then, you can watch me,” he said, grinning. “What color should I use?”

You curled the edges of your lips. “How about blue?”

Diavolo nodded, grabbing the dark blue wax stick from the box. The golden specks mixed into the wax sparkled under the light as he broke a piece off. Lighting the tea candle with a spark of magic, he placed the piece of wax into the spoon and watched it melt into a puddle of gold-speckled blue.

Now that you thought about it, it was rather endearing. You smiled at the pure glee on Diavolo’s face when he poured the wax out on some paper, delicately pressing the seal into the wax.

This wasn’t bad. You could get used to this. Maybe you shouldn’t, but when you saw how Diavolo beamed after lifting the stamp from the wax, when you saw how he showed the penguin to you after peeling it from the paper, when you saw how this moment held you two so tenderly that you felt like time stopped—you were rather reluctant to let all of this escape from your grasp.

Crackle, stamp, peel.

This sound, too, you decided—if the sound of nails against paper was the sound of comfort, then, this sound of joy—you won’t let it escape.

It was yours to immortalize.

————————

Masterlist!

Phew, this one took a while. I'm sorry it's so long ;-;

Barbatos is next!

[meowdarame]

beach day! | shion madarame

pairing: shion madarame x f!reader (afab!reader, she/her pronouns)

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI!; exhibitionism, public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, 2 instances of the word “daddy” (self-indulgent i know LMAO), 1 instance of degradation, lmk if there’s anything that i missed!!

notes: click here for an explanation of the pool game “chicken fight.” wrote this today because this thought kept me up last night i just wanna go to the beach w/ my pretty boy shion <3 anyways, likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

tagging: @christeningsakusa because she’s bestie, @bxnten for always sending me shion fanarts, and @kisakiapologist and @tettatonin for simping over this dork with me <3

beach days with your boyfriend and his friends are your favorite way to seek refuge from the blistering heat. waves lap against the southeastern shoreline, and a cool, gentle breeze tickles your face. flocks of birds swarm above you and sing cacophonous melodies that are a hallmark of summertime, occasionally dropping down to pick off scraps of food that beachgoers left behind.

the sun’s rays bounce off of shion’s glistening tanned skin, giving off the illusion that he’s sparking underneath the afternoon light. his abs ripple as he laughs at the comedic sight before him— the haitani brothers push izana off of kakucho’s shoulders as they play a game of “chicken fight” in the chest-deep water. shion’s always attractive, regardless of what he’s wearing, but his 5-inch inseam swim trunks are doing very little to hide what he’s packing underneath.

as you lie down on a picnic blanket, encaged in between his strong arms, your fingertips gently trace little hearts on his warm skin. burying your face into the crook of his neck, a soft sigh slips past your lips. “baby,” you hum, and he doesn’t miss the slight lilt in your voice that tells him that you want something.

“hmm?” he asks, looking down at you and planting a kiss on the crown of your head. “my princess needs something?”

nodding your head against his shoulder, you whine, “mhmm. need you, shion.” with your plea, his leg weasels its way in between yours, flexing his thigh muscles and pressing it against your cunt. as you begin to subtly grind against him, a smirk spreads across his lips.

“wanna go back to the car for a bit?” he offers, lightly tugging at the strap of your bikini bottom. “if we make it quick, the boys won’t even notice that we’re gone.”

“no, let’s do it here.”

“here?” shion chuckles, shocked by your outrageous request. “you wanna do it here? we might get caught if we do…”

“there’s no one else here but your friends and us! and we’ll cover ourselves with a blanket,” you pout. his eyebrows raise even higher when you reason with him. “we’ll make it quick, and i’ll be quiet! i promise!” you emphasize your last word by pressing a chaste kiss against his lips, and the fleeting feeling of you makes his dick jump in his shorts.

