#i keep feeling bad about tagging these in the main tags i promise it's just to keep things neat on my blog

[problemnyatic]

Look, the bottom line is this. You're gonna be wrong and fuck up sometimes, that's just how being human works. No matter what you mean or how much you care, sometimes, you're gonna do something or say something that hurts someone or perpetuates bigotry you don't believe in.

The goal isn't to do no wrong, that's an impossible standard. The mark of "a good person" isn't that they always do good, it's that they're willing to admit when they've failed, done wrong, made a mistake, and they're willing to course-correct when they do.

It's important that you're trying. It's okay to be the bad guy. You don't need to get defensive, you don't need to stake your identity in "person who never does that kind of wrong." You just gotta be able to say "Fuck, my bad, I'm sorry," accept that your behavior didn't reflect your beliefs, and change your behavior so that it better represents who you mean to be.

The less time you spend lingering on whether it feels like people believe you are who you say you are, the more time you can spend getting better at being that person.

Some people will try to tear you down when you make mistakes, they'll try to pigeonhole you as a "bad person," someone whose very existence is defined by doing harm. This isn't your problem, and it's not your responsibility to prove anything to them. They don't have to believe you, and you don't have to appease them. So long as you're willing to accept when you *do* hurt someone, intentional or not, and you're willng to put in the effort to make reparations and change, you'll never "be a bad person."

Let yourself fuck up. All you have to do is course-correct when you notice your actions' impact have strayed from your intentions. The right people will notice that effort, and they'll be proud of you. And perhaps most importantly of all, they'll let you make that effort. Anyone who tells you it's too late to change, to discourage you from improving, or stop you from trying, is not your frend. You don't have to impress them. Ignore them, and let yourself change.

[rollforjackass]

that optimist crowley quote from the book got me thinking, because he kind of Has to be. in order for a demon's job to be necessary, you have to believe that human nature is inherently Good in order to believe it's corruptible. likewise with aziraphale and angels, you have to believe that human nature is inherently Wicked in order to believe it needs saving.

in fact, i think what makes them kind of give up on their jobs is that they're given ample opportunity for crowley to see that humans come up with wickedness all on their own and for aziraphale to see that humans do wonderfully kind things all on their own, which goes against their own inherent beliefs but fits right in with each other's.

[sweetvalentinescandy]

im so disappointed in my art lately . im not a beginner artist, but i feel like everything i do looks like i am . i feel like it would only be acceptable for a beginner . i havent made any progress since i was 11 . today is not a good day

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Still You Want Me

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.

Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.

Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“

Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“

��You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“

“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“

“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”

“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”

“She’s my freakin’ wife-“

“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“

“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“

Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“

“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”

Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.

Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he’d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.

Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer. 

But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.

That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-

“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”

“Wha-“

Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“

“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“

“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“

“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“

“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“

“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“

“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“

Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“

“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“

“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“

“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“

“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“

“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“

Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful. 

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“

“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“

Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”

There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.

“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“

“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone. 

But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-

“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“

Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“

He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“

“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”

“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”

Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”

Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.

They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.

Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.

He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“

Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”

“No, the music was on, I know you said-“

Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”

Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“

“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”

Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“

“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”

Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.

“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”

“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“

“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“

“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”

“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.” 

Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“

“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”

“Sammy-“

Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“

“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”

“But I could-“

“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“

Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”

“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”

“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”

Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“

“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”

It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”

“Dean!” 

He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.

“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“

“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“

Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“

“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“

Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down. 

Usually.

“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“

Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“

“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“

“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“

She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“But I’ve been mean-“

“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“

“He said you had mood swings.”

She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest.  “You’re a snitch-“

“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”

She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room. 

And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.

Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.

Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them. 

End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.

Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons

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Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

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@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

[joemama-2]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ a symphony of silence

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ synopsis: if you want to know what it’s like to love someone who was never yours, ask gojo satoru.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags/warnings: angst, unrequited love, crying, happy ending, talks of soulmates

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ wc: 5.5k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ a/n: thank you all so much for 1k followers!! I appreciate every bit of love and support I have received and I hope with this new year, I can make you all happy with my work. :) this is just a little thing, but I really hope u guys enjoy it. as always, have a wonderful day and eat well!

The days feel brighter with you. 

No amount of paperwork, miscalculations, messed up orders can change the light you bring into his life. The moment he met you, he knew it was strange. Feeling himself being reeled in like a fish too quickly scared him. But if you asked him that question, he’d never admit his fear. 

His smile had a mind of its own, curling up in a subconscious way whenever you so much as spared him a fleeting glance. And when you smiled at him? He was on cloud nine. His heart beat faster and stomach fluttered like a little schoolboy when he was in your vicinity. 

But he was always careful. So careful, too careful. Like the way someone treads lightly around a fragile thing they can never keep. You were so full of life, so innocent in your joy, and he was nothing but a darkened silhouette in the background.

He knew what you deserved, and it wasn’t him. Not a man like him, burdened with secrets and a past he couldn’t shake off. And you? You were meant for someone who could offer the world, not someone like him who could barely provide anything but a fleeting moment of warmth.

He had a way of slipping into your presence unnoticed, his longing buried deep within the corners of his chest. When he laughed at your jokes, it was because he couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing through him, of knowing just how badly he wanted to be more than a passing acquaintance. He wanted to reach out, touch your hand, but the words always died in his throat, swallowed by the fear of your rejection.

He knew the truth, though. You would never see him as he saw you. You would never feel that electric pull, that magnetic force that lured him to you in ways he couldn’t explain, ways he would never allow himself to. Because it would hurt too much, to love someone who didn’t even know.

The days grew brighter with you, but in the back of his mind, he could feel the darkness creeping in. He was just a shadow in your life, and nothing more. And it was enough for him, even if it meant living in a love that would never be returned. As long as you were happy. As long as you smiled. That was all he could ever ask for. He sometimes joked with himself about just saying ‘fuck it’ and getting down on one knee for you. He would. 

Too bad his best friend had the balls to do it before he did. 

He saw it coming, of course. You and Suguru have been together for five years. He was there through every phase of your growing relationship, a background character in a main couple’s story. It’s why he felt guilty about his feelings—his thoughts. But he always justified it with a he knew you first. 

He watched the way Suguru could make you laugh with the simplest words, how your eyes lit up when he held you close. It was the kind of love that made the world feel like it had all the right answers—answers he never had. He shouldn’t be pining after you. You were Suguru’s, and the world had made that clear. But there was always a part of him that entertained the what ifs. He was there before Suguru, before the smiles and the promises, before the certainty of love that seemed to hold you two together like a force stronger than gravity.

And yet, here he was, helpless. Watching you slip further away, like sand through his fingers. You were so easy to love, and so impossible to have.

He’d gotten good at keeping his distance. At laughing along with Suguru’s jokes, at pretending to be happy for the both of you. But inside, it was a constant ache, a pain that never went away, no matter how many times he buried it under a mask of smiles and camaraderie. He wondered if you ever noticed the way he looked at you. The quiet longing that always seemed to flicker in his eyes when you spoke. But you never did. How could you? You were too wrapped up in the love you had with Suguru to ever see the way his heart twisted with every word you spoke, every touch you gave.

But maybe, just maybe, he could keep pretending. Keep pretending that your happiness meant more than his own. Because that’s what love was, right? Sacrificing for the one you cared about, even if they never knew the weight of it.

“Are you happy, Satoru?”

Your question was simple enough, but you really had no idea just how much weight it held. Not like he would tell you. His head tilts, playfully smiling. “Happy? Why do you ask, hm?”

“I’ve just been wondering…” you mutter, tracing your glass rim with a manicured nail. Looking up at him in such a way that makes him want to wrap his arms around your body and hold on tight. “I don’t want to be invasive, but sometimes it just feels…faked.”

Huh, so you’re not as oblivious as he thought you were. 

But your words hit him like a cold wave, a shock to his system. You had no idea. You never would. The smile on his face falters for just a moment, yet it’s enough. Enough to make him feel like he’s exposed, vulnerable, like you might see right through the layers he’d spent so long building up.

Faked.

That word stings more than anything else you could’ve said. Because, in some twisted way, you were right. He had spent so long pretending, so long wearing a mask that even he had begun to forget what it was like to feel anything real. What it was like to want something for himself, to let someone in without fear.

He takes a slow breath, his gaze softening, eyes flicking to the side, pretending to consider the question. “I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?” His voice is casual, a practiced indifference, but inside, his heart is pounding.

You don’t buy it. You never did.

“I don’t know, Satoru. You always seem so… distant. Like you’re somewhere else, even when you’re here.” There’s a hint of concern in your tone, but it’s laced with a careful distance, as if you’re treading around something fragile.

He swallows hard, the weight of your gaze digging into him. You see it, don’t you? The cracks in the armor he’s so carefully constructed. The loneliness he hides behind every joke, every flirtatious smile.

But he can’t tell you the truth. Not when your words have the power to break him, to shatter everything he’s built up around himself. He can’t show you how deeply he cares, how much he wants to reach out and make you see him for what he truly is—just a man who’s afraid of losing something he’s never had.

He laughs, a little too loud—a little too involuntary. “I’m just a little busy, that’s all. Life’s a bit chaotic, but I’m fine. Really.”

Even so, you still don’t look convinced. And for a split second, he wonders if you’ve figured it out. If you can see the way his heart aches every time he’s near you, how badly he wishes things were different. How badly he wishes he could be the one to make you smile, make you laugh, in a way that wasn’t tainted by his unspoken feelings.

However instead, you just smile softly, a quiet understanding in your eyes. For just a moment, he thinks maybe you’ve known this whole time. Of course, he’ll never make you aware of how much that question, those few words, broke him inside. Not now. Not ever.

He can feel the cold of your engagement ring pressed against the back of his palm, looking over at you with parted lips, raised brows. Your expression is soft—too inviting. He almost can’t take it anymore. 

