#i KNOW in game you have the option to be nice and soft and not kill everyone...but like....I am not going for that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suzukiblu · 6 days ago

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. . . anyway LISTEN I told 'yall November was gonna be "obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU" month, and I really did not INTEND to post my daily words for it again this year but also, like, fuck it, we ball. No promises I will update EVERY day this time around but again: fuck it, we ball. ( also uhhhhh I've been writing this fic kinda-sorta-semi out of order lately but there is still a significant chunk of word count I'd already written that I would've pre-gamed and posted YESTERDAY if I'd thought I was gonna be doing this, sooooo hope nobody minds us kickin' off the month with like an extra 5.9k on top of the 1.6k of obligatory sugar that I ACTUALLY wrote today behind this here cut? yes? no?? Bueller???? )

get sugared, Super-boytoy. Tim, you just . . . you just do your future-supervillain best over there, buddy. you just do what you can with yourself. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I wanted to,” Tim says again, and Kon glances away and bites his lip, turning the flowers by the stem again.

“It’s, uh–pretty,” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, it’s��cool. Thanks.”

“If I can’t bring you fresh ones, well . . .” Tim shrugs. Kon glances back to him, and very briefly presses one of the orchid blooms against his own mouth. His face is still all flushed and his eyes are still a little soft, and it’s . . . it makes a picture, alright, even if it's not one Tim's specifically set up to take. Especially with the gold eyeliner and his blue eyes both matching the orchids.

Tim didn't plan that, obviously, but he thinks it makes up for the sapphire versus ruby thing.

“Um . . .” Kon trails off, biting his lip. Glances down at the orchids from under his lashes. It doesn't make him any less of a picture, for sure. “So, um–do you wanna see the ‘something nice’ I got?”

Tim blinks, immediately thinks of the most embarrassing option that Kon could possibly mean, and desperately tries to fight back a mortified flush at the idea. But, well–everything he can see Kon wearing is something he remembers buying him already, so . . .

Oh god, he needs his brain to shut up right now. Immediately. Right now and immediately and forever.

“Sure,” he says like a normal person, trying not to panic. “What is it?”

Kon, thank god, pulls a little rectangular package inexplicably–and inexpertly–wrapped in newspaper comics out of the same coat pocket he tucked the jewelry box in. There's plain white string tied around it in a bow.

Tim . . . blinks.

If he didn't know better, he'd think Kon had . . .

“I, um, got you something?” Kon says, and Tim stares blankly at the package. He–what? “For once, anyway. Well, I guess, uh, technically you got it for yourself, and actually this is kinda stupid maybe, you can literally just get yourself whatever you want whenever, obviously, but I just thought, uh–”

“You got me something?” Tim repeats in surprise. Kon turns pink and shoves the package at him. Tim is too bewildered not to take it.

“I thought it’d be, uh–fun,” he says, biting his lip and still very visibly blushing. “I mean–that we could have some fun with it. Y’know?”

Tim stares at the package for another moment, then looks up at Kon. Alright, this maybe isn’t exactly the vibe he was going for here in terms of who’s paying for what and who’s giving things to who, but . . . well, Kon apparently used his allowance for whatever this is, at least, which gives him a reason to have wanted the allowance, so . . . he can work with that, he figures. Like, it’s an “in” to work from; a step in the process.

He can’t tell what Kon’s gotten him from the shape of the package, though the edges are hard even though it doesn’t feel like it’s in a box or anything. “Have some fun” isn’t much of a clue, though he supposes it does imply something interactive. Maybe it’s a game of some kind, or–

Tim unties the bow and splits apart the clumsy seam of the comic-page wrapping paper with his thumb, tugging through its layers to reveal the package’s contents, and Kon flushes a little darker and watches him just a little bit nervously.

Tim doesn’t actually know what to say.

“I just thought, um, a real one’d probably take better pictures than a phone can,” Kon says sheepishly, slanting his eyes away and half-hiding his face behind the orchids. “I made sure the battery was charged and the guy at the store said it's got a lot of storage, I guess, so . . .”

“You got me a camera,” Tim says blankly, which is the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him short of, like . . . no, it’s pretty much just the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him. By far it’s the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him.

“You like taking pictures, right?” Kon fidgets a little, then smiles just barely shyly as he glances back at him. Tim's heart skips a few beats. Or more than just “a few”, maybe. “So, um–I thought maybe we could go do that . . . somewhere. You know, after dinner.”

“Oh,” Tim says, blinking at him a little stupidly. It’s not a particularly good camera, honestly–like, it’s a perfectly functional model for casual amateur use and a decently reliable commercial brand, but he’s got much better ones that are all professional-quality. He hasn’t used any of them in a while and most of them are admittedly a few years old now, but . . . yeah, this was a hundred bucks max, if that, and his cheapest camera was over five hundred.

Note to self: raise Kon’s allowance.

Also, apparently now his favorite camera is the kind of camera civilian amateurs just take random family photos on. Apparently that’s a thing.

Tim really doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that Kon not only remembered something he mentioned having an interest in, Kon bothered to actually get him something he thought he’d have an interest in. That is really, really not the dynamic he’s been encouraging here, for one thing. And also, why even would Kon do that? Like–really?

“Thanks,” Tim says sincerely, turning the camera over in his hands and feeling incredibly embarrassed about all of this. “I love it.”

“Cool,” Kon says, biting his lip around a smile. His face is still a little pink and he looks all soft and pretty like that, especially with the flowers still in his hand. Tim really was not prepared for Kon having “soft and pretty” in his repertoire. Like, that was not a thing he ever expected to see from his cocky, crowing brawler of a teammate.

Kon’s only a brawler because he thinks he’s supposed to be, though, Tim’s pretty sure. Like–increasingly sure, at this point.

He really, really needs to figure out how to get Kon to tell Robin more about his TTK. Or, like . . . anything about it, apparently. Just literally any single thing, at this point.

“Thank you,” he says again, inspecting the camera assessingly and making note of all its functions and ports and the generally obvious basics. “We could go take some shots around downtown later, if you’re up for that?”

Kon turns bright red, and Tim doesn’t understand for about half a second before remembering–the last time Kon had talked to him about taking pictures, he’d offered . . .

Oh Jesus.

Tim is either incredibly stupid or–actually, he doesn’t even know. Lucky? Embarrassing? The dumbest moron alive who didn’t even realize he was being flirted with again? All those things and several even worse ones?

Kon had offered to let him take spicy pics of him the last time they'd talked about taking pictures, whatever “spicy” means to Kon–brash, impulsive, shameless Kon–and Tim’s the idiot whose first thought upon Kon following up that conversation by very literally giving him a camera was to go take pictures of fucking downtown.

He is the most useless “sugar daddy” to ever sugar.

Well, to be fair, it is Gotham downtown, so it’s very–

“I like taking pictures of streets and buildings,” he blurts belatedly, fumbling to sound like just the oblivious idiot that he is and not some kind of weird fucking perv who’s trying to get Kon arrested for public indecency. Jesus, he’s stupid. “And people-watching is interesting too. You know, stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Kon says, and looks several ways at once, including both a little relieved and a little disheartened, which . . . okay, Tim would literally die if they actually went somewhere to take spicy pics tonight, so is unfortunately unavoidable. He’s not trying to make Kon not feel–attractive or anything, but he needs at least twenty-four hours to make a plan and also two or three or seventeen contingency plans before . . . anything like that happens. Ever. Even in theory. “Um–yeah, sure. That sounds cool.”

“Cool,” Tim says, still desperately pretending to be an idiot. It’s not hard, on account of the fact that he very much is an idiot.

Kon pauses for a moment, then perks up a little, seeming to think of something, and asks–“When’s dinner?”

“Our reservation’s in forty-five minutes,” Tim says, double-checking the time on his phone just to be sure. “Well, forty-six. I figured that’d let us take our time walking over and maybe we could window-shop a little on the way.”

And also shop-shop a lot, if Kon gives him literally even the slightest indication that he wants or needs something. Just if it comes up or anything. That’s all.

Tim definitely did plan their route to the restaurant to cut straight through the middle of the downtown shopping district, either way.

“We could’ve just met there, dude,” Kon says wryly, but grins anyway, glancing down at the orchids in his hand again. “Forty-six minutes, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tim confirms.

“And you like taking pictures of streets and buildings?” Kon asks, his grin turning just a little bit sly. Tim frowns briefly in confusion, not sure what the grin’s about.

“Yeah,” he says. “Gotham has a lot of really interesting architecture and design. Like, it’s an old city, and one that’s been pretty resistant to updates in a lot of areas or just not had the money for those updates. So you get a lot of places with a lot of character and it’s basically the bastard child of gothic and art deco design with a side of industrial warehouse, depending on the part of town you’re in. Like, Crime Alley and the Diamond District have very different vibes, but they’re both very Gotham vibes, if you know what to look for. It’s–”

Kon is grinning really widely at him, for some reason. Tim realizes he’s rambling like a moron and turns red.

“Uh,” he says, repressing a wince. “Yes. Yeah. I like taking pictures of streets and buildings.”

“Cool,” Kon says, and then he carefully packs the orchids back into their box and it back into the gift bag and transfers the chocolates and jewelry back into it too, then grins even wider at him as he hooks the bag’s handles over his arm and into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t drop the camera, babe.”

“Wha–” Tim starts to say, and then Kon grabs him by the arm and pulls him into the closest alley, which is terrible survival instincts for Gotham, oh god, but before Tim can say anything about that Kon’s wrapped an arm around his waist just tight enough to just barely lift him off his feet and bolted straight up into the air with him. “Shit!”

Tim doesn’t drop the camera because he’s held onto cameras while falling off literal buildings before, but definitely only because of that. Muscle memory, or whatever. Also he’s been snatched off his feet by Bruce and Dick plenty of times and thrown off rooftops by multiple rogues and thugs over the years and these days gets regularly dragged around by Bart, all while holding very important things he could not afford to drop, so it’s not like either the sudden jolt or the effort to keep his grip on the camera are as disorienting as it otherwise would be. Just . . .

Ugh, Tim realizes, absolutely unimpressed with himself upon realizing that the breathless feeling he’s having right now is not actually related to the swift and sudden increase in altitude, but is actually just because it’s Kon holding him.

He is an idiot, isn’t he, he reflects resignedly. Just an actual literal idiot.

Jesus.

“Whatcha think?” Kon asks with a grin as he comes to a stop in mid-air with him. He stops very suddenly, but Tim notices a distinct lack of jarring with said stop, which implies Kon’s got his TTK around him again and probably completely around him, which means–

Oh god, Tim thinks, and very quickly makes himself stop thinking about that.

“It’s cool,” he says, because a normal civilian would think flying was something interesting and unusual, but it’s hard to act too excited about a move Kon probably pulls on literally everyone he–

“I meant the view, babe!” Kon says with a laugh, and Tim . . . blinks.

And then he looks down.

They’re hovering a few thousand feet up, and downtown is already lit up bright in the early evening gloom. And Kon . . .

“Streets and buildings, as ordered,” Kon says, grinning wider with a smug, cocky look on his face.

Oh no, he’s hot, Tim realizes with dread, and then blinks again. Stares down at the city below, past the whipping wind and down into the busy streets and the bright, dazzling lights cutting through the murky gloom. He’s seen Gotham like this a thousand times, obviously, because of course he has–he’s been climbing these rooftops for years, and every night he runs across and swings back and forth between them and utterly fails to learn how to do more than a double backflip.

One day, he promises himself distractedly, and then looks back at Kon.

He’s seen Gotham like this a thousand times, but never just because someone thought he’d like it. Like–not like this, he means. Dick's shown him a few particularly special or exhilarating views over the years, yeah, but . . . definitely not like this. Not for a reason like this.

And definitely not while peacocking all smug and pretty dressed up in clothes that he bought him and holding him close enough to kiss.

Kon’s expression turns a little sheepish; a little soft. Not quite shy, but . . .

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice pitched a little quieter, and Tim has the much worse and even more dread-inducing realization of oh no, he’s CUTE.

He swallows, briefly, and feels his face burn.

“Yeah,” he manages in an almost-normal voice. “I like it.”

Kon grins at him, brighter than any city light, and Tim barely keeps himself from dropping the camera after all.

“Thanks,” he attempts awkwardly, making himself focus on the camera and resisting the urge to take an immediate shot of that city-light grin.

Then he takes one anyway, because of course he does. Kon laughs in surprise, then makes a face at him teasingly.

“Hey, you can buy this face in any cheap gossip rag, focus on the fun stuff,” he jokes, jerking his head towards the city below. Tim looks searchingly at him for a moment, and then for obvious reasons snaps another picture. Kon flushes a little again. They probably won't even come out from this close, but . . .

“You’re the most fun I’ve had all week,” Tim says, which is definitely too honest but clearly necessary to make a point of saying. Kon turns redder, ducking his head and grinning around his bitten lip.

“You don’t have to say that kind of thing to me, man,” he says, and it comes across almost like a reflex. Tim hates . . . yeah, just literally everybody Kon’s ever known in his whole entire life, actually? Like, pretty much everybody? Bart gets a break because he grew up alone in VR and is therefore terrible with people and the girls get a break because they haven’t known any of them that long, but everybody else can just take a long walk off a short gutter, in Tim’s opinion.

Especially any “everybody” from Cadmus.

Or Metropolis, at this point.

“I’m not saying anything I don’t want to say,” he says simply, and goes to the effort to frame a few shots of the skyline so Kon will know he appreciates . . . well, not the angle, exactly, but the thought.

Technically he is usually on top of a building when he’s doing this, so the angle is actually a slightly different one than he’s used to–not that he’s been taking photos lately, just–not the point, really. Kon got him a camera and brought him up here because he clearly thought he’d like it, and damned if Tim is gonna do anything to make him think he doesn’t.

He has better cameras for things like this–aerial shots and night photography and long-distance and the like, and better cameras for closeup candids too–but he already knows these pictures are all going to be exactly what he wants them to be, even the ones that don't come out.

Or especially those, maybe.

He's not sure how he'd explain that feeling to someone else.

Kon flies them around, staying out of sight behind the light pollution and among the shadows of the buildings, and Tim takes . . . a lot more pictures than he needs to, actually. He was just trying to make sure Kon knew he appreciated him thinking of him, but actually . . .

Well.

It’s fun, that’s all.

It’s . . . been a while, kinda, since he got to spend this much time on just photography and nothing else. Or–any time at all, really.

Not that this is nothing else, obviously, given that Kon’s holding him and it is very, very hard to concentrate on anything besides that, but it is the kind of a view a standard civilian never gets, and it’s kind of nice to be flying for non-work-related reasons, for once. Like . . . novel, he guesses. A different experience.

Technically he and Dick do “fly” together just for fun, sometimes, but that’s different. Like–so many kinds of different. It helps them in their work–keeps the rooftops familiar and them both in shape and in sync–but he can’t take photos when he’s trying to keep up with Nightwing across the rooftops of Gotham, and it’s not like Dick’s carrying him either.

Also, it’s much less flustering and difficult to concentrate through, because again, Dick is not carrying him, and also Dick doesn’t do things like wear clothes he bought or do his eyeliner and paint his nails for him. Or, uh . . . anything like that.

Also, definitely the “spicy pics” thing is not at all a thing, with Dick. Like, not even slightly, in any way whatsoever. And they’ve also never made out in a changing room or the back of a planetarium or–

Look, there’s a lot of ways it’s different, okay?

A lot of ways.

“I'm not boring you, am I?” Tim asks a little bit sheepishly as Kon lands them on a ledge just behind one of the bigger gargoyles, tucked in tight in the shadows between it and the building it's perched on. “We can probably still fit in some window-shopping before dinner, if you want.”

“Oh my god, dude, I promise we can do things you don't have to spend money on,” Kon says with a laugh as he lets him down on the ledge. “Though if it helps you technically did spend money on this, given how I got the camera and all.”

“It's your allowance,” Tim says, because he wants to make sure Kon actually gets that. “You can spend it however you want.”

“Well, I spent it how I wanted,” Kon says, and then steps closer into his space with a smile. Tim ends up sitting on the gargoyle’s back as Kon leans down to kiss him, and it's not like he's never kissed anyone while perched on a gargoyle before, but somehow it feels like something new anyway. New and electric, bright and easy and smeared with the city lights and thrilling in its shadows, and–

Kon breaks off the kiss, though he keeps a hand on Tim’s arm, probably to make sure the squishy untrained civilian won't accidentally fall off the ledge and get splatted on the concrete. Tim barely holds himself back from chasing his mouth.

“It's cool, anyway. Um, doing stuff you're into with you, I mean,” Kon says, looking a little soft and almost-shy again, and never mind, Tim not only needs to chase his mouth, he needs to set up a damn manhunt for it. “You're real cute when you get excited, man. I mean, uh–just–”

The manhunt is going to require a very significant budget, Tim notes.

Then he kisses him again, obviously. Kon melts down into it–into him, really–and wraps his arms around his neck, and Tim feels several kind of ways about it. Admittedly, it's the easier option with him sitting on the gargoyle and Kon leaning over him, but Kon's put his arms around his neck a couple of times now, and, well . . .

That's just not something he would've expected from him, he guesses. Not “cool” or masculine or badass or . . . whatever, exactly, Kon thinks he's supposed to be.

So Tim . . . likes it, he thinks, that Kon doesn't seem to think he needs to be like that around Tim Drake.

Robin’s sure as hell never seen Kon in eyeliner.

Robin's loss, Tim thinks.

. . . maybe he's compartmentalizing a little too much these days, but still.

Kon makes a very, very soft little sound between their mouths and then laughs, and Tim promises himself he won't stop at Gotham: he'll take over Metropolis for this asshole one day. Even if that means putting up with Lex Luthor and Superman. And also, like . . . everything about Metropolis.

He'll figure it out. Supervillainy is still a long-term plan, so he's got time.

Anyway, if he gives it to Kon after he takes it over he won't have to put up with it, so it's whatever. Sugar daddies do that kind of thing, right? Get their sugar-ees a city?

. . . okay, definitely not. Like, very definitely not.

“Okay date idea, then?” Kon asks as he leans back a bit and does a very bad job of biting back a smile, his face a little flushed and arms squeezing a little tighter around his neck.

Tim will get him Metropolis if it kills Lex Luthor.

“Very okay,” he says, smiling back at him. Kon grins, his face turning just a little bit redder, and then kisses him again. Tim has absolutely no complaints about that. Ever. He can’t even imagine a complaint he’d have about that, in fact.

Worst case scenario, he’ll get them in at another restaurant if they miss their reservation.

He really doesn't know what else he's supposed to do about how easy Kon blushes.

They definitely spend too long making out against the gargoyle and Tim definitely lets himself get too riled up during it–and does not think about tactile telekinesis or any kind of related passive perception while he does–but by the time he’s the one pressing Kon back against the building, he really doesn’t care anymore.

The fact Kon is even willing to let him do that when there is literally no way Tim could ever actually pin him anywhere without a way to sabotage his powers is . . . really, really distracting. Just–so distracting.

Jesus, Tim thinks, breaking off just long enough to catch his breath for a moment. Kon pants softly against his mouth, which sabotages that even worse than kryptonite would sabotage TTK.

Jesus, Tim thinks again, and then crushes their mouths back together.

He doesn’t need to breathe that often.

Kon makes a softer, breathier sound this time, and Tim does not let himself make it weird by letting his hands wander anywhere outside of second base territory. Frankly he’s not sure second base territory isn’t him making it weird, but Kon started it, so hopefully it’s not? Like–logically it’d follow that Kon wouldn’t touch him anywhere he doesn’t want touched, right?

Well–hopefully, anyway.

The air feels tight, Tim notices suddenly, like the feeling of sinking into deeper pressure when underwater but all at once, and then realizes–oh.

Uh.

Okay.

“Um,” he says, and immediately the feeling of pressure vanishes as Kon jerks back and claps a hand over his own mouth. Which is mostly him pushing Tim back, given their position, but he does crack the brickwork behind him a little.

Whoops, Tim thinks.

“Sorry!” Kon blurts. “Sorry, sorry, that’s–sorry! I just, uh–got a little too into it. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s really not a problem,” Tim says, with absolutely no idea how to take the idea of Kon getting “a little too into it” when kissing him, or the idea that getting a little too into it apparently involves getting wrapped up in TTK a lot more noticeably than making him bulletproof at the museum did. “I mean–it didn’t hurt or anything, I was just surprised.”

“I–yeah, I know, it’s just–weird,” Kon says, still looking mortified. “So–sorry. That’s all.”

“I don’t mind weird,” Tim says, because actually the idea of being temporarily at least as invulnerable as Kon is while making out with him implies being able to devote a lot more attention to said making out, as opposed to keeping half an eye out for snipers or rogues or random rooftop criminals. Not that he’d stop paying any attention to that, obviously, just–yeah. Well.

It’s a little tempting, that’s all.

“Uh–you don’t?” Kon bites his lip, still looking a little embarrassed.

“It kind of just felt like scuba-diving, but with less equipment involved,” Tim says with a little shrug, keeping his tone light because “seriously, you have no idea how much I’d like to not be compulsively keeping an eye out for snipers right now” isn’t a very “civilian” thing to say. “And I’m not about to complain about you enjoying kissing me that much either way.”

“Oh,” Kon says, and flushes a little. “Uh–really?”

“Really,” Tim says, smiling at him again and tugging gently at the lapels of his jacket to pull himself back in. Kon blushes, and grins, and meets him halfway for the kiss. The sensation of pressure wraps him up again, gentle but undeniable, and Tim feels several kinds of ways about it.

Maybe even a little bit safe, or at least as safe as anyplace outside the Batcave ever gets.

Tim knows there’s no such thing as being perfectly, completely safe, but getting all wrapped up in Kon’s TTK and kissed for it makes it hard to remember that.

Very, very hard.

They spend a much longer time making out this time. Tim is vaguely aware that they still have a dinner reservation to make, but . . . well, he did pad the time to allow for window-shopping, so even with the time they spent flying around taking pictures, it's probably fine?

Yeah, no, they’ve definitely missed their reservation by now. Probably way past missed it. Just so, so far past missed it.

Weirdly, Tim doesn’t care as much as he should, even though he really prefers when things go to plan and also needs Kon to feel appreciated and like he got properly spoiled and taken someplace nice. He’s going to have to figure out something else on the fly, though, because he really does needs Kon to feel appreciated and also needs the excuse to get him more used to getting money spent on him and–

Tim remembers that he needs to breathe more than he's currently breathing and breaks off the kiss. Kon half-chases his mouth with his own, audibly breathless himself. Tim is not equipped to handle Kon breathless.

That might actually be more flattering than the TTK thing. Or, uh–flustering, maybe.

Both, maybe. “Both” is probably accurate here.

Jesus, Tim does not know what he did to deserve Kon getting breathless over something he’s done to him, much less all soft and pretty and–

They have definitely, definitely missed their reservation. Usually Tim has a better sense of time than that, but usually Tim doesn’t have Kon wanting to make out on a Gotham rooftop with him, Like, he thinks he can forgive himself a little bit of disorientation on that one, considering.

. . . as long as Bruce never finds out he messed up that bad, anyway. Because Bruce would definitely not like hearing he’d messed up that bad, TTK or not.

Probably especially involving the TTK, actually. Probably Bruce would not take “yeah I let Superboy get distracted enough to unconsciously wrap me up in his Kryptonian-level superpowers while he wasn’t in full control of them and actually, like, encouraged it, kinda? like, explicitly encouraged it, actually”.

Yeah, Bruce would not like that.

“Um,” Tim says, and clears his throat a little awkwardly. “So, uh–hungry yet?”

“You could say that,” Kon murmurs, then flashes him a sharp, wicked grin with his eyes slit open just enough to fix on Tim’s mouth. Tim spares a moment to compartmentalize just enough to not lose his mind about that, then makes the mistake of licking his lips anxiously, sees Kon’s hooded eyes go hot at the sight, and immediately fails to not lose his mind.

“Uh,” he manages, and then decides they don’t really need to get dinner just yet and maybe they could just, like–no, no, Kon is definitely not getting enough calories from that stupid barely-legal underground lab’s stupid definitely-not-health-code-compliant cafeteria, Tim is not gonna be a bad enough date to not get his date a respectable amount of calories. That is just not a thing that he’s gonna, like . . . thing, as a thing. Or whatever.

Not like Superman’s been bringing Kon casseroles or anything, the prick.

“Um, I–uh, might’ve let us get a little too distracted, sorry,” Tim attempts after a moment of mental fumbling, making himself push back from Kon a little and pulling his phone out to check the time. Yeah, they have definitely missed their reservation. Very, very thoroughly have they missed it.

Dammit. That is not Bat-quality situational awareness.

“You think that was just you, man?” Kon asks with a little laugh, just barely ducking his head and biting his lip. It is . . . very distracting. As is his face. And his hands, which are still loosely on Tim’s back, and his TTK, which is still loosely . . . basically everywhere, yeah. Just–way too many places for Tim to be rational about, basically.

“I mean, I was the one who made the reservation,” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly as he does his best to at least fake rationality. “So, uh, I should’ve been paying attention to the time. I can see if there’s someplace we can still slip in, it’s a little last-minute for a Friday but–”

Kon kisses him again.

Tim was saying something, he’s reasonably sure, but he couldn’t remember whatever it was with a gun to his head. A gun to his head while out of his suit and without Kon on the same floor as him, to be clear.

Kon leans back and grins at him, all bright and pretty and cutting right through the shade and shadows of Gotham like a spotlight-signal lighting up the cloud cover. Tim remains vaguely aware of the fact that he was doing . . . something. At some point. In theory.

God, Kon is so pretty. So, so pretty. And everything he’s wearing is something Tim bought him, coat and clothes and jewelry and all. Just–all of it, as far as he can see.

Tim does not let himself think about what else Kon might or might not be wearing right now. Just–that way lies madness, and also Kon not getting a decent dinner and decent spoiling.

. . . there’s probably some other ways Tim could spoil him, technically, if he just–

Tim does not finish that thought.

“You’re so fucking cute, daddy,” Kon says, still grinning just as signal-bright and pretty at him. Tim is not prepared for literally any of that and nearly melts right off the ledge into an incoherent mess of street pizza.

“Uh,” he says, swallowing roughly. “We should–are you hungry yet?”

Kon laughs, for some reason. Tim very quietly and carefully burns alive, and then Kon floats up a few inches and ducks around him and back out into the open air, leaning down to grin at him and reaching to–probably he’s intending to pick him up again, Tim’s brain is vaguely aware, but the rest of Tim is thinking more like hurr durr pretty boy, which is definitely why he ends up reaching up to cup Kon’s face in his hands and tug him down for another kiss, pushing himself up on his toes on the edge of the ledge to reach him easier. Kon makes a soft, breathless little noise, then laughs in delight and kisses him back.

The wind is cold and sharp and the evening sky is all heavy dark clouds and hazy light pollution and Kon’s wearing clothes Tim bought him, some of which Tim even suggested to him, and he put on makeup and painted his nails to come see him and he’s got a gift bag of little things Tim picked out for him hooked in the crook of his elbow and he liked all of those little things, and they’ve not only missed but obliterated their dinner reservation, and they’re half-on a ledge high above the street and kissing and Kon is just so pretty.

And Kon also bought him a camera and brought him up here because he thought he’d like it and called him “cute”, which are all facts that Tim is definitely going to have to compartmentalize to fully process later, or else he really will melt right off the stupid ledge.

The spicy pics thing, also, is a thing. The spicy pics thing is, uh–very much a thing.