“grab the spare blanket then, pretty.”

you immediately jump to action, pulling the checkered blanket out of his backpack and spreading it over your entangled bodies. your lips find his again, this time allowing the kiss to last a little bit longer. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, making you mewl into his mouth.

you turn to face away from him, nestling your ass against his crotch. he frees his hardened cock out of his swim trunks, and it feels so good as it rests against your flesh. shion’s hand snakes its way to your front, calloused fingertips running up and down your clothed slit.

“shit, baby,” he hisses, biting his lip to stop himself from letting out a moan. “you’re so fucking wet— soaked straight through your swimsuit.”

your hand wraps around his wrist, trying to move it and give yourself more friction. “i’m sorry, daddy. i couldn’t help myself; you just look so hot in those shorts.”

“it’s okay, princess,” he starts, pushing your bikini bottoms to the side and rubbing slow circles around your aching clit. “my needy girl just likes being daddy’s cumslut— nothing wrong with that.”

his tip pushes through the first tight ring of your pussy. you let out a small shriek, but shion’s hand immediately flies to cover your mouth. “gotta be quiet, pretty,” he tsks. “this is what you wanted right? thought you could take it.” he shakes his head in faux disappointment.

“i-i can,” you choke out, trying to sound confident but your voice wobbles. “want more, please.”

“only because you asked so nicely,” is all he says before he shoves his cock all the way inside your velvety walls, his tip kissing your cervix with the swift thrust.

he begins rocking his hips into yours, his fingers swiping your clit back and forth at the same pace as his thrusts. your lips part as you pant, pleasure clouding your brain and seeping to every part of your body.

“look at me, pretty,” shion rasps, breath airy as his chest heaves. “wanna watch you as i fuck you.” you turn your head to face him, and he’s just as fucked-out as you are— his thick brows are knit together as he chases his high; sweat beads down his temples, and his blonde hair sticks to his face, half covering his tattoo. his tongue cutely lolls out of his mouth, and drool starts to drip down the corners of his lips. giggling, you reach your arm out from under the blanket and wipe away his spit.

everything feels so hot— the soft cotton of the blanket insulates the heat radiating from your intertwined bodies. your backside feels damp as sweat sticks to your skin. it’s a little uncomfortable, but you don’t care. the only thought in your hazy mind is your orgasm that looms over you— a euphoric high that shion is quickly coaxing out of you.

“fuck,” he groans out, sinking his face into your shoulder blade. “pussy’s so warm and slick. feels like a fucking dream.” his fingertips deliver a light slap to your clit, and your body jolts at the sensation.

“i’m close, baby,” you whisper, staring into his obsidian irises. “cum with me. want you to fill me up.” his hips stutter when he feels the knot in his abs begin to snap.

“oh i plan on it, princess.”

your walls tighten around him as you cum with a silent cry. an immense warmth fills your pussy as shion fills you to the brim with his seed; he fucks you through both of your orgasms, letting your cunt milk him completely dry before pulling out. after slipping his softening cock out of your fluttering hole, he slides your bikini bottoms over your sensitive cunt and turns your trembling body around to face him.

he chuckles lightly to himself and taps your covered pussy twice. “make sure you keep it all inside, baby,” he teases, and you just want to slap that sadistic smirk off of his face. “don’t want the boys to see my cum dripping down your thighs right?”

you open your mouth to quip back a protest, but ran’s voice in the distance calls out to you. “hey lovebirds!” he shouts, and your eyes flit to the direction of the sound. he stands in the water with rindou sitting on his shoulders, and the brothers wave at you. the older haitani continues, “get out from under that blanket and play ‘chicken fight’ with us! izana and kakucho gave up! sore fuckin’ losers!”

shion giggles. “c’mon babe, let’s go play with them!” he slaps your cunt one more time, making your body jump upon impact. squinting your eyes at him, you stare daggers into your sadistic boyfriend, but reluctantly, you rise to your feet to join the brothers in the cool water.

not even ten minutes later, shion washes his own cum out of his hair, a direct result of losing the game of “chicken fight.”