Your entire being brings him in, wrapping around his soul like a warm blanket on a cold night. Your eyes can hold a thousand different meanings, but so can your touch. The world blurs into a fade when it’s just you and him, like it always does. He can see the fireworks, feel the softness of your skin against his. 

He wants you so much. 

It’s a quiet ache, a longing that starts in the pit of his stomach and spreads like wildfire, burning him from the inside out. He’s so close to you now, the air between you two charged, heavy with unsaid words and unspoken desires.

Your breath catches as you watch him, and it only makes things worse. It’s as if you’re reading him, sensing the intensity of the pull that draws him to you, even though you shouldn’t. Even though you’re promised to someone else. But for a moment, it’s just the two of you in this space, and everything else ceases to exist.

His heart races as he subconsciously leans in, just a fraction of an inch. Like a man on the edge of something dangerous, something he knows he shouldn’t want, but does anyway. His fingers twitch against your wrist, the ring there a painful reminder of the distance between what is and what could never be.

You shift slightly, a small motion, but it’s enough to send a jolt through him. You’re so close now, your warmth seeping into him, your scent intoxicating. In a single brief and fleeting instant, he wonders if you feel the same pull, if you’re as caught in the web of longing as he is.

Just then, you blink; and the spell is broken. You pull back just enough. The correct amount of room to create a sliver of space, he feels his heart sink. “I…” Your voice is barely a whisper, as if you’re struggling with the weight of the moment too. But he knows what’s coming. You always have that hesitation, that gentle reluctance when it comes to him.

He swallows, the words caught in his throat, but the truth is too painful to speak. He can’t admit how much he wants you. He can’t admit that, despite the ring on your finger, despite everything that keeps you apart, he’s falling for you in ways that have nothing to do with logic and everything to do with his heart.

“I know,” he whispers finally, his voice low, barely audible, because it’s the only thing he can say without completely shattering the fragile barrier that keeps everything in check.

When deep down, in the part of him that refuses to let go, he wishes with everything he has that you could see him. That you could feel what he feels.

That you could love him, just once, the way he loves you.

He puts on his usual smile. He knows you see through it now, but there’s no point in hiding it. There’s no point in hiding anything anymore, is there? “I know,” he repeats. 

The words fall heavy between you, thick with unspoken truths, and yet, they feel like a fragile lie. He laughs again, but it’s different now. Not the carefree expression he usually wears, but one edged with something raw—something too real for either of you to ignore. He knows you see the cracks. He knows you feel the tension and the weight of everything he doesn’t say. It makes him ache in ways he can’t describe. You’ve always seen him, better than anyone else, better than he ever allowed anyone to. And even now, when the distance between you is palpable, when everything about this moment screams to turn away, neither of you can.

You’re still staring at him, your eyes warm but searching. You want more. You want to know what’s behind that smile, what’s behind the guarded words, the silence that screams louder than anything he’s ever said. You want to see through the layers, even when he’s terrified of what you might find.

Except that’s the truth of it, isn’t it? He’s terrified. Terrified of losing you, terrified of the vulnerability that comes with loving someone so completely. Terrified that you’ll slip away from him, like everyone else does.

“Satoru…” Your voice trembles slightly, hesitation lingering in the air like an uninvited guest. You want to say something, but you don’t know how. You want to reach for him, but you know the consequences. The space between you both feels endless, a chasm that neither of you can cross.

He really can’t keep pretending anymore.

His smile falters, his eyes dimming as he finally lets go of the pretense, removing the silence hanging in the air. He feels the weight of your gaze on him, steady and knowing, and something inside him breaks.

You know. You always knew.

“I don’t want to hide this anymore,” he admits quietly, his voice strained, his chest tight with the confession. It’s not a declaration of love, not yet. However, it’s the closest thing he can give you right now—the truth, raw and painful. He’s not sure what you’ll do with it, if it’ll push you further away or bring you closer, but the honesty feels both freeing and suffocating at the same time. He waits for your response, his heart hammering in his chest, terrified of the silence that follows. Because no matter what happens next, he knows that something between the two of you has irrevocably shifted. And there’s no going back.

When you look away from him, he gets his answer. With that, he laughs softly to himself in understanding. Not even needing to hear your soft words—whispered apologies. Because at the end of the day, he knew what would happen. 

He’s not mad at you for it, how could he be?

You’ve always been his anchor, even if you couldn’t see it. Even if he was just the one who stood in the background, quietly waiting, hoping for a moment like this. He knew that in the end, it would never be him, and somehow, he had accepted that. But it doesn’t make the ache any less painful, the hollow feeling in his chest where something once burned bright.

You’ve always belonged to someone else.

The way you look away, the way your fingers subtly twist the fabric of your shirt as if you’re gathering the courage to speak, tells him everything. You don’t need to apologize for anything. He knows. He always has.

But it doesn’t stop the weight from pressing down on him. It doesn’t stop the way his heart cracks, just a little bit more, with every moment that stretches between you both.

He should leave. Walk away before it hurts too much. Yet something keeps him there—something that’s always kept him tethered to you, even in your silence. Once more, he chuckles quietly. The sound is bitter in the back of his throat. He puts his smile back into place, masking the storm brewing inside. “It’s okay,” he says softly, almost as if he’s reassuring himself as much as you. “I get it.”

His voice is steady, but there’s a quiver that betrays him, a flicker of pain he can’t hide. You’ll never know just how much it stings. How it feels like something vital is slipping away, piece by piece. But he won’t show you that. Not now. Not when he knows you’re already carrying your own weight.

And so, he stays. Silent, distant, as you both continue to navigate the space between what you want and what you can’t have. No matter how much it hurts, he loves you. In the quietest, most agonizing way possible. And that’s enough for him, even if it will never be enough for you.

“Just…don’t leave me.” He mutters, almost like he doesn’t want to get the words out. He’s aware of the fact that he’s pushing more than he should—biting off more than he’s being given. 

You gulp, biting the inside of your cheek. A silent second passes before you nod. “I’d never let you go.”

When he’s walking back home that night, the air feels more suffocating than usual. His apartment—too big for one—is cold. Walking to his bedroom, not bothering to strip himself of his clothes as he plops down onto his bed. Staring up at the ceiling with a melancholic smile. Feeling a prickle of tears hit the corners of his eyes. They don’t fall—not yet. He swallows hard, but the lump in his throat won’t budge.

He should be happy, right? At least you didn’t leave him completely. Nonetheless, the promise in your words doesn’t feel like solace; it feels like a bandage over a wound that will never fully heal. He chortles, a hollow, bitter sound that fills the emptiness of the room.

That’s probably the nicest way he could’ve been let down. For some reason, it hurts more. 

Extremely more than he thought it would. Somewhere along the lines, he may have even somehow convinced himself that maybe—just maybe—things could be different. But of course, they weren’t. They never could be. The optimism in him is dying. 

The silence in his apartment is deafening, and in the quiet, his mind runs wild with every memory of you, every moment that he convinced himself meant more than it did. The way your voice eased when you spoke to him, the way your eyes lingered just a little too long. He had built up those fleeting moments into something real, something that could have existed in another life, in another world. However now, reality has slammed into him with brutal force, leaving him breathless and broken.

He curls his fingers into the sheets, his chest tightening. He wants to scream, but the words stick to the back of his throat. Instead, he lets out a long, shaky breath, the weight of everything settling deeper into his bones.

Tomorrow, he will smile again. Tomorrow, he will pretend everything is okay. So tonight, in the darkness of his room, it can just be him and the stabbing pain of unrequited love.

It’s so difficult because it’s more than he can bear. Even dreaming is not an escape from you. 

He lies there for what feels like hours, staring at the ceiling, the darkness of the room closing in around him. His thoughts are a whirlwind—too much, too fast, all at once. He feels like he’s drowning in them, unable to pull himself out. He shifts uncomfortably, pulling the covers tighter around his body, as if they could shield him from the cold ache in his chest. The memory of your words, of the softness in your voice, keeps echoing in his mind: “I’d never let you go.” You hadn’t meant it the way he wanted, the way he had hoped. You had meant it in the kindest way possible, but all it did was reinforce the distance between you two. You couldn’t love him. You couldn’t be with him—not the way he needed you to be.

He tries to push away the thought, but it lingers, gnawing at him. The weight of knowing that you would never truly leave him, that you’d always be there. Still, never in the way he wanted. It cuts so much deeper than he could have imagined. It’s like a constant reminder that some things just aren’t meant to be.

A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he runs a hand over his face, his fingers pressing against his eyes. He’s tired—so tired. Not physically, but emotionally. It’s exhausting, pretending. Entirely consuming it is to feel something that can never be returned the way it’s given.

He presses the back of his palm to his nose, inhaling the faint remnants of your scent. The tears finally fall, slow and quiet at first. Soon, they’re coming harder and faster. But he doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t want anyone to hear, not like anyone would. He doesn’t want it to be known the way his heart is shattering, piece by piece, while he lies alone in the shadows of his apartment.

For a moment, he wishes you could feel this—this ache, this longing that gnaws at him until there’s nothing left but the hollowed-out shell of someone who will never truly be enough. He wishes you could understand how it feels to love someone so deeply, to want them more than anything, and yet know that your love will never be enough.

He laughs again, a bitter, empty sound, this time not hiding it. It’s a dull laugh that tastes like defeat. He wipes at his eyes, sniffling quietly, the tears continuing to fall. Then, he forces himself to take a deep breath, to stop.

He can’t let himself drown in this. Not now.

But the truth is, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep pretending. The weight of everything—the smiles, the casual conversations, the “I’m fine” that he spits out like it’s nothing—feels too heavy now. He wonders how long you were able to tell. If you saw through the facade when you first met him, if you noticed the cracks starting to form around him immediately. Maybe he was the oblivious one. 