Tim is maybe just never gonna process that particular fact in, like, self-defense.

Ever.

. . . god, he’s going to have to process that fact at some point, isn’t he. God. That is . . . that is a whole thing that he is going to have to do. Like, effectively and well and throughly.

Maybe it’s not too late to just go supervillain right now, actually. Maybe Kon would be open to, like, minionhood or something. Lots of supervillains put their minions up in their lairs, right? That’s totally a thing, isn’t it?

Ugh, no, Kon deserves a place he can really feel like is his place and also he has not laid near enough groundwork to get Dick to switch sides. Like, Alfred would, obviously. Alfred will be on-board the second the rusty crowbar and shrapnel bomb plan comes up and will probably have useful notes to add. But Dick is gonna require some more long-term finessing and Babs definitely won’t come if Dick doesn’t and–

Kon laughs into the kiss and cups Tim’s face in return, which is incredibly distracting, and then squishes his face, which is incredibly annoying.

“Hey!” Tim sputters, and Kon laughs again and leans back just enough to grin at him.

“You are so weird, dude,” he says. “I can literally hear you thinking.”

“. . . that’s not me being detached from the situation, I–” Tim starts, unable to repress a wince, and Kon just grins wider, grabs his wrists, and tugs him off the ledge and–oh, okay, that’s a weird sensation, Tim notes, because gravity does absolutely nothing at all to him until Kon’s pulled him into his arms and wrapped him up in them again all easy and secure. .

So that’s . . . yeah, no, “incredibly distracting” isn’t actually gonna cover this one, considering.

“Uh,” he says, blinking a couple of times. That. That is definitely not how Superboy holds Robin.

Frick.

“I just gotta keep you better attached, right, daddy?” Kon purrs–really purrs, his chest briefly vibrating against Tim’s–and then grins wider at him again with eyes that are, unfortunately, literally goddamn sparkling right now–thanks, gold eyeliner, Tim didn’t need those higher thought processes–before giving him another quick little kiss that Tim actually would like to turn into a four-hour make-out session and maybe also a sleepover and–

God he needs to remember how to compartmentalize. He really, really needs to remember how to compartmentalize.

Also he needs to kiss Kon’s literal friggin’ brains out, the smug friggin’ asshole.

Mid-air makeouts are the worst possible idea Kon has ever inflicted on him and Tim would sooner fight Killer Croc without his utility belt than point that fact out to him.

He winds his arms around Kon’s neck and kisses him back, and Kon makes this tiny little–not pleased, not content, but actually happy-sounding noise and kisses back harder. Tim feels gravity stop being a particularly relevant concern again and feels like he’s floating in deep, heavy water but also like he’s the lightest he’s ever been in his life, and it is . . . it is a feeling, alright.

Kon is a menace. Kon is a problem.

Kon is so, so damn cute.

“You are an actual literal brat, baby,” Tim mutters slightly more feelingly than he means to, and Kon’s laugh comes out a little breathier this time and he ducks his head to the side and his face flushes and–

No. Nope. No. Tim needs to not learn anything new about himself or Kon tonight, or, worse, anything about him and Kon. That is just not a thing he has time for in his schedule. He’s got to fit in an anxiety attack and three full files’ worth of casework this weekend, for one, plus his science presentation and that make-up book report, and also come up with someplace else nice enough to take Kon to dinner tonight.

“So, uh–dinner?” he says very quickly–self-defense, again–and Kon bites his lower lip and grins around it, his face still turned just a little bit away. Tim pretends they’re not effectively pressed together from knee to neck right now. Pretends valiantly. “I mean–um, if you’re hungry yet.”

Kon laughs, ducking his head lower, the dangling gold teardrop hanging from his ear gleaming warmly in the murky electric city light. Tim goes through multiple stages of emotional processing to keep himself from kissing his neck right behind that earring and completely forgetting about not only dinner, but all his homework and casework and even the anxiety attack.

Does Kon laugh this much around Robin?

Tim really doesn’t feel like he does.

He also doesn’t tell Robin very important things like the fact that he can make other people bulletproof on a whim and map out an entire mall just by standing in it, which is objectively much worse and potentially dangerous a thing not to do, but also Tim is already positive he’s going to miss that laugh like crazy every time he sees Kon with the mask on.

Robin doesn’t get to see Kon like this at all, even when he lets the asshole eat both stupid boxes of cinnamon bread.

“Dinner, yeah,” Kon says, grinning again and then taking off backwards across the sky, apparently unconcerned about their chances of hitting a building. Tim’s not really in a proper carry so much as just stretched out against him and wrapped up in his arms, but given the nature of how Kon’s powers work, an actual carry is obivously not really a concern, so . . .

Oh, Tim realizes as Kon tips back just enough to be reclining in the air, still flying without any apparent care or concern for the aerodynamics of the situation or anything but staying more or less out of view of anyone on the street below.

Avoiding the street view is good.

The part where now he’s essentially laying on top of Kon is . . . less good, maybe.

Maybe he won’t have to convince Kon to go supervillain, at least. Maybe Kon’s already there.

“Where to, daddy?” Kon asks with a smirk, keeping one arm looped around Tim’s waist and folding the other behind his own head like he’s laying out in a lounge chair on the beach. Tim thinks longingly of smothering him and also of getting him to take down his TTK so he could bite a hickey or five into his neck. Maybe six. He could probably do six.

Or seven.

“Northeast towards Broad Street,” Tim says as he tips his head in the appropriate direction, then pulls up the camera again and snaps a quick shot of Kon’s smug smirk, which immediately breaks into a surprised laugh as the other flushes again.

He takes a picture of that too.

“You flirtin’ again already, man?” Kon asks with a sheepish little laugh, like the bastard has any room to talk.

“The position’s pretty good for it, that’s all,” Tim says with a level of casualness he absolutely does not feel. Kon flushes darker and bites his lip again, still just barely grinning. Tim, ethically, has no choice but to take a few more pictures.

“Oh my god,” Kon says, laughing again and unfolding the arm he has tucked behind his head to hide his eyes behind instead. Tim is maybe a little bit too aware of the line of his throat under the neck of his shirt, without his eyes and the sparkle there to be distracting him into a useless stupid mushbrained might-as-well-be-a-civilian, observationally-speaking. “I’m not a building, you absolute nerd!”

“I said I liked people-watching too, didn’t I?” Tim points out reasonably, though mostly his brain’s occupied with the question of–“Hey. If you let down your TTK a bit, could a baseline-DNA human give you a hickey? Like, is that physically possible, or are you too Kryptonian for that?”

“Oh my god,” Kon repeats, laughing harder even as the flush on his face spreads down his neck. Tim wonders how warm that might feel under his mouth. “I, uh–dunno, man. Maybe?”

Tim silently resolves himself to finding literally any excuse to conduct that experiment and moves a hand to cup the side of Kon’s throat, eyeing it consideringly. Kon makes a slightly weird noise and visibly swallows, and Tim belatedly realizes that he’s paid literally no attention whatsoever to whether or not they’re about to hit a building or a flagpole or a roof this entire flight; he just assumed Kon had it handled. The Bat-paranoia kicks in and he glances up reflexively, and just as reflexively slides the pad of his thumb across Kon’s pulse. Their flight path is clear; they’re high enough to avoid most of the buildings in this area. Definitely still gonna need to keep an eye out for radio towers and billboards, but . . .

Kon swallows again, the gesture a little bit rough this time. Tim feels the other’s throat flex against his palm. That sure is . . . that sure is a thing that Tim feels right there. That invulnerable throat flexing right there against his palm, and maybe not necessarily having to be invulnerable, if Kon didn’t want it to be.

. . . . . . he already said he didn’t have time to learn anything new about himself tonight, dammit.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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heartpiratedrabbles · 8 months ago

Text

An Interesting Wager

Prompt: You go to the casino for the first time and catch the eye of a particular person

NSFW

Crocodile X Fem Reader

You walk into the bustling Casino. It was different from what you had expected. Plenty of machines filled with patrons wasting their money away. Your friends had convinced you to test your luck after beating them a few to many times at cards between all of them. Honestly you didn’t think the games were too hard but you couldn’t back down from a bet to see if you could double the money, they’d given you.

Talking of bets, you’ll admit it was hard for you to back down from a challenge, it’s a part of the reason you had avoided casinos in the first place. You push your thoughts to the back of your mind as you sit in an open seat at a table. A rather tall man in the seat next to you glances down, a cigar hanging from his mouth, “You seem new around here.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and you straighten your back. “First time actually…” A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you glance up at him, “How could you tell.” You brush some hair behind your ear to distract yourself from the eyes boring into you.

The man, who has a scar stretching across his face smirks before leaning back, “It’s always easy to spot fresh fish in the pond. Do you know how to play the game or are you here to enjoy the view?” The smug attitude struck a small nerve with you but you pushed it to the side.

Sighing as you realized you’d have to interact further, although he was nice eye-candy, “Blackjack isn’t that hard of a game to understand…” You smile getting a small idea to test your luck, you glance up and down at the man seeing how lavishly he is dressed before meekly saying, “Although I’ll admit I’m not the best.” You lean forward on the table as you watch the dealer shuffle the cards, keeping an eye on the man beside you.

You see him quirk an eyebrow up, an amused expression on his face, “Not the best huh? Well it does take some practice…” The man leans closer to you, before he whispers, “Unless, of course, you’d like me to teach you?”

You hold back a smirk as your mind rejoices at hooking him on before putting on a gentle smile, “I could never ask you to help me Sir…”

“Crocodile”

Your mind gently recalls the owners of the casino being called Crocodile and races for a second as you think about maybe you’re taking on a large enemy. Glancing up at him, his eyes amused but seemingly aloof, “Sir Crocodile. You must be a busy man; I couldn’t distract you like that.” You display an innocent tone, if he doesn’t leave after this than that’s on him.

Crocodile chuckles, shaking his head slightly, “Don’t worry about that. I like the company. Now then… should we start the game Miss…”

“Y/N.” A smile plays on your lips as you notice the dealer hadn’t started handing out cards until Crocodile motioned for the game to start.

“Y/N… A lovely name,” He sultry voice rings through before turning his attention to the table. He leans over a bit though to continue the conversation, “Let me give you a little tip since this is your first time. Start small, don’t go too big too soon.” His voice sounded daring, “Unless of course, you’re feeling lucky.” A small chuckle leaving his lips as though it’s some sort of inside joke.

You swallow a small lump forming, ignoring his warning as you laugh a bit with him, “Lucky huh?” You stay still, thinking of your options, if you continued, you’d wouldn’t be able to turn back, “Maybe I am… Why don’t we make this a little more interesting? Just between the two of us yea?” You glance up at the casino owners face with a smile played upon your lips.

He raises an eyebrow at your words, a barely-there smile appearing, “Interesting you say? What do you have in mind?” He leans back in his chair, smoke billowing out from his cigar as he stares down at you, almost like a predator staring at their prey.

You choke on your words for a second, “What if…. If I win, you give me anything I want.” A smile falling back on your lips as your display an innocent look. If your friends wanted you to double your money, imagine their looks when you come back filthy rich.

Crocodile cocks an eyebrow at your proposal, intrigued by the idea, “Anything you want…” He thinks about a second smiling, “And what do I get if you lose?” The curious sharp look pinning you in your spot, his low tone giving clear enough warning.

You let out a small gasp, bringing your hands together nervously, you aren’t sure if you’re acting or genuinely nervous anymore but continue regardless, “Well then. I’ll, do whatever you want…” You voice turning to a small mumble as you turn your head away, your cheeks turning slightly red.

You feel his eyes watch you closely, his lips curly into a smirk, “Intriguing. I do like a woman who knows how to make an interesting proposal.” He leans forward, swiping the hair away from your neck as his voice becomes a husky tone, “I’ll accept your challenge Y/N. You win, and I’ll give you anything you want. But if I win…” His eyes trail over your features before continuing, “You’ll have to do exactly as I say. It’s only far. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You swallow again, regaining your voice as you nod your head in agreement, “I don’t intend to lose.” The attempt to show your prowess making Crocodile chuckle slightly as the game begins.

Small remarks are exchanged between the two of you as you continue to play until your chips have run out. Crocodile seemingly reading the dealer’s movements and anticipating the cards as they come. But as your last chip is spent you straighten your back, embarrassed at losing so easily.

Crocodile smiles, seeing the last of your bets disappearing, a predatory grin taunting you before he leans in close, “It seems I’ve won our little wager.” You suck in a breath, your head hanging down as you ignore the blush falling on your face, “You promised anything, and I intent to collect.” He laughs at your timid reactions now that you no longer have anything to bark back at, “Don’t tell me you’re were jesting.” His voice low and dangerous.

You suck in some air, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress, “I don’t go back on my words Sir.” It’s brings a spark of life to you, insulting at the idea of you not being serious of your bets. Crocodile watches you closely, taking note of the nervous seriousness of your tone.

“I must say, I’m quite impressed by your demeanor,” His low whisper hitting you as his hand slides up you arm for a second, “It must takes a great deal of courage to make a deal with me.” His tone turns slightly sour as his eyes narrow when your body shivers slightly, “But remember this. I won’t take kindly to anyone who goes back on their words.” You straighten your back, looking up at him with a small gasp as his hand grips your shoulder firmly, your face turning red from embarrassment.

He watches your subtle movements, enjoying the effect he’s having on you before grabbing your chin to point your face towards him. Despite the gentle touch, enough for you to shrink away, you stay, not wanting to be proven a liar, “I’m glad you understand the gravity of our wager.” His low dangerous tone sends a child down your spine before glancing around. He stands up and starts walking away a short command telling you to follow him hitting your ears.

You quickly take your place next to him, keeping up with his pace. He places his hand on the small of your back, leading you down a maze of hallways until you come upon a secluded room that seems like a private lounge. Crocodile closes the door behind you before taking a seat on one of the couches, lighting another cigarette as he gets comfortable.

You glance around the room before your eyes land on him staring at you. Timidly you go to sit next to him as he gestures you to do so, “So, what is it you want?” Your question coming out as a meek whisper, playing with your hair until it’s over one shoulder to distract yourself from the intense stare.

Crocodile’s eyes glance down at your exposed neck, your hair no longer covering the soft skin, a little lower your cleavage seemingly an open invitation to him. He notices you biting your lips as your eyes go to anyplace that isn’t him. Leaning back, his hooked hand wrapping behind the couch and around you, “What I want.” His voice low and husky as he blows smoke out, “Is to see if you can keep up with me.” The smirk on his lips intensifying as your face turns a darker shade of red from the implication.

Turning slightly to face him more, “And how should I keep up with you?” The innocent enough question as you decide to place a hand on his knee, ignoring the burning heat building up in your body.

He smirks at your timid eagerness, his gaze flickering to the hand now placed on his knee before they drag themselves back to your face. His hand slipping under your chin to point your face towards him as he leans in. “All you have to do…” the brush of his lips barely ghosting yours, “Is to do as you’re told.” A soft kiss falls on your lips before he leans back just enough to say, “And believe me Y/N. I fully intend to test your limits.”

You gulp, your mind racing at what he could mean before glancing at his lips again, deciding to initiate it yourself. A gentle hum to acknowledge his words as you squeeze his thigh slightly. “Just like that. Show me you want this.” The soft command hitting your ears, melting you as you shift your body to kneeling on the couch, deepening the kiss. Hungrily devouring what he’s giving you as your hands roam his chest before you fully straddle his lap.

You feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as a hand gently travels up and down your back, caressing you. The soft approving growl erupting from his throat as you wrap your arms around him, your chest flush against his while a hand tangles its way into his hair.

The battle on tongues drowning out your senses with soft moans from the excitement of such a gentle yet fierce kiss coming from Crocodile. His hand coming to rest on the back of your neck before you decidedly take an experimental grind into the lap beneath you.

A low growl erupting from the man beneath you, feeling his arousal grow as he tightens his hold around you, keeping you close to him. “You are something else…” The lustful voice making you moans slightly as he trails his lips down your jaw and neck before coming back up to meet your lips once again.

You feel yourself growing impatient, wanting more than just to make out, your hands travel down, attempting to unbutton his shirt. A soft chuckle rings through the air as he leans back, allowing you to undress him. His own hand sliding to your thigh, hitching your dress higher and higher. Lifting your hips enough for him to rip the dress off you so he can take in your body.

His lips travel to your clavicle, nipping at the skin, “You’re mine,” soft murmurs hitting your ears, “I’ll make sure you remember that.” You moan at the claim, grinding down once again to feel the cock that is only blocked by a few layers of clothing between the two of you.

His relentless touches to explore your body slowly, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Soft grasps at your breast as the metal of his hook sends shivers wherever he touches. “Such a beautiful woman.” The praise sending your mind to heaven, “And you’re all mine, tonight.”

Your mind perks up at his phrasing, is this really how he treats a single night? This soft, tantalizingly slow pace of getting to know every inch. Admiring every part of you with deliberate touches. The thoughts quickly disappear from your mind as you’re brought back to the present, his thumb running along your panties. One of your hands going to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noises you are making, as buck your hips for more.

Crocodile looks at you with a predatory grin, enjoying every response coming from you before he leans to your ear, “Don’t hold back Y/N.” The whispers driving you crazy, “Let me hear every beautiful sounds you make.” You can only nod your head as his thumb ghosts over your clothed clit.

The soft mewls escaping your lips the more he teases and touches your body before you feel his hook dip into your waistband, tugging slightly as he kisses your lips, “Shall we continue my dear?” His voice low and seductive and making you want to follow every wish he could ever ask of you.

You bite your lips slightly, leaning into his touches as you feel him tear the thin material off you, “W-what would you like me to do?” The breathing question escapes your lips as you stare into his eyes.

A dark smile plays onto his face as he looks watches you, his fingers dipping between your folds, gathering your wetness before slowly dragging them to your mouth. The gentle press enough of a silent command for you to wrap your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as your tongue swirls around his digits, “Show me how much you want this Y/N.” His low tone hitting your ears as you go to suck more of his fingers, “Make me believe you’re completely mine.” Closing your eyes as you flatten your tongue against them, lapping them clean.

The moans revibrating through your mouth as his hook ghosts over your thigh. Crocodiles dark, lustful gaze taking in your seduction as you explore his fingers with your tongue. A soft growl of pleasure and desire leaving his lips as you pick up your pace, “You’re so eager.” Your hands ghosting over his arm as you spread you legs wider, any attempt to feel more at your core.

A sad moan leaves your lips when he pulls his fingers out of your mouth. But you quickly forget of the lack of something to suck when you feel him gently touch your slick folds. Crocodile reveling in how wet you truly are as he teases your entrance. Leaning forward he takes your lips in a passionate kiss as his hooked arm brings you closer to him. A surprised gasp allowing him to shove his tongue down your throat when he finally plunges his fingers into you. You can feel yourself pulse around his digits as he brings you closer to the edge.

Bucking your hips eagerly, you find yourself wanting for more than just his fingers. Tears prick your eyes just as Crocodile finally pulls away, his thrusts stopping, “Sir P-please. Crocodile I want more” The first plea finally leaving your lips cause a grin to appear on his lips. His own arousal almost overwhelming as he feels your body react to his touch.

He adjusts you off his lap, removing his fingers from your wet warmth as he towers above you. “Your wish is my command,” The dangerous glint in his eyes flicking over your body, “But know that there is a price to be paid.” With that he releases himself from the confines of his pants, readjusting you by pulling you closer, your legs willingly wrapping around him.

He kisses your pleading mouth as his tip aligns itself with you, your nails gripping into his back as he presses into you. You open your eyes to see a glint dangerous glint in his before becomes flush against you, the sudden fullness and extreme stretch that you let out a muffled scream. You feel him growl into your mouth as you attempt to catch your breath and relax, slowly getting use to his size. Your nails breaking the skin on his back.

Crocodile feels your body relax beneath him after a while, seemingly use to him before he starts a brutal pace the overwhelming pleasure erupting from you as you arch your back. You pull away from his kiss, instead pressing your forehead against his shoulder while screaming his name.

A hand stroking your hair, soft grunts and coos filling your mind as you hook your ankles together around him, staying as close to him as possible, “You love this don’t you?” Crocodile slightly taunts, taking pleasure in your shaking form sticking close to him, “Love being taken like this, used for my pleasure.” His lips finding your neck, nipping at the supple skin.

You cry out in pleasure, agreeing with him as you buck your hips in an attempt to meet his thrusts. You feel the pressure building, your thoughts filled him only him, “Cro-ocodile. Please, please can I cum?” You beg and plead, leaning back in an attempt to look him in his eyes.

Crocodile stairs down at your fucked out face, grinning at your pleas as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. Leaning closer his lips brush against your ear, huskily he whispers, “Cum for me.” The single commands cause your body to convulse, “Cum for me and know that you are mine.” The claim falling on your ears he presses his hand against your womb, a scream erupting from you as you feel how you tighten around him, how he forces you to stretch.

His hips flushed against you as your body tensing and convulsing around his as you see white as he holds you tightly in place. His own body finding release as you let out a scream of ecstasy, all while he marks and claims you in the most intimate of ways.

It isn’t until you feel your body relax that you truly realize your position. You chest heaving, arms wrapped loosely around Crocodile as his smug face is staring down at you. The immense feeling of being full. You remember his words halfway through, and let out a small chuckle, “Was this the price to be paid?” Your voice hoarse as you rotate your hips, still feeling him inside you and a low mewl escaping your lips as you let your body fall back fully to relax.

You hear him chuckle softly, fingers running through your hair as he holds you close. “This, my dear.” His lips gently kissing your ear before he continues, “Was merely the beginning.” He lips trail down your jaw, “I’m afraid you’ve caught my attention.”

You twist your head, attempting to meet his lips with your own, “Oh? That wasn’t apart of the deal.” A chaste kiss landing on the corner of your mouth as he lets out a growl.

“Deals can be re-worked.”

#One Piece #One Piece Smut #One Piece X Reader #Sir Crocodile #Crocodile X Reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 8 months ago

Text

Mimic

McFoord x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're definitely Katie's child

Hiding the pregnancy had been difficult.

Caitlin had picked up an ankle injury around the same time as she started to show so it was easy to write it off as long-term, hunkering down in the house like some kind of hermit.

Hiding you away for a year had been even harder.

Some fans were eagle-eyed and as a result, you were never posted on any social media. You didn't even come to training. You'd never met any of the Arsenal girls in person at all even though you were approaching eighteen months.

Which was why it was so shocking for everyone involved when Katie got out of the car for a home match against Manchester City with a child on a backpack leash.

As soon as you are on your feet, you attempt to escape but Katie tugs on your leash to stop you in your tracks.

You give her a foul look in return before you're plucked into Caitlin's arms.

The crowd watching the players arrive all scream out questions as they walk inside.

"It's nice to finally meet the little one," Kim says pointedly as the two of them arrive in the locker room.

"You've seen her before," Katie replies.

"Over the phone doesn't count," Kim says," She's a little cutie. You must be proud."

Caitlin watches you from the corner of her eye as you methodically rip everything out of her cubby and throw it on the floor. "Something like that."

"She's just like me!" Katie's been waiting for ages to be able to brag about you so she's lapping up all the attention.

"She has a bit of a temper," Caitlin confesses when Katie runs off to show you to everyone else in the changing room," Definitely gets that from Katie.

"We didn't expect to see her today..."

"Babysitter cancelled. There were no other options. We'll probably just tie her leash to a post and call it a day. She'll wander around otherwise."

"She's restless?"

Caitlin winces. "Feral might be the word. I love her but...Katie calls her a gremlin sometimes."

Kim looks past Caitlin to where you're now chewing on Katie's fingers, methodically biting down on each one as she introduces you to everyone.

"Well...she's certainly Katie's..."

Caitlin laughs. "Don't I know it."

You're being surprisingly tame today, for what it's worth, even as you try to make another break for it. You're yet again pulled back by your kiddie leash and Caitlin is left to marvel over just how steady you are on your feet.

It had been hard hiding you from the fans and even harder to not fold and continue to keep you away from their teammates. That second one wasn't even planned but you'd come out a little sickly and spent a few weeks in hospital.

It was enough to cause Katie to put the entire house on lockdown for months after your birth when getting chest infections became your norm.

By the time you were healthy and fit and coming into your own personality, it was too much of a risk to bring you to practice with all of the cameras around.

Either way, it's all ruined now because Caitlin knows the videos of you walking in on your kiddie leash are all over Twitter.

The cameras are all pointed towards you as Caitlin walks out onto the bench to start the game. Katie crouches down next to you, littering kisses all over your face as you giggle.

"I'll see you in a bit, gremlin," She says," You be good for your Mummy."

You garble out a few noises that Katie repeats back to you with a soft smile.

"You know," Steph laughs," Now that she's been spotted in the wild, you don't have an excuse for Sam and her kid to meet her. I hear her Chook's getting bored of waiting."

Caitlin sighs deeply as you slam two of your blocks together to show Leah the noise they make. "I don't think the world could take it if Sam's Chook and our Gremlin met. It's too much rough play for any pair."

"I think you underestimate Sam's Chook. I heard she's been very helpful and careful since Sam hurt her knee."

"It's not Chook I'm worried about." Caitlin tilts her head towards you where you've started to amuse yourself by kicking Leah's shin, giggling every time your little foot makes contact.

You head whips around as your watch your Mam get tripped nearby, landing with a thud.

You screech loudly and go to march towards her, grumbling and frowning as you go. You're stopped by a tug on your leash and a pointed look from your Mummy.

You recognise that look and point over at where your Mam is dusting herself off. "Fell," You say to Mummy," Mam fell."

Caitlin has to suppress her laughter. You've got a curious blend of hers and Katie's accents. Sometimes you sound fully Australian like Harper when you speak but other times it's like Caitlin gave birth to a mini Katie because your inflection is exactly the same as hers.

You sound like Katie now. You look like her too, hands on your hips and face like thunder.

"Your Mam did fall," Caitlin says as she pulls you closer," But she's gotten up now. She's fine."

You don't look convinced as you throw a nasty look over at the referee who did nothing against the clear foul.

"Do you remember my friend Steph? You met her on the phone before? Can you say hi?"

"Hi!" You chirp, giving her a beaming smile that shows off the teeth you have.

It's kind of funny to reconcile this beaming, happy version of you with the one that was screeching at the ref just minutes ago.

"Hi," Steph coos," It's very nice to meet you in person."

You're still smiling as you nod, bouncing on your feet as Caitlin digs around in your backpack. You seem to know what time it is because you turn that beaming smile from Steph to your Mummy.

"Bottle?" You ask hopefully and Mummy rewards you with a bottle full of milk that you hastily shove into your mouth.

You sit down at her feet as you chug your drink. Mummy runs a soft hand through your hair as you take a break and lean into her, wiggling back until you hit her legs.

You turn to smile at her and she smiles back.

Your drink is all empty in a little bit and you focus back on the football match in front of you. You clumsily climb to your feet in outrage when the referee shows your Mam a yellow rectangle.

You don't exactly know what it is but you know it's bad and you don't like it being shown to your Mam. You screech and throw your bottle, stamping your feet.

"No!" You say loudly and the bench behind you bursts into laughter," No! No! Bad! Bad referee!"

Caitlin buries her head in her hands as she tugs firmly on her leash when you attempt to run onto the field to give the ref a piece of your mind.

"She's definitely Katie's," Steph howls through her laughter.