[stjarnaloki]

Hiii so I’m this is a 3am idea but could you do a Loki x reader one shot based off green green dress from Tick Tick boom? I LOVE YOUR WORK

Hiii Amelia! i looooooved this idea, I was so excited when I read it. I hope you like what I came up with!

Green (Green) Dress (Loki x f. reader)

warnings: 18+ tags: prince Loki, reader is from Vanaheim, dress ripping, thor has a wife, also he's king, this is the dress I was picturing

Can I tie you up love? If you tell me yes I'll unbutton every button down your green, green dress

The Bifrost spit you out as usual, in an overwhelming blur of colors and the sensation of being hit in the chest by an iron fist. 

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, cursing the shimmering gold buildings in the distance that caught the sun. Asgard was far too bright at 8 a.m. 

Heimdall looked down from his pedestal at you, offering nothing but a respectful nod of his head. You smiled back meekly, trying to resist the urge to hurl on the glittering floor. 

When you got your bearings, you adjusted your grip on your overnight bag and hiked up your skirts, beginning the long journey down the rainbow bridge. Early morning mist curled its tendrils around the edges of the walkway. It smelled of salt and olive trees as you drew closer to the castle, reminders of early fall. 

You had a few hours before the luncheon that morning celebrating King Thor’s first treaty, and unfortunately you knew exactly what to expect. A dreadfully dull morning full of speeches, toasts, and not enough alcohol. The niceties would fade as the sun went down, the old people would go to bed, and then a party, raucous and full of too much mead would take its place. You’d been invited as a guest of honor, and you couldn’t exactly decline the invitation as a powerful woman from the other Realm in the treaty. 

It’s just one night, you said, sighing. Hopefully you could sneak off early to the library. 

One thing held your spirits slightly higher than normal, however. A formal event always got your heart racing, not for the political bullshit but for the dress-up. You loved the process, laying down tints and glitter on your eyes and cheeks, sliding into high heels and silk skirts that brushed your ankles whenever you moved. Nothing was more fun to you than a transformation. Tonight’s dress was going to turn heads, if you had any say in it. 

You knew it was provocative to wear one of the Prince’s colors, even more so as a guest of honor. It was an unspoken tradition, and Asgardian girls that made the mistake of wearing red to a ball rarely ever made that mistake again after experiencing a glowering stare from Thor’s queen. 

But the green dress had been practically molded to your body, and there was no way in Hel you would be prevented from wearing it. 

You took the long way to the palace, winding your way through groves of olive trees and stopping for deep breaths at rose bushes taller than your head. As you rounded a corner you were suddenly stopped in your tracks, drawing a quiet gasp as you recognized the raven curls that were sprawled under an orange tree, bent over a book. You backtracked immediately, trying to escape without being seen, but a severe brow suddenly looked up from his book and sat up a little straighter. 

“My apologies, Prince Loki,” you said with a respectful bow. “I didn’t realize you’d be here, I-”

“Thought you’d be able to trespass in the gardens alone?” said Loki in a soft but terrifying voice. You kept your face set in stone, but your stomach flipped. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but his gaze sent little jolts of panic into your limbs. 

“Well, yeah,” you said, deciding that coming clean was your safest bet. 

“I see,” said Loki, and he stood, stretching his long limbs. “Here to facilitate my brother’s peacocking, I assume?” he continued, sounding bored. 

“Against my will,” you said with a smirk. The constant quarreling of the Asgardian brothers was well-known, even as far away as Midgard, and you might as well play into it. 

Loki raised an eyebrow at this, the smallest sign that you had intrigued him. 

“Likewise…” he murmured, his nose wrinkling with the thought of the fast-approaching afternoon. 

“I should leave you,” you said, anxious about other unexpected eyes in the garden. 

“Find me, tonight,” Loki said as you turned to walk away. You looked back, raising an eyebrow at his request. 