He tells himself over and over again: you have your own life, your own love, your own future.

He rolls onto his side, facing the wall, the emptiness of his solitude swallowing him whole. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself, I’ll wake up, and I’ll be fine. He’s done this before. Pretending, masking the pain, wearing the boyish smile he knows so well. It’s easier than facing the truth, than admitting how much it hurts.

For now, in the quiet of his apartment, the only thing he can do is let the tears fall, and let himself grieve for the love he’ll never have. 

However, one day…something changes in Satoru. He doesn’t even expect it. It’s subtle at first. A shift, almost imperceptible, like the first breeze of spring after a long, bitter winter. He’s standing at the edge of the room, watching as you and Suguru stand hand in hand at the altar, your eyes locked with his in a way that is nothing short of reverent. Your smile—so soft, so full of love—shines through the quiet moment as Suguru vows to stand by you, to love you through everything. Maybe it’s the way you seem so at peace with yourself while looking his best friend in the eyes at the altar, or the way you're radiantly glowing when you two have your first dance. Or the way you still regard him with the same tenderness you did from day one. 

The ache grows quieter. 

As you look at him, there’s a quiet contentment that blooms in Satoru’s chest. It’s not pain, not jealousy, not longing. Just peace. Something about seeing you so at ease, so sure of yourself, brings a strange sense of clarity to his heart.

He doesn’t know what it is—perhaps it’s the way you carry yourself now, with confidence, with the kind of joy that was never there before—but he feels something relieve within him. The old throbbing pain, the one that had been gnawing at him for so long, then pauses just a bit. It’s like the final breath of a storm passing, leaving behind only calm.

 Later that evening, as he watches the two of you share your first dance, something settles in his chest, something he can’t quite explain. You’re  glowing under the soft lights, and the way Suguru holds you so gently, his fingers pressing into the small of your back, is enough to make Satoru’s throat tighten. There’s no regret, no bitterness. Just a quiet acceptance.

He knows, deep down, that this is your moment. And he’s finally okay with that.

Satoru’s gaze drifts to you as you laugh, your head tilting back slightly as Suguru twirls you in his arms. Your eyes meet his, just for a second, and he sees it—the same look you’ve always had for him. His eyes don’t move from you one bit throughout the night, feeling something drift into the air. His shoulders feel lighter. Now, it’s just… comfort. A quiet, steady beat that comes from knowing he’s been a part of something meaningful in your life, even if it wasn’t meant to be forever.

He smiles to himself, the ghost of his old longing fading into the background. For the first time in a long time, Satoru feels like he’s no longer holding onto something that’s slipping through his fingers. The pieces have finally clicked into place. So, in that moment, he realizes something he hadn’t anticipated. 

He’s free.

As the night winds down, and the last few guests start to trickle out, Satoru stays behind, quietly watching the empty dance floor. The lights are dimmed, the music faded, but the feeling of the day still lingers in the air. He knows that things have changed for him—deeply, irrevocably.

It’s not that he’s given up on love. Not at all. But something in him has shifted. It could be that his understanding is that love isn’t always about holding onto someone forever. Sometimes, it’s about letting them go—allowing them to find their happiness in their own way, even if it’s not with you.

You and Suguru have your own story now, and Satoru is finally okay with that. In fact, he’s grateful for it. Because without your happiness, without you finding peace with him, he never would have found peace with himself. 

He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of it all—of everything that’s passed, of everything that’s been said and unsaid—and it’s fine. It’s more than fine. He’s not angry. He’s not resentful. He’s content.

And that’s enough.

The days that follow are gentle. There’s no rush or no pressure. Satoru slowly moves forward with his life, embracing the little things—his work, his friendships, his quiet moments. There’s a stillness in him that wasn’t there before. The pain that had consumed him for so long doesn’t disappear completely, but it becomes more manageable. More bearable.

Of course, maybe one day, in another place, with another person, there will be a love that’s his to hold onto. But for now, he’s happy with this. He’s happy with letting go—with moving forward. Because in the end, he’s learned that love doesn’t always look the way you expect. It isn’t always a fairy tale. Sometimes, it’s just a silent acceptance, a letting go, and knowing that everything will be okay in the end.

For the first time in a long time, Satoru believes that.

Finally, he just sees you. Someone’s wife.

Satoru stands there for a moment, taking in the sight of you. The woman he once loved, now married to someone else. The years have passed, but you’re still the same in the most beautiful ways. Your smile is just as bright, and the warmth in your eyes is still the same, no matter how much time has passed.

“How are you?” he asks, his voice soft, a little hesitant. It’s been a few years since he last saw you at your wedding to Suguru. He assumed, with time, that he would somehow grow less attracted to you. Less drawn to your presence, your laughter, and the way you seem to light up the world just by being in it.

 How wrong he was.

You meet his gaze, and Satoru feels that familiar flutter in his chest, something he thought had long since faded. You haven’t changed. He’s never been able to forget the way you made him feel. The truth is, he probably never will. “I’m great,” you reply wholeheartedly, your smile so genuine it catches him off guard. The apples of your cheeks rise, and he can’t help but notice how much more beautiful you’ve become. There’s a glow about you, one that comes from happiness and contentment. The familiar glint in your eyes beams brighter than he’s ever seen before. It’s the same one that once made him think maybe he could be the one to make you smile like that forever.

 Prettier than any star.  

“Things have been well,” you continue, a slight tilt of your head as you study him. “How are you?”

Satoru swallows, his heart hammering in his chest, but he smiles. He’s not sure why it still affects him this way. Maybe it’s because he knows you’re happy, and that should be enough for him. But hearing you speak with that warmth, that sweetness, it still stirs something deep within him. “I’m good,” he says, his voice steady despite the chaos of emotions swirling inside him. He wants to tell you everything he wasn’t able to before—how much he’s missed you, how much he’s struggled to let go, how he’s still a little haunted by your absence. But he can’t. You’re someone else’s now. His best friend’s. And he can’t take that from you. He doesn’t want to, either. 

“Life’s… busy,” he adds, trying to change the subject, but he knows the words are empty. He’s never been able to lie to you. You always see through it.

You nod, as if understanding more than he’s said. The silence between you stretches, but it’s not awkward. It’s familiar in a way that brings him a strange sense of comfort. You’ve both come so far, yet here you are, still standing before him.

Satoru wants to say something—anything—that will make this moment last. Yet, he knows better now. He knows that some things are meant to pass, to be remembered only as bittersweet memories. “I’m happy for you,” he finally says, his voice quieter than before. His eyes meet yours, searching for any sign that maybe, just maybe, you might feel something too.

And there it is. A flicker. A brief, imperceptible flicker in your eyes. You’re still the same woman he once knew, the one who captured his heart and never quite let it go.

He doesn’t need to hear you say it. He can see it in the way you look at him. You’ve both changed, in ways that neither of you could have predicted. Really, that’s okay. You’re happy, and that’s all that matters.

“I’m glad to see you doing well, Satoru,” you say with that same warm smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?” The weight of the unspoken words lingers between you, yet it’s not painful. Not anymore. Satoru nods, his own smile genuine, even if it’s laced with sadness. He doesn’t need to hold onto the past anymore. You’ve found your place in the world, and he’s finally at peace with that.

“I will,” he says quietly. “You too.”

Staying in your presence feels nice, no words having to be spoken when your actions do it all. Fleeting looks, warm smiles, hushed chuckles. He can’t stop his body from reciprocating. Every time your fingers brush against his by accident, a jolt of electricity runs through him. When your voice dances in the air, light and carefree, it takes every ounce of control he has not to reach out and pull you closer into a hug. Your presence is a kind of calm he didn’t know he needed, a peace he’s been missing, even after all these years.

He’s missed you. That’s okay to admit, right?

“Are you with someone now, Satoru?” You ask, sipping your coffee with an innocent eyebrow raise. 

He shakes you off with a chuckle. “Nah, no one. I’m a lone wolf, remember?”

Playfully, you roll your eyes. “Right. Well, every lone wolf needs his mate, doesn’t he?”

“Please don’t use ABO logic on me.”

You kick his shin under the table and he dramatically responds with a frown. Looking at him from the large window that displays the warm morning of Saturday. Speaking with such integrity that it’s hard not to believe you. “I’m serious, Satoru. When it happens, I want to be there for you. Your soulmate is just walking around everyday life waiting for you, I look forward to you finally getting to experience that.”

His heart melts, smirk softening into genuineness. He can’t find it in him to say how wrong you probably are, to crush your dreams of him finding his one true love one day. How could he? You just want what’s best for him, and that’s why he loves you so much. 

“Soulmate…” he repeats to himself lowly, watching you laugh gingerly before looking back out at the window. His eyes glance down at his left pinky finger, flexing it. 

Red string of fate. 

He can imagine the circle around his pinky, red and bright with intensity; glowing like a beacon of everything he’s always wanted and dreamed for. He looks back up at you, your side profile so perfectly structured in the warm light. The way your features align effortlessly like they were meant to be there. He can’t help the crinkle of his eyes when his smile grows wider and more genuine. The time he spent longing for you, it all seems to fade away when he looks at you like this. He lightly jerks his hand.  

And for a brief, suspended moment, he catches the sight of your left pinky twitching, being tugged just barely in his direction before you adjust your grip on your coffee. 

He follows your gaze, hiding a snicker behind the rim of his cup. 