#woso x reader #mcfoord x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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mechaknight-98 · 2 months ago

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Reflections I: Acceptance (NSFW) FT Karina, Jihyo, Sakura, Moon Sua

Operator’s Notes: "I'm an Otaku bestie" Is it really a Le Sserafim comeback if this page is not releasing a story about Sakura? The goal these pieces is to hype up Authors the operator is currently really enjoying. Also note the Daigo featured in this story is not the same Daigo featured in the Cowboys and ninjas storylines.

As the anniversary of this page approaches its a time of introspection and Change as the operator begins to under who he is, and what he stands for. This semi Anthology will be smut heavy.

Monomainia FT Sakura Miyawaki

"To know others is to know oneself" is something many people don't seem to know or understand, and I get it. I am in a weird spot in that in searching to understand myself, I found the secret to understanding others.

I waltzed into the hotel elevator with an anxious calm that seemed to follow me everywhere I went. the presence of eyes, both seen and unseen made me feel like I had to perform. I had to be "on" but one day I could be off, and hopefully that day would come soon. The elevator dings and spits me out.

I begin walking to my room. the bizarre carpet pattern peculiarly scratches my brain. it's familiar but alien. A link fence of Hexagonal shapes that seems to resemble something in my mind but I can't place it. The color is midnight blue, surrounded by a lighter sky blue, with hard black lines shaping more Hexagons in a greater pattern. It is almost reminiscent of a game board, regardless of when I reach my room. As I enter a young lady is exiting her room. She has dark hair and a smaller stature but her face is remarkably stunning. Her face looks soft like cotton or silk. She walked past with a focused, guarded, and stern face, but when she made eye contact with me her expression became soft and open. She smiles as if knowing she had me under her spell.

"Hello there," she says with an adorable accent

"what's your name?" she asks

"Oh um, Daigo is short for...that's not important what's yours?"

The young woman smirked and said, "Smooth. My name is Sakura." Her plump lips began to curl further into a mischievous smile as she looked at me. She notices the scar across my nose and says,

"that looks bad what happened." I give her a confused look forgetting that I have a gash on my face. when I remember I respond,

"Oh fencing incident." Sakura looks at me interested.

"Oh that's so cool." she blushes and then realizes what she said,

"I mean your fencing, not the scar, although I like it. It makes you look tough and cool," she says with a smile. I smile back and say,

"Really? Thanks." after that, we stand and stare at each other awkwardly, and then I say, "Well it was nice meeting you Sakura. I am going to turn in for the night. You are welcome to join me." Sakura smiles brightly as she says,

"I'd love to but I have a dinner to attend...wait can I ask you a favor?" Sakura says.

I tilt my head and say, "Tell me and I'll consider it."

Sakura smiles, "If I got you a suit, would you be willing to join me on this dinner as a plus one?" I look at her she seems sincere, and she's also very stunning. I consider my options and then say, "Sure."

Sakura smiles and grabs my arm. “Great!” she exclaims, dragging me along with her. As she leads me, I feel like a passenger in my own body, noticing little details about her that make my heart flutter. The way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, the way she waddles when she runs because she’s excited—everything about her seemed designed to be as endearing as possible, and I had to admit, it was working on me.

We get into the car with her driver, and Sakura, with a mischievous smile, settles onto my lap in the back seat. She nestles in close, sighing contentedly. “You’re warm,” she murmurs as she presses her cheek against my chest, then adds with a delighted tone, “And you smell nice.”

I laugh softly, and she looks up at me with the cutest pout. “What’s so funny?” she asks, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Still smiling, I reply, “If you keep this up, I might have to make this relationship a more intimate and long-term one.”

Sakura grins and retorts playfully, “Excuse me, Mister Daigo, but don’t get ahead of yourself. I need to evaluate you just as much as you probably need to evaluate me.”

I nod, my smile widening. “Works for me.”

The car stops in front of a suit shop, and Sakura’s expression shifts to something more serious. “You have 30 minutes to come up with something,” she says with a hint of intimidation before breaking into an encouraging smile. “You got this!”

As I step inside the shop, my plan comes together quickly. Sakura’s wearing a white dress with black accents, so I decide on an off-white suit paired with a black shirt accented by a silvery floral pattern. I race through the store, piecing the outfit together—a cream jacket, matching slacks, and a black shirt with silver accents. For the shoes, I chose white sneakers accented with Caribbean Green, adding a pop of color.

The final touch is the accessories. I opt for silver cufflinks, a watch, and a ring with a Caribbean green stone. To tie it all together, I pick a tie that matches the green from the shoes. As I check out, I glance at my phone and breathe a sigh of relief—7 minutes to spare.

Sakura’s eyes light up when she sees me. “Get changed. I want to see how you look.”

I quickly change, and when I step out, her smile is all the affirmation I need. “Hm, I like it. You look good,” she asserts. I smile back, feeling a surge of confidence as we ride the rest of the way together.

We arrive at the venue, where the air is aromatic but stagnant. The atmosphere inside is thick with various appetites—some more subtle than others. I follow Sakura’s lead, her arm brushing against mine, and an electric jolt of arousal courses through me. I glance at her, feeling confused and slightly dizzy, but she just smiles innocently. Maybe I imagined it.

Seeing my expression, she leans in close, wrapping her arms around mine. Her lips brush my ear as she whispers, “You’re doing so well. Mommy might have to reward you later.” To emphasize her point, she teases my ear with a cautious lick. I take a moment to recover, and when I do, she smiles knowingly and asks, “Did you like it?”

I nod, still reeling from the sensation, as we move further into the venue. Sakura clings to me like a lifeline, her presence both comforting and grounding in this sea of unfamiliar faces.

As I scan the crowd, I notice patterns. The men are dressed almost uniformly in black suit jackets, white shirts, black pants, and black loafers, with white watches and ties that barely introduce any color—mostly reds, blues, and blacks. The women’s attire is similarly monochromatic, with black or white dresses accented by a single color piece or contrasting accessory. All eyes are drawn to Sakura and me as we enter. I catch those gazes—most of them bland and devoid of spark, but a few dripping with disgust and contempt.

Sakura, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents around us, led me to our seats with a smile. As we settled in, two women took their places across the table. One had a stern face and a cold gaze, while the other exuded warmth, almost maternal in her demeanor. The warmer of the two leaned forward with a smile.

"Oh, Sakura, who's this vibrant little peacock you've brought along?"

I glanced at Sakura, catching a fleeting microexpression of annoyance—so brief I almost doubted I saw it. But it was there, a tiny crack in her perfect composure.

"This is Daigo, my plus one for tonight," she replied, her tone smooth but with a hint of steel beneath the surface.

The two women turned to me, offering polite greetings, which I returned just as politely.

"So, Daigo," the colder one, Irene, said with a sharp edge to her voice, "tell us about yourself. It’s not every day Sakura brings someone so... unique."

Sakura’s posture subtly shifted, becoming more guarded, her fingers gripping my arm a bit tighter as if to anchor herself. She cut in before I could respond, "Irene, he’s a little shy, so don’t take it personally if he’s not much of a talker."

I could see that Sakura wasn’t in the mood to do all the social lifting tonight, so I decided to step up.

"I write comics, and screenplays, and I’ve worked on a few games here and there," I said. Their surprise was evident, and I felt Sakura’s grip tighten further, sending that familiar, electrifying sensation surging through me, stronger than before. It hit me so hard that I had to excuse myself to regain my composure.

In the bathroom, I caught sight of a shadow in the mirror, shifting and morphing until it solidified into the form of a man—purple-skinned, with horns, dressed in a red suit jacket, white tie, and black shirt. His eyes met mine, filled with a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

"You’re new around here," he stated, his voice carrying a weight that hung in the air.

I turned to face him directly, but the reflection showed no one behind me.

"Apologies for the confusion," he continued. "I can’t interact with the regular world, thanks to a little self-imposed exile. The name’s Asmodeus. And you are?"

I turned back to the mirror, meeting his gaze. "Nobody," I replied.

"Fair enough. Never trust a demon, after all," Asmodeus said with a knowing smirk. "Yet, you’re different from the rest of them out there. You don’t carry the scent of pining or self-loathing, but something more... potent. Desperation and rage. What’s your story?"

I shrugged, nonchalant. "Sakura brought me here, and she’s pretty captivating."

Asmodeus chuckled, the sound low and almost menacing. "Ah, a joker. Interesting. But let me be clear—I’m the Guardian of this community. If you’re planning to cause trouble, I’d advise against it."

I sighed, feigning exasperation. "Oh, so I’m not part of the community now?"

His eyes narrowed, the air around us thickening. "No, you’re not, and you never will be. You’re an... anomaly."

I couldn’t help but laugh, enjoying the way his calm demeanor cracked. "What is it then? Because I’m Black? No, maybe it’s because I’m American... or could it be—"

He cut me off, his tone sharper now. "It’s because you don’t follow the rules. You spit on tradition and treat this like a game."

"It’s not a game," I replied, my voice dropping to a serious tone. "But it is a competition. Just not with them out there. I’m competing with the man in the mirror."

Asmodeus looked momentarily confused before realization dawned on him. "Ah, yourself."

He laughed again, a sound that sent a chill down my spine. "Well then, Mr. Nobody, I’ll be watching you."

Just then, the door opened, and another person walked in. They froze, their eyes locking onto me—not the demon in the mirror. That confirmed what I’d suspected—I was the only one who could see Asmodeus. The young man leaves hurriedly and I ask Asmodeus,

"Question why is it that I can see you and others can't?"

Asmodeus smiles, "Well I have two theories. One you are a surprisingly strong mage. Or it could be the old fallen angel magic in that those who wish harm to the ones I am guarding. Or it could be something completely different." before the demon man could finish I felt hands grab me and throw me out of the restroom. being out of it for a moment I recovered then shifted my weight. I snapped my fingers and switched to my battle mage armor.

"I knew it. You're Daigovaldo the mage with the stupid names for everything." I sighed as I got up to face the obstacle. He was an unremarkable young man with no real discerning features.

"Who are you...you know what it doesn't matter. I am going to call you Jon, and if you want a fight Jon I will give you one, but keep in mind I don't fight fair." I reply. Jon smiles as he runs up to me. I dodge his first punch before going in to grapple his waist. He backs up a bit too slowly giving me time to switch tactics as I go to trip him. he falls forward onto his face I grab him and suplex him behind me. the floor beneath us cracks, as I look back. Jon's body lay on the floor crumpled. I sigh and then stretch out my left shoulder. I snap my fingers and go back to my suit. thankfully it was still clean.

I walk back to Sakura who smiles when she sees me.

"What kept you?" she asks.

"Um a demon man, and a fight with some random, but don't worry it's handled."

"Great Dinner is about to start and it would be a shame if I didn't have my arm candy present."

I scoff at Sakura's words. "Only Arm candy? Pfft! I'll have you know missy that I am an 8th-level Imagin mage." Sakura smiles at my little brag.

Sakura smiled then whispered, "Not now baby, Mommy needs you to behave. If you do good tonight Mommy promises to treat you right tonight"

I roll my eyes then say, "You're lucky you're so hot. Otherwise."

"Otherwise what baby? you would have stayed in that hotel, not having the time of your life?" I was about to make a snarky remark when Sakura said, "Please be a good boy mommy will treat you right." My brain shuts down for a moment then I sit and smile at her. Irene coughs and we are taken out of our little world.

"Are you two done flirting?" she questions. her plus-one smacks her.

"Babe stop," Izzy said to us. We then to them slightly dazed.

“That scar on your nose is so interesting How did you get it?” Izzy asked uncomfortably.

“Fencing incident,” I reply calmly.

"oh! That's Interesting, usually, fencers wear a bunch of gear, and even then still use blunted weapons. so what were you doing getting such a deep gash? I don't know much about cuts and scrapes but that looks like it hit bone." Izzy said looking at me with a peculiar look.

"Well, what can I say? I was young and dumb and doing actual sabers for once seemed like a good idea, I knew I should have stuck to knives, hatchets, and hammers." I explained.

"You are most peculiar," Irene says.

I nod and say, "It's kinda intentional. I mean why be like everyone else? you are all so much better at it than I am."

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Sakura was smiling.

After the Party

Sakura and I get back to the hotel. she can barely keep her hands off of me, and honestly, I feel the same. While we got in the car very chaste and relaxed it quickly heated as she began to grind her hips into my crotch. Our eyes locked and the spark was lit a blaze. she brought me in for a fiery kiss that was not chaste at all.

I felt her tongue poke into mine and she very demandingly put my hands on her breasts. Not that I was complaining the perkiness combined with the passion of the kiss was a delightful experience overall would recommend it, but that was not enough for Sakura. She smiled as she broke the kiss but it wasn't a happy smile it was the smile of a predator who found its next meal. she brought me in for another kiss as she began to straddle my lap.

"God this suit you picked is so nice plus the shoes and the jewelry. Amazing touch," she said before diving in for another hungry kiss. feeling bold I had my tongue explore her mouth this time, and I felt her moan. when she broke the kiss. she looked at me with hungry eyes before taking off her dress. She wore sexy lace lingerie that contrasted her pale figure.

“Fuck me like you own me, babe,” Sakura demands and I lose all self-control. I slip out of my clothes and align my cock with her unshaven glistening pussy. She looks at me with two pools of lust she calls eyes. I plunge into her claiming her for myself. She moans as I bottom out inside of her. “Oh fuck,” she moans before I stop thrusting her insides greet and accept me like an old friend. As I thrust in and out of her she moans like crazy,

“Fuck you are gonna drive me crazy with that cock you know?” Sakura said as her gaze was locked on mine I thrust into her pussy again and felt sublime as her nails dug into my back.

“Aw fuck baby! Mommy loves what you're doing!” Sakura moans exuberant. Her encouragement pushes me to go deeper in her. As I do I rest my left hand on her breast and my right on her ass. She grits her teeth before saying, “Ah fuck yes you own me. This is your pussy now.” as she speaks she begins to grind into me. I continue my assault on her body until she can't take more. Sakura cums all over my cock. Yelling and screaming as I continued railing her.

Subsequently, when she relaxed she said, “Well continue this in your room!” her eyes lusted over as she looked out the tinted windows to notice the car

Lunar shift ft Moon Sua @dreamcatchers-husband

I woke up next to Kura who was all smiles.

"Morning handsome," she said Happily. I smile back.

“and what would be my pleasure having the cutest girl in the world in my bed today?” I ask

Kura smiles then says, “Well my boyfriend was tired last night when I got home after a long night of supporting me so I figured I might as well give him something pleasant to wake up to.”

“Oh, this is certainly pleasant,” I respond. Sakura smiles brighter then says,

“Well, you're lucky my boyfriend isn't here. he is the toughest guy I know." I smile as I get up.

"I hope he's okay sharing you and his place. this bed is very comfy." Sakura smiles as we both get up and get ready for the day

she looked at my back and noticed a new tattoo...

"OOh what's that?" she says as she narrows her eyes...

"it is Thoth. The Egyptian god of wisdom."

Sakura tilted her head, "Oh a god but isn't that against your beliefs?"

"it would be if I hadn't met him."

"Oh, really when?"

Before I could answer there was a knock at the door. I looked at Kura confused. She shrugged before saying. "Are you expecting anyone?" I shook my head. she pushed me to the door of my apartment as she was only in her bra and panties. I sighed opening the door barely enough.

To my surprise at the door was Moon Sua. She had a desperate look at her.

"Can I come in?" she asked. I raised an eyebrow and turned to Kura who had put on one of the Kimono's she got me. (the size difference between us made it look like a full robe on her.) She nods and I let Moon Sua in

I gesture to the couch and she sits, but she's nervous and fidgety.

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask and she shakes her head. I nod and then look to Kura for guidance.

"I can't believe I am doing this, but I need your help Daigo."

I looked at her dumbfounded then at Kura, then back to Moon Sua.

"With what?"

"Werewolves." Moon Sua said. I laughed and clapped my hands as I got up.

"well if monsters, magic, or machines are a problem you came to the right person," I replied.

"Do you know the clan, and if they have turned DC yet?"

"How'd you know this was about DC?"

"Because I am not dumb," I responded

"So what's the clan."

"The Whale clan of the northeast." Moon Sua said.

I titled my head in confusion "Wait...Really? I could have sworn they were pacifist. Tell me that story,"

"Okay," Moon Sua said.

Flash Back

Moon Sua's gaze lingered on her man. A lustful smile spread across her lips as she leisurely stroked his rod.

"You know they say a man's pleasure spot is in his ass." Moon Sua hints as she takes a long lick along the shaft of DC. DC moans as her vigilant gaze pierces his and her expert hands massage his manhood. Moon Sua opens her mouth and takes DC inch by inch with a tortuously slow pace. DC moans as Moon Sua fully engulfs his rod.

"Ah, Fuck Luna if you keep that up I'm gonna cum." DC gasps as the pleasure rakes his brain to the point of enfeeblement. Moon Sua watched as his precum oozed lazily out of his cock like an active volcano.

“Do it then,” Moon Sua said with dangerous eyes, and DC had no other choice as the pleasure got to him. Moon Sua noticed that his cock was throbbing and that he was close so she attempted to take him deeper and deeper. He pumped his cum down her throat and Moon Sua greedily swallowed it all. After she was done she licked her lips satisfied.

Back to the present

I exchanged a glance with Kura before turning my attention back to Moon Sua, who was visibly anxious.

“Okay, let’s backtrack a bit. How does… well, your morning routine relate to him getting kidnapped?” I asked gently, trying to steer the conversation back to the issue at hand. Moon Sua blushed, realizing she had started to ramble.

“Right, sorry. I got a little sidetracked. After… well, after that, I went to shower, and when I came back, DC was being dragged out of the house by werewhales.” She quickly pulled out her phone to show me a picture, her hands trembling slightly.

I studied the image, recognizing the distinct markings of the werewhale clan. I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

“Oh, great. Just what I needed today,” I muttered before getting up. I dressed quickly, my mind already racing with possible strategies. With a glance back at Kura, I nodded to her reassuringly, then teleported directly to the wereorca den.

It didn’t take long before I encountered one of them, a large wereorca standing guard. She eyed me warily, but I wasn’t in the mood for a standoff.

“Look, I’m here for a guy, about five-eight, blonde hair, goes by DC. Is he here?” I asked, keeping my tone firm yet neutral. The wereorca’s expression softened as she realized I wasn’t here to cause trouble.

“Oh, are you here for the wedding?” she asked, her tone unexpectedly friendly now that she saw I wasn’t a threat.

“Wedding?” I echoed, caught off guard.

She smiled, gesturing for me to follow her. She led me to a room where DC was sitting, looking rather disgruntled. When he saw me, his shoulders slumped in exasperation.

“Of course, it’s you,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

I raised my hands in a gesture of peace. “Hey, man, Moon Sua was worried. She asked me to help out, so here I am. But what’s this about a wedding?”

DC sighed heavily, clearly not thrilled to explain. “I’m the heir to the werebat tribe, and I’m supposed to marry the heir to the wereorca tribe.”

“And you’ve been dating Moon Sua this whole time? Scandalous,” I remarked, trying to process the situation.

“Geez, do you ever take anything seriously?” DC snapped, his frustration evident. “Look, this is a mess, but can you just bring Moon Sua here? She’s the only one who can talk some sense into these people.”

I nodded, sensing the gravity of his situation despite his snark. “Alright, hold tight.” With a quick snap of my fingers, Moon Sua appeared beside me, looking surprised but relieved to see DC.

DC sighed in relief as Moon Sua quickly moved to his side, her presence already helping to defuse the tension. I took a step back, watching the two of them, and couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having helped them, even in this strange situation.

As I stepped out, giving Moon Sua and DC some space, I nearly bumped into someone else. Luckily I was able to catch this person before the fell. When I recovered and was no longer running on instinct I was able to register the other person’s face and color me surprised it was Jihyo from Twice. I paused for a moment then helped her back up. She smiled and then said

“Wow, you're um strong. Thanks for not letting me fall and…Oh, hi! How’s it going?” she asked, her tone light and pleasant.

I managed a smile. “Uh, good… It’s good,” I replied, trying to keep my cool.

She glanced back toward the room. “I see you found DC. Did you get everything sorted out?”

“Well, we’re getting there, but that’s not really what’s important right now,” I said, noticing her expression had dimmed slightly. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Jihyo hesitated, shrugging as if to brush off my concern. “It’s nothing, really.”

I wasn’t about to let it go that easily. “Hey, if something’s bothering you, I’m here to help.”

Before she could protest, I snapped my fingers, teleporting us back to my place. Kura looked up from where she was sitting, her eyes widening in surprise but softening as she smiled at Jihyo. Sakura used to my antics brought some tea over to Mrs. Park.

I glanced over at Kura and Jihyo, who were seated comfortably on the couch. “I’m going to grab some food. Anything specific you both want?”

Kura flashed me a playful smile. “Surprise us.”

Jihyo nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we trust your taste.”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon,” I said, grabbing my jacket before heading out the door. As I walked down the street, I couldn’t help but think about how interesting it was to see those two together. I picked up the pace, eager to get back and see what they might be talking about while I was gone.

As the door clicked shut behind me, the room settled into a comfortable silence. Kura glanced over at Jihyo, who was still taking in the cozy surroundings of my apartment.

“So,” Kura began, tucking her legs under herself on the couch, “how did you end up involved in all this supernatural craziness?”

Jihyo chuckled softly, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s a long story, really. But I guess you could say I kind of stumbled into it. When I was a trainee my friend one of my friends was a wereorca and I kinda was adopted into their clan.”

Kura’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I never imagined I’d meet someone who could say that with a straight face.”

Jihyo laughed, her tension easing. “Yeah, it’s definitely not something I thought I’d be dealing with. But life is crazy…um what about Daigo… he makes it all seem so normal, you know?”

Kura nodded thoughtfully. “He has that effect. He’s been in my life for a while now, and I still can’t believe half the things we’ve gone through. But he’s always so calm, so collected. It’s like nothing ever rattles him. Well except for pretty girls who are nice to him, they always activate his “hero chip”.”

“Oh, so he did the same thing to you? The stammering and short stutter,” Jihyo added with a knowing smile.

Kura blushed slightly, looking down at her hands. “He can be a little overprotective and easily flustered sometimes, but I guess that’s part of his charm.”

Jihyo leaned in a bit closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “So, what’s the story between you two? You seem really close.”

Kura smiled softly, her eyes warm. “We are. We met in a hotel right before I had to go to a major dinner for writers, and He’s been my rock through so much, always there when I needed him. But it’s more than that. We just… get each other, you know? Like we don’t even have to say anything, and we know what the other is thinking.”

Jihyo nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “That’s rare. I think it’s beautiful.”

Jihyo paused for a moment then asked, “So what do you think he's thinking now?”

Kura gave a knowing smile, “I have to help Jihyo, and get breakfast for Kura then help Moon Sua and DC. In that order.”

Jihyo laughed, “Why am I over you?”

“Well, he has a massive crush on you, which is partially my fault because I encouraged it,”

Jihyo chuckled as she asked, “Why?”

“Because he always talks so highly of you from a professional perspective that even though his appreciation went more I couldn't take that from him. He is a Once through and through with a massive Jihyo bias.” Kura explained

Jihyo’s heart fluttered as she said “Oh,”

Kura looked up, her expression turning serious for a moment. “And what about you? Is there anyone special in your life?”

Jihyo hesitated, her thoughts drifting for a moment. “I’m not sure,” she finally admitted. “It’s complicated. But being around Daigo and seeing how he is with you… it makes me wonder if maybe I’m missing out on something.”

Kura reached out, gently placing a hand on Jihyo’s arm. “You deserve someone who makes you feel like the most important person in the world, Jihyo. Don’t settle for anything less.”

Jihyo smiled, her heart warmed by Kura’s words. “Thank you, Kura. That means a lot.”

Just then, they heard the door open, and Daigo walked back in, balancing a couple of takeout bags in his arms.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said with a grin, completely oblivious to the heartfelt conversation that had just taken place.

Kura and Jihyo exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them, before turning their attention to the food Daigo had brought.

Variance FT Jihyo Park and Sakura Miyawaki

The soft clink of dishes filled the room as I carefully set the table. The warm, ambient light casts a gentle glow over everything, making the space feel cozy and intimate. I glanced over my shoulder to see Jihyo and Kura sitting on the couch, chatting softly. Their laughter echoed through the room, bringing a smile to my face as I continued with my task.

As I placed the last plate down, Kura’s voice floated across the room. “Jihyo, do you remember that concert you did in Tokyo last year?”

Jihyo’s eyes lit up. “How could I forget? The energy was incredible.”

Kura leaned forward, her eyes glimmering mischievously. “And that dance move you pulled off during ‘Feel Special’? You had everyone’s jaws on the floor, including mine.”

Jihyo chuckled, her gaze flickering to me for a moment before returning to Kura. “I noticed, you know. You weren’t exactly subtle with your admiration.”

Kura blushed slightly, but her smile didn’t waver. “Well, who could resist? You were magnetic.”

I busied myself with arranging the cutlery, but I could feel their eyes wander over to me—a shared look passing between them that I couldn’t quite place.

Jihyo’s voice softened as she turned to me. “What about you, Daigo? You went to the LA one right? Did you enjoy the show?”

I looked up, meeting her gaze. There was something playful in the way she looked at me, a challenge in her smile. “Of course,” I replied, returning her smile. “All of Twice was incredible. The way you moved on stage… I don’t think there was a person in the audience who wasn’t captivated.”

Kura stretched her arms above her head in a way that drew my attention. “Captivated, huh? I wonder if you were paying more attention to the performance… or to the performers?”

I felt a heat rise to my cheeks but tried to play it cool as I folded the napkins. “Maybe a little of both,” I admitted, earning a laugh from both women.

Jihyo nudged Kura playfully with her elbow. “Looks like we’ve got his attention, Kura. Think we can keep it?”

Kura’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, I think we can manage that. Right, Daigo?”

I glanced between them, their playful banter bringing a warmth to the room that I hadn’t expected. “You two don’t need to do anything special to keep my attention. You already have it,” I said, my voice genuine.

Jihyo stood up and walked over to the table, her movements graceful and deliberate. She reached out, taking one of the plates from me with a smile that sent a flutter through my chest. “You always say the sweetest things,” she murmured, her fingers brushing mine as she took the plate.

Kura joined us at the table, her eyes meeting Jihyo’s with a soft smile. “He does, doesn’t he? It’s one of the reasons I keep him around.”

Jihyo glanced at me, her expression thoughtful. “You’re lucky, Kura. He’s a good one.”

Kura looked at me with a warmth that made my heart swell. “I know. But maybe we’re both lucky.”

The three of us stood there, the space between us filled with unspoken words and shared understanding. It was as if, in that moment, we were all connected by something deeper, something that went beyond words.

As I finished setting the table, a sense of contentment washed over me. Whatever this was between us, it felt right. It felt like home.

As we settled around the table, a slight tension lingered in the air—a nervous energy that buzzed between us. I served the dishes, my hands were just a bit more careful than usual, conscious of every movement.

Kura was the first to take a bite, her expression brightening as she tasted the food. “Daigo, this is really good,” she said, her tone light but genuine. “You’ve got some serious skills.”

I smiled, trying to downplay the compliment. “Just wanted to make sure you two were comfortable. It’s nothing special.”

Jihyo took a bite as well, nodding in agreement. “I’d say it’s pretty special. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

A moment of silence followed as we all focused on our plates, the clinking of silverware the only sound in the room. I could feel the weight of unspoken words, questions none of us were quite ready to ask.

“So, Jihyo,” Kura began, her voice slightly more hesitant than usual, “what’s it like leading Twice? I imagine it’s a lot to handle.”