‘It won’t be hard, I’ll be right next to the king, on that same stupid pedestal,” said Loki, smirking. “I only mean that if you’d wish to escape drunken warriors, I’m quite familiar with this place…”

“I’ll be in green,” you replied with a nod. “You come find me.” With a turn of your heel, you left the garden. 

—---

The fabric felt like water on your skin as you slid it over your head. Hours had gone by since you’d unexpectedly run into the exact Prince whose color you'd be stealing tonight. The luncheon passed with nothing of note, although you had stolen a few more glances than normal at the mop of black hair at the royal table, and been shocked to find green eyes staring back on every occasion. You’d managed to excuse yourself for your outfit change, and you were nearly running late. Voices were beginning to drift up the stairs from the party that was well underway. 

At last, your earrings were on and your shoes were buckled. You painted your lips a pale shade of pink and stepped into view of the full-length mirror. If you were honest, you’d outdone yourself. 

It was the most vibrant shade of emerald green, cinched at the waist and cascading in gentle strips down your legs. A slit nearly as high as your hip let bits of your glowing skin peek through when you walked, and it had mesh sleeves with bits of golden thread woven through into tiny stars. 

You felt a million pairs of eyes on you as you crossed the grand threshold into the ballroom. 

The God of Mischief didn’t even know your name, but there you were, dark green fabric draping over your hips as if he had picked it out himself. The eldest Asgardians audibly expressed laments of your insolence, while the younger ones stole glances and turned back to their friends and whispered did you see?  

Having no group of friends to retreat to, you walked with your head held high to the bar, where you ordered a very strong drink from a bartender who looked at you with a raised eyebrow. You downed it in one gulp and quickly ordered another, begging it to replenish the courage that was failing you. Thankfully, Thor had begun drinking hours before, and after a few minutes was drawing every pair of eyes in the room as he was hoisted by six warriors in the middle of a large dance circle.  

One pair of eyes in particular, however, couldn’t be bothered by the commotion. 

Loki was looking at you intently, and even from your perch at the bar you could see how bright his eyes were and the smirk that curled his lips. 

Your mouth went dry at the intensity of his gaze. He seemed to be either incredibly mad or incredibly pleased; it was hard to tell with a man who thrived in chaos. 

He came down off the raised royal platform in slow, methodical steps, your gazes locked on each other’s. A drop of condensation dribbled from your cold glass down your wrist and you shuddered. 

Then he was crossing the room, his absence gone unnoticed thanks to Thor’s incredible distraction. 

Loki bowed deeply when he was in front of you, a man of tradition only amongst the eyes of his kingdom. 

“If it was attention you wanted, my lady, you most certainly have succeeded,” he said, his eyes flitting down to the curve of your breasts and back to your face. 

Heat rose in your chest. Even in your heels, he towered inches over you. His finest banquet attire didn’t help, either; the golden pauldron on his shoulders adding so much to his regalness that you were tempted to look down at your shoes. Still, you persisted.

“Oh, I know, I doubt I’ll ever be invited back,” you sighed. “What a shame.” 

Loki flashed his teeth at your sarcasm. 

“Are you mad at me?” you asked innocently. “I know this is yours and all,” you motioned to the dress.

“Far from it,” Loki said. “I’m thrilled, actually. The drunk antics of my brother are old news. All anyone will be talking about tomorrow will be the mystery girl who dared to wear a green dress and how the prince just couldn’t keep his eyes off her…”

Your drink stopped halfway to your lips. “...is that so?” 

“How can I repay you for taking my brother down a peg?” asked Loki, ignoring your question. The curl in his lip persisted. 

“You could get me out of here,” you half-laughed, not expecting what came next. 

Loki looked at you for a beat, took the glass from your hand and proceeded to down the rest of it. He placed it on the counter and offered you his arm, raising his eyebrows expectantly when you didn’t take it immediately. 

“You asked,” he prodded, and then grabbed your arm himself. “Let’s go.” You weren’t quite sure what you were getting into, but you hooked your arm around his bicep, the leather of his armor softer than you’d imagined. He walked you at a brisk pace towards the door.