Yeah, she is just walking around, isn’t she?

a/n: hiiiii! i really hoped you guys enjoyed this, while writing this i didn't feel very confident and I still sort of don't, but I really hope it satisfies u all <3 as I said b4 thank you so much for 1k followers, I didn't expect this to happen lollolol but your support has been so appreciated. with this new year, I hope to put out more works, and I hope u all stay along for the ride. have a great day!!!! love and kisses

[doeidawn]

doeidawn's kinkmas day five ❆ stockings

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

every holiday you surprise graves with an early christmas present. he's a big fan of gifts like this—something he can take off of you. 2.2k

❆ pairing: graves x gn!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; reader wears lingerie and is referred to as "pretty", but there are no descriptors of body type/genitals; graves is an impatient bastard; spanking; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); creampie

Graves was the type of man that was damn near impossible to get gifts for. What do you give a man that had enough money to do whatever the hell he wanted? Especially one with the funding and pardoning of the military behind him?

The answer: something he couldn’t get anywhere else. Which just so happened to be you. It became somewhat of a tradition for holidays and birthdays; surprise him with something new to take off or put on your body and call it his present. It wasn’t a bad idea if he enjoyed it.

And, boy, did he enjoy it.

This holiday season, his present would include you in a brand new set of festive lingerie. Thin red fabric that covered only the most important parts, lined with faux white fur and decorated with straps that hugged your frame. Red stockings covered your legs and sat perfectly around the plush of your thigh. It suited you well, needless to say.

And Graves was fully prepared to say it as many times as he could.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he mutters to himself, spreading his legs as if inviting you to crawl onto his lap.

You barely took the robe off to show him the lingerie before he was whistling and motioning you closer. And now that you’d shown him the main attraction, he was more than eager to get his hands on you. And he was not a very patient man, but you figured you could make him one.

So, you step forward, but tantalizingly slow. Your nylon-covered feet barely make a sound on the hardwood floor of your bedroom. He couldn’t decide what part of you to stare at as you moved closer. The want in his eyes is almost palpable, hungry and intense as it rakes over every inch of your body.

“C’mon, baby, don’t keep me waiting.” The drawl in his voice is almost enough to convince you.

“Have a little patience,” you chide him playfully. There’s a flash of annoyance in his eyes, one with no real bitterness behind it, that motivates you to step quicker.

“Oh, you know I’m not a patient man,” his hand lands on your hip as soon as you’re between his legs. “I see somethin’ I like and I want it.” The tilt of his head and the graze of his heavy eyes made that much clearer.

Never one to give you the chance to rebut, he pulls you down into his lap before you can chastise him about patience again. Calloused palms run up and down your body, tracing the seam of your lingerie like a guide. Savoring the soft white lining and pressing against the plush fat that spills over the tight straps. 

It almost seems like he might go easy on you, taking his time to feel your body and commit the sight of the red lace to memory. But then his soft touch turns needier, greedy hands groping your ass before guiding your hips to grind against him. 

“Goddamn. You look even better up close.” Fingertips dig so firm into the skin on your hips you think he might leave bruises. "Looks real pretty on you, baby." He leans in to plant a kiss in the center of your chest. "Can't wait to rip it off ya."

You shake your head, humming disapprovingly, pushing back on his shoulders to make him look up at you. "No. No ripping anything." You grant him a quick roll of your hips that drags across his lap. “I like this set, I don’t want it ruined.” You lean in, brushing your lips over the line of his jaw with fleeting kisses. “Savor it. Just a little. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

He relents with a sigh. But even though you seemed to convince him to spare the lace on your body, that didn’t mean he was going to be soft. Graves was a greedy man, and it showed when he got his hands on you. 

Strong hands hold your hips tight, pushing back and forth to grind you against the firmness growing harder in his lap. He’d lean in again and latch onto your neck with wet kisses and sharp bites. Littering your skin in red marks that would surely bruise come morning because he always has to leave you marked up. 

A soft mutter about how good you look and his hands are moving back to your ass to grope the plush fat there. “So damn pretty. ‘N all mine, ain’tcha?” One of his hands finds yours, calloused fingers wrapping around your wrist and guiding it down to his lap. “You feel that? You feel what you do to me, baby?”

It’d be impossible not to. His cock was pressed firm against his pants, the thick outline plainly obvious. You were generous enough to fumble with the fastenings and let his cock sit heavy in your hand. A quick spit in your hand and you start to stroke him in hopes it’ll help relieve some of that pent-up energy he always seemed to have. 

A sharp hiss that falters into a groan comes from his mouth, his breath hot against your skin. His encouragement comes in the form of more love bites across your neck and his hands roaming every inch of your body. He pushes his hips into your hand, chasing the slickness of your wet palm. A particularly rough bite on your collarbone makes you whine and you feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin. 

“Fuck, I’m damn near ready to tear these off.” His fingers curl around the waist band of your panties, tugging just enough to prove his point. “They’re nice, but I need to fuck you.”

You crawl off of him just before he can prove how serious he is. It might’ve been a purchase made with his money, but that didn’t mean you wanted it ruined. Propping yourself up beside him, back arched and ass in the air, you put yourself on display like a pristinely-wrapped present. Maybe if you kept showing off how good the lingerie looked on you, he’d forget all about tearing it off. 

The way he groans when you pull your panties to the side makes you think he still might. He shifts behind you, palms splaying over your ass and pulling you back against his body. His fingers trail between your legs, teasing over your sensitive flesh just to see you jerk.

“Good Lord, look at you…” His hand comes down on your ass in a sharp spank that makes you tense underneath him. His rough touch trails over your skin until his fingers brush over your hole, teasing you with gentle presses that barely prod inside. “Nice n’ ready for me, too.”

You’re thankful you had the foresight to prep yourself beforehand; something told you that he’d be too impatient to take the time himself. Not that he didn’t care enough to, but when Graves got worked up like this it could be hard to slow him down.

At least he granted you the slickness of his spit, rubbing it along the length of his cock before tapping it against your hole. You feel yourself clench around nothing, arching your back to feel the head catch on your entrance. 

"There you go, arch that back for me, baby..." He coaxes, a hand on your waist just to feel the curve of your body. He notches the head of his cock against you, pushing in slowly and watching with rapt attention as each inch disappears inside you. “Fuuuck, that’s it…”

Something between a moan and a whine comes from your throat in response. His cock stretches you out, spearing through your depths until he’s buried to the hilt. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust to the fullness before rocking his hips. Pull back only to push in so deep it takes your breath away, filling you completely with every inch of his cock. 

His hands run over your body like he can’t decide where to hold onto you. Up your back, down your sides, then over your hips and back to your waist. Tracing the hem of your lingerie with his fingertips and feeling the lace sit against your skin. 

“You look so good like this…bent over n’ full of me,” the drawl in his voice seemed to grow thicker with every snap of his hips. “All wrapped up in this pretty lace for me—shit…” His fingers hook into the straps hugging your hips, curling around the fabric for leverage as he pulls you back onto his cock.

A moan is forced from your lips every time he sinks back into you. The slap of his hips against your ass is loud and crude, bouncing your body off of him just so he could pull you right back onto his cock. You grip the sheets beneath you tight enough to turn your knuckles white. 

A particularly rough snap of his hips forces his cock to hit that spot inside that makes you keen. “Fuck, right there…” You encourage him with a whine.

“Yeah, right there?” He tilts his hips, readjusting just right, until his cock is hammering that soft spot inside. Underneath your own moans, you can hear him curse as you tighten around him. “Fuck, that’s the spot, ain’t it?”

You look back at him from over your shoulder and the sight that greets you sends warmth straight to your core. You watch his hips rock, pounding against your body hard enough to make you jolt. He looks down at you with such focus, something tense and determined, raking over your body with each movement. 

You barely manage to find your breath long enough to speak. “H-harder…”

“You want it harder?” His gruff voice spits as his movements start to slow. Pretending like he can’t listen and fuck you at the same time, he leans over you as he stills. “Want me to make you cum?”

Graves—ever a man of his ego—would never give it to you that easily. You should've known that. “Yes,” you sigh with a tinge of your own impatience. “Please. Please make me cum.”

A deep rumble of a laugh comes from his throat. “There you go,” he growls mockingly. His hand comes down on your ass unexpectedly, the spank sending heat over your skin. “Love it when you ask me all sweetly.”

To your relief, that seemed to be all it took to make him comply. His thrusts start up again, much harsher this time as he drives into the spot deep inside you. Maybe it was the lingerie making him so kind; you knew he wasn’t beyond making you beg when he wanted to see you desperate.

But judging by the depraved sounds falling from his mouth, you were under the assumption he might’ve been desperate himself. Dirty drawls of praise while he ran his hands over your body, tugging at the lace wrapped around your skin. His cock hit so deep and stretched you out as he fucked you rough. It was hard to think straight, hard to breathe with each thrust hollowing you out and filling you up.

You could barely process the tingle at the base of your spine. Your orgasm creeped up fast, overwhelming your senses. “M’gonna cum, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum…don’t stop, don’t stop…” You’re a babbling mess, all but drooling as he prods relentlessly at your core. 

“Yeah, that’s it, cum for me, baby,” you hear him groan. The flutter of your hole draws a filthy moan from his lips that tells you he’s not far behind.

Your orgasm hits you hard, washing over your body until you go taut. Squeezing him tight as you cum, your hips twitch and your legs shake with the sheer force. He does ease up, either; he bullies that sweet spot until you’re practically whimpering underneath him, drawing out your orgasm for everything you’ve got. 

Blunt nails dig into your hips as he holds you tight and chases his own high. You’re damn near afraid he’s gonna tear the lace with the force he uses to keep you in place. A rough sound from his throat and suddenly he goes still. You feel his cock jump inside you, twitching with every spurt of cum shot into your depths.

As he catches his breath, you feel Graves slowly run his hands over you again. Sliding over your waist, over the straps holding your lingerie in place. He moves back down to your ass, groping you gently before hooking his fingers into your panties. “Y’know what, I think you were right,” he sighs and gives the fabric a sharp tug that snaps it against your flushed skin. “This does look better on ya instead of all ruined n’ torn up.”