Jihyo smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s… intense, but rewarding. I love my members, and I try my best to support them. But yeah, it can be overwhelming at times.”

Kura nodded, her gaze softening. “I bet. But from what I’ve seen, you’re doing an amazing job.”

Jihyo’s eyes flickered to mine, then back to Kura’s. “Thank you. That means a lot, especially coming from someone like you.”

I watched the interaction, noting the way their eyes met and how their hands lingered just a little too close when Kura reached for the salt. There was something there—something more than just casual friendliness—but none of us seemed ready to address it. It made me feel a dip in my heart, almost like I was watching myself be replaced.

“Daigo,” Jihyo’s voice broke through my thoughts, “what about you? What’s been on your mind lately?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Oh, uh, just the usual, I guess. Thinking about taking a break soon. Maybe a trip somewhere quiet.”

Kura tilted her head, curiosity in her gaze. “Where were you thinking of going?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Somewhere peaceful. Maybe the mountains, or a beach.”

Jihyo’s eyes lit up, her tone casual but with a hint of something more. “That sounds nice. Maybe… maybe we could join you?”

My heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, and I noticed Kura’s eyes widen just a bit like she hadn’t expected Jihyo to voice what she might have been thinking herself. It was an odd expression that made my heart and stomach twist in confused knots.

“Yeah,” Kura added, her voice a little too eager, “that could be fun. Just the three of us, getting away from everything.”

The idea hung in the air, heavy with implications. I looked between the two of them, trying to gauge their reactions. Jihyo was looking down at her plate, a faint blush on her cheeks, while Kura was biting her lip, waiting for someone to break the silence. There was an air of affection between us, but I was unsure how to address or diffuse it.

“I… I’d like that,” I finally said, my voice sounding more uncertain than I intended.

Jihyo glanced up, her eyes meeting mine with a softness that made my breath catch. “Me too,” she murmured.

Kura nodded, her smile more shy than usual. “It would be nice. Just to get away for a bit.”

We fell into another stretch of silence, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like we were all thinking the same thing but weren’t quite ready to say it out loud. The unspoken attraction, the curiosity about what might happen if we took that next step—it was all there, simmering just below the surface.

As we continued eating, the conversation remained light, but the tension never really went away. Every now and then, I’d catch one of them glancing at me or each other, their eyes holding something unspoken. I knew they could feel it too—that strange mix of excitement and uncertainty that comes with realizing you might be falling for someone, or in this case, two someone.

When we finally finished the meal and moved to the couch, I felt a bit of relief that the focus shifted from the awkward tension to something more familiar—just the three of us, sharing a quiet moment. But even then, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting between us, something we’d have to face sooner or later.

As I watched them laugh together, their shoulders brushing more often than necessary, I realized I didn’t mind the idea of that shift. I was starting to look forward to it. We all ended up on the couch watching Alien 3 at Sakura’s insistence (despite her scaredy-cat tendencies).

The movie, at least to me, was quite funny. It was a back-to-basics Alien film that suffered from typical problems: character bloat, protagonist nerfing intelligence, and that abomination in the third act reminded me of the orphan Kos. This led me to laugh throughout major tension points, making it harder for the girls to get scared. Both nestled closer to me and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sakura and Jihyo holding hands. I decided to let them have their moment for now.

At some point after the movie, we sat in silence, nestled close to each other. The heat mingling between us made being under them a bit too warm for me, so I had to excuse myself.

When I returned, both ladies had fallen asleep. I smiled watching them entwined in their little hug before getting them a blanket to share—ironically, my "Ready to be Blanket."

I tucked both young ladies in on the couch and went to my room, where I attempted to get some sleep. This mountain trip couldn't come soon enough.

Weeks passed, and these feelings only grew between us. The mountain trip eventually turned into a Jeju trip, and on the day we were leaving and packing, it all hit me at once: I loved Jihyo and Sakura. I tried to process what that meant or how that worked but was interrupted by Jihyo saying, “Come on, slowpoke—we have a plane to catch.” I nodded and finished packing to follow them.

We arrived at the cabin four hours later, and it took another half hour to finish unpacking. The sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as I placed the last of our bags down. The beach house was quaint, with a cozy, rustic charm that perfectly complemented the breathtaking view of the ocean stretching out before us. The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to our activities.

Sakura’s POV

I glanced up from the counter, my eyes drifting to Jihyo, who stood on the deck, her silhouette bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. It was a sight that made my heart ache with a sweet, aching feeling. I’d been spending a lot of time thinking about how everything had shifted since we arrived here. A new kind of closeness was forming between us, something both exhilarating and terrifying.

As I reached for a jar of jam, I caught myself smiling. This place, this moment, seemed to heighten everything I felt for Daigo and Jihyo. I knew I was falling for them, but I was still grappling with how to navigate these feelings. Did they feel the same way? Did Daigo’s heart race like mine did when he looked at us?

Jihyo’s POV

I leaned on the deck railing, my thoughts drifting as the sun dipped lower in the sky. The view was mesmerizing, but it was the company that made everything so special. I could feel a new intensity between us, a connection that seemed to deepen with every shared glance and every touch.

I stole a glance back into the house, where Sakura and Daigo were finishing up. The way Daigo looked at Sakura, with that tender, almost protective gaze, made my heart flutter. And when he looked at me, it was with a warmth that made me question my feelings. Could it be possible to want both of them, to be this close to them and not feel like it was too much?

Narrator’s POV

I finished tidying up and made my way outside, joining Jihyo on the deck. As I approached, I couldn’t help but notice how the setting sun highlighted her features, making her look even more captivating.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual as I leaned against the railing beside her. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Jihyo turned to me, her eyes reflecting the sunset. “It is. I’m glad we came here. It feels… peaceful.”

I nodded, my heart skipping a beat as I felt the closeness between us. “Yeah, it’s exactly what we needed.”

The silence between us was comfortable but charged. I could sense the same tension that had been building since we arrived—an unspoken acknowledgment of the feelings we all harbored but hadn’t yet voiced.

We arrive at that cabin 4 hours later and it takes another half hour to finish unpacking. The sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as I finished unpacking the last of our bags. The beach house was quaint, with a cozy, rustic charm that seemed to perfectly complement the breathtaking view of the ocean stretching out before us. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to our activities.

Sakura was in the kitchen, humming softly as she organized our groceries. Her light laughter carried through the open space whenever she accidentally bumped into something or dropped a utensil. I could see Jihyo out on the deck, taking in the sunset with a wistful look on her face.

Sakura’s POV

I glanced up from the counter, my eyes drifting to Jihyo, who was standing on the deck, her silhouette bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. It was a sight that made my heart ache with a sweet, aching feeling. I’d been spending a lot of time thinking about how everything had shifted since we arrived here. There was a new kind of closeness forming between us, something that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Jihyo’s POV

Narrator’s POV

I finished tidying up and made my way outside, joining Jihyo on the deck. As I approached, I couldn’t help but notice the way the setting sun highlighted her features, making her look even more captivating.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual as I leaned against the railing beside her. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Jihyo turned to me, her eyes reflecting the sunset. “It is. I’m glad we came here. It feels… peaceful.”

I nodded, my heart skipping a beat as I felt the closeness between us. “Yeah, it’s exactly what we needed.”

The silence between us was comfortable, but it was also charged. I could sense the same tension that had been building since we arrived, an unspoken acknowledgment of the feelings we all had but hadn’t yet put into words.

Sakura’s pov

I watched them from the kitchen window, feeling a pang of longing. Seeing Daigo and Jihyo together like this, the way they shared that quiet, intense moment, made my heart ache with a bittersweet desire. I was caught between wanting to bridge the gap and fearing that any move I made might disrupt the fragile balance we were all trying to maintain.

I took a deep breath and decided to join them. I stepped out onto the deck, the cool evening breeze ruffling my hair. “Isn’t it getting a bit chilly out here?” I asked, trying to break the tension. “I thought we could start a fire and roast some marshmallows.”

Daigo looked up, his eyes meeting mine with a soft smile. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll get the fire started.”

Jihyo’s gaze lingered on Daigo for a moment before she turned to me, her eyes shining with an emotion that made my heart race. “I’ll help you with that,” she said, her voice gentle but filled with an undercurrent of something deeper.

As we set up the fire pit, the conversation flowed naturally, but the unspoken feelings between us hung heavy in the air. Every touch, every glance, seemed charged with meaning. We laughed, we talked, and we enjoyed the simple pleasure of being together, but the underlying tension was never far from the surface.

Narrator’s POV

As the fire crackled and the warmth spread through the cool evening air, I watched Sakura and Jihyo interact. The way they looked at each other, the gentle touches, and the shared laughter, it was clear that our feelings were intensifying. I wanted to be honest with them, but the fear of complicating things or hurting anyone held me back.

In the back of my mind, I knew that we were on the verge of something significant, something that could either bring us closer together or drive us apart. I just hoped that, whatever happened, we’d all come out of this with our hearts intact.

For now, we were here, enjoying each other’s company and the beautiful night. And while I wasn’t ready to confront my feelings fully, I was grateful for this moment, this night of shared warmth and closeness. After dinner Jihyo and Kura were sitting at the table, As I stood in the kitchen, pouring drinks, my mind kept drifting back to Kura and Jihyo. There was a warmth between them that I couldn’t ignore, a connection that had started to form almost without any of us realizing it. It was comforting, but at the same time, it terrified me.

I’ve always tried to keep things simple, especially when it comes to relationships. But this… this wasn’t simple. Not at all.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the uncertainty creeping in. Sakura and I had something special. She’d been by my side through so much, and I never wanted to do anything that might hurt her. But then there was Jihyo—bright, kind-hearted Jihyo, who seemed to fit so effortlessly into our lives. Every time I saw her, my heart did this little flip, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Could I feel this way about both of them? Was it fair to either of them?

As I walked back toward the living room, I paused just outside the door. Their voices carried through the slight crack, and I couldn’t help but listen.

Jihyo shifted on the couch, turning slightly to face Kura. “You know,” she began, her voice soft and thoughtful, “I’ve never really done anything like this before.”

“Like what?” Kura asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Like… spending time with someone who feels so—" Jihyo hesitated, searching for the right word, "right. And not just one person, but two.” She bit her lip, glancing down at her hands. “It’s confusing, but in a good way, I think.”

Kura smiled, her eyes warm as she reached out to gently touch Jihyo’s arm. “I know what you mean. It’s like everything just clicks, doesn’t it? With Daigo, and with you… It feels like there’s something here worth exploring, even if it’s a little scary.”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn’t realized how much this was weighing on them too. Kura was always so composed, so sure of herself. And yet, even she sounded hesitant like she was stepping into uncharted territory.

Could this work? Could I be with both of them and not end up hurting everyone involved? The thought of hurting Kura made my chest tighten. And Jihyo… what if I ended up causing her more pain than anything else?

I’d never been this unsure before. I’d faced monsters and dealt with magical disasters, but this… this was something else entirely. My feelings for both of them were real, but how could I possibly reconcile them without ruining everything?

Jihyo looked up, her gaze locking with Kura’s. “I think about him, and I think about you, and it’s like… I don’t have to choose, you know? It doesn’t feel wrong, it just feels… different.”

Kura nodded, her thumb gently stroking Jihyo’s arm. “It is different, but maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe it’s something special.”

Their words sent a shiver down my spine. This wasn’t just about me—this was about all of us. And yet, the idea of them both feeling the same way I did, of them wanting this to work as much as I did… it was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

But there was still that nagging doubt. I’d always wanted to be the kind of person who could protect those I cared about, who could be there for them no matter what. But what if this time, I was the one who needed protecting? What if I wasn’t strong enough to keep things from falling apart?

I took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped back into the room.

Kura’s hand slipped from Jihyo’s arm to her hand, their fingers mingled as I meandered in with their drinks.

“One chocolate milkshake for you (I hand it to Jihyo) one vanilla shake for you (I hand it to Sakura) and one Oreo shake for me,” I say as I dole out drinks and scoot in between them. Jihyo takes her first sip and coos.

“Oh, Daigo how did you accomplish this? It's so good.” Sakura nods as she takes her first sip. I smile as I reply

“Well love a magician never reveals his secrets. As soon as I said that the atmosphere changed. The tension between all of us became taught.

“Oh I'm love now,” Jihyo teased seductively as she put her hands on my thigh. I turn to Sakura who's super into this. “I thought love was reserved for girlfriends according to you Mr…what is your last name again?” I swallowed hard as I felt Kura nude me towards Jihyo. My heart races as our faces get closer. My gaze lingers on Jihyo's lips and I can't help it. I kiss Jihyo. Jihyo moans into the kiss

“Hey, are you done?” Kura asks flirty my mind breaks, and I run Out of the house.

I kinda black out from the adrenaline and come to the next day.

The first light of dawn broke over the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow across the beach. I woke early, unable to shake the restlessness from the previous night. The tension between Jihyo, Sakura, and me had only grown more palpable, and I needed to clear my head.

As I stood up, the cool morning air greeted me, refreshing and invigorating. I walked down the sand toward the edge of the water, where the waves gently lapped against the shore. It was a serene scene, but I found little solace in it—until a familiar presence made itself known.

Thoth appeared beside me, his form taking shape out of the morning mist. The Egyptian god of wisdom, now in his human guise, looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Good morning, Daigo,” Thoth said, his voice a soothing blend of authority and calm.

I turned to him with a half-hearted smile. “Morning, Thoth. I didn’t expect to see you so early.”

Thoth inclined his head slightly. “I thought it would be beneficial for us to have a quiet conversation before the others wake up. There are things on your mind, are there not?”

I sighed, my gaze returning to the horizon. “Yeah, there are. Things have been… complicated lately. I’m trying to figure out my feelings for these two girls I'm in love with: Jihyo and Sakura. It’s just—” I paused, struggling to find the right words.

Thoth’s expression remained attentive and calm. “Complicated, indeed. It seems that your heart is caught in a delicate balance. Care to share more?”

I began walking along the water’s edge, Thoth matching my pace. The sand was still cool beneath my feet, and the rhythmic sound of the waves provided a gentle backdrop to our conversation.

“I care deeply for both Sakura and Jihyo,” I said, my voice heavy with emotion. “But I’m worried that my feelings might be unfair to either of them. I want to be honest and loyal, but I’m afraid of causing harm. And then there’s the fear of them finding out that I’m struggling with my feelings.”

Thoth listened intently, his gaze fixed ahead. “It is commendable that you consider their well-being so thoroughly. However, it is also important to acknowledge your feelings. You cannot truly honor your relationships if you are not honest with yourself and with them.”

I nodded, taking in his words. “I know. It’s just hard to find the right balance. I don’t want to make any mistakes that could hurt them.”

Thoth’s gaze softened a rare display of empathy for a deity known for his wisdom. “Understand that being honest and true to your feelings is not a mistake. It is the path to clarity and genuine connection. If you navigate this journey with integrity, you will find a resolution that honors both your heart and theirs, but you haven't answered my question how do you feel about them?”

I shrugged and said, “I love them.”

Thoth nodded and asked, “Well why do you love them?”

“Well, it's complicated. My feelings are intense but they don't overlap,”

Thoth tilted his head and then said, “Tell me more.”

I thought for a moment then began to pour my guts out.

“I love them because Sakura makes me feel like I'm a normal person and Jihyo makes me feel normal.”

Thoth turned to me and said, “Explain”

“Both girls are these ambitious talented hard workers who have been in the idol industry forever. They may have wavered but remain strong and unbroken despite the years of sadness, sometimes abuse of hope, and standing strong despite it all.

Jihyo is the leader of the most powerful girl group in the world that has been on top for ten years. Yet she is still kind and ambitious in trying to prove herself despite the accolades and success. Sakura has been an idol since she was a kid and has consistently shown she is a force in and of herself not to be trampled with nor trifles, and what am I? Some loser mage from a wasteland. Sure I'm a powerful mage and a decent writer but I'm not nearly as great as them.” I reply. Thoth smiles and asks

“Why do you think that?”

“Because fundamentally I am not a good person. What drives me is an unrelenting yearning to be the best and for there to be no one else close. Why do you think I am always watching and researching other writers and mages I don't want to fall behind.

I had to carve a lane for myself and build it from nothing somehow I made it (surprisingly) but it was not from a place of altruism or kindness it was because I wanted it more than my peers. Same with Sakura and Jihyo. I am 100% sure in my delusion that I want them more than others and I took my chances and made my calculated moves to “get them”

Please note while I am a fundamentally despicable human being I believe that you should respect the autonomy of others, and that is where my hesitancy comes from. I want what I want and I'll do whatever it takes to get it, and my biggest fear is hurting those close to me in that pursuit. That's what makes me the best and the worst at what I do. There is nothing I'm not willing to do for what I want. Now getting back to the original point. Sakura is so self-assured and calm in herself that I don't feel like a monster around her like I don't feel like this Machiavellian villain, and with Jihyo she makes me feel like I am okay the way I am. She's encouraging and understanding and has the same fire I do. So if you're expecting me to choose I can't because I want them both.” I yelled. I didn't have a reason to yell but something about this conversation riled me up and once I was up I yelled. Thoth smiled knowingly and said well If that's the case some ladies are waiting for you. Let's head back to them,” he said

We continued walking, the silence between us now more contemplative. I watched as the sun slowly climbed higher, its light warming the sand and the waves. The peaceful morning seemed to amplify the gravity of our conversation, but it also provided a sense of calm.

“I appreciate your guidance,” I said after a moment. “It helps to have a clearer perspective.”

Thoth nodded, his form shimmering slightly in the light. “Remember, Daigo, the journey of the heart is rarely straightforward. It is a path of growth and learning. Trust in your judgment, and be vulnerable with those you care about.”

I turned to him, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Thanks, Thoth. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As we approached the end of the beach, Thoth’s form began to fade, his presence receding like the morning mist. “I shall leave you to your thoughts. May the clarity you seek find its way to you.”

With that, Thoth disappeared, leaving me alone once more. The morning felt a little lighter, and the path ahead seemed clearer. As I walked back toward the beach house, I felt a renewed sense of determination to face the complexities of my feelings with honesty and courage.

I arrive a little later to see my—wait, did I just think “my”?—girls sitting on the couch. Their faces are a mix of worry and determination. As I open the door, they both look up, and I’m met with two very different expressions. Jihyo’s face lights up with the brightest smile, while Sakura’s is stern, frustration etched in her eyes.

“There you are,” Jihyo exclaims, practically leaping from the couch as she runs toward me. Her smile is like sunshine breaking through the clouds. But then I catch Sakura’s expression again, and it’s like a storm is brewing just behind her eyes.

“Where have you been?” Sakura asks, her tone sharp with annoyance. I shrug, unsure how to respond. The truth is, I’ve been running—not just physically, but emotionally. And I know Kura can see right through me.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she snaps, her frustration boiling over. “You ran away after kissing Jihyo—why?”

I open my mouth to answer, but the words catch in my throat. What can I even say? That I’m scared? That I don’t think I’m good enough for them? That the kiss with Jihyo left me reeling, not just because of what it meant for us, but because of the weight of what I felt.

I try to piece together a response, but my thoughts are jumbled, each one more uncertain than the last. My hesitation only seems to make Sakura more frustrated. “You know what? We are not doing this anymore,” she says, her voice firm. “Jihyo likes you and me. I like you and Jihyo. And you like Jihyo and I. So here’s what we’re going to do—we’re going to stop this weird dancing around our feelings, and we’re just going to be together.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with certainty. I look at her, then at Jihyo, who’s blushing shyly but nodding in agreement. My heart is pounding, and the room suddenly feels too small, too warm. I want to say something, to tell them how much this means to me, but all I can manage is a deep, shaky breath.

“Are you sure about this, Kura?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. My question is more than just about our relationship—it’s about whether I’m worthy of it, whether I can be what they both need.

Sakura rolls her eyes, but there’s a softness to her gaze now, a gentleness that tells me she understands. “Yes, I’ve never been more sure of anything else,” she says. But before she moves closer, she hesitates, her tough exterior faltering for just a moment. “Daigo… we’re sure. We know what we want. But do you?”

I look at them, really look at them. Jihyo, with her radiant smile that always seems to melt my worries away, and Sakura, with her fierce determination, challenges me in ways I never thought possible. The room feels warmer, the golden light from the setting sun casting a soft glow over everything, making this moment feel almost surreal. Yet I still hesitate. Sakura looks at me seeing the worries in my eyes and reassures me,

"Daigo it will be fine. We will be here with you." as Sakura speaks she grabs my hand tighter something Jihyo mirrors as they pull me closer. Do I deserve this? Can I really make them happy? These thoughts swirl in my mind, but then I see the way they’re looking at me—with hope, with trust. And suddenly, it’s not about whether I’m worthy. It’s about whether I’m brave enough to take this leap with them.

I nod, a small, tentative smile forming on my lips. “I want this too,” I finally say, my voice stronger now. “I want you both… more than anything.”

A wave of relief washes over Jihyo’s face, and she steps closer, her hand reaching for mine. I take it, our fingers intertwining, and in that simple touch, I feel a sense of belonging that I haven’t felt in a long time.

Sakura steps forward too, her tough exterior melting away as she places her hand on top of ours. “Then let’s kiss, makeup, and maybe do a little more,” she says, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

For a moment, we just stand there, the three of us connected by our hands, the air thick with anticipation. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, we all lean in at the same time. The kiss is gentle at first, a soft, tentative meeting of lips that deepens as the last of our doubts melt away. The world outside fades, and all that’s left is the three of us, together in this moment.

The kiss ends, but we don’t pull away entirely. Instead, we stand there, our foreheads resting against each other’s, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. “This is just the beginning,” Sakura murmurs, her voice filled with a quiet determination. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Jihyo nods, her hand tightening around mine. “Together,” she echoes, her voice soft but sure.

And as I stand there, surrounded by the warmth of their presence, I finally allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I’m worthy of this love we’ve found. We enter into another messier sloppier three-way kiss that is raw, emotional, and intense. I am unsure who or where to send my affection except just out. Sakura on the other hand is much better at maneuvering this tangle of mouth and limbs her lithe body carefully weaves in between Jihyo and my hair as she devours us barely leaving us any time for breath. when this kiss breaks we pant and are left…excited. Sakura licks her lips and says, "Now my two shy extroverts. We are going to take this to the bedroom." she says as she leads us in a lust-filled trance to the bedroom. As we walk clothing is abandoned and we are all left bare by the time we reach the bed. The room began to reek of arousal. I looked at both my girls and couldn't decide which to taste first. Then Sakura groaned “fuck Daigo, fuck Jihyo first fucking claim Jihyo. Mold her pussy to your cock like you did mine,”

I approach Jihyo and her eyes flutter. she stares into mine.

"be gentle," she says, before I plunge into her, and holy fuck she is tight. we both moan as I can barely get the tip in, "Ah fuck why are you so big?" Jihyo moans.

I chuckle and send back, "Fuck why are you so tight?" Sakura laughs as she watches with hungry eyes from the corner. As I inch closer Jihyo's moans grow more intense and it feels like she is growing tighter.

"Fuck Ji, are you getting tighter." Jihyo at this point is lost in the pleasure of the moment yelling for me to keep going but fuck it's hard. she resists me at every inch with an indescribable tightness that blends pleasure and pain in my mind. I want to pound her pussy but fuck.

I inch a little deeper and at this point, the needy sub screams as she grabs my ass and forces me inside of her. She screams as I bottom out and I moan from her tight squeeze. Sakura laughs in the bathroom as she plays with herself leisurely.

Jihyo turns to Sakura, "Fuck is this what it was like when he fucked you for the first time?" Sakura shakes her head, and Jihyo rolls her eyes before turning back to me.

"So what are you gonna do now?" she invites. I lift Jihyo, "Oh," she says as I grab her waist and let gravity do the work. she moans and groans as I ravage her. She grips tightly onto my shoulders as she says, "Oh fuck" repeatedly.

Her pussy begins to leak and throb around my cock as we continue I feel our heartbeats synch for a moment, and I know she's mine. She opens her eyes and says, "Cum in me please baby." I smile as I keep thrusting.

I decide to do something I don't normally do I use my powers to make the sensation more intense for her. I fill my hands with energy that I then pour into all of her erogenous spots, and Jihyo goes crazy.

"Oh fuck Daigo if you keep doing that I am gonna," she yells before I feel her release. She moans one last time before cumming all over my cock. when she stops breathing heavily her eyes lock with mine and she says.

"You're mine." then she turns to Sakura who has a funny smile and says, "You both are."

Sakura gets up and then strokes my cock before saying, "Come on Ji take his first load." Jihyo's eyes narrow as lust takes us all into a trance.

Jihyo straddles me and takes me in with a bit more ease this time. she moans as she starts riding me seriously. I match her pace as both girls reportedly chant "Cum". the encouragement plus the tightness of Jihyo make sure I am not long for this world as I just explode into my girlfriend. Sakura and Jihyo smile as Jihyo gets off me before going to kiss Sakura. the two women begin to grope and squeeze each other intensely as their bodies get a feel for each other. the two stare into each other's eyes passionately before dipping their fingers into each other. I watch with contentment and compersion also while quickly becoming hard again. my two girlfriends keep kissing before aligning their pussies and rubbing them together.

the two wordlessly grind into each other as they go back to kissing each other Sakura moans as Jihyo's eagerness overtakes her and she begins to really up the pace. in their syncopating rhythms I watch as their bodies bounce and pull into each other, as they near their climaxes I hear Sakura says, "Fuck I love you both." I look at her and Jihyo before realizing this is the first time she has said that. I sit in that revelation for a bit as Sakura moans as she cums on Jihyo. After the two of them exhaust themselves they crawl over to me and say, "Was that so bad?" I shake my head as both women nuzzle in close.

After the initial rush of emotions and the shared kiss, the three of us find ourselves sitting on the couch. The atmosphere is lighter, but there’s still a sense of seriousness lingering in the air. We know that while our feelings are clear, the reality of navigating a relationship like this requires more than just passion—it requires understanding, communication, and trust.

Jihyo is the first to speak, her voice calm and thoughtful. “So… now that we’ve agreed to be together, I think it’s important that we talk about how we’re going to make this work. I mean, this is new for all of us, right?”

I nod, appreciating her directness. “Yeah, I think we should. We’ve got to make sure we’re all comfortable and on the same page.”

Sakura, who has been leaning back against the couch, sits up a little straighter. “Definitely. I know we’re all excited about this, but I don’t want anyone to feel left out or uncomfortable. We need to set some boundaries and talk about what we expect from each other.”

Jihyo turns to look at me, her eyes soft but serious. “For me, the most important thing is communication. I don’t ever want us to feel like we can’t talk to each other about how we’re feeling, even if it’s something difficult. We’ve got to be open, even when it’s hard.”

I take a deep breath, considering her words. “I agree. I want us to be honest with each other, even if that means having tough conversations. If something’s bothering any of us, we should feel safe bringing it up.”

Sakura nods. “Absolutely. Along with that, I think we should talk about physical boundaries too. Like, how do we want to handle intimacy? Are there any things we should be mindful of, like who’s comfortable with what?”

Jihyo blushes a little, but she doesn’t shy away from the topic. “I think it’s important that we’re all on the same page with that. Maybe we should start slow, and make sure we’re all comfortable before taking any big steps. And we should always check in with each other, make sure we’re okay with whatever’s happening.”

I glance between them, feeling a sense of responsibility settle over me. “I think that’s a good idea. We should be respectful of each other’s comfort zones. And if any of us ever feels like something is moving too fast, we should speak up.”