“Loki, people are watching us leave,” you hissed through your teeth. No answer. He nearly dragged you away from the party, walking swiftly with an energy you’d never quite thought him capable of. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” you said once you reached a vacant hallway deep within the castle. You were all too aware of the quiet that had replaced the noise of the party. 

“Fuck them,” he said, a glint in his eye. You gripped his arm tighter and smiled, heat spreading to your cheeks. “You obviously have a taste for causing mischief, therefore you’re the most interesting person at that fucking party and therefore the only one worth my time now…any more complaints?” Loki said all in one breath. He’d stopped walking, shifted his grip up to grasp your forearm. The fingers that dug into the skin made your heart speed up. 

“No,” you whispered, letting him take a step closer. His eyes raked over your body and it took everything in you not to quiver under him. 

“Now…” Loki said, licking his lips. “What to do about this dress?” 

His hand reached down to the slit in your dress and let the shimmering fabric slide over two fingertips. The pads of them gently brushed your thigh, and goosebumps erupted in their wake.

“Stunning…” Loki whispered, staring only at your lips. His other hand found the small of your back, pressing on the line of buttons one by one up your spine. Your eyes closed in spite of yourself, and when you opened them again you found lust in Loki’s eyes. 

“We shouldn’t…” you murmured. If Loki looked at you like that again you weren’t sure if you’d be able to say no.

“No, we shouldn’t,” murmured Loki back. “But you never were one for playing by the rules, were you…?”

Your mouth fell open and Loki caught it with his own, pressing you against the wall until the weight of him left you gasping. 

Flamed licked your body when he kissed you again. 

“Touch me,” you breathed against his mouth, and Loki drew back, his pupils blown and lips red and shining. His hands raked up the shimmering green fabric until they met your skin and you gasped, feeling the way his body moved on yours as he tugged at your hips desperately. A groan escaped his lips as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Please…” Loki whispered against your cheek, breathless already from your lips. “Let me unwrap you from this exquisite thing…” his fingers ran over the pleats on your breasts, making your nipples harden.  His lips were sweet with red wine and pillowy soft; you wanted to drown in them. 

“Why don’t you rip it off?” you replied in an equally sultry voice. The effect was instantaneous. Loki growled deep in his throat, hiking your skirt up even higher until his hands caressed the soft flesh of your hip bone. In an instant, he was carrying you into the next room as his tongue tangled with yours. He kicked the door closed as you crossed the threshold and set you down again, only to pin you face-first towards the door. 

“Say it again,” he said, breathing into your neck. His hands toyed with the buttons, like his fingers were itching to destroy. 

“Tear it off of me,” your moan muffled by the weight of him against you. 

With an obscene ripping sound, Loki split all 20 buttons down the back of the gown with a casual yank. The gauzy fabric gave nearly instantly, and it fell in a heap at your feet. You turned to face him, completely bare, and found a self-satisfied grin on his face. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes vanished as well.

“Come here, you little minx,” he grumbled, his hands grasping your hips to hoist you easily from the ground. Your legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed you into the mattress, his cock trapped between you as his body encompassed yours. 

“Oh, sweet girl…” he groaned. His tip was already leaking clear fluid onto your stomach. You swiped some up with your finger and sucked it off while he watched you, tasting delicious salt dance on your tongue. 

“Let me taste you…” Loki murmured between the kisses he lay on your collarbones. “Let me dive into your thighs and never come up…” 

You nodded desperately, eyes wide with want. He kissed all the way down your body, leaving wet marks on each breast and down your pelvic bone. He looked at you as he spread your folds apart, piercing you with his green eyes as he took a long, flat lick along your slit. 

“Fuck…” you cried, your hips twitching at the sudden rush of pleasure. “Fuck, Loki, oh my god…” 

Loki was laving at your clit with the tip of his tongue, holding your hips to his face when you tried to squirm. Heat built in your core and you clapped a hand to your mouth to stifle your moans. 