Slowly, he pulls his hips back and slides his cock out of you. The emptiness nearly makes you whine, your hole clenching pitifully around nothing. Then, you feel him lean over your weakened form to place a soft kiss between your shoulderblades. 

“Thank you for the pretty gift, baby.” Another soft kiss as his fingers find your stretched hole. “I’ll be sure to use it every day.”

[penkura]

last forever [7/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I apologize for glossing over and skipping fights and so much of this arc. Writing violence is not my forte, and I'd rather focus on the main relationship. We all know how One Piece goes anyway. I had to go back and refresh myself on some of the details, it's been a while since I read/watched Water Seven and Enies Lobby.

But also, I was SO NERVOUS writing a certain part of this, its NOT my usual style omg. But I needed to write what I did when it popped into my head. Just wait until a bit later, though omg. This stays SFW, I swear.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

When you finally make it to Water Seven, after your run in with the Foxy Pirates and Admiral Aokiji, it’s nice to be somewhere you recognize. Having only been here a few times when your dad had business and he chose to bring you and Elias, it was always your favorite trip to take when your mother would let you tag along.

The only person who knows this at first, apart from Zoro, is Sanji, when you choose to go into the city with him as Zoro watches the ship; Luffy, Nami, and Usopp go to exchange the gold for actually money, and Chopper goes with Robin to find a bookstore. Sanji laughs a bit when you tell him you’ve been here a few times, give or take.

“You may have been a bit sheltered, but you were well traveled!”

Laughing in return, you tighten your arms around Sanji, laying your head on his back as your Yagara ride continues down the water street, watching all the people. It’s been so long, you forgot how lively this city was.

“Mom would always try to make me stay home with her, but I’d cry and throw a tantrum until she let me go, normally because my brother asked for me to. I was a little spoiled back then by Elias.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Sanji looks over his shoulder to give you a smile, “You were the baby, that’s expected.”

“Tch, yeah,” scoffing, you don’t look up at him, “The baby no one but my brother really wanted.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead just patting one of your hands, which makes you fist his shirt in your grip for a moment before relaxing again. Sanji knows more about your life growing up than most of your crew, only Zoro really having the nearly full story. Even then, you’ve kept somethings to yourself, not because they were painful memories, but because they were some of the few good times you remember, they were more precious to you than any other memories.

The two of you quickly find the shopping district and purchase copious amount of local foods, Sanji reeling off different ideas for dishes as he catches sight of Robin, grabbing your hand to drag you along and around a corner he swears to you he saw her go down, but she’s nowhere to be seen and neither is Chopper.

Your doctor does find you both a few moments later, apologizing on your way back to Merry for losing Robin, but you tell him not to worry, she can take care of herself, she’ll come back later.

When you get back to Merry, the update Zoro gives you feels like a knife in all your hearts. 

“What do you mean Merry is unfixable?!”

“Just what I said,” Zoro doesn’t fully look at Sanji, instead making sure you’re all right with the news, though the frown and starting of tears tell him you aren’t, “A shipwright came to check and said so.”

You hate the idea of having to give up Merry, whether that’s what Luffy’s decided yet or not, you aren’t sure, even as Nami returns and the situation gets worse with Usopp having been beaten by the Franky family and the two hundred million beri being stolen from him. The money didn’t matter, what mattered was Usopp, the rest of your crew going to find him and Luffy but Nami clinging onto you to stay with her, which you do to keep your friend safe.

The rest of the day is a blur, after Usopp is brought back, his fight with Luffy over Merry, and how quickly the rest of you leave to a hotel in the city. Some would probably think it’s strange that you’re holding so tightly to Zoro the whole time, rarely letting go of his arm, but you feel like you need some stability with how things have changed so much in just a day. You all still don’t know where Robin’s gone, you plan to go with Sanji and Chopper later the next day to try and find her.

For now, Zoro doesn’t mind you holding onto and staying by him. He tries to understand, it’s likely you’re thinking back to your parents, having told him of how they’d argue regarding you mostly, Elias being your safe haven who would remove you from the situation for safety.

Part of you doesn’t want to sleep that night, but Zoro makes you, forcing you to lay down. Really you’re worried you’re going to wake up and everything’s been a dream, none of your friends will be there, but Zoro, who you fully are coming to believe can read your mind, pokes you in the forehead before sitting by your bed with his back to you.

“Just sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Every part of you believes him, you’ve got nothing but trust in Zoro.

+!+

With everything that’s happened involving Robin, your crew, Galley-La, and the Franky family, you’re surprised you’re even still on your feet as you follow everyone into Enies Lobby. You’d barely slept the night before and have been awake since early the previous morning, ending up following Sanji to the sea train that was taking Robin from you all. You fight alongside him, Franky, and Usopp, er, Sniper King, to try and reach Robin, only to lose her again in exchange for your own lives.

After the Rocketman train catches up to you and the four of you board it, Nami throws a towel over you since you’re sopping wet from the rain, and you start to draw yourself back from everyone for a few moments. You just need a bit to catch your breath, to keep yourself from crying due to how tired and upset you are. It’s going to be another sleepless night as you listen to everyone try and plan how you’re all going to attack the government island, you want to rescue Robin as soon as possible, even for the selfish reason of being able to sleep properly. Zoro tries to keep you out of the plan discussion, making you sit down and rest as much as you can, giving you water and sending you the slightest of glares if you try to get up too soon.

“Stay there, wife,” he’s quiet while he tells you to stay where you are, trying to keep his slip up of calling you his wife from those who don’t and shouldn’t know, “Rest until we get there. We’ll get Robin back.”

A slight smirk hits your face as you look up at him. “Trust her now?”

Zoro shrugs a bit, leaning on the wall beside you. “I guess. I trust you and Luffy more. But if you don’t rest, it doesn’t matter who I trust.”

Ah, that makes sense, why he’s trying so hard to make you take a break, other than you’re being up for so long now.

You’ll be useless in the fighting if you aren’t as prepared as you can be, if you haven’t had any kind of rest and keep worrying over Robin and everyone else. Even when you get there, convince Robin to let you all rescue her, most of your body wants to give up and stop, but you keep going, keep running to save her with everyone else.

You don’t really mean to get separated from everyone when you go to find the CP9 members who have keys that could open Robin’s sea prism stone cuffs, but it happens and you’re left defending yourself.

A few Marines get a little too close for comfort, but you cut them down fairly quickly, before going the other way from where you came and laughing to yourself at the same time.

I’m starting to take after my husband after all.

+!+

You’ve all returned to Water Seven after rescuing Robin from the government, you’ve maybe given her numerous hugs since even though its only been a couple of hours, and your unfortunate burial of Merry that’d left most of you in tears but all of you heartbroken. So much had happened that you had to step away from everyone for a bit, while there were discussions of what to do next although Luffy had once again fallen asleep from overuse of his powers.

Truthfully you wish you could go to sleep, you’ve been awake for well over twenty-four hours at this point, it would be nice to curl up in a bed and sleep the next several days. Its times like this that make you really wonder if you’re meant to be a pirate, maybe you should just go home and do what your parents want.

“Hey, you okay?”

Then Zoro finds you like always, quietly speaking to keep the others from eavesdropping, though Nami tries, a hand on your shoulder, this time he seems to grip a little tighter than before. You know him well enough at this point, there’s just the slightest hint of worry on his face as he looks at you, brows furrowed just a bit. Zoro knows you just as well, you step away like this when things start to get to be too much, you just need a few moments to clear your head and breathe, and since you’ve had that, you give him a real smile.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you really?”

You nod, Zoro doing the same in return as he knows to believe you, before surprising you by gently taking you face in his hands, as if he’s making absolutely sure that you’re telling the truth.

Having lost track of you while he’d gone on to fight the CP9 members to get Robin’s key, his mind kept wandering to where you’d gotten off to, if you were safe, if you were fighting someone or multiple marines, he really hoped you weren’t against a CP9 member. You had to stay safe, no matter what, you and Robin were his biggest concerns at the time. When you randomly ran into him, Sanji, and Usopp, he was surprised by the relief he felt to see you were a little banged up but otherwise perfectly fine. He’d made you let him carry you on his back the rest of the way, until you got to the ship and were able to safely be on the ground again. He’d barely let you out of his sight since then.

Zoro doesn’t make whatever worry he had about you obvious, only looking like he’s fighting to find something to say while he holds your face and you continue to smile, tilting your head.

“Zoro?”

“Glad you’re okay.”

Giggling a bit, you nod before wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, your exhaustion and the fears and worries you’ve had the last few hours finally coming to surface while you hug Zoro, making him do the same lightly, to keep you from embarrassing yourself in front of the others while you cry quietly, though you know they wouldn’t care or judge you.

You’re glad Robin is back, everyone is safe and alive, you all may have lost Merry but you’re coming to terms with it.

But most importantly to you, Zoro is safe, and to him, you’re safety is just as important, even if he barely voices it. The last thing he wants is for you to be harmed, in anyway by anyone.

He'll be especially damned if it’s by his hand so he comforts you the best he can, until you’re calmed down enough to rejoin your crew, staying beside him.

He doesn’t make you release his hand as you grip onto it, instead squeezing it back whenever you do so. When you lean into his arm later on, he lays his head against your own, telling you to go ahead and sleep, he’ll get you to a bed. You make him promise to stay with you that night, and he does once everyone goes to turn in, not leaving your side for even a second.

He’ll make sure you stay safe.

+!+

Zoro isn't sure how you two ended up away from the rest of the party. Too much alcohol, yes, but his tolerance is higher than a normal person's. He knows better than to wander off like this, but you took him by the wrist and walked away with a new bottle of sake in your hand, convincing him that it would be good to get away from the noise and everyone else.