Sakura looks thoughtful for a moment before adding, “And what about time? How are we going to make sure we’re spending enough time together, both as a trio and individually?”

Jihyo nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s important too. We should make sure we’re balancing our time so that no one feels neglected. Maybe we can set aside specific times for us to all hang out together, and also make sure we have one-on-one time with each other.”

I appreciate how considerate they’re being about this. “That sounds good. I don’t want anyone to feel like they’re getting less attention or that they’re not important. We’re all in this together, and we should treat it that way.”

Sakura smiles, her expression softening. “I’m glad we’re talking about this. I want this to work, and I think we can do it as long as we’re honest and respectful with each other.”

Jihyo reaches out, taking both of our hands in hers. “Me too. I know this won’t always be easy, but I believe in us. We just need to keep communicating and being there for each other.”

I squeeze their hands, feeling a deep sense of connection with both of them. “We’re going to make this work,” I say, my voice filled with determination. “No matter what challenges come our way, we’ll face them together.”

Sakura leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Jihyo’s cheek before turning to do the same to me. “Together,” she echoes, her voice filled with conviction.

Jihyo smiles, her eyes shining with emotion. “Together,” she agrees, her voice a whisper but filled with certainty.

Obsession ft Karina @entername322

After finishing the household chores, I arrived at the Arcade as usual with 25 dollars and a hand. I approach the teller: a young man by the name of Dexter but everyone calls him DC.

"Hey, Daigo. You hear for tokens?" He asks and I nod. I slide him the 25 dollars and he hands me the tokens.

I go to the back of the arcade where the "Under Night 2" arcade cabinet is. I sat on the stool and began playing. about 10 minutes into my session I took a break when I heard one of the other usuals talking about some pretty harrowing stuff.

"Yeah, dude I'll be fine." He says

"Well no I am not angry that Karina has been popping up everywhere. She's hot and crazy so it works out." I hear him say.

"Who cares if she threatened me with a knife she told me that I was hers."He adds

"Anyways I gotta go the quiet black dude in the arcade is staring at me and I don't like it," he says, as he approaches me.

he walks up next to me and says, "We gonna have a problem?"

I narrow my eyes and respond, "No kid, However a piece of advice?" as I speak I go back to the game, and gesture for him to sit down.

The young man's eyes narrow back, before he sits down. I smile as I continue to play.

"I have seen you here for eight weeks and you have never said a word. Why would you now?" he asked confused

I shrug and respond, "Well I think despite your rough exterior you're a good dude. A good dude who likes crazy women which is fine." I respond as I crack my knuckles. and get ready for the second round.

"Look do you like really crazy girl? Or is she just hot and crazy which is exciting?" I ask

"Um why can't it be both?" the young man asks

"Well excitement is just novelty and novelty wears off, but her feelings towards it won't so I am going to restate my question. Do you like her or are you just excited by her? Take a breath and think about your answer just not the first thing your lizard brain says, unless that lizard brain is telling you to be with her for the rest of your life."

The young man took my advice took a breath and thought for a moment he exhaled then responded, "I like her a lot. it's just that I am kinda scared of her, and I don't know how to approach her about my safety so I just let her do whatever crazy stuff she wants because I'd rather be her obsession than be alone." I nod then say,

"Okay That was a lot to take in but ultimately just talk to her. Establish healthy boundaries in terms of space between you two, and tell her how you feel.” the young man responds and asks,

“What if she doesn't like me afterward being so vulnerable with her?” I shrug but then take a minute to think,

“Based on what you said I don't see that occurring but if it does happen I think you'll be fine honestly and truly” I respond to the young man’s worries and he smiles and then gets up. He takes out his phone and says,

“Imma call her right now.” a few seconds later we hear a ringtone in two arcade lanes the young man and I look at each other and then walk over where a young woman with short black hair looks at us guilty. She smiles and then says,

“Hi, Ethan.” “Ethan” turns to me and we share a laugh before he walks with her.

I head back to my spot and begin to play a few more rounds. After a few more rounds I take a well-needed break

The next day I am at the arcade DC’s girlfriend and coworker Moon Sua is at the Register. I hand her my 25 dollars and she smiles at me. I smile back and give her a thumbs-up. I went to my usual spot waiting for me was none other than Karina. She held a bright smile that seemed friendly.

"I am unsure about you but I must thank you for having Ethan talking to me. our chat was…positive."

"Oh, that's great what happened?"

"Well… Yesterday while I was walking home

Ethan and Karina walk to her dorm and she stares at him harshly. “Who was that you were talking to?” She interrogates.

“He’s just some guy at the Arcade I frequent. He’s harmless so much so today is the first time I heard him speak,” Ethan says tired and annoyed. This only agitates Karina even more.

“I don’t know why you’re upset. You’re not the one who has to be worried sick.” Karina says pouting. Deciding that her pout was too cute you begin to tease Karina,

“You know he was telling me how crazy you are and that I should dump you.” Back to the present

"I will have you know I said no such thing," I say defensively

"Oh I know and if you did" Karina starts before pulling out her fist. I laugh which makes her scowl

"I can take you." she asserts.

I shake my head.

"Do you think it's because I am a woman?" She says ardently

I shake my head, "No I think it's legit that you can't take me. I exist on a different axis of reality than you do."

Karina sized me up and then said, "Oh really, and how do you figure that?"

"I assume you have never fought a Dragon with a Cane Machette," I responded and Karina blinked multiple times. "I thought so now back to your story." Back to yesterday

"I doubt that. I have been following you for weeks and I have seen him at that arcade he barely says anything." Karina states as Ethan smiles then he says.

"you caught me…So what do we do now?"

In response, Karina asks, "Well I have one question. Are you mine or are you am I gonna have to kill you." Ethan laughs and says, "I'll be yours, on one condition."

Karina's eyes widened "Yes anything!" she said as she almost tripped over herself in her excitement.

"You chill with the crazy stalking okay," Ethan replies, and Karina happily says,

"Deal," Karina says hastily before she pulls Ethan for an aggressive kiss. Ethan lets her lead as he follows her into her dorm. inside she walks past Giselle and Ningning who both know what's about to happen. she slams the door and takes off her top. revealing her large breasts. Ethan smiles. She slowly slinks closer to him. Like a panther, she pins him to the bed. and undoes his pants. She laughs when his cock lands on her face. she looks up at him with these cute little doe eyes. However, Karina was no dainty doe. She lightly palms Ethan's cock, before beginning to stroke it. She smiles as she watches his eyes begin to roll back. She spits on his cock before wrapping her tits around his cock. Ethan watches with anticipatory glee as her tits fully envelop his manhood. Karina smiles as she watches him begin to unravel as she starts moving.

"Oh, Fuck Karina you're so good at that," Ethan says, as he watches her do her thing. Karina smiles, and says,

"You like that babe? because we can do this every night if you want. We can fuck before bed every night." as she speaks she picks up the pace going up and down his shaft, hoping and praying to make Ethan explode all over her face.

"Fuck Karina." Ethan moans helplessly as she just begins to twist and dance around his cock. "I can't take anymore I'm gonna cum" Ethan says, before exploding all over the idol. Karina smiles as his seed spills all over her face and tits. As she gets up she begins to rub his semen into her skin Ethan watches as he gets hard again. Karina smiles before taking her skirt off. She gets back on top of him before sinking onto his cock. She moans.

"Oh fuck I can't believe this is my cock and my cock alone. It's so big." Karina moans as she almost cums all over his rod as she adjusts to his size.

Ethan smiles before grabbing her ass and begins thrusting. Karina means saying, "Yes Take charge, claim my pussy. it's yours." Ethan smirks as he keeps thrusting before spanking Karina. He notices Karina gets tighter, with a tighter grip on her waist he begins plunging deeper into the wanton idol, and watches with perverse glee as her breasts bounce hypnotically. Karina past the point of overstimulation cums all over his cock like a bitch in heat. As she gushes Ethan teases her.

"is that all you have slut?" Karina moans at Ethan's degrading words.

"Oh, you like that little slut?" Ethan asks and Karina moans as she nods.

Well then little slut." Ethan says before sitting up and biting her nipple.

Karina loses it again and cums all over his cock again. Ethan smiles

"Wow, you have sensitive nipples slut. if I knew it was this easy to make you an oozing mess I would have fucked you like this a long time ago." As he speaks he feels himself near his peak. Ethan keeps thrusting and says to Karina, "Take my cum, and don't let a drop go to waste little slut." Karina nods and she manages to grab one of her plugs just in time for Ethan to paint her guts white. Karina shakes violently as another orgasm takes her feeling Ethan fill her up. when she finally can stop writhing and moaning Ethan plugs her as he pulls his cock out of her pussy

"Don't forget you belong to me now slut." Ethan says. Back to the present

I scowl at Karina and ask, "Was it really needed to tell me about the sex you too had?"

Karina gives me an adorable smile before saying "Yep" away. I turn to Moon Sua who is just laughing as DC comes next to her.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #miyawaki sakura #sakura smut #le sserafim sakura #jihyo smut #jihyo #karina smut #aespa karina #moon sua #moon Sua smut #billlie smut

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karlachismylife · 2 months ago

Text

i told myself i'll take a break in my failing attempts to write a couple things on Karlach x Soap in english and go back to writing a couple other things in my first language for the upcoming fandom combat deadline

so here's a thing i wrote instead and it's neither of those :D

Very much inspired by my precious friend that is obsessed with some datesim I know nothing about and talks my ear off about her sexy chinese dudes while I make her listen to me simping for my dead scottish ADHD meow meow. We don't know shit about each other's fandoms but we're so excited for each other... Also excuse me if this idea has already been done (I swear I thought of it on my own, but I will tag anyone who's done this before if you send me a link) + my English writing still sucks.

I also encourage you to check out these smaus, they're brilliant and I somewhat looked at them when wrote Kyle's text messages and this wonderful thing about Ghost and Animal Crossing that also inspired me to look into these silly military men and mobile/video games.

Task force 141 and their reaction to their S/O playing dating simulator games

CW: gn!civilian!reader (if I slipped into one or the other gender somewhere, please tell me & I'll correct), mostly fluff with a bit of spice, pet names, mild cursing, unserious jealousy and banter, long-distance (Gaz), describing nudes and mild sexting (Gaz), soft Ghost, mentioned spanking (Price), mild dom!Price, alluded reader recieveing fingerng and oral (Soap)

Word count: ~5k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

That silly app you downloaded because its (very compelling) ads were repeatedly shoved in your face became surprisingly convenient when Gaz got deployed and wasn't within reach for weeks. A slightly clay-looking guy on your screen didn't hold up in comparison to the smoothest bastard sergeant with the tightest grip on your heart, but a cute feature with app notifications stylized as loving text messages from the virtual boyfriend somehow helped cope with the radio silence from Kyle. You knew he would be fine, how could he not? You gave him a very proper goodbye kiss (and goodbye sex that was a bit more improper) for luck, and he was too damn good at his job to fail. You weren't going insane from worry, at least not more than usually.

But the loneliness, the fucking loneliness was a little bit more bearable when you still got your "good morning beautiful xx" and "thinking about you before bed" even though the font was wacky and some phrases were clearly poorly google translated. To unlock these little snippets you opened the app every day, usually tapping mindlessly on all the required interactions before going to sleep and eyeing some of the ingame wardrobe options that wouldn't work too bad on your man. In fact, you even took a screenshot of a nice suit - if tailored right, Kyle would look in it sharper than the tactical knife he knew so well. You just needed an opportunity to show it to him.

And the opportunity barged in with a sudden surge of texts right when you were already getting ready for some shut-eye.

Three weeks of muffled unease wiped out and replaced with that never-tiring giddy feeling bubbling inside as soon as you saw Kyle's name pop up on top of your screen.

"hi baby"

"finally can text, miss you terribly 😘"

"what are you up to angel?"

You could feel your own cheeks strain with the stupid smile plastered on your face. No doubt, Kyle texted you at the first opportunity - he was there, he was okay and he missed you. All sleepiness in your body withered away, leaving you energized at eleven pm, squirming in your bed as you rolled over to start vigorously typing back. You never knew how much time you both have to chat, unstable signal or simply never-ending duty could interrupt you at any given moment, so you had to get your fill of premium class Garrick right there and then - no matter how drowsy it would make you the next morning.

Eventually you sent him the screenshot you took without second thoughts:

"btw thought you'd look good in smth like this baby, what do you think?"

Instead of a normal reply on the topic, though, you recieved an immediate jab followed by short pause:

"the fuck is that baby? 🤣"

"wait i think i know"

"replacing me with a vr boyfriend already? jesus fuck angel i haven't been away even for a month"

"i'm wounded, truly. he doesn't even look that good and can't spell correctly. what a downgrade 😔"

If only you could communicate the muscle-straining eyeroll you had through text. Chuckling and snorting, you immediately came to defence of your pixel prince charming, simply for the sake of it.

"how dare you. he's not a mere replacement, this is true love, garrick 💕🥰❤️✨"

"look at the top, we're already level 29 intimacy"

"gonna get him to send me nudes soon, they unlock at lvl 30"

Gaz could probably hear your bratty giggles on the other side of the globe, sheets rustling as you wiggled in your bed, absolutely proud of your impeccably fine-tuned wit and properly excited for the upcoming smartass comeback, since Kyle would rather die than let you have a win. But you've already calmed down with your cheeks mildly flushed, and the messages were still left on read.

Weird. It wasn't the first time your chatting ended abruptly, but usually Kyle had time at least to tell you he had to go - maybe even exchange little "ily"s. Did the signal cut off? But it was good enough for him to download a picture even, surely he'd notice if it started lagging and tell you. Did something bad happen? An emergency? An ambush?

A slight frown etched in your face as you started unwillingly thinking of the worst. Then - in a moment - that little green circle signaling Gaz was online came back. And still no answer.

Did he... get actually upset? Over a fucking datesim app?

It was hard to believe. Impossible, even. Kyle was never prone to jealosy fits, smug bastard definitely knew how secure you two were. But maybe... maybe it was the fact that you were seeking comfort he couldn't provide? Being told you needed a whole ass app simply to tell you goodnight while he was god knows where, unable to hold you and cuddle you to sleep - that could sting.

Shit, you shouldn't have started this. Gaz wouldn't outright admit he felt even the slightest bit insecure over an unblinking 3D monstrosity with a sexy Korean voice. He'd think it was stupid - and he would be right, frankly, but in this case this wasn't completely unreasonable.

Already anxious, you put your thumbs back on the phone to type out a careful question, but before you could even think of a right way to formulate it the chat chirped and loaded in a bunch of attachments.

Absolutely scandalous. Hastly unndone uniform, sweaty shirt pulled up and - you knew it even if it was outside the frame - clutched in his teeth, bared in a self-assured smirk, belt unbuckled and hanging from the loops of pants pulled down just a bit; just enough for his hand to slip inside and gather into a delicious grasp around the bulge you knew was straining against his boxers. Fucking tease, pulling the elastic band with his thumb to let you see just the base of his cock - you had to swipe several mouth-watering closeups on his chest, v-line beautifully adorned with dark hair and that bloody hand you already ached to feel on your thigh, before you finally got your reward. Hard just from the thought of you, tip glistening with the pre-cum he definitely smeared all over specifically for that picture.

"wanted to ask if your pixel bf can beat these"

"but i think your silence already says enough 😏"

You groaned, belly warm with the familiar longing. What an angel of a man, finding time to somehow snap packs of perfect nudes in the middle of wherever he was. Already turning over to slide your hand down your body, you sent a very sulking "hate you garrick. first made me worried and now horny, shameless bastard" and got an obligatory "sure you do. i'll fuck that attitude outta you as soon as i get back angel".

Somehow all the need in a virtual replacement vanished after this chat. Not only did Kyle text you more regularly - sensing a competition maybe, huh? - but you also got yourself enough material to be comforted before sleep. Sure, you'd rather have your man there in person, but no perfect-looking anime prince could offer a view better than Kyle's flexed arms or a cheeky sneak peek of his plump ass and a smooth back arch snapped over his shoulder.

No wonder you two threw yourselves at each other when Gaz finally showed up home, tired and a little roghed up, but very much alive and pent up for you. Once you were done relieving some of that frustration and cuddled up after a nice, hot shower, though, Kyle nipped your earlobe teasingly.

"No such level to unlock this experience, huh, angel? Something your app boytoy can't provide."

He caught your arm before you could elbow him playfully and grasped you tighter aroung your waist, using his free hand to get his phone and hold it in front of your face.

"Besides, I think he likes me more."

"How the fuck did you get to level sixty, Garrick?!"

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Twilight was peaking how many years ago? And they still have this stupid choice everywhere."

Simon, the unmoving domestic shadow spread in a comfortable sitting position on your couch for the daily quiet together time, turned his head lazily and gently squeezed your thigh, careful not to disturb your legs thrown over his lap as he leaned a bit closer with a mildly interested "Hm?"

"It's this dating game. They're making me choose between a vampire and a werewolf. Can't think of another conflict for the last decade, really? Why not elves versus orcs? They never make stories about sexy orcs. But there's a market for it! Why stick to the same broken record all the time? Or, I don't know, invent beef between fairies and mermaids!" You huffed in exasperation, waving your phone in a vague gesture meant to express your disdain for the lack of creativity in the supernatural romance visual novels department. Ghost's usual intense stare boring into your face could mean anything - from him silently judging you for lacking respect for the culturally impactful vampries-werewolves feud to a wordless question whether you were in the sexy orc enjoyers market.

But when he finally spoke, scarred lips slightly curled upwards in a hint of an amused smile and eyebrows raised, he asked what seemed to catch his attention much more than what fantasy creature you would like to bang.

"A dating game?" His smirk became more prominent, eyes narrowing as an indicator of him looking for a way to quip in the most unbearable way possible. "What's all that about, love?"

The fact that he didn't know wasn't that surprising, you'd be much more astonished if Ghost did know what a dating simulator game was, but the need to explain still caught you off guard, forcing you to pause with the expressive phone gesturing and actually try and describe the phenomenon.

"Well, it's a mobile game, where you, like... have to play through a story with the main thing being befriending and romancing characters. It's mostly reading a story, really, but you get dialogue options to unlock special scenes with your chosen romantic interest or you can give them gifts..." A stolen glance at Simon told you that he was surprsingly paying attention. "But there's often a plot too. The one I started recently is about, well, vampires and werewolves... a Twilight ripoff, basically, but the player gets to be Bella." You paused, gauging his reaction, but other than his calloused fingers kneading the meat of your thigh Ghost didn't even move, leaving you to look at him with suspicion mixed with amusement. "Want me to show you?.."

Finally, his hand stopped its methodical massaging, only to pat your thigh approvingly and help you sit up, cozily snuggled up to the man whose hoodie you shamelessly stole just to wear around him. Wrapping his muscular arm around you, Ghost leaned his head against yours and prepared for the highly educational lecture on the world full of opportunities to get turned down because of having too low approval with the character.

You showed him the exact story that got you so riled up, explained the quite primitive mechanics behind gaining attraction points with the characters and rehashed the entire plot up to the point where you were stuck now - the one where it was obvious the game wanted you to pick a side. Simon listened carefully, gruff chuckles at some of your grumbling and a lot of very insightful commentary on each and every character ("that one's got Johnny's fucking mighty schnotz" and " 'course he's a fucking twat, look at his bloody necktie, a hemp one would be an improvement on 'im"), inculding your own avatar that you spent considerable time making to look like you wanted.

"That supposed to be you, love?" He didn't even try to mask the snarky tone, and you definitely prepared to be offended. You put so much thought into the character looks! So what if they didn't match your real ones fully? It's the game limitations, not your fault. "Hmph. Maybe good enough for these two muppets to fight over. But I reckon I like my version better. Comes with high-quality visuals."

His arm tightened around your shoulders, pulling you up for a short and sweet kiss, rough thumb stroking your jawline tenderly and pressing up under your chin when Ghost pulled away with a crooked smirk, shattered with scars into an artful mosaic.

"Trying to get your approval higher, sir?" You teased, eyes darting between his smiling - what a view, honestly - eyes and ready to be kissed again lips. His response was predictable. "It's working, innit, love? Think there's enough for a special bonus scene yet?"

Despite you clearly pretending to think and count his imaginary attraction points, Simon already started pulling you up into his lap, holding you securely and running his fingers along the curve of your back. "Might need a little more convincing, gamer. You didn't even bring a special gift to this date." Ghost's half-lidded eyes sparkled with hidden competitevness and his chest rumbled with a deep chuckle as he reached out to take your phone out of your hand softly.

"Gave you the hoodie. It counts." Ignoring your not very convincing protests ("It's mine already, of course it doesn't count!"), he tapped something on your screen and then put the phone away, wrapping his arms back around your form and slowly leaning into a tangled cuddlepile in an almost lying position. All your squirming successfully restrained with a bearhug, you huffed and placed your chin on Ghost's chest, looking up at him. He was there, with you, but deep in his gaze you noticed a certain swrling cloud of thoughts. Reading Simon's eyes was a must with him, he knew you could and didn't ever hide them from you.

"What are you thinking about?" You carefully inquired, running your hands over his shoulders and squeezing gently, a habit helping both of you to ease some tension. Simon blinked, tilting his head slightly, and let out a small sigh, seeking the right words. "You're not playing that game because I'm not doing enough, are you, lovie? 'Cos if you are, I'd rather you tell me what's wrong."

Always straight to the point. At least, when he finally decides to speak up. The big, scary dog worried about a silly mobile game as his competition? Cute. But the seriousness in his eyes called for a proper answer, not a teasing joke or a simple "aww, don't worry".

"You're doing more than enough, Simon, and you know it. It's a game, just living out my fantasies as the main character. But I can delete it if it makes you uncomfortable, it's no big deal, you know?" The tiniest bit of tension you felt underneath your fingertips disappeared, leaving Ghost sinking even further into the couch with you properly wrapped in his protective embrace.

"Nah, gorgeous, you keep playin' whatever shite you wanna be playin'. Just promise to keep me updated on the bloke so I can upstage him in every way." His voice got muffled since he buried his face in your chest, eyes closed peacefully and pure bliss written in all the relaxed features. Cradling his head, you hummed in agreement, but then perked up again.

"Wait, what bloke? You picked one of them for me?" - "Mhm." - "Oh come on, Simon, what happened to the freedom of choice!" You could feel his smile get more prominent despite being hidden in the softness of your chest covered with the thick hoodie material. "Which one did you choose? The vampire 'cause he's wearing all black?"

"Nuh-uh. The other one. The mutt."

You giggled at his choice of words and let out a quiet "oi" when Simon pinched you for disturbing his calm enjoyment of a "bonus scene" with the chosen romance option, that being you.

"Why? You're a Wolf Man fan or something?"

"'f course I am, love. He's British."

Captain John Price

When you saw the notification that the game you got sucked into with the active help of your friends got a "sound update", you knew what that meant - they finally added English voiceover lines for every single hunk of a man you had in your virtual harem, and you couldn't wait to hear what voices they gave your favourites. Given the nature of the game, you decided to put your earbuds on and started listening through the whole voicelines library, busying your hands with mundane tasks like folding laundry. John was sitting in the kitchen, fully immersed into his reading - potentially work-related. Or at least enthralling enough for him to miss your flushed cheeks or periodical giggling.

But no matter how important his reading was, what he couldn't miss was the sultry male voice coming out of your phone with a whispered "Wouldn't you love that, bunny?". Of course the parinig connection between your phone and the wireless earbuds had to get interrupted exactly when you were pouring yourself a cuppa and couldn't even drop the kettle in order to shush the suggestive purring of your digital fave.

You could feel Price staring at you. You could practically hear his bushy eyebrows slowly rising as he patiently waited for you to say something first. You were fully contemplating brewing yourself some poison instead of tea to avoid getting confronted by your man who just heard someone call you bunny on the phone.

So when you didn't start first, John, more amused than anything - he knew you too well to read through all your tiny microreactions and conclude that this wasn't hardcore evidence of an affair, but something much more suitable for future teasing (were you listening to porn or something? a naughty audiobook? oh so many golden opportunities to make you squirm under the steel gaze of the captain) - asked very nonchalantly: "What was that, darling?"

"What?" There was no point in pretending you didn't know what he's talking about, but you still tried. If anything, it allowed you to stall while you very hesitantly turned around and saw John and his smile, not even a hint of sterness in the round plumpness of bearded cheeks and little crow's feet in the corners of his eyes. "What was what, honey? You want some tea too?"

A futile attempt at deflecting and bribery rolled into one. You were lucky you were not his subordinate. You were unlucky the voice of some other man, dripping with mirth, came back into your ear once the next voiceline loaded in and the connection with your earbuds got restored. This was equal to admitting your crimes in front of the judges, but you slowly took your phone out of your pocket and hit pause.

"Does the tea come with an explnation who's the bloke whispering in your pretty ears, bunny? 'Cos if so, I'll take a cuppa, thank you very much."

He was beaming. Leaned back in his chair, knees wide apart and burly arms folded on his chest, Price wanted to have a wee little pause in his serious reading, and watching you squirm was the best distraction and brain-reloading he could ever get.

"I-it's not like that, I promise." Was that a bead of sweat running down your nape? John grunted, cocking an eyebrow and pushing his chin into his chest to stare at you from an angle that best conveyed that "I am not convinced, love" look. "It's just a little game, John, promise. Not a real man, just a made-up character."

Those piercing eyes narrowed even more, silently measuring you up for potentially bullshitting him, and then a heavy hand patted the broad thigh. An order, not an invitation (an order you could always disobey, though...)

"Show me."

Forgetting the option to disobey with little consequences, you hung your head down and dragged yourself and your fresh cuppa over to John, settling in his lap. The tea didn't even make it to the table, he snatched it from your fingers, careful enough not to spill, and sipped loudly, patting your side condescendingly. Any more stalling could result in various stages of burning buttocks, so you complied with the demand without Price repeating himself and opened the app, disconnecting your earbuds in the process.

He clearly wanted to hear that embarassing shit.

Your explanations of what a datesim was seemed to amuse John greatly - knowing his love for farming games, you made sure to mention all the best ones mixing the two genres, clearly trying to sweeten the deal.

"So wha', sum muppet in your phone callin' you bunny and you like 't? Maybe I should start too, huh?" You had to close your eyes to stop the internal screaming, and John's gruff chuckle hit your burning ear with a gentle puff. "But these, erm..." - "Companions." - "Riiight, these companions, they ain't whispering something... naughtier, are they?"

There was a hint of seriousness in his question, so you opened your eyes again and turned to look at him. His face was still smiling calmly, but the expectation was that of an honest and direct answer.

"Well, they do have more explicit scenarios and voicelines..." - "They talkin' dirty to you, eh? Guess I should step up my game." He flexed his jaw and leaned even closer, brushing his slightly chapped lips over the tender shell of your ear, soft beard tickling you and leaving you helpless. "Can't have my sweetheart wooed by sum app game fockers, can I? C'mere you little bunny, Imma show you sumthin' to hop on."

He stood up suddenly, lifting you with a soft grunt and dragging you away from the forgotten phone and empty cup. No amount of "John!" squeaked out could save you from that bear of a man groping your ass before throwing you onto bed and climbing on top. His weight squeezed the air out of your lungs as he roamed his big palmes all over your sweet body, even more enthusiastic about the impromptu break in his work.