“No, be loud for me, babygirl…” Loki said. “I want to hear you.” 

“Ah-fuck,” you obeyed, and Loki dove back in between your legs, adding two fingers that slid in easily through your wetness. You clenched around them with every swirl of his tongue on your clit, your moans becoming short and unstable. The energy building in your core made you feel electric.

“Augh…mmm…Loki…” you whined as his tongue plunged into your entrance, slurping at your juices until they dribbled down his chin. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop…” 

“Then I’m doing something right, babygirl,” Loki said, his mouth not leaving your clit. The vibrations from his voice made your hips buck and you bit down hard on your lip to keep from coming undone. 

“N-no,” you whimpered, grasping at his dark curls to yank him up to your face. His mouth was smeared with your juices and you kissed him messily, tasting yourself all over his tongue. It made you feel absolutely animal. You wanted to be filled with every possible inch of him, and you told him so.

“I need to come on your cock, Loki, please,” you whined, grasping his leaking cock until he shuddered. You pumped him a few times until he was straining in your hand. 

“Greedy little thing,” Loki teased, but he was lining himself up with your dripping entrance the moment the words left your lips. With a hiss, he pressed himself into your cunt, overwhelmed by how tight and warm you felt around him. 

“Fuck, you’re exquisite…” he half-cried when he bottomed out inside of you. 

“Yes…” you said, feeling filled to the brim. He began to pump his hips achingly slow. Your nails grazed the pale skin of his back as you adjusted to his length, feeling every vein of his shaft as he moved in and out. 

“Yes, just like that, oh-” he began to move faster, the ridge of his head rubbing your g-spot and making your back arch. 

“You like that?” Loki goaded. “Want me to fill you up?” 

“Oh, Loki…”  you cried, imagining yourself leaking his essence all over his sheets, tainted and marked by the prince of another realm. 

“That’s right babygirl, oh, look at you, taking my cock so well,” Loki said, his voice hitching as he thrust up into you. His cock felt so big you could nearly see it stretching the skin of your stomach with every snap of his hips. 

Hot, wet liquid was flowing down your thighs from your cunt, gushing forward with every movement of Loki inside of you. 

“Listen to yourself…you’re so wet,” Loki said in a strangled voice. “You’re gonna fucking drain me, darling.” 

You nodded and whimpered, pulling the bulk of him impossibly closer and licking into his mouth. You loved being filled by him in every hole, so much that you never wanted to leave that sensation. 

Loki swallowed your moans, his hips rocking more desperately now. One hand trailed down to circle your clit, and he cried out as your cunt clamped down in a rhythmic pattern. 

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you, babygirl?” Loki said, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice steady. 

“Y-yes,” you groaned, circling your clit faster and faster, feeling warmth spread from your core to your limbs and growing ever-tighter around his cock. “Loki, I’m gonna come, fuck…come with me…” 

Your command was cut off with a guttural moan and Loki’s cock sent you over the edge. Your cunt gripped him, your body wracked with an orgasm that felt like white-hot light. You clutched the sides of his face and moaned his name into his mouth, one last shallow thrust sending him tumbling over the cliff with you. He groaned deep and wet in your mouth, spilling himself inside you. It was warm and sticky, coating every surface of your slit and seeping deeper inside of you with every pulse of your core. 

“Hah–” you both said, breathing the same breath as the last drops of his release dripped inside of you.  Loki’s arms gave out and he collapsed on your chest, kissing your sweaty collarbones lazily as you slowly returned to your bodies. 

After a long time, Loki reluctantly slid out of you with a groan, drawing you closer to his chest. 

“I don’t have anything else to wear,” you mused, motioning to the heap of green fabric that lay next to the door. 

“I could fix it,” Loki offered, stroking your temple.

“Or you could keep me in your bed all night.”

====

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