You don't normally drink as much as he's seen you do today, he wonders if it's the alcohol that's causing you to giggle incessantly and steal glances at him every bit. Not like you had to steal glances, if you two had been talking you'd be looking at him.

But you'd barely said a word apart from when he asked why you were dragging him away from everyone else.

“Just want some quiet time, husband.”

Zoro never stops you from calling him husband, he's not sure why. Your marriage wasn't real, he should stop you from calling him that.

He should, but he never does.

He doesn't now, even as you lean against him and say “my husband” over and over again. It's only the moment you crawl yourself into his lap that he feels the need to stop you, despite knowing you're drunk or at the very least tipsy enough to not know what you're doing.

“Get off.”

He still doesn't push you off, he's not that heartless.

“Nooooo…” You whine and start to nuzzle your face in his neck, sighing happily after a moment. “My husband~”

“Ain't actually your husband, you know that.”

“But you're my husband still.”

“Stop it before someone sees.”

You pout, but lift your head up to look at him. Zoro can tell more so now that you're definitely drunk, you're more emotional than he thought you'd be. He always expected you to be a giggly or chatty drunk, not emotional to the point you're pouting but also looking like you might cry.

“You should...kiss me.”

“What.”

You nod, leaning closer and touching your nose to Zoro's, making him glance away from you just the slightest bit from the proximity despite the bit of pink across his cheeks that you can see. This is the closest you've let yourself get to him ever, even the nights you sneak into his bed from nightmares, you've never placed your face so close to his.

“You didn't kiss me…when we got married.”

“We're not actu–”

“I'll kiss you then.”

You close the gap for the quickest of seconds, kissing Zoro so fast it's like it didn't happen. Despite your drunk state your face burns with a blush and you apologize, you're not sure why you did that. Must've been the alcohol controlling you or something, that's your excuse. You're both quiet but neither of you moves for a moment, before you decide to get up only to have Zoro hold you in place by your shoulders. His brows are furrowed and you're not sure what's going on in his mind, before he pulls you back into a proper kiss, none of this tiny peck of the lips thing you'd just done. He kisses you fully and for more than a brief second, it's several seconds before he pulls away, leaving you both breathless and you personally shocked.

Shocked for just a moment before you take his face in your hands and kiss Zoro a third time, which he returns, surprising you when he wraps his arms around your waist and brings you closer to him (how you could even get closer when you’re already on his lap, you don’t know). You refuse to let him be the one to end this. You don't want this to end, it needs to continue, even if just for you. Even if all it does is make your feelings for him stronger, even if Zoro later tells you it was a mistake and he still held no romantic feelings for you, despite that fact he's so willingly returning such affection.

Even though, a moment later, Zoro pushes you away gently by your shoulders, neither of you able to breathe properly for a moment, catching your breath as your slowly sobering mind tries to play catch up with what the hell just happened.

You kissed Zoro, and he actually kissed you back. He didn't shove you off or yell at you or anything like that. He accepted it and reciprocated without a single word. You figured he would fight you about this, that he wouldn't accept it so easily.

Is this the progress you've been hoping for?

Once you've both caught your breath, Zoro doesn't even look at you, instead moves just enough that you get the hint and get off his lap finally. It's a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you, that has you confused. You thought things were changing, that you two were getting closer than you had been even before Luffy brought you along.

The fact he'd just kissed you back for several minutes it felt like, you thought maybe Zoro was going to confess to you, but when he still doesn't look at you, you attempt to bring him back by taking his hand, which he lets you for a moment before gently pulling his arm back to himself.

“Zoro…I…I'm sor–”

“I think…you should go to bed, [Y/N].”

“Do you,” you gulp a bit, looking away before you finish, “do you want to come with me?”

“No. That's not a good idea.”

You know this, who knows what trouble you'd bring to yourselves or the crew if you two went to your room together? Whose heart would be broken the next morning if you took things too far when you weren't fully sober? You didn't know, the thought of either of you being hurt made your heart ache and you couldn't bear the thought.

So, instead of trying to convince him things would be fine, you really just wanted to sleep with him next to you, you nod, standing up and dusting yourself off, grabbing the bottle you'd brought with you and looking at Zoro again.

“Are you–”

“Gonna stay here for a bit.”

It's all you can do to nod again, apologizing for pushing things too far before you turn and leave, doing your absolute best to keep your tears to yourself as you return to the party, giving Nami a small smile when she asks where you've been, promising her you'd just gone off to spend some time alone.

She doesn't believe you and intends to get all the information she can later, but she does give you a hug that nearly pushes you over, and says she'll beat up whoever made you sad, especially if it's Zoro, earning her a laugh before you return to your room at the hotel.

I wish he had come with me…

Truthfully you don't regret kissing Zoro, not even a bit. Despite his rejection of your feelings, the fact he so willingly kissed you back made you believe that maybe things were changing in your favor.

Perhaps it was because he was drunk, or maybe he was sober enough that he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when he denied returning to your room with you.

Either way, even with your heart aching from another rejection, it feels like you're making progress with Zoro and your relationship with him, little by little.

For his part of it all, Zoro stays in the same place you'd left him for nearly an hour, trying to calm his own racing heart after that exchange with you.

How he never thought of kissing you before, but now he didn't want to do anything but kiss you (it's the alcohol talking, he swears it is). You tasted like the sake you'd shared and whatever sweet wine Nami had convinced you to take several drinks of. A combination he never expected to be so nice, something he didn't think he'd want to taste again. The moment he thinks about it again his heart skips a beat, and Zoro puts head in his hands in an attempt to stop such feelings.

No, no, shit I gotta stop this.

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, pulling it slightly to get those thoughts out of his head. Any focus on romance, on you he wanted out of his head. There's been too much of it lately, the want to stay close to you, to pull you away from everyone else, to give in and indulge himself in you alone. He'd told you nothing was going to happen and he had meant it.

But then you had to go and kiss him. The most innocent of kisses, a quick peck on the lips but he'd gone and pulled you back for more almost instantly. Then you made it worse by returning it again and holding his face this time, he didn't know why he enjoyed that so much. This whole thing was ridiculous, there's no reason for these feelings!

The only thing he could do to get some time to think was to push you away, refuse to join you when you went to bed. Who knows what would've happened if he had gone with you? Of course, he knew your thoughts were innocent, you'd shared a bed multiple times when you turned to him after nightmares, it was highly unlikely you were expecting anything more than to just go to sleep and wake up with a hangover, Zoro by your side in case of alcohol induced nightmares.

And he had made you go to bed alone.

That realization, for some reason, causes his heart to ache and Zoro has to finally admit what he's been trying not to, over the last several months, even with the more domestic thoughts he's allowed himself to entertain at times. Something he was hoping would fade away, would disappear over time like it always did for others, the feelings he's finally realized were going to be more long term than he expected.

Damn it all…I'm falling for my wife.

+!+

Contrary to what many may think, Sanji doesn’t particularly like being privy to romance gossip, not the kind involving his crewmates especially. He thinks that such things should be kept between a couple, so when he accidentally hears you telling Nami and Robin how you and Zoro finally kissed the other night, he’s less than pleased to hear it ended with your swordsman pushing you back, not taking you back to your room, or even staying with you for the night.

How unbelievably rude of him! To steal your first kiss, and not even walk you back to your room!

That’s what Sanji would’ve done. If any woman kissed him, he’d walk her back to her room or home, at the very least, to ensure she was safe and nothing happened. Zoro not doing that, when you were inebriated, when you could’ve been hurt or worse, it angers Sanji more than anything Zoro has or hasn’t done thus far. He views you as his best friend, he hates the way you and Zoro seem to get closer to a real relationship, only for something to happen or someone to intervene and ruin your progress. He’s been cheering for you from the start, ever since you confirmed your feelings for the swordsman, only to now wonder if it’s worth it for you.

If Zoro really is what you want and makes you happy, why does it seem like all you do lately is suffer?

Sanji doesn’t fully mean to give Zoro the cold shoulder this time, or even the suspicious looks he throws at him, but Zoro noticed quickly, before anyone else, and confronts him.

“What the hell is your problem, cook?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, you’ve been giving me worse looks than normal.”

Sanji bites down on his cigarette, finally dropping the knife he’d been holding to face Zoro with a scowl.

“I heard you and [Y/N] kissed the other night—”

“Damn it.”

“—and you didn’t bother to take her back to her room?”

“What, is that my job now?”

“As her husband it should be!”

“I’m not really her husband! Damn it, this is stupid.”

Zoro goes to leave, but Sanji stops him by grabbing his sleeve, holding on and telling him to stop.

“Look, asshole. I could care less that you two are married, real or not, or that you kissed her,” Sanji grits his teeth, finally letting go of Zoro’s sleeve, “But if you break her heart, I’ll never forgive you, mosshead.”

While Sanji turns back to continue prepping for dinner, Zoro stops for just a moment. The two have had fights before, that’s obvious to anyone with a brain, but they’ve yet to fight about you. And he wonders why it's only now, after you kissed him, that Sanji seems so hell bent on protecting you, or maybe he's always been like this, it's just more on display as you and Zoro start to get closer.

“What’s your deal with her?”

“She’s my best friend, mosshead. I just want her safe and happy, even if it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, leaving the kitchen to find you lounging with Nami and Robin, the three of you in some conversation when you look up and see him, giving a slight smile that Zoro returns with a nod, before heading off to the crow’s nest. What Sanji last said is stuck in his head, partially wondering if you told your cook what happened that night in Water Seven or if he was good at guessing, but that’s not the biggest thing he wonders about.

Would you really be happy with me, of all people, [Y/N]?

+!+

“All right, wait, so, you honestly kissed him?”

“Nami don't make me repeat myself.”