"Ugh, fine, Johnathan Price, I won't be listening to the spicy dialogues! Just let me finish my-" Absolutely futile, your plea to get back to housework you had planned got cut short by a deep kiss, John's tongue sliding in your mouth as the most efficient (okay, maybe, second most) gag he could use on you. Your hands, previously pressed against his furry chest in an attempt to push him off, relaxed and buried themselves in his thick hair, ruffliing it and tugging him closer by the strands. A low grunt let you know what you already knew and felt much lower - John fully approved both that and your promise to keep away from the horny digital harem.

"Why even bother with 'em bloody games when you can 'ave the real thing, huh?"

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Whit are ye smiling at there, bonnie?"

Before you could even process the question and come up with any answer (excuse) about the silliest giddy smile that a cutscene in your chosen romance route got out of you, your massive - the only way to not be thrown off by Johny "Can't Sleep Still" MacTavish - bed creaked underneath the impressive weight of a fine Scottish specimen. Like a curious pup, Soap squeezed his head through the loop of your arm, earning himself a choking cuddle in the process, and stared into your screen.

"No, Johnny, piss off! It's personal!" You scrambled to turn your phone away from him and held it to your chest, a traitorous warmth in your cheeks threatening to give away what kind of personal it was. Of course, Soap caught on immediately, playful glint in his eyes as he simply yanked the phone out of your grip and turned over onto his back, shamelessly using you as a pillow while he unlocked your screen (why the fuck were you two so trusting and shared passwords!) and looked at the animated cutscene.

And why did it have to be the first spicy one you finally unlocked?

"What's tha'? Didnae peg ye fur a hentai type, bonnie." Soap watched the looped animation for a few more seconds while you wrestled against his heavy fucking carcass helplessly. With a single tap he closed the cutscene and let out an amused hum when met with the continuation of your unlocked chapter. "Och, so ye're reading smut too? Naughty."

You squirmed visciously, fighting for your dignity as he started reading aloud through the desciption of what didn't make the cutscene. The experience was downright horrible, humiliating and arousing at the same time as Johnny's thick brogue and mocking tone killed every ounce of spice in the steamy scene and somehow added new ones. Along with his stuttering. This lad... you even tried to grab his arm and chew on the meaty muscle in hopes of distracting him, but he didn't even flinch, simply pulling his limb out of your grasp and putting it behind his head comfortably. Outraging.

"Slender aristocratic fingers squeezing supple..." he smacked his lips so loudly that you groaned, "...flesh nae hard enough tae leave marks, but enough tae el... elicit pleasure, his breath hot in yer ear, whispering... Hauld yer horses- how come is yer name 'ere, bonnie? Who's writing this fur ye?" You nearly bounced off the bed when Soap suddenly sat up straight, relieving you from his (quite welcome, to be fair) burden, and frowned at your phone, scrolling through the erotc piece as if he could figure out who was the author just from reading it carefully enough. The pout he turned to you with was nothing short of absolutely heartbreaking. "Who's tha' "Laird Sebastian" prick writing a' kinds of nasty shite he wants tae dae tae ma' leannan? Am ah nae enough fur ye, bonnie? Dae ye wanntae leave me fur some posh bastard wi' a stick so far up his arse tha' it pokes outta his yapper?"

It was so obvious that Soap was just taking the piss, but his bottomless puppy eyes with the longest lashes fluttering as if on the verge of tears were working their dark magic, crashing your train of thought like a whole gang of outlaws from the Wild West and coercing you into making an apologetic expression and reaching your arms pleadingly for a hug. "Aw, come on, Johnny, it's just a-"

"Ah dinnae think tis a good idea, love. Ah dinnae have slender aristocratic fingers, wha' if a'm awful lot o' a commoner tae yer tastes..." Soap tilted his chin up, a perfect depiction of dignity suffering horrible offence, and turned away defiently, immediately peeking back at you from the corner of his twinkling blue eye. You knew those little smiling creases too well to miss them forming despite him holding a pout quite successfully, so you scoffed, still slightly flushed from being caught red-handed, and rolled your eyes, snuggling up to Johnny from behind and starting to kiss behind his ear.

"I'm so, so sorry, love of my life. No posh bastards come nowhere near you, you're my favourite commoner. Fuck Lord Sebastian-" You realized you chose the wrong wording when Soap couldn't hold back a snort. "Aye, well, seems lik' ye were planning on doing exactly tha-" - "Oh shut the fuck up, MacTavish!"

Shut the fuck up he did, turning back to face you abruptly and tackling you into the sheets, lavishing kisses with his searing hot lips all over your face. A real mutt pouncing the handler he has no respect and all the love for. There was no choice left for you other than wrap all your limbs around Soap and writhe underneath him, nearly missing that very inconspicuous way he reached his arm out and dropped your phone on the nightstand before cradling your head for much deeper, sloppier kisses.

"Gonna show tha' laird sod how tae fuck mah bonnie real good, aye? Mak' ye come wi' thae fingers right 'ere, nae aristocrat bullshit." Lapping up your neck with his wet tongue, Soap planted a greedy kiss right underneath your jaw and sucked at the soft skin until it showed a little pinkish hue. The bastard was set on making you sing for him, big rough palms grabbing handfuls of your flesh, squeezing and massaging while Johnny kept decending down your body with clear determination. "C'mon, leannan, let me hear ye. Say yer ol' Johnny's better than tha' bawbag Sebastian."

Sliding your hands over his broad shoulders, you held his nape before tugging on his slightly outgrown mohawk, your own head falling backwards in an exhausted yet adoring sigh.

"You know it's just a game, right, loverboy? A dating simulator, not a real thing? Oi, watch it!" A sharp gasp escaped your lips as Soap chomped on your side and immediately nuzzled into your stomach to blow raspberries into the soft plush, catching you once you started squirming and giggling. No intention of letting you catch your breath until he heard what he wanted. "Fine! Fine, Johnny, you are so, so much better than Lord Sebastian."

Satisfied, he loosened his grasp on you and lifted his head, grinning like he's just won you over from somene actually threatening in terms of romance. Hooked his fingers into your housewear bottoms, slowly tugged them down and started trailing hot-mouthed kisses down from your solar plexus, sky blue eyes glazing over with the never-satiated hunger for your taste on his greedy tongue.

You held your breath. A joke was itching inside your mouth, begging to be let out, dancing on the tip of your tongue...

"You're lucky I didn't choose Duke Aaron's route. That's some serious competion."

"Och, away 'n bile yer heid, bonnie!"

Thank you for reading! I appreciate all interactions, likes, reblogs, comments and requests (send in anything for now! I can filter them myself, but I am open to smut, including rare kinks and some dark themes. Keep in mind though that I am limited by my skill & overall prefer sugary fluff. I will write for any of the task force 141 and baldur's gate characters, including parings, poly, x reader and x OC), I will write drabbles, headcanons and whatever else formats you can think of.

Also any corrections are welcome as long as you're not being mean! Thank you <3

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maxsimagination · 8 months ago

Text

𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 - 𝙢.𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩

summary: watching a movie isn’t as entertaining as it sounds, millie has other ideas

-> !! fingering, oral sex, first time sex !!

𖦹 masterlist

𝗜𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗔 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗗𝗔𝗬 night during international break.

the whole team had been working hard during the week in preparation for the game against italy, which was on tuesday.

sarina had willingly agreed to let us have the majority of the day off, after a quick training session (which ended up being not-so-quick) before we retired to our apartments for the day.

i was in my own room, with girlfriend millie splayed out over my bed.

we’d only been together for five months, but she was almost never in her own room if she had the choice, preferring mine instead.

“mills, i’m bored can we do something?”

“sure, ynn. we can watch a movie?”

i scrunched my face at the option.

“can i pick?”

a soft smile graced millie’s lips.

“of course.”

she held out the tv remote which i happily took and clambered onto the bed with her.

it took me a while to find something that looked decent enough to watch, but we decided on a popular romcom.

i settled into the bed, curled into millie’s arms. the defender was taller, and older, than me so her body was like a shell to my own.

the movie played out in front of us, scene after scene.

i would never admit it, but i got a bit bored after a while. my head rested on millie’s shoulder, trying my hardest to stay interested in the film.

spoiler alert: that didn’t work.

so i shuffled my body around, trying to find another position that was comfortable. millie had no clue what i was doing, but grabbed my hips and pulled me down on top of her own.

“you gonna watch the movie or not, princess?”

“y-yes.”

her voice was deep and gravelly, which short-circuited my brain and gave my body the shivers. this was the first time i had this feeling, it gave me goosebumps and a weird sensation that pooled in my gut.

i wiggled around a little more, but the feeling only grew. millie took notice of my movements, manoeuvring me so she was resting against the headboard of the bed and i was sitting on her lap.

“are you okay, baby? you keep wriggling round.”

i could feel myself burn up at her words.

“‘m fine. just need to get comfortable.”

she gave me a knowing smirk, letting me go back to attempting to watch the movie but keeping her hands on my thighs.

for the next half hour, she was drawing patterns, squeezing and sliding her hands all over my thighs. she had to know what she was doing to me, the feeling in my gut was growing stronger.

“mills, please.”

i breathed out.

“please what, princess?”

“please touch me.”

i was nervous. i wanted her to touch me, she knew that. but what she didn’t know was that i was just as experienced in the sex department as a fish is at flying.

i was a virgin.

millie’s hands slid higher up my thighs, closer to the edge of my thin pj shorts.

“where do you want me to touch you?”

she was torturing me, she had to be. my cheeks were flaming from the embarrassment.

“mills, please don’t tease me.”

a flicker of sympathy could be seen in her eyes, and she didn’t ask me again. her hands went higher up until they slid under the waistband of my shorts.

i wanted this to happen, needed it even. but i was shit scared to let it happen.

“mills.”

i put my hands on hers, effectively stopping her in her tracks.

“what is it? do you want me to stop?”

her response was immediate.

“i just.. need to tell you something before we keep going.”

“you can tell me anything, yn.”

deep breaths, in and out. i worked up the courage to finally tell her.

“i’ve never done this before. i’m a virgin.”

i mumbled the last word, but millie’s could still hear it.

there was a beat of silence, in which i looked up at millie, expecting to see disgust or some variation of anger. but instead she had a soft smile on her face.

“that’s perfectly fine, princess. we can take it nice and slow. if you need me to stop at any time, you just say so.”

i got butterflies in my stomach at her words, she was so soft and kind and caring.

i nodded along and millie slowly started moving her hands back up and down my thighs. she lifted one of her hands up to my chin, where she turned my head to face hers, placing a small kiss on my lips.

i got a little more confident, pulling her back in for a longer, more heated kiss, which then became a make out session.

“mills, you can take off my shorts.”

my voice was soft, nearly a whisper. but this was a big step for me, and millie knew it.

“you’re sure? we don’t have to.”

“i’m sure.”

i guided her hands up to the waistband of my shorts, letting her take control from there.

she knew what she was doing, flopping us over so i was laying on my back on the bed and she was hovering over me. again, she rested her hands on my waist with her fingers hooked in the waistband, giving me a questioning look.

i nodded at her, begging her with my eyes to just take them off.

it was slow and torturous, watching millie pull both my shirts and lacey underwear down but we finally got there.

“can i touch you?”

“yes, please millie, touch me everywhere.”

i knew she was trying to be considerate and check if this was okay, but i just wanted her to fuck me.

her large hands pulled my legs, spreading them apart and showing myself to her.

she started slow, dragging a finger through my already-wet folds, then two, then her tongue. i jolted at the sensation of her mouth in between my legs.

she had me weak with need as she lapped up the juices that seemed to be never ending from my pussy.

“m-millie please.”

i was moaning at her movements, she was sucking on my clit, while working her fingers upwards and into my hole. she set a slow but steady pace, pumping into me.

it didn’t take long before i needed more, my hips were rocking up to meet her thrusts.

she sucked harshly onto my clit, making me cry out. that quickly turned into another moan as she quickened her fingers’ pace.

it felt very sudden, one minute i was desperate for more, the next i was hanging over the very edge of my orgasm, begging to let go.

“i’m g-gonna cum, mills, please can i cum?”

with a flat stripe licked up from my hole to my clit, millie let out a gruff,

“cum, princess.”

and sucked harshly on my clit to push me over the edge.

it was pure ecstasy. pleasure. i was on cloud 9 and i never wanted to come down.

when i finally did float back to reality, my eyes were droopy and my limbs felt weak. i could see millie grabbing a cloth from the bathroom, before walking back over to me.

“well done, love. such a good girl for me.”

she cleaned me up before dressing me again, and we cuddled in my bed until i fell asleep.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso smut #millie bright #millie bright x reader #millie bright imagine

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adventuringblind · 10 months ago

Text

Caught in a Lie

Maxiel x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: The reader gets caught in Max's shenanigans and decides to take the blame. Daniel isn't happy she lied for Max, third time WDC or not.

Warnings: BDSM, dom/sub, sub reader, switch Max, dom Daniel, spanking, unprotected PinV, Overstimulation, mild denial if you squint, Max being a menace

Notes: I have a website now! It would mean a lot if Y'all checked it out. I'm still working on it but it's a fun creative project. It's still in the works, so if you have suggestions, I will gladly take them.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really wasn't her fault. Max had been the conspirator. She was just the bait. Unknowingly, mind you. The bastard had done this on purpose!

Winning a third title had inflated his ego far too much. They couldn't celebrate properly in Qatar. Alcohol sure, sex had to wait. Not because any of them wanted to, Daniel had made it a point that sex, especially the kind they do, needs to come after races. Thursdays and Fridays can be soft things. Saturdays are an absolute no. Then Sunday comes around, and they are trying to get back to wherever they are staying as fast as possible.

Now, back at home in Monaco, nothing to disturb their peace. They decide to ruin it all by going out. It's one of her least favorite activities. Being in bed with the cat has her name on it. But Max wants to celebrate, and Daniel is social, so she drags herself out of bed.

She should've known something was amiss when Max said he got something for her to wear out. She should've known it was going to end this way when Max whistled at her and laughed, whereas Daniel's eyes had darkened. The familiar look he gets when he wants to absolutely take her apart and build her up piece by euphoric piece.

She'd caught Max's arm on the way out. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Felt like a show tonight," he shrugs, then winks at her.

The black dress barely covers her ass. It's lacy all over and sheer aside from the important places. She wears stuff like this often since it's something she likes. It doesn't make sense why this would be the thing to drive him insane.

Dancing had been fun. Their other Monaco friends had come out with them to celebrate. Daniel's eyes had burned into her every time she moved. Much to her surprise, he wasn't the only one.

Carlos Sainz is staring at her from the corner. He looks like he's trying desperately not to but failing miserably. He turns away every time she catches him, still exuding confidence.

It's not well known that she's dating Max and Daniel. They've been friends for a long time. Friendship turned into a situationship, which then made them confess. They look like they always do to the outside world. To touchy to simply be platonic but no real announcement that any of the three are taken.

Carlos was staring, Daniel was glaring, Max was smirking, and she was the center of it all. Embarrassment hit her like a train when she realized she'd been played. Max was watching Carlos stare at her and snickering about it.

Feeling insecure, she went to get some air. The joy of feeling nice in a dress Max had picked out now ruined from knowing why he did it. He was playing a game. He could've at least asked first.

Daniel and Max find her outside slumped against the wall. She can still hear Max laughing about something and it's pissing her off.

"Stop laughing at me!" She throws her arms up in defeat and turns her back to them. "I didn't ask to be ogled at by Carlos, Max."

"Then why did you pick that specific dress?" Daniel spins her around and pins her to the wall. A shiver runs up her spine as his breath sticks to her ear. "The exact one Carlos had mentioned wanting to see on a pretty thing like you."

She doesn't know whether to blush or cower. She ends up settling for both at the same time. She debates her options. Either she tells the truth and saves herself, or she takes whatever punishment is coming her way.

Once. She will do this one time for Max since he just won his title.

"I picked it out because I thought it looked nice and you would like it. I swear I didn't know Carlos liked this dress and was going to be here tonight." She's pleading desperately with her voice. Maybe she'll get lucky.

Max has gone oddly silent. She tries not to even look at him, let Daniel figure out she's taking the blame for the Dutch.

Daniel is still staring her down. The silence hanging thick between them until he decides to break it. "Anything to add, Maxy?"

Noticing Daniel's mood, he doesn't answer. A smart move by him. Daniel just hums and grabs her wrist to lead the charge to the car.

None of them speak during the short ride home. She hates every second of it. Daniel is probably mulling over everything he wants to do to her. She feels like a child waiting for their parent to start a lecture.

Daniel waits for them to get their shoes off before turning to face them in the entryway of the apartment. "Where'd you buy the dress from?"

And he'd seen right through it. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember, or you weren't told?"

She winces when his tone goes soft. The one that makes her drop to her knees for him. Well, any tone from Daniel can have that effect on her. This one is just the one that makes her all fuzzy in the head. “I don’t remember,” she whispers.

Daniel sighs heavily. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me the truth then I guess I’ll have to spank it out of you.” She nearly falls over, but manages to catch herself. “Bedroom, clothes off and on your knees.”

She scrambles to comply. The drop is imminent at this point. She just hopes Max enjoys the show because this will not be happening again. At least, she hopes.

The clothes come off and are folded neatly in a pile. She feels cold, exposed, and bit insecure, and then yet the floaty feeling is threatening to spill over. Her knees digging into the carpet don’t help that.

Max comes into the room silently. Daniel must have said something to him because he kneels next to her. Not a rare occurrence, but is mildly unusual.

“Max.” The stern tone has Max grumbling, but he gets back up off the floor, strips, then kneels again.

Daniel beckons her over to him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment as she stands between his still covered legs. “You have the choice to tell the truth or not. I’m not mad at you, but I’m sad you felt like you needed to lie about what happened tonight. So, I’m going to keep spanking you until you tell the truth.”

“Yes sir.” It comes out so easily; a second nature now. She lays across his lap, trying to hold back the already threatening tears.

“What are your colors, baby girl?”

“Green is good, yellow is slow down and talk, red is stop.”

“Good, what’s your color?”

“Green.”

She’s probably too far gone already to really say no at this point. She just needs his hands on her in any kind of way.

The first hit shocks her. It’s not the hardest he’s can go by any means, but it still stings. “I’m gonna keep going until I get the truth.” She remains silent and another hit lands to the other side.

The next three have no rhythm and are more towards the tops of her thighs. She whimpers a bit but doesn’t give in. This is for Max. He wanted a show, he won the title, and she’s willing to, unfortunately, provide.

Daniel tugs her hair back and forces her eyes to look at his face. Four more hits and she’s hissing. Each one is harder than the last.

She starts getting hazy around number twenty-five. She's taken more, but the fact that Daniel keeps sweetly telling her she can stop this by telling the truth makes it worse. Like every hit is sending further to the breaking point. Not the good one, mind you, the one where she cries and tells him the whole story.

"Just tell the truth, baby." He lands another five hits in rapid succession. Each one burning more than the last. The tears have started free falling and are making Daniel's leg wet and salty.

"Color baby?"

"Green," She manages to sniffle out. Voice high and cracking. Why is she getting punished again? Oh, right, for Max. It should really be him up here.

The overwhelming urge to do as Daniel says hits somewhere around hit forty. The breaking point has reared its ugly head. She starts bawling her eyes out as the last hit is the hardest she's received thus far. "Yellow!"

Daniel halts any movement. "Did that last one hit too hard?" The softness in his voice only brings more tears.

"I'm sorry!" She drops all her body weight over his legs. "Max got the dress. He said he picked it out for me. I didn't know anything about Carlos. Then, right before he left, I asked him what was going on, and he said he wanted a show. I figured he did just win his title, and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I lied."

"Oh, baby girl." Daniel helps her up and lays back so she can plaster herself on his chest. "I knew what was going on, but I wanted you to tell the truth. I'm not mad at you, okay?" He runs soothing fingers along her spine. It only makes the tears come harder. "That must've been hard! I'm so proud of you for telling me the truth. I know you wanted to do it for Max, but sometimes Maxy needs to learn his own lesson."

Daniel slides out from underneath her and grabs something from the bedside table. "I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? You did so well. I'm not upset. I just needed to hear the truth." She doesn't hold back the tears as Daniel works on getting her cleaned up. "So good for me," He coos to help her calm down.

She's lost all sense of time. She has no idea of how long she's been over Daniel's or how long he's been cleaning her up for.

She's still splayed out on the bed facing, now facing Max and his solemn expression.

"Here's what we're going to do. Max wanted a show, so that's what he's gonna get since we are celebrating his win." He turns towards Max. The Dutch's knees can't be feeling good at all. Daniel leans down and forces his head upwards. A few seconds at the Australian, then holding on her.

Daniel drags over a chair and rips Max up from the floor. "You are going to sit here and watch. You will not move, you will not touch, you will not make a sounds. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, color?"

Max looks oddly and achingly hard from her position. It makes her wonder if this is actually what he wanted or if he's just slipping further. It takes more to put max down, but Daniel is good at getting him there if the occasion calls for it.

"Green."

Daniel, much to her relief, finally gets his clothes off. He leaves on his boxers for the moment, though the outline of his hard on is obvious. It has been since they got in the car to come home. “Baby girl, do you want my fingers or my tongue tonight?”

“Tongue please.” Pleasurable shivers run down her spine. Sometimes, she’s convinced that Daniel was molded by Greek gods and sent to live among the humans solely because his tongue can work miracles.

Her head hangs off the bed giving her an upside-down view of Max. His skin has flushed even more since the last time she saw him.

She doesn't get much time to think about it. Daniel's tongue presses against her and she loses herself. He knows her body like it's his favorite book to read, movie to watch, and song to hear.

Her fingers slip easily into his black curls. His hands are on her waist, absolutely buried in her. She's going to feel the bruises soon, but it only adds the pleasure of it.

Her free hand flies to cover her mouth out of habit. She makes it half-way before Daniel snatches her wrist and pins it to her side so he can grip both her hip and her hand.

The strings of moans and profanities leaving her are not even close to the way she can hear Max whining behind her. High pitched and desperate.

Daniel is lapping at her like she's producing healing waters and he'll die without it. Nose bumping against her just right. The grip on her body only getting strong as she writhes around in ecstasy.

"Sir please - need to - please-" It comes out strangled in panted breaths and heavy moans.

He doesn't stop. Never does to tell them yes. Daniel taps her hip with his index finger three times. She jumps over the edge without any kind of hesitation. Plunging herself in the familiar feeling of warmth overwhelming amounts of dopamine and serotonin.

Her back arches. Daniel holds her in place as her body contorts in every direction in an attempt to push him away. He is unmoving wall. A force she can't do anything but submit her body to.

Daniel leaves her alone for a mere minute. Only to drag Max over, fingers clutched around the back of his neck. He slams Max onto the bed and manhandles him until he's right where Daniel wants him.

He then moves to flip her. In between them and still sopping. "Think you can keep Max in your mouth?"

Of course she can, she's done it enough times. The consent thing still makes her melt either way. "Yes, sir."

"Good, I think we've tortured Max enough. We are still celebrating his win, after all." There is a hint of mischief behind Daniel's eyes that doesn't go unnoticed.

Daniel, mouth still wet with her, kisses Max in the sloppiest manner she's ever seen.

She stares in awe for all of ten seconds. Her ogling is cut short by Daniel gripping her hair and shoving Max's length down her throat. She gags at the suddenness but recovers quickly and gets to work.

She can't see what Daniel is doing anymore. Their positioning is not the most convenient for watching. She can hear it though, and It's driving her insane. Max's body is quivering and it's an effort to stay where she is and not bite down every time he jerks in a different direction.

It takes less time than normal for him to spill down her throat. Daniel is quick to rip her off and get her over Max. Her ass still stings from earlier, but she could care less as Daniel plays puppet master and guides Max into her.

It's a stretch, Max certainly isn't small, but she's well adjusted.

She loses her head again when Daniel sets her pace. Max is wrecked from the lack of stimulation into a constant stream of it. Daniel rips off his boxers and slams into Max's mouth. "Bet you wish you hadn't done all that snickering, huh?" Max is so far down that his eyes are rolling at Daniels tone. The gentle one that is condescending enough to make anyone whimper.

Daniel keeps talking, she's registering his voice, but has no idea what he's saying anymore. She can't even hear past her own moans. She can't feel anything besides the hands on her body and the overwhelming number of endorphins flooding her mind.

Kissing. Daniel is kissing her through another jump off an even larger cliff.

Flipped over again. This time Daniel is slamming into at an unholy pace. Maybe Daniel is a fallen angel. To good with his body to stay in heaven, so he brought heaven to the humans.

Fingers. Max's fingers are everywhere. He shoves them down her throat and coos as she mans around them. Rough calloused hands made for drowning her in whatever this cacophony of feelings is.

Her favorite song on replay. Over and over and over again. Never getting old.

She comes back to herself at some point. Nobody has clothes on still. Daniel and Max are gently coaxing her muscles to still.

"Hey baby, you passed out on us." Max's voice is still fuzzy. She groans in response. Every inch of her is in some state of pain, pleasure, or both.

"We're gonna try a bath, okay? I want to help the bruises as much as possible." She nods against Daniel's chest, agreeing that would be a brilliant idea.

"Before we do that though, I want so apologize." Max sounds timid and unsure of himself. His hands wring together in anxiety. "I shouldn't have set that up. It made you both uncomfortable and I should've just asked."

Daniel pulls Max back on top of their cuddle pile. "I would've happily made this happen and I will happily do it again."

That same mischievous glint comes back to Daniel despite the exhaustion. They end up laughing deliriously all the through their aftercare routine.

Yeah, she'd happily do this again too.

503 notes · View notes

msmk11 · 6 months ago

Text

Congratulations: You Like James Potter

James Potter x fem!reader

Word count: 4k

CW: Idiots in love, kissing, unbearable fluff

Summary: Clothes are a game changer when it comes to feelings. Who would've thought?

A/n: Happy Wednesday everyone! I hope you are having a lovely week. Currently I am in the midst of finals week, so I am stressing! That's why I pulled this out of my drive instead of writing something new. I hope you enjoy my loves :)

The cold stone of the dorm seeps through your socks as you pace back and forth across the width of the room. Although you love Hogwarts, winters are never kind inside a large castle with no insulation.

Usually when this happens, you go roast in front of the fire or take a long, hot shower. However, seeing that you have plans to go to the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin game in ten minutes with Lily, Dorcas, Remus, and Peter, those options are out of the question. You go and stand in front of your chest again, looking at the various sweaters and sweatshirts packed for the colder weather. Despite having so many options, none look warm enough, or let’s be honest, cute enough, to wear to the game today. As you stare at your trunk with a sigh, you hear the door to your room open behind you.

“Are you almost ready to go?” You hear Lily ask.

You turn to her with a glum look on your face, “Not yet. I don’t know what to wear!”

She comes to stand beside you, “Babe, wear one of the many sweatshirts you have sitting in your trunk.”

“But none of them feel right!” You whine.

“Then take something from one of our trunks,” she suggests.

“I already looked.” You say, collapsing onto my bed.

“Well you better figure it out in the next five minutes. If not, we’re leaving without you.”

“I know, I know. I promise I’ll make a decision.”

You hear her leave the room as the door thuds behind her.

As you lay on your soft bed, engulfed by your comforter, you wish you could just wear it outside to the pitch. Dreaming about such a reality where that could actually happen, you realize that although you can’t carry your comforter around, you can think of something that is likely just as comfortable. One of Remus’ sweaters. You throw your shoes on and barrel down the stairs into the common area. You see your friends waiting for you.

“Are you finally ready?” Lily asks again.

“No, but go on without me. I finally figured out what I want to wear but I’ll meet you guys there,” you reply.

“Okay, we’ll save you a seat,” She says.

Once they’re out of the room, you take two steps at a time up to Remus’ room that he shares with Sirius, James, and Peter. You walk to the far right corner where his stuff is and open the trunk. The angels seem to sing from above as you feast your eyes upon the millions of big, wooly sweaters sitting before you. You see a nice brown one, something that will go perfectly with your blue jeans, and pull it on. You are instantly engulfed by the warmness and sigh with relief. You go and stand in front of the full length mirror against the wall. As you check your appearance and smooth out your hair, you see a flash of red out of the corner of your eye. The flash of red turns out to be none other than one of James Potter’s many quidditch jumpers. Slightly curious, you take the sweater off and put on the sweatshirt. You are pleasantly surprised to find that it is somehow even more comfortable than Moony’s sweater. Plus, it’s perfect to wear to the quidditch game. You go to stand in front of the mirror again and are taken aback slightly by how nicely the red pops against your skin. Satisfied with your appearance, and also feeling incredibly cozy, you rush down to the quidditch pitch, a few minutes before the game starts. You find Lily, Dorcas, Remus, and Peter in the crowd.

“Hey,” you huff, as you sit down next to Remus.

“Hey, see you finally found something to wear,” he replies.

“Only took her a million years,” Peter teases.

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” you retort, swatting him on the back of the head.

“Hey, I thought you didn’t want to wear any of our stuff?” Lily asks.

“I’m not?” you answer, confused.

“But isn’t that Marlene’s sweatshirt?”

“No, that’s what I’m wearing” Dorcas says, unzipping her black winter coat to reveal her girlfriend’s hoodie.

“Then whose is that?” Lily questions.

Before you can answer, the crowd starts cheering as both teams walk out onto the pitch. Madam Hooch’s voice bellows outward as she asks the captains to shake hands. From the Gryffindor team, James steps forward, and from Slytherin, Lucius Malfoy. The two shake hands then return to their respective teams. They kick off from the ground as the quaffle is thrown into the air and the game begins. Although you’ve seen plenty of quidditch games in your time at Hogwarts, you never cease to be amazed at the agility with which James and Marlene are able to move on their brooms and toss the quaffle between them. Likewise, you are always impressed by Sirius’ strength as a beater and his ability to aim the bludgers at other players perfectly. Within minutes, Gryffindor is winning thirty to ten. The lion’s side of the stadium is screaming as James speeds down the field, heading towards the goal posts yet again. With a quick throw, he tosses the ball through the far left hoop, scoring the team another ten points. We all cheer loudly. He looks to our section and winks, blowing a kiss to his fans. From behind you hear a few sighs and giggles. You turn to see three girls in your year, two from Ravenclaw and one from Hufflepuff, swooning over James’ flirtations. You slightly roll your eyes and huff fondly at James’ fan club.

Your staring must not have been too discreet because a few moments later, you hear loud whispers from behind.

“And why is she wearing his sweatshirt?”

“They’re not dating are they?”

“They better not, James is mine.”

“Anyways, he could do so much better than her.”

“Yeah, she’s so ugly.”

Confused as to how they know you’re wearing James’ hoodie, you pull on the sleeve, shifting it so you can look at the back. In big, gold letters you see the word “Potter” printed across.

You simply sigh before getting up and moving down next to Lily on the other end.

Just as soon as you get settled, Lily turns and says to me, “Wait, turn around. Why are you wearing Potter’s sweatshirt?”

“Merlin, does everyone have a problem with it?” you ask loudly.

Dorcas, Peter, and Remus all look your way in slight surprise.

“No, sorry. I was just wondering.” Lily answers softly.

Dorcas grabs my hand, “hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah m’fine. It’s just that those three girls,” you point to them, “are bitching about the fact that I’m wearing James’ jersey. Apparently, he’s their man, so how dare I.”

“Just ignore them,” Peter tells me. “They’re just jealous that-”

He suddenly stops, a slightly horrified look on his face.

“Jealous about what?” you implore.

“That they’re not as cool as you!” Remus interjects.

Curious as to what Peter was going to say, but too tired to bother to ask more you simply scoff, “Right, thanks guys.”

“You know what, the cold be damned, since they’re giving you shit for wearing Potter’s hoodie, I’m gonna show mine off too.” Dorcas announces. She unzips her black jacket and sets it beside her. The bright red hoodie she has on is identical to the one I’m wearing except it says “McKinnon” in big gold letters across the back.

“Me too” Remus proudly declares, pulling off his sweater to reveal another bright red hoodie, with the word “Black” on it.

“But since you are both dating Sirius and Marlene, won’t it make it seem more likely that I’m dating James?” you ask.

“Is that so bad?” Lily says to me.

You’re about to declare that yes, that is in fact bad, when it dawns on you, “N-no… I guess not.”

You turn back to the game, slightly in a daze, unaware of the pointed looks shared amongst your friends.

*****

About an hour later, the game is uncomfortably close with the score being Gryffindor: one hundred and Slytherin: ninety. As you watch Marlene dart towards the hoops you hear shouts that the seekers have caught sight of the snitch. It’s a close race as flashes of green and red blur by. We cheer loudly, urging on our team. Within a minute the snitch is caught by Gryffindor. We erupt loudly, celebrating our victory. You watch as the teams land on the ground. More specifically, you watch as James jumps off his broom and runs towards his teammates. You watch the way his black hair shines against the bright sun, how his cheeks are rosy from the cold but also from the rush of winning, how even through his sweater, you can see the definition of his muscles as he lifts the seeker into the air. You begin to realize that maybe the reason you didn’t find it so bad that people thought you were James’ girlfriend was because…

Merlin. You have feelings for James.

The world seems to go quiet for a moment, and there’s a sort of ringing in your ears, at the realization.

“Hey! Are you coming?” Lily asks.

You look up from your spot to see that Remus, Dorcas and Peter have disappeared down into the crowd surrounding the team and that Lily is near the edge of the bleachers, waiting to go join them.

You shake your head, “Yeah, sorry.”

You get up and follow behind her, feeling a little queasy at the thought of seeing James up close.

The crowd is wild as people scream congratulations at the team and hug their friends. In the middle you see James, Sirius and Marlene beaming as they eat up the attention. Marlene has her arm around Dorcas’ waist, unafraid to show off the girl she loves. Though Sirius is a loud person, he is a quiet lover and merely grips Remus’ hand beneath his sweatshirt while he talks to others.

Lily grabs your hand and drags you towards the rest of your friends, “come on, you really are slow today.”

“W-wait Lily, no I,” but before you can resist, you’ve approached the rest of the group. Too afraid to face James first you turn and engulf Sirius in a hug, “nice work today Black! I just love to see Slytherin eat shit.”

Sirius gives you a huge grin, “what can I say, it’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

You then turn to Marlene and squeal, “Marls! You killed it out there. You and James were just so fast, I don’t know how you do it!”

“Natural talent” she brags.

You laugh and begin to turn away when you bump right into someone’s chest. They grab your shoulders, “woah there, careful.”

You look up to see James towering above you.

“Hey, Potter” you say, your voice softening.

“Hey, darling. Enjoy the game?” He asks, a small smile on his face.

His smile, it makes your heart melt. And the term of endearment, one he has always used, suddenly makes you flustered. You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You look down at the turf to avoid his noticing and dig your shoe into the ground, “yeah, it was great! You guys did great!”

To your relief, the crowd starts to disperse and the team starts to walk towards the locker rooms.

“Well, uh, see you in a bit. At the party sometime I suppose.” You tell him, before walking off towards the castle.

“Yeah, see ya.” He says quietly.

You only make it a few steps before you hear him call your name. Your heart beats a little faster as you turn back towards him, “Is that my sweatshirt?”

You cringe inwardly as you walk back towards him, “Oh, yeah, sorry. I should’ve asked. I was just cold and nothing in my closet looked appealing. I’ll go put it right back when I get back to the tower.”

“No, don’t. It looks good on you.” He answers.

You feel butterflies in your stomach, “oh, okay. Thanks. And really, nice job today.”

You turn back around and run to catch up to your friends.

*****

When we get back to the castle you immediately go up to your room and collapse onto your bed. All of these new emotions leave you feeling confused, nervous, and exhausted. You decide that maybe you shouldn’t go to the party and should instead just sleep away your racing thoughts…. Suddenly, you feel two plops down next to you onto your bed.

“What are you guys doing?” You mumble.

“We’ll explain when Marlene gets back.” Dorcas responds.

Not even a few minutes later, the door opens and Marlene comes in, throwing herself on the bed.

“Right, I’m here,” she says, out of breath.

“Did you run here?” Lily asks.

“Of course! We have very important business to attend to.”

“We told you to be discreet!” Dorcas scolds.

“I just told James it was a fashion emergency!” Marlene protests.

You lift your head up to look at your three roommates, “what are you lot talking about?”

They share a look amongst each other and suddenly sit up very seriously.

Lily pulls you up into a sitting position as well.

“Shall I start?” Marlene questions.

The two nod their heads, “Right. Well, congratulations, you have feelings for James Potter!”

Your heart drops, “What? No I don’t. What are you talking about?”

“Ah yes, denial,” Dorcas says smartly.

“We were expecting this,” Lily adds.

“I’m sorry, you were expecting this?”

“Yes. It’s been very clear to all of us that you have feelings for James. We just didn’t know how long it would take you to realize. It seems today is the day.”

“B-but, how? I’ve never once thought about James as anything besides my friend until now.”

“She admits it!” Marlene cheers.

Dorcas glares at her slightly, “It’s okay, love. Sometimes we can’t see what’s right in front of us. That’s what happened to me with Marlene, remember?”

You think back to how the two used to interact before they were dating. They were always close and very touchy. You often caught Marlene looking longingly after Dorcas and remember Dorcas always being jealous of Marlene’s other girlfriends.

“But you two were so obvious!” You proclaim.

“So are you and James,” Lily tells me kindly.

“Does that mean he knows?” You nearly shriek.

Marlene takes your hand lovingly, “No, of course not. James is a lot of things, but observant is not one of them.”

You let out a sigh of relief. But then a wave of panic brushes over you, “What am I supposed to do? I can’t even act normal around him now that I know. I just feel all sweaty and nervous!”

“Just be yourself. He already likes you for you.” Dorcas says warmly.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Honey, when have you ever known James Potter to be subtle about anything? He’s always trying to do everything to get your attention. You just aren’t always paying attention.”

You huff and fall back onto your bed, “Merlin, I hate feelings. I wish things could just go back to the way things were.”

Lily grabs your arm and pulls you back up, “well, seeing as things can’t, let’s make the most of it.”

You give her a questioning look.

“The reason Marlene rushed back up here so fast is because we knew you would need all three of us helping you once you realized your feelings.”

“Yeah, no offense, you’re a bit hopeless when it comes to dating.” Marlene says bluntly.

You smack her arm, “that’s not helpful.”

“Everything will be fine” Dorcas tells you, “now let’s get you dressed for the party. You have a certain Mr. Potter to impress.”

*****

An hour later, the four of you are dressed and ready to go. Your friends have put quite the ensemble together, dressing you in a red, cropped sweater with a pair of dark blue mom jeans that supposedly “make your ass look amazing” (according to Marlene) and gold jewelry. After you told them that James said you looked good in his sweatshirt, they decided that your outfit needed to remind him of it (hence the gold and red). Lily is wearing an adorable green sweater dress with brown boots and her hair is pulled back with a clip. Marlene has on black leather pants and a long sleeve, pink, sheer shirt with only her nipples covered. Dorcas is wearing a blue crop top with an open back, black jeans, and combat boots.

“Guys, we look hot.” Lily announces.

“Hell yeah we do,” Marlene agrees.

“I’m sure Mary will love it,” Dorcas teases.

Lily blushes a bright scarlett, “you really think?”

“Absolutely. You look killer, babe.” You tell her.

“You too, Mrs. Potter,” she says, winking.

You roll your eyes at her before taking a deep breath and staring in the mirror one last time, “right, let’s get this over with.”

“Oh yes, let’s get through this terrible party.” Marlene jokes.

We walk down into the common room where music is blaring and people are spread about talking, laughing, and dancing. As we weave through the crowd of people, Dorcas and Marlene are pulled into a conversation with a Ravenclaw friend from potions class. Lily soon leaves you too, after checking that you are okay, to go and flirt with Mary.

Trying to calm your nerves, you grab a bottle of firewhiskey and plop yourself down onto one of the red couches pushed out of the way.

“Did your fashion emergency get solved?”

You jump a mile at the voice coming from behind. You turn to see James leaning over the couch, smirking.

“The what?” You stutter out.

“Marlene said there was a fashion emergency? Was it solved?”

“Oh! Right. Uh, yeah. Lily had simply no idea what to wear to the party. And that’s very important, you see, because she’s trying to impress Mary.”

He leans closer to me, “I think it's working.”

The smell of his cologne wafts to your nose. You can barely breathe as you turn to look to where he’s pointing.

Despite your anxiousness, you can’t help but smile proudly as you see Lily kissing Mary.

You cough awkwardly, “clothes can be a game changer.”

He looks at you intensely, “yeah they can.”

You think about his sweatshirt from earlier. How he liked it, how it made you feel all safe and cozy, how it made you realize your feelings for him.

“You know, speaking of clothes. I need to give you your sweatshirt back, now that I’m done wearing it.”

“I told you you could hang on to it,” he insists.

“But you’ll want to have it for your future partner.” You say quietly.

“What?” He asks you.

You clear your throat, “oh uh, earlier, when I was wearing your sweatshirt, some girls thought I was your girlfriend, because I guess that’s a thing a boyfriend would do- let them wear his clothes. So, of course, you need to have it so you can give it to your actual partner… when you get one. You know, they seemed pretty interested in you, I’m sure I can point them out if you’re interested. They’re pretty too, so…”

You look up at James to see a pained look on his face.

“Hey, are you okay?”

His voice sounds strained as he says, “yeah. I’ll just go take that sweatshirt off your hands then.”

A lump forms in your throat as you nod.

It seems pretty clear to you that James doesn’t like you.

We walk through the crowd and up to your doom. The door shuts behind us and James stays near the doorway as you go to grab his hoodie from the edge of your bed where you put it, neatly folded. You turn to give it to him but his hands remain at his sides.

“James, your hoodie?”

“Was it really that unbearable for you, for people to think that you’re my girlfriend, that you refuse to hang onto it?”

“James, what?”

“Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but I just can’t help it. I want people to think you’re my girlfriend. Because, I like you. I do. And I’m sorry, I know this ruins things, and I know you don’t feel the same, but I can’t keep hiding it any longer.”

You drop the sweatshirt and walk towards James quickly.

“You mean it?”

He nods.

Slowly, you reach your hand out and cup his cheek. You stroke your thumb across his jawline, studying every feature of his face from his hazel eyes, to the slight smile lines around his mouth, and the soft pink of his lips.

“James, I feel the exact same way about you. It took me a bit longer to realize than you, but I do. I really care about you.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that” he tells me.

Suddenly, he turns you around and pushes you up against the stone wall, “can I kiss you?”

You nod before he catches your lips between his. He tastes like chapstick and mint gum and it’s simply perfect.

You tangle your hands in his already tangled black hair as he grips his hands on your waist.

Eventually, we pull away.

“Maybe we should go back down to the party. People might be wondering where their star player is.” You tease.

“I’ll only agree if you put that hoodie back on. I want to show you off.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, “fine, but turn around.”

He turns around while you change out of your sweater back into his sweatshirt.

“Okay, you’re good to look now.”

He turns around with a huge grin on his face, “my don’t you just look ravishing, darling. I declare you shall never wear anything but my clothes ever again.”

You walk forward and pull him into a hug, “fine by me. I’ve never been more comfortable in my entire life.”

He goes to pull you in for another kiss but you stop him, “later,” you whisper in his ear, winking.

You giddily turn around and quickly escape the room. He chases after you.

Before we enter the common room, you grab his hand tightly. He squeezes it back. As we walk towards our friends, you feel some people staring at the two of you. When we approach Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene they are beaming like idiots.

“Soooooo…. You two, huh?” Sirius smirks suggestively.

James shoves him slightly, yet still has a goofy grin on his face, “piss off.”

“I’m just glad we don’t have to watch them pine over each other anymore” Peter says, relieved.

“No, but now we have to watch them be all lovey dovey,” complains Lily.

“As if we didn’t just see you getting it on with Mary,” you retort.

“Touché.”

“Wait, so are you two… official?” Dorcas enquires.

We look at each other. “I guess we didn’t officially establish that.” You answer.

“Hold on,” James says to you, letting go of your hand.

He jumps up onto the table, “excuse me, may I have everyone’s attention.”

The room quiets as they all turn to look at him.

“Oh no,” you sigh.

“I have a question to ask a very special someone and I want you all here to witness it!” He turns to you with a huge smile on his face, “darling, sweetheart, apple of my eye, will you go out with me?”

You feel the eyes of dozens of people on you. You even feel the glare of many girls you know would kill to be you right now. Yet even then, nothing can bother you. Because when looking at James, you see nothing else.

“Yes! I’ll go out with you James!” You respond, giggling. He jumps off the table and pulls you in for a kiss. The room cheers loudly.

Safe to say we were the talk of the school for a week.

#marauders fanfiction #james potter x you #marauders fandom #james potter x reader #james potter fluff

231 notes · View notes

nitrowyverine · 5 months ago

Text

I thought playing Obscura would help me get rid of my brain worms. no, it just gave me new ones. For Obscura, specifically.

I'll be adjusting the format from my TOUCHSTARVED expanded thoughts post. Brain dump after the cut!

[Demo/CH 1 spoilers are included]

(Header Image from Itch.io page! All images in this post are either from there or the Rotten Raccoons tumblr page)

Design/gameplay thoughts:

In full honesty without fluff: this game fucks immensely.

The setting for Obscura might be my new all-time favorite, like, ever. Mystery underground scandalous marketplace??? Under a mountain???? it's a diverse and vast city that's still elegantly contained and claustrophobic, but in a spicy way. The worldbuilding and flavor is excellent. I really want to run a TTRPG in a similar setting now, since its an area with so many possibilities.

CH. 1/the "demo" has a LOT of meat on it. It's got different endings, variations, a whole soundtrack. Speaking of sountrack-

Obscura is also one of the few games I've put on the soundtrack to just to vibe to. The soundtrack is SO good, and sets such a strong mood/tone. I think it complements the game perfectly.

Allot of people have mentioned it, but I am also a fan of the Safeword pause menu. It's a nice and comforting touch, especially when the game can get so intense. It lets players take a breather if they need it, but also doesn't interrupt the intensity/mood of the game for someone who doesn't want a break from the narrative.

Now, onto character specific thoughts!

Cirrus:

IN MY HOUSE WE DON'T BELIEVE IN NOT STARTING OUT STRONG

Shout outs for having your asexual option in the dating sim be. The kinkiest guy there

Cirrus is a bit too intense for me, however, that is NOT a bad thing in the slightest. I think his route is well done for those who are up for his brand of intensity.

I might still play his route because. damn this boy's issues got me curious about his backstory. ($10 on mommy issues)

I had the hardest time getting to Cirrus's good end during my playthrough because having pretty much any self-preservation instinct around Cirrus gives you a bad/neutral ending. He's the only one I had to pull the guide out to get the best ending. (I think I'm just too sassy)

I get medusa vibes from Cirrus. The snake imagery is more likely tied to the lunar church, but his staunch reluctance to take his own mask off makes me wonder (this is mainly referenced in asks answered by the Rotten Raccoon studios). Refusal to let people see his eyes + snakes + power + slightly unnatural abilities to influence is, something.

I am shaking this man like a snowglobe WHAT IS YOUR DEAL I MUST KNOW MORE

(I am. metaphorically shaking him like a snowglobe. I would never shake this man im terrified)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to shame you for your anime choices. Least likely to be normal about it when you ask for help peeling an orange.

Keir:

HERE COMES BIG MAN

yeah he's tied for favorite right now. the slow burn in his plot is just too good? big man....freckles...secret soft side...im weak

he's so nice I keep forgetting. He kind of kidnaps you? not even kind of he just drags you off the street and goes "you live in my house now". Even Griff calls MC a stray early on. My man really said "Here's a convenient lost human I'm dragging them home now"

oh my GOD they were ROOMATES

I definitely was too nice to him in my first playthrough until I realized he does need (and want) to be sassed to death.

this man is like 6'6 and the canon-ish Vesper height from the CG is 5'4. THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE. This kills the man (me)

The sprite of Keir's ears blushing SENDS ME INTO A FRENZY

I quite liked the gameplay style of Keir's route. I was so focused and invested as soon as I realized I needed to remember specific directions to save the heist group during timed decisions

Something I haven't seen discussed yet: I'm mega curious about the dagger Keir has on his outfit. It's specifically pointed out in text that it's high-quality, and I vaguely remember an ask that Rotten Raccoons answered that said it's a status symbol. (The dagger also just looks SO cool. and....it looks like Francesco's...?)

(My bet is that he either 1. stole it. or 2. got it from Oleander during their tryst (WHICH WE ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT-))

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be gifted a "WORLD'S BEST DAD" mug from his similarly-aged peers. Least likely to live down that one time he ate soap because he thought it was edible.

Francesco:

someone keep the "silver dust" away from this lad im scared

Originally, I was least looking forward to playing Francesco's route since I just wasn't interested in his initial concept. After playing his route though? It was excellently done, and I genuinely had fun. It was refreshing to have a character more naive than Vesper, so more cultural aspects were explained and we got a good alternate perspective on the marketplace. Also, it got REAL spicy in new and exciting ways the other chapters didn't. I'm really looking forward to the next chapters with his route!

I totally love the contrasts in his design and his character. He's got both bright red and blue highlights in his design, his outfit is very pointy and angular while his hair/smile is soft and flow-y.

And in his personality, he's both sweet and open, but extremely cagey about some information, and quite pragmatic when he wants to be. I think he's way smarter than he lets on.

that doesn't mean I don't want to bridal carry him and tuck him into bed at night after a all-nighter party

I do think Fran's slightly looser demeanor could lead to him being even more brutal than the other LI's. Remember that one anime clip (Found it, it's this one from Danshi Koukousei) where a group of friends wants to fight for fun, but one of the friends asks why they need rules in a fight? And said friend is shown like secretly holding a rock and was ready to use it? that's Fran. He would not have chill and does not heed the rules.

"Protect the boy", but mostly to prevent him from tasting blood. Because if that happens we're all fucked

CONCLUSION: Most likely to eat that M&M off the ground because you dared him. Least likely to beat the puppy allegations.

Oleander:

Oleander is tied for favorite with Keir. Oleander is just *chefs kiss* LOOK AT HIM. inscrutable......

Somewhere in an ask answered by Rotten Raccoons studio, they mentioned that for Oleander's route, they were going for a "Sexy boss situation that doesn't feel like a work safety violation". They hit that right on the nose; there's intrigue and a power imbalance, but in a non-restrictive or terrifying way.

I love being involved in the business part of his route. I keep making decisions like "Hmm yes my primary goal is to romance Oleander. But what would be the smartest business move here? How do we advance our agenda?"

Also, I do love playing a sexy evil secretary in a vn. love having a job and being evil at it AND being paid money. 10/10

That dance scene is everything I could have ever wanted no notes

I am fascinated to find out more about what he's been up to since his last trek into the marketplace. Seems like people are trying to kill him all the time anyway, so what would be enough to cause him to leave?

he's like an angler fish, but the lure is his booba

I relate to Oleander in that. I have too many online usernames because I can't stick with one. People get my 800 online names mixed up often. He has the same problem, we're basically twinsies

This man is pretending to be a himbo like his life depends on it (It probably does). He's too smart though, I know for a fact he has at least three different schemes going at any given time.

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be able to help you properly lace a corset (this man knows the boot-to-the-back necessity of the process). Least likely to be allowed to be banker during monopoly night.

Vesper:

black mask enjoyer 4 life

(all three are good I just wanted to say which one I picked. And to add my conclusion section)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to get their shit rocked by a falling piano. Least likely to survive an argument about pineapple on pizza.

Concerns:

With how separate the four routes are, the game could potentially feel like four separate visual novels all in one universe. Maybe I haven't played enough VN's, but there is a feeling of separation between the routes.

In the very beginning of the game, when you're picking your route, I wish there was a bit more heads up/information between who you're picking. For example, I had a rough idea that going into the church is where you'd find Cirrus, but only from information outside the game. I didn't know sticking around for the brawl would push you into Kier's route. It's overall pretty vague to which route you're going based on only in-game information.

Misc thoughts:

Vesper: "How are you going to keep me?? ;)" Keir and Oleander: "crimes" Vesper: "Wh-" Keir and Oleander: "you're an accomplice now congrats we're in this together. wanna get drinks"

catch my socially anxious ass wanting to be under the mountain and wear masks so I don't have to make eye contact with strangers all the time. at least its a fun thought to have when I mask for covid

OKAY FRANCESCO AND KEIR'S DAGGER MATCH? AND ARE RED/BLUE LIKE FRANCESCOS OUTFIT? DOES IT MEAN ANYTHING??? probably not but I do like the pretty knives....

For real, I got the brain worms for this game, I'm on the edge of making a big ol playlist. the headcannons? They go on my friend. they go on. I'm laying awake at night thinking about what each character would order at a coffee shop

by the time I publish this post. I did start working on the playlist

yes, I've also designed my own vesper, its such a prime opportunity for character design.

Obscura also may or may not have inspired me to get involved with an otome jam game team, more on that in the future possibly.....

OVERALL: I got the first chapter/demo of Obscura for free from Itchio/steam. High marks for writing, sound, art, game design, all of it! I am on the edge of my seat waiting for CH2.

TL;DR: If you haven't played it, and love spicy and dark stories, go play it! Part one is free! and fantastic.

Itch.io

Steam

#obscura vn #rotten raccoons #obscura cirrus #obscura keir #obscura francesco #obscura oleander #i've been writing this post for weeks and i just keep editing it. going to hit send now

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ohbabydollie · 8 months ago

Note

Mutual Breakup HC

Schlatt never misses his son's baseball games. Always cheering for him

When the moms learn that he is actually single, they attempt to flirt with him

I personally wanna see how that plays out

refer to the end of goofy dad schlatt hcs for short answer, now here’s the long answer

lots of the moms noticed how sweet schlatt was, how kind he was to all the boys at baseball. how he didn’t hesitate to offer helping them practice or even just playing during the off seasons.

but the one thing they did notice was you on his arm 24/7, always wearing a cute dress, makeup and hair nicely done, an expensive looking ring decorating your finger.

they were so jealous!

you had a husband that cared, that loved you and actively showed it.

until one day you didn’t go to a game, the following week you weren’t there either, schlatt seemed a little more stressed than normal.

the moms would sit around gossiping about it, one woman gets up with a smile “a little trouble in paradise” she says brushing off her jeans, unbuttoning her shirt a little and standing up, quickly walking to the bench schlatt is sitting on as he cheers on his son.

“hey, you’re matt’s dad right?” the woman asks as she sits next to schlatt

“oh yeah, you can call me jay” he says sticking his hand out for a hand shake, she accepts with a smile.

“i’m liz, zane’s mom” she chirps “so, where’s your wife?” she asks

“oh, i don’t have a wife”

“really?” she asks almost shocked “you’re so handsome though!”

“thanks”

“i can’t believe matt’s mom would just let a hunk like you up for grabs” she says gigging, holding onto his arm

“oh, um” schlatt pulls his arm away when she starts pushing up against him.