Nami laughs while Robin smiles, both amazed you got up the courage to kiss Zoro of all people. Yeah, you were tipsy at the time, even though Zoro still believes you were fully intoxicated, but you couldn't help feeling bad about it afterwards, just for a bit.

“I didn't fully think it through. I just…I don't know, I wanted to kiss him so I did.”

“I don't think he's too upset about it then,” Robin nods a bit, taking a sip of her wine, “You said he kissed you back, if he didn't push you away right off the bat, it sounds like he was positively receptive to it.”

“Yeah,” Nami quickly agrees, giving you a grin, “Sounds like you're getting yourself a boyfriend.”

“I don't think he wants that.”

“Well, what do you want? Maybe you guys could talk it through.”

What did you want? You thought you knew, to be a world renowned swordswoman, to help Luffy become King of the Pirates.

But what did you want from Zoro? Just to be with him, to stay married to him? Do you want to maybe have a family of your own with him one day? You'd had those thoughts when your feelings first started surfacing, after your impromptu wedding at that backwater courthouse. You'd stopped entertaining  thoughts for quite a while, but now, they're coming back more often.

More importantly, does Zoro want any of that with you?

“I…think… I want to be with him forever…”

Hearing Nami choke on her own drink, you give her a concerned look before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“You sound like you're in love with Zoro!”

You don't say anything for a bit, even with Nami and Robin looking at you like they're expecting you to deny such a thing. There was no way you were in love with Zoro, not at all. You two hadn't dated, your marriage was only temporary, it was meant to end as soon as you had something from your parents. You two weren't going to last forever, you weren't going to have kids together, live out your lives as a married couple. It wasn't happening.

No matter how much you may want it to. That's what Nami and Robin have come to think over time, from the things you've said to them.

“I am, Nami.”

Despite Nami's new outburst and saying she knew it with Robin laughing, you don't feel any kind of worry or fear about admitting your real feelings for Zoro. Neither of them would tell, your secret was safe as could be.

But for you, all you do is smile to yourself.

You love Zoro, more than anything. You've thought so for a while now, but finally voicing it aloud gives you a sense of peace and happiness. Whether Zoro ever returns your feelings or not, whether you two come to act as a married couple or not, you're more than happy to even stay by his side as his crewmate and friend. Even if you have to love him silently, you'd do so.

You'll hope he comes to love you back one day, but you won't force anything on him.

“I'm in love with Zoro.”

~~

Note 2: Me writing this: now KISS.

After writing: omg they kissed

[cece693]

Bound By Appetite (SMUT)

pairing: hannibal lecter x male reader tags: hannibal cheats on alana, but is it really when they're just fuck buddies, male reader is alana's brother, will is just a victim, adult content, smut, blowjob

Hannibal Lecter knew how to mask his desires beneath a composed exterior, but a singular glance from you always threatened to fracture that control. It was something in the way you carried yourself—taller than your sister Alana, more assured, your demeanor tinged with just the right amount of mystery to intrigue him. He had slept with Alana because it offered him a respectable facade if the FBI ever got close enough to discover his more deviant acts, but when his eyes met yours during a visit you made to your sister, he was hooked. Your presence, your voice, your insight kindled in him what Alana never had nor could dare to. You were the one he truly wanted.

That much became undeniably clear the first time Hannibal had managed to seduce you. It wasn't in his nature to relinquish control, but when his back hit the mattress and your lips explored every inch of his skin, it ignited a new hunger in him, beyond even his taste for the forbidden. It took some convincing on his part to make you see that night as something other than a mistake, and more so to establish that connection he'd been gone without for decades. Hannibal would keep you locked in his basement if you dared to reject him, but it seemed you had felt similarly.

In the hush of his home, Hannibal’s outward civility peeled back to reveal an ardent, almost predatory fixation. He viewed your body as a rare delicacy, your mind as a labyrinth he longed to explore, and your presence as an irreplaceable treasure in his otherwise carefully curated life.

It was on one of these nights—after a sumptuous meal in Hannibal’s dining room—that the tenuous calm between you and him was disturbed. The main course had been “lamb,” though you suspected (as always) that the truth might be more monstrous. You decided not to ask. The taste was exquisite, your mood as buoyant as the rich red wine swirling in your glass.

Hannibal’s gaze remained locked upon you, dark eyes alight with a contained hunger. You had already promised you would stay the night. If there was any question left about your fidelity, his intent to keep you there until dawn was clear in every subtle shift of his posture.

But a shrill tone from your phone shattered the quiet. You winced, reaching into your jacket pocket and letting out a soft apology when you caught sight of the caller ID—Will Graham. In any other situation, you might have allowed the call to ring through to voicemail, but recent events complicated matters: you and Will had begun dancing around one another, testing the waters of a more traditional relationship. You had shared a few lingering kisses. Perhaps you were curious about what normalcy would feel like, away from Hannibal’s forbidding shadow.

Hannibal’s smile thinned. Though he set aside his utensils with a flourish of politeness, you knew he loathed this interruption. You offered Hannibal a guilty look as you answered. “Hey, Will,” you said, keeping your voice even.

Will’s tone was tentative, yet warm. “I finally got you. I was worried I caught you at a bad time.”

“No, I’m just…finishing dinner,” you replied carefully.

Across from you, Hannibal leaned back in his seat, posture so calm it seemed eerie. His eyes never left you. A spark of jealousy flickered behind those carefully constructed walls of composure. It simmered deeper when Will ventured to ask if you’d like to meet tomorrow morning for a coffee at his home. You swallowed, feeling heat crawl up your neck. Hannibal said nothing, but you could sense the tension creeping into every elegant line of his body. He despises anyone vying for your attention.

“Will, I’m…I’m kind of occupied right now,” you told him, your heart jumping when Hannibal rose smoothly, circling the table to stand behind your chair.

Will persisted. “Well, I really want to see you again." He sounded hopeful. "If you don't want coffee, perhaps just a simple breakfast—" Your breath caught as Hannibal’s fingertips settled on your shoulders. Then, with disconcerting grace, he nudged your chair back just enough to create space. The scrape of the chair legs against the floor made you tense. You knew precisely what he was planning—some not-so-subtle reminder that you belonged to him.

“Will, can we discuss this another time?” you managed, your voice faltering when Hannibal’s arms slid around your waist.

Will paused, clearly sensing your unease. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, your heart pounding. “Tomorrow, yeah?”

Hannibal bent closer, his breath ghosting across the back of your neck. He spoke so quietly only you could hear: “Don’t you think Will should know his place?”

A tremor laced your spine, but you didn’t have time to respond before he slipped to his knees. Your grip tightened around the phone as Hannibal’s deft fingers worked open your belt, your zipper. He pressed the palm of his hand below your navel, urging you to shift. You could almost taste the possessive fury emanating off him—your interest in Will fueling a sort of primal jealousy he refused to mask.

“Hannibal—” you murmured under your breath, a futile protest.

He did not answer except by freeing you from the confines of your trousers, his motions precise and unhurried. The notion that you might remain completely composed on the phone with Will while Hannibal did this to you was inconceivable. But that was precisely what Hannibal intended: to watch you falter, to watch you realize that no mundane connection with Will Graham could overshadow the stark intensity he offered.

“Hey,” Will’s voice came again, “is something happening? You sound—”

Hannibal wrapped his mouth around you in a single fluid motion, and your entire body jolted. The phone nearly slipped from your hand. Waves of pleasure undercut your ability to form coherent words. You tried—and failed—to swallow a gasp. Your hand shot out to brace against the table’s edge while the other clutched the phone. “Will, I—I’m here,” you choked out, your voice embarrassingly breathy. “Just… finishing dinner.”

Hannibal’s tongue worked agonizing patterns that obliterated any chance of calm. He was deliberate—this was not a gentle act, but a show of domination woven into the pleasure. A low hum vibrated through his throat, intensifying each burst of sensation, each quiet moan you tried so hard to stifle. "Okay." Will sounded uncertain, but you didn't care, especially when you tried to not moan at the sinful image Hannibal currently created. "So, tomorrow? Or do you have something already planned?"

In a moment of pity or sadism, Hannibal eased the speed of his ministrations, letting you draw a rattling breath. He slid his hands up your sides, anchoring your hips in place so you couldn’t pull away if you tried. "Yes, tomorrow sounds perfect—" A sharp inhale caught your words when Hannibal resumed his torturous, calculated pace. “But I really have to go now. Take care." Hannibal’s satisfied murmur around you sent pleasure zinging straight up your spine. He wanted Will to hear the quiver in your voice, wanted you to know exactly who commanded your desire.

“Okay,” Will answered, perplexed. “Goodnight, see you soon.”

The line went dead, and you let the phone drop onto the table with a clatter. Freed from pretense, your head fell back against the chair, a ragged moan escaping your throat. Hannibal, no longer constrained by the presence of a third party on the line, began to move in earnest. He swallowed around you, sucking, swirling his tongue, each motion of his mouth orchestrated with merciless elegance.

Your mind hazed, every nerve lit up by the sensation. You tried to swallow the cries building in your throat, but Hannibal was relentless. This was how he expressed the depth of his jealousy, by consuming you quite literally. Possessiveness roiled beneath each caress, as though he might devour you rather than allow you to belong to anyone else.

You felt the telltale curl of heat in your abdomen, your muscles tensing, thighs trembling. Hannibal read you like a well-worn script. He tightened his hold, swallowing you deeper, coaxing you into the precipice of release. With a strangled groan, you surrendered, your body snapping taut as pleasure raked through you.

Hannibal took it all, his eyes sliding shut as he savored every moment. Only when you finally slumped back, chest heaving, did he relinquish you. He stood with his usual, unhurried poise, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb.