Liz is almost offended at that, before she gets an idea, “so, i need some help moving furniture, ever since i got divorced from zane’s dad, it’s, it’s been pretty hard” she says sniffling softly, putting on her best show.

“i can help you out with that for sure” he says “bring over some buddies, move whatever you need out” he offers

“no, i was thinking it could just be you, it’s not much” she says smiling “maybe after the game?”

“yeah, i can do it then” he says focusing on the game

“you know it’s been pretty lonely since the divorce” she mutters seductively “the house hasn’t had a real man in it in so long” she says biting her lip

“oh, um” schlatt looks at her, not knowing what to do

“Jay!” his head goes snapping in your direction watching as you come from the parking lot with a soft smile in a long sundress. you’re practically glowing in the light as you wave to schlatt, showing off your belly slightly, holding a basket of snacks and drinks for after the game.

liz scoffs at this, unbuttoning another button and pulling the shirt down slightly, hoping to bring back schlatt’s attention.

“she’s gotten a little…pudgy, don’t you think?” liz asks almost disgusted, leaning into schlatt “really let herself go” she spits pushing her boobs together as schlatt pays her no attention, instead staring at the way your belly moves.

“nope, she’s just pregnant again” schlatt says looking at you with a dopey grin “matt’s wanted a little sister for the longest time now, not really into the younger brother thing”

“i-i thought you weren’t together” she asks shocked

“we’re not, but boy does she look good pregnant” he says getting up to help you with the snacks “give me a call when you need the help”

even if schlatt had the option to be disloyal to you, he couldn’t, especially not when you looked that delicious while pregnant

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #mbu!jschlatt

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pseudowho · 1 year ago

Text

Infiltration, Chapter Three: Deadly Games

Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.

*SMUT/NSFW/18+ BEGINS HERE*

A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.

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So do I just lie here and wait for him to wake up, or do I wake him up? you puzzled to yourself, hot and blushing, being tightly spooned by Kento. I didn't have him down as a cuddler, you pondered, reasoning to yourself that if this was going to make things awkward, at least it wasn't your fault.

As you considered your options, you tried to adjust your position, and were met with Kento's arms tightening around you, his nose burying deeply into your neck, and a gravelly, sleepy groan. You almost spontaneously combusted as you feel his hips press hard against your lower back.

Kento dreamt, of warm beaches, the sun high and hot in the sky. He took off his shoes and socks, throwing them further up the sandy plains, and stepped into the shallows. He knew he was in good company, but did not know from whom. The sun glowed down on him, his chest, hips and thighs so warm and he could stay here forever in bliss, but he felt wakefulness begin to roll over him, half-in and half-out of his dreaming. He reluctantly let the dream fade...but the warmth from the sun did not.

Taking a deep, slow breath through his nose, and inhaling a warm, soft morning smell, and your shampoo, the traces of your perfume, Kento smiled to himself, before--

"Uhm...Kento? Are you awake?" Kento's head snapped up, looking down at you in bleary-eyed alarm. Your eyes met, you blushing furiously, and his brain finally registered every part of your soft body in contact with his.

"Shit-- shit-- I'm so sorry, that was-- I'm not normally--" Kento tripped over his words, and so did you.

"No no honestly it's fine-- I mean it was nice-- no, not nice-- I just mean no harm done--"

Kento was laid on his front, face down in the pillow squeezed between his forearms, silent and stewing with embarrassment. You, sat up at this point, couldn't help but laugh at him, rubbing his shoulder gently and reassuring him through your blushes.

"Gosh Kento, if you needed a hug, you could have just said," and dodged, laughing, as he reached out to swat at you as you headed to the kitchen. Mortified, Kento waited for you to leave before jumping up out of your (our) futon, rolling it away neatly and locking himself in the bathroom.

Cold tap switched on, and splashing his face, Kento couldn't look into himself in the mirror, sure he'd receive more second-hand embarrassment just from his reflection. Plus, he had a more...pressing issue to manage, as his hand slipped down to squeeze his rigid cock through his pyjamas.

Did she feel that? She must have felt that--shit, he stewed, leaning against the sink, one hand clasping his mouth and jaw, and the other trying to squeeze his throbbing cock into submission. Stop being such a teenager, Kento.

Stripping, Kento switched on the shower, and stepped in, still throbbing, long and thick and trying to force filthy images of you out of his mind. He got absolutely nowhere, still feeling your plush arse against him, his arm squashing your breasts between you, your ear so close to his lips...would she have stopped me? His mind wandered lazily.

As the hot water tumbled down his back, Kento was lost in himself, face prickling with steam as he imagined, instead of leaning away from you, staying, pulling you closer. In his daydream, he took your earlobe between his teeth and lips, meticulously licking down your neck. He imagined you, surprised but open to his advances-- cute, he thought, as the you in his mind squeaked at his mouth on your neck.

Kento's hand, still gripped around his aching cock, had started to move now, stroking slowly, twisting a little at the tip, pink and already dripping pre-cum. A tiny voice in Kento's brain told him to stop, this is wrong, before another told him there's no way you're going to get through the day without this.

Kento imagined grinding his cock against your arse as he rid you of your pyjamas, his image of your body blurred, knowing he wouldn't be able to do it justice. You welcomed his advances with open arms, eyes glazed and pleading while he kissed his way down the contours of your body, lingering over every scar, every stretch mark, tracing his tongue along you, until his mouth settled between your legs. Kento clapped a hand over his mouth, suppressing a groan as he wondered on the sounds you'd make as he took your pussy into it, his tongue flicking forward against his fingers in imitation.

As his hand sped up, pumping himself furiously, pleasure crept through his thighs and lower back as he heard the wet slick of his hand against himself. His mind flashed frantically with images of you now; hands bound with his tie, tear-stained with pleasure as he bounced you on his lap in an office chair-- hair messy, Kento's fingers deep in it as he lifts you against his apartment wall when you get home from work, not even removing your skirt before he plunges his cock deep into you-- cumming deep inside your wet pussy as he pounds you into the mattress, your legs wrapped around him and--

Kento came hard, coughing and gasping behind his hand, now cupped over his mouth, as he caught his seed, overflowing from his fingers in hot, sticky spurts. Kento trembled as he felt his orgasm wash through him, slowly stroking himself a few more times, lubricating himself with his own cum, to release the last few weak spurts into his hand. Kento breathed heavily under the heat of the shower, releasing his hand while his cock softened and the water rinsed away the evidence of his total lack of self-control.

Post-nut clarity slowly ebbed into Kento, and he cursed himself quietly, mortified that he'd just jacked himself off like a teenager over you, totally innocent in all this, in the room next-door.

Drying himself, he realised, as his embarrassment deepened, that he had brought no clothes in with him. Wondering what the safest option was, he opened the door a crack, nose pricking with delicious smells from the kitchen, and called out to you.

"Sorry, I uh...forgot my clothes. Could you bring my suitcase?" You agreed, cheerfully dropping his suitcase at the door; he couldn't meet your eye as he glimpsed the satin edges of the pyjamas he'd just imagined ripping off your body to pleasure you.

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Finally dressed, and under control, Kento was, on the surface, his usual stoic self as he walked into the kitchen, facial expression always one nanosecond from 'pissed-off', to find you had made breakfast.

A stack of warm buttered toast, a pot of tea and one of coffee, two golden omelettes and a jug of juice sat on the table. Domesticity took Kento almost as far as lewd thoughts of you, and he looked at you with nothing short of adoration as you poured him a coffee.

"What fun it is to have a wife," you teased, sitting down and taking a bit of toast, "I think I want a wife."

"How many eggs did you put in this omelette? It's massive."

"All of them," you stated, "all of the eggs. Eat up."

Straightening his tie to stop himself from looking flustered, Kento sat down and started on his omelette. "They left us food?" he asked, pausing-- the omelette was fluffy, buttery, cheesy. Oh, I'm in too deep, sulked Kento to himself, appalled by being so basic that he was won over breakfast. You hummed affirmingly, blowing steam off your tea, trying to conceal how deeply heartwarming you would find it to enjoy breakfast like this every day with Kento.

"Well, there's no money here, just credits for us to use at the little village shop. No phones either obviously." You both wiggled your pagers at each other, hidden in your clothes, your method of calling out to Jujutsu High if and when you needed help.

"A little vintage even for you, Kento."

"Yes, well...hard to smuggle a carrier pigeon into a place like this." Kento's heart leapt as you laughed, wanting to make you laugh more.

You discussed your plans for the day- namely, village exploration and general reconnaissance before the group dinner that evening. You discussed Kento's combat plan for the spar with the new cult members, knowing you wouldn't be asked to fight as a non-combatant cursed-technique wielder.

"I'll be up-front with my abilities, without killing anyone," he mused out loud, legs crossed and hands folded over his knees, "there's a good chance they'll know if I'm holding back. It may lay me out as a...target, though, I suppose. The Curse-user jujutsu world is competitive, I hear." You nodded, tea steaming your glasses again, very obviously worried about Kento.

He reached over the table, swiping steam off your glasses, and looked directly at you, "I'll be fine," he assured you again, to your cynical head tilt, "Unless they've got some filthy Special Grade, or someone whose technique is a poor fit for mine, I'll be safe. And if it's too much, we'll get out." Or, I'll get you out, at least, he thought.

Eyes narrowed, it was like you'd read his mind, "Either we both get out, or neither of us get out, Kento. You're not dying here for me like some bloody hero." Kento stared you down, his mouth set in a grim line- you knew your arguments fell on deaf ears. Stubborn old goat, you sulked.

You stood, starting to collect the plates, and Kento placed his hands on yours, stopping you.

"Go and get ready. You made breakfast, I'll clean up. We've got a busy day ahead of us...darling."

You scooted out of the kitchen as fast as you could, heart thumping, and completely unable to work out if Kento felt the same for you as you did for him.

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Kento waited for you outside of your little house, taking in the village around him. The houses, several dozen of them, stepped down the shallow mountainside amongst forest, nestled between tall trees. A tiny wooden bridge arched over a babbling brook, the mountain waters clear and cool, and the rest of the village wound away through the trees. Everything was meticulously tidy, even for Japan, and not a single piece of pale grey gravel and coiffed grass seemed out of place. It is beautiful, he pondered, such a shame it belongs to a hideous murderous cult.

Kento considered the questions he wanted answered; who or what was at the root of the group, commanding the power? How did they weed that out to make disbanding the cult easier? And how many of their members were outside the grounds at present, taking part in illicit activities? Kento knew you'd have to infiltrate the central group quarters to gather most of this information, his stomach sinking to know that you were going to be doing some of that alone. While he stood in the chill breeze, his heart stuttered as you stepped out of the house, and Kento realised he never got to see you outside of work clothes.

Skipping down the steps to Kento, your smile warmed him through, and as he smiled softly back at you, your stomach did somersaults. Kento held out his hand to you. You hesitated, and, reaching out, you squeaked as Kento intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you in close to him. Play the game, his eyes said to you, and, blushing, you swung your hand in his, beginning to talk openly with each other about how beautiful the village was, and how happy you were to be there.

Shoes crunching on the frosty gravel, you made your way up to the centre of the village.

"Oh my god," you gasped. The village seemed...entirely self-enclosed. Quaint shops, hairdressers, and even a tea-room you noted, lined a little street, early in the morning but already bustling with people and activity. You and Kento walked through slowly, politely introducing yourself to passers-by. You knew the Cult had already grown to be several-hundred members strong, but seeing them in person made you realise how many lives were at stake in your mission.

You and Kento spent a day together which, considering your mission, had no right being as pleasant as it was. You watched deer together in the forest, talking with a nearby gardener about the origins of the Cult. You enjoyed a quiet lunch in the tearoom, listening to the old ladies at the counter gossip about some of the Cult's members. Kento carried you on his back across the river stones while you squealed for him not to fall in, drawing the attention of several other young couples, silently beckoning them to you to harvest more information. You bought Kento a new scarf- he tried it on, flustered, and bought you one to match, the old lady at the shop wittering about how nobody else likes her traditional knitwear these days.

As the afternoon drew in, with the sun beginning to slowly set, you shivered, heart racing when Kento put his arm round you and pulled you close to him. Feeling, as a team, much more informed about the village and its occupants, you headed back to the house.

Stepping through your doors, clicking them closed behind you, your stomach sank as the pretence fell away, and you and Kento were friends and colleagues again. You chastised yourself for being so ridiculous. But as you watched Kento take off his coat and shoes, you couldn't help but wonder what life with him could be like.

"So..." you began, needing to break the silence, "You noticed that everyone apart from the couples is much older, right?" Kento hummed his confirmation. "And the victims we know of, missing and dead...average age?"

"Almost all of them were 25 to 30 years old," Kento confirmed, "so they seem to value youth in their members and their victims for some reason."

You nodded, taking the information in slowly. You reached into your pocket, pulling out a wooden tab covered with engravings. Holding it up, you tossed it to Kento.

"I stole this from the teashop. It was outside their door. Every building had one, all the houses do too. Does it mean anything to you?"

Kento's clever fingers rolled the wooden tab around, assessing it from all angles, "Protective effigies?" he mused, "But against what? There's so much Cursed-energy here. Some of those couples out there had powerful levels. I worry it's hiding something not human from us."

You looked at him grimly. "I think I'd need to get in a little closer to convince someone to give me direct answers." You tended to be able to compel individuals to give you the information you sought, with your Cursed-technique, rather like how Inumaki could use Cursed-speech. Kento nodded, sagely.

"At dinner tonight...you network, while I spar. I'll keep the attention on me." You nodded, putting the kettle on, plan of action agreed.

Kento wandered off to the living room, and you called out to him.

"What's the dress code again?"

"Black tie."

Ah, shit, you thought, your mind already lost on Kento in a tuxedo.

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Staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you felt obscenely self-conscious in your dress, which felt far sexier than it had when you packed it. Slinky, with cleavage and thigh exposed, you felt mortified to stand beside Kento, this sculpture of a man, and had a sinking feeling of inadequacy. Normally, you'd just stay home if you didn't feel up to a social event, but this wasn't an option tonight. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, you adjusted your necklace before appraising yourself once more in the mirror. It will have to do.

You opened the door to Kento stood directly on the other side, fist raised to knock at the door. Your eyes met, and Kento's face remained completely neutral as you took each other in.

Gorgeous.

Blushingly, you tiptoed out of the bathroom, trying not to make a fool of yourself in your heels which suddenly felt far too high. You could hardly concentrate, Kento all of a sudden looking like James Bond, glasses-free and commanding the room in his tuxedo, his cologne overwhelming your senses until it was all you could do to not undress him then and there. This man is a triple-threat and he doesn't even know it, you thought with absolute wonder. You hoped Kento couldn't sense how turned-on by him you were.

Seeing you dressed like this brought all of Kento's unholy thoughts of you that morning back to him, and he felt himself twitch inside his boxers. You're ridiculous, Nanami, he chastised himself sharply.

Watching you with crinkled eyes as you topped up your lipstick in the mirror, Kento gave himself a moment to fantasise about lipstick stains on his white collar, before holding a hand out to you. You placed your hand demurely in his, and stepped out into the night.

Later that night, as Kento held your battered and bruised body against his, his stomach filled with ice to realise how close to death you had come after only 24 hours in the village.

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The vast central courtyard of the Temple at the centre of the village had been turned into a twinkling oasis, roofless and open to the stars, and you and Kento both found yourself momentarily spellbound by its beauty. Fire pits and lanterns scattered around the winding sand and low sprawling shrubs, provided unexpected pools of warmth, on what was otherwise a cold night.

Offered tall glasses of champagne immediately on arrival, Kento pressed his to his lips, taking absolute care to drink nothing, and saw you were doing the same. Your clever eyes scanned the courtyard, taking in at least a dozen other couples, The Fathers with who you assumed were their spouses on their arms, and smartly-dressed wait staff. The courtyard area seemed too vast to house such an intimate gathering, until you noticed that at the centre, a sizeable square arena appeared to have been set up, probably for the sparring, you believed. Kento, too, drank in his surroundings, and you, whose commitment and professionalism he found deeply admirable.

Kento offered a bow to The Fathers, who approached with their spouses to make their greetings. You separated briefly from Kento, making your acquaintance with The Fathers' wives, who seemed perfectly ordinary. While idly chatting with these women, already bored at how the conversation had slipped so dully towards dress choices and jewellery choices, you overheard snippets of Kento's conversation with The Fathers.

"...all expected to get involved in the fighting of course."

"...wonder if we'll have any major casualties this year?..."

"...non-combatant Curse-users included?"

Your stomach clenched. Would you be expected to fight? While you could easily handle yourself against Curses of a Second-grade variety, your cover would be immediately blown if you suddenly transformed from Mrs.Tsuda, Kento's meek and mousey wife, into an experienced combatant who could use her Cursed-technique to wriggle her way through a great number of fights.

With a sinking feeling, you realised that to keep your cover, you would be forced to put yourself at the mercy of your adversary, and throw the fight. Kento had clearly realised this too, and, judging by how tight his jaw had become, how narrowed his eyes were, he was feeling as deeply concerned as you.

You stepped back together as the wait staff called the crowd over for dinner. Feeling bile rise in your throat, your hand desperately reached out alongside his body to gain purchase with his hand. Kento gripped yours, anguished, holding it tightly to his belly, afraid to let you go. Champagne now abandoned on a nearly table, he fingered the pager loosely in his pocket, wondering if he wished to call for help already.

I can't, he thought desperately, there are too many cult members here, and multiple more unlocated and located outside the complex. They'd scatter. The fight would be vast. It would be chaos.

But as he looked at you, trying desperately to conceal the fear on your beautiful face, he considered the failure of the mission to matter vastly less important to him than the loss or injury of you. Prepared to send the pre-agreed code for rescue on the pager, he noticed you shake your head almost imperceptibly. You looked into him as you sat beside each other at the long dinner table, your hand squeezing his thigh now. You looked at him with pleading eyes; feeling sick to his stomach, Kento knew you were wholly unwilling to risk the devastation brought by throwing the mission now. You would throw the fight instead.

You smiled demurely at your neighbours; a couple made of a rather intense looking young woman, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and with dark, almost black eyes boring into you as if you were the enemy (which I am, you reminded yourself), and an easygoing man, who looked wholly uncomfortable in his tuxedo, but who offered you an easy, reassuring smile and leaned forwards to introduce himself.

"I'm Keisuke," he offered, inclining his head towards you and Kento, "and this is my wife, Emi." Keisuke risked a short sideways glance at his wife, who continued to glare up and down the table like a hungry dog. You caught Keisuke swallowing hard. You realised he looked at his wife as if he didn't know who she was anymore.

As the first course was brought out, Kento was making tight, formal conversation with Emi. You and Keisuke chatted, discussion flowing naturally together, but hushed.

"Of course, Emi's the one with the Cursed-power here," he confided sheepishly, "I've not got a scrap of it. Sometimes she tells me I'm part of the problem," he stuttered, laughing at himself. You felt your heart sink for him. He was clearly madly in love with his wife, and had dropped his whole life to come and join the cult she had wished so desperately to join.

"And you're something of the same I hear?" Keisuke said hopefully, smiling encouragingly at the wait staff who came to take his plate, "Not much of a Cursed-power girl, yourself?"

You swallowed hard, "Uh, no. I have a technique, but really I just use it to keep Curses away from me," you intoned, trying your best to sound embarrassed. Keisuke laughed warmly.

"That sounds like the only Cursed-technique worth knowing, honestly. I dread the thought of being able to see Curses, but if I could, I'd want to hide myself away too."

Oh, sweet boy, you thought to yourself, you have no idea what you've got yourself into.

Kento's hand crept over the table to grasp yours by the fingers, his thumb stroking against the back of your knuckles. You held onto him, your lifeline. Keisuke glanced to your clasped hands with envy, as did Emi, but for pronouncedly different reasons. You frowned as you appraised Emi, noting how her hand moved sharply into her lap as Keisuke reached out to hold hers, and how she looked at Kento with steely-eyed determination.

Dinner drew to an end far too soon. You watched in trepidation as Father Shinzu stood, tapping lightly on a glass to gather everyone's attention.

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"The very best of evenings to you all, we are delighted to welcome such promising couples to our midst. Though there are some of you who are arguably more powerful than others, we hope the sparring this evening can open our minds and hearts to each other in a way befitting the Cursed-power we hope to continue to cultivate to the best of our ability."

Kento began to feel a grim realisation wash over him. Father Shinzu continued talking, "We have seated you in such a way, that your sparring partners for this evening shall be he or she of the corresponding gender, of the couple sat opposite you."

Your eyes met Emi's for the first time. Her beautiful eyes glinting like flint, she smiled coldly at you. Keisuke was the colour of sour milk as he stared, slack-jawed, at Kento. Kento, lost in his own fear for you, did nothing to make himself look less terrifying.

You saw it now. You were sure Keisuke did too. It was clear as day. You were a bad match for Kento, your Cursed-power too weak to 'cultivate' a powerful new generation with him. The Fathers had already determined he and Emi to be a much more promising match. Who better than Kento and Emi to kill each other's existing partner?

"We shall draw names to determine who fights first. Please come and take your seats by the arena."

You were struck by the absurd, with the knowledge that you would all be fighting, preferably to the death, in black tie. You looked at your heels scathingly, cursing your choice of footwear. Slipping them off and leaving them under your chair, you fancied your chances better barefoot. You felt sick to your stomach, totally backed into a corner, with the choice to either use your Cursed-technique and be caught, or throw the fight and hope someone stepped in before Emi killed you. Kento's brain ticked and ticked, rapidly forming a plan.

As the others filed away from the table, you and Kento stood to join them, but Keisuke's hand shot out desperately to grab yours over the table. Quick as a flash, Kento gripped his wrist, white-knuckled and smoldering at Keisuke. Keisuke looked wildly from you to Kento and back again.

"Listen to me," he hissed urgently, "she's a poisoner, that's her technique." Kento's grip on Keisuke's wrist loosened marginally as he clicked that Keisuke was trying to save you. Keisuke continued, hurried and frantic, "She can fight, yes, but just as well as anyone else. But if she looks like she's going to spit at you, run." Keisuke let go of you, shaking Kento off him, and, straightening his hair and looking wildly around him, he continued to the seats to sit beside his wife.

Kento resolved to not harm a hair on this man's head, outrageously grateful to him for his bravery. You held tightly to Kento as you walked over to the chairs, feeling weak at the knees. At best, you were about to be beaten to a pulp. At worst, you'd be dead or dying.

Two pairs fought before you. Within fifteen minutes, the bloodied corpse of a woman was being dragged out of the arena, her husband sobbing wildly in the chairs as staff restrained him and led him away, before he could bodily attack The Fathers, who looked at the man with mild distaste. Kento felt cold seep through him as he heard the man's choking cries for his wife, being led away through the Temple. Kento felt you tremble beside him. As his hand gripped yours, you felt him shaking, too.

You heard your name being called, sounding like it was coming from underwater. You nodded, resolved to not go to your death as the meek Mrs.Tsuda. You would fight. Your proficiency would, perhaps, surprise them. But it was worth the risk, knowing how reluctant they would be to give up a prize such as Kento.

As you stood, you gripped your dress at its slit, and tore sideways until your floor length gown was halfway up your thighs. You tucked the freed length of fabric under your dress into the side of your underwear. If in doubt, I can always garrot this bitch to death, you thought as you walked into the arena with Emi.

You had the narrowest of moments to prepare. Completely ignoring the countdown, Emi threw herself at you, striking you hard across the face. You saw stars, feeling Cursed-energy imbued into the hand responsible for the hit, and you stumbled, your head hitting the floor hard.

Instantly, Emi was on top of you, straddling you and pinning you to the floor. As she opened her mouth, taking Keisuke's warning, you threw a handful of sand upwards into her open mouth. Heaving her off of you, you stood, pulled the dress fabric from beneath your dress, and pulled it tightly around Emi's throat.

Huffing with exertion, you had a few seconds to notice Emi had managed to get a hand between the fabric and her throat, and, with her pulling it forwards hard, you fell over Emi, feeling blood and bruises blossom over your arms as you skidded over the cold gravel. You threw yourself sideways, feeling your skin tear against the ground again as Emi spat at you, Cursed-energy in the form of a vicious blue poison splattering onto the ground where your body just was. You tried and failed to get up.

You felt one, two, three kicks to your ribs and you rolled, gasping, her hits far stronger than the average woman's. You felt your restrained Cursed-technique burn in your throat, wanting to implant thoughts to stop, that this fight is demeaning, not worth it, but were totally corseted by the mission and unable to give yourself away.

As you coughed, bleeding and shivering, you felt Emi's hand grip your hair, wrenching your head up to look at her as she opened her mouth to spit again, and--

"Enough." Kento's voice rang out, deep and commanding, and all eyes turned to him. "Enough." He stepped over chairs, effortlessly reaching the arena in just a few steps with his long legs, and grabbed Emi's wrist, hauling her off you. Emi turned away mortified and furious, and Father Tatsu glowered at Kento.

"Is there a problem, Mr.Tsuda?"

"A problem?" Kento laughed coldly, "A problem. You compare my wife to him," Kento jutted his jaw sharply towards Keisuke, "as if she has no Cursed-energy, and then expect me to waste my talents fighting him, after his wife has just murdered mine? Don't make me laugh." Father Tatsu sneered, a look of disgust on his face.

"What are you suggesting, Mr.Tsuda?" He responded, coolly.

"I'm suggesting," continued Kento, venom in his voice, "that if you believe myself and my wife incapable of offering powerful children to this community, you're very much mistaken. I won't be insulted by you lumping my wife in with scum like that." Keisuke gulped, near tears at the scathing attack. You lay, stunned and bleeding in the gravel, but prepared to reveal yourself and fight at any given moment.

The atmosphere hung on a thread. Father Tatsu opened his mouth to speak, but Father Shinzu got there first.

"Quite right too, my boy. We support the potential of the couple in this community, not the individual," reassured Father Shinzu, who eyed his furious brother shrewdly, "and I, for one, think your wife's ability shows great potential. There is indeed a whole clan that boasts Cursed-speech as its inheritance."

Kento had already leaned down and scooped you easily into his arms, where you lay gratefully, shivering with your face pressed into his chest. He began to walk away with you across the courtyard. Father Tatsu's voice rang out behind you both.

"And yet, we have still seen no evidence of your abilities, Mr.Tsuda."

Kento paused, and sat you gently on a low plinth. Taking off his tuxedo jacket, he wrapped it around you, turned on his heel, and strode back to the arena. Stepping in front of Emi, he glowered down at her. Then, he looked to The Fathers.

"What do you like better? Her or your temple?" Father Tatsu moved to answer, a familiar greedy look in his eye. Father Shinzu raised his hand abruptly.

"That will not be necessary," he interrupted, "If my brother so chooses, he can organise a more fitting match for you in the coming days. Please, tend to your wife, Mr.Tsuda.

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Kento placed towels down on your futon, guiding you to it to sit, treating you as if you were made of glass. Still shaken, and not used to feeling so utterly defenceless, you wrapped your arms around your knees, hearing Kento clatter about in the kitchen.

You felt him kneel beside you, feeling again like your head was underwater as he called your name. Without warning, you burst into tears, feeling new injuries laid over scars from your last battle, from another fight you nearly lost. Kento pulled you to his chest, now covered with smears and spatters of your blood, holding you close while you sobbed your heart out to him for the second time in less than 24 hours.

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Chapter 4: The Rumbling Shrine, link HERE!

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