His dark gaze met yours—smug, perhaps, but also blazing with an undercurrent of satisfaction. You caught your breath, warmth still buzzing in your limbs. When he leaned down, you instinctively closed the distance, pressing a hard, heated kiss to his lips. The taste of yourself lingered on him, fueling your own swirl of possessive desire.

When you pulled back, Hannibal’s mouth quirked in a small, dangerous smile. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip. “You agreed to meet Will tomorrow. Perhaps something will get in the way and ruin your plans."

You said nothing, merely tightened your hold on his arm. In that searing moment, as Hannibal stared down at you with an air of unspoken triumph, any notion of a normal, innocent future with Will Graham felt like a distant dream. You might have dipped your toe in that possibility—but Hannibal’s ravenous gravity always pulled you back under.

You had already promised to spend the night—and you suspected Hannibal would ensure you stayed until dawn and beyond. The phone lay dormant on the table, Will’s name still glowing in your call history. For now, it was an afterthought. Caught in Hannibal’s thrall, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be—or perhaps you no longer had a choice.

[muniimyg]

2.5: stfu 》 series m.list

note: my friends 🤭 how are we? this ch is jus fluff & rlly jus out here to give insight w their dynamic as friends !!! hope u enj 💛

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook

//

Jungkook is a dick. 

Okay, he isn’t exactly a sly bitch-ass motherfucker… He’s just a little miscommunicative, a little forgetful, and a little annoying sometimes… Let’s just say he’s lucky he’s hot. 

“I thought you wanted to make out,” you half-heartedly complain as he finally notices you for the first time tonight. He chuckles before settling beside you. Your body itches for him to be closer. Instead, he keeps a friendly seating distance. “How did we end up here?”

Let’s set the scene.

You two are in a karaoke room with your friends. The boys are belting out their sad love songs while your best friend, Yuna, continues to down as many drinks as possible. Currently, she’s celebrating being ghosted, and this karaoke session was actually her doing. 

Yuna has been your friend since the beginning of time. With that being said: you two are complete opposites. She likes surprises and showing up… You like planning and ditching. She has her fair share of passionate flings and you have your fair share of boring boyfriends. It’s truly a work of balance between you two. Regardless, you love her with your entire heart and can’t wait for her to meet better men. On the other hand, Yuna holds a flaw that sickens you to your very core. Since the first day Taehyung introduced you and her to Jungkook, she has not shut up about how cute of a couple you two would make.

Aside from that, Yuna is chill. Your friendship with her is completely low maintenance. It’s hard to feel offended when you’ve always known she’s been closer to Taehyung. They’re the best of friends. Naturally, she texted Taehyung the ground-breaking news and he quickly got to work. He called all the boys up and then they all headed to Jungkook’s. Unfortunately, they beat you there and Jungkook didn’t have enough time to text you a warning. As you stood outside his door, you quickly caught on and pretended like Jungkook had communicated the plans with you. 

To be honest, it’s not like you needed Jungkook tonight. If anything, it was him who wanted to see you so bad… But you can’t help but feel irritated that the night turned out like this. 

It feels a little weird. 

You know you can touch him. That’s allowed, right? You two are friends and harmless physical affection is okay! It’s like, you know you reach over and touch his hand; he would hold it. You know he would.. So why isn’t he? 

It’s too early for you to swallow your pride.. However, that doesn’t stop you from having needs.

He should make the first move.

“I mean,” he takes a quick sip of his drink, “I’m a little shy… Oh! Idea… How about you kiss me first and I promise to kiss you back.”

You glare at him, shoulders dropping at his answer. Like always, he’s being a piece of shit. Swiftly, you take the drink from his hand and chug the rest of it down. When you finish, you hand him the empty glass and as you’re about to say something—he reaches over and wipes the top of your lip. 

You sit still and take in this moment. He’s slightly leaning in and his eyes are on your lips. Surely, he’ll fold, right? You want him to. 

When he pulls away, he puts his glass down. “I’m right here. You gonna do it or not?”

“We’re literally at a fucking karaoke room with our friends, Jungkook.”

“So?”

“I’m not exposing myself this early on!” you whisper-shout. 

He snickers. “And just how long is this supposed to last? Are we gonna be a secret forever?”

You shrug, having no answer for him. “This is stupid. You’re the one who asked—begged—me to come over and make out with you. You said you wanted to kiss my lips and my—”

“I know what I said,” Jungkook chides. “I meant what I said. Nothing changed.”

You poke his chest and repeat yourself. “We’re in a karaoke room with our fucking friends.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I had no choice! Blame Yuna!”

You gasp. “I would never!”

His shoulders slump, feeling defeated. “___, what do you want me to do? Fuck you in the bathroom—”

Your eyes widen at his blunt words. Quickly, you cover his mouth with your hand. He licks it in response and you groan in disgust. “You’re disgusting!”

“Pay back for spitting back at me the other night.”

Your eyes dart at him. He laughs and puts his hands up in defeat. “Relax. They aren’t listening to us.”

As you wipe your wet hand on his shirt, you take his word for it. Then, you move away from him and cross your arms in frustration. Jungkook playfully inches closer, murmuring apologies. You shake your head, pout, and turn the other way. 

Jungkook feels stuck. 

Was he really in the wrong? Did he go too far? Did anyone even hear? You’re just so uptight sometimes… It wouldn’t hurt to laugh, right?

That’s exactly what he figures to do.

Jungkook calls over the mic and stands up to sing. Everyone calms down and gives him their undivided attention.

“Uh,” Jungkook begins, “This is for Yuna!”

“No thanks!” Yuna rejects, raising a shot at him. She drinks it in one go and giggles. Jungkook winks, turning his attention to you. You cover your eyes with your hands and ignore the rest of the boys' cheers. 

“If I were your boyfriend, I’d never let you go. I can take you places you ain’t never been before. Baby take a chance or you’ll never know. I got money in my hands that I’d really like to blow… Swag, swag, swag on you,” Jungkook sings cheekily. He takes his time, doing body rolls, and makes his performance much more dramatic with the help of Jimin and Nam Joon. 

Suddenly, the boys all join in.

They turn Jungkook’s special number into the performance of the night. They hype each other up and even create a choreo. Towards the end, Jungkook kneels in front of you and serenades the last few lyrics; “if I was your boyfriend, never let you go. Keep you in arm girl, you’d never be alone. If I was your boyfriend, I can be a gentleman, anything you want… If I was your boyfriend, I’d never let you go. I’d never let you go. So give me a chance, 'cause you're all I need girl. Spend a week with your boy I'll be calling you my girlfriend. If I was your man, I'd never leave you girl… I just want to love you, and treat you right.”

When the song comes to a complete end, the sound of the guy's laughter fills the room. Jungkook stays on his knees, making a pouty face. 

“Still mad?”

You give him a cold shoulder. “Dunno.”

Jungkook laughs, catching himself as he begins to lean in. Yuna awkwardly clears her throat. You shoot her a glare and she sticks her tongue out at you two.

“Jungkook…” she warns. “You’re not allowed to have ___!” 

He snickers at her. “Fine with me! I don’t want her.”

Yuna waves her finger at Jungkook, lowering her gaze at him. She isn’t convinced with his words. “Listen you motherfucker… You touch her and I’ll ruin your life.” 

Jungkook laughs coyly before turning to you. He wrinkles his nose and shrugs, “guess this is the beginning of my end.”

“Guess it is,” you purse your lips. “Too bad.”

“Too bad?” Jungkook scoffs, “if you’re my end; then so be it. Nothing more beautiful than you.”

You make a sour face at him before throwing the karaoke book his way. He dodges it and sticks his middle finger out at you. Then, he returns to his boys and joins them in song. From the corner of your eye, you see Yuna giving you a look. She mouths out, “anything to confess?”

You shake your head and roll your eyes at her.

Confess? What is there to confess? Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

By the grace of God, Taehyung was able to get Yuna to stop drinking. However, by the time Taehyung suggested to do so… She was no longer able to walk on her own. The karaoke session ends and everyone is either tipsy or helping Taehyung take care of Yuna. 

“Should I walk you home?”

You sit up and take your phone out. Swiping it open, you don’t bother to look at him when you answer. “I can Uber.”

Jungkook then snatches your phone and holds it above his head. There’s a lazy smirk on his face you want to slap off. “You’re not Ubering home alone and tipsy.”

“Walking home with you isn’t any better.”

In all honesty, Jungkook is tipsy too. He chugged a few beers last minute and took Yuna’s remaining shots. Yet, it’s clear that he’s sober enough to take care of himself. One thing you’ve only recently started to notice about Jungkook is that he’s a grumpy, sad, and needy drunk. Maybe the grumpy part is more prominent in the tipsy portion.

He offers a sarcastic laugh before frowning. “Shut the fuck up and get your shit. Let’s go. I’m tired.”

“Then go home—”

“Don’t be difficult,” he begs. “Just let me do this.”

The walk home is rather quiet. 

Aside from Jungkook’s lame attempts to ask you about your classes and work schedule, there’s not much to talk about. You answer him politely, feeling a little relieved that his little attitude is melting away. Slowly but surely, he was sobering up. 

To keep the conversation going, you ask him about the boys and what it’s like now that he moved out with Taehyung and Jimin. He answers truthfully, stating that the living situation is neater than he expected and that he misses the dynamic with everyone around during late nights. Sure the two boys kept him company and the aspect of privacy was nice, but he can’t help but miss the chaos. 

As he speaks and as you walk side by side with him—it still feels weird. It’s that same weird feeling you felt in the karaoke room. 

Your fingertips have brushed against each other for the nth time tonight. Was it the drinks you downed or are you actually feeling a little annoyed he didn’t even try to hold your hand tonight? And how did we get here? 

It’s your front door. 

… Is this it? Is it really just goodnight and go?

“Do you think Taehyung is secretly in love with Yuna?” Jungkook blurts with a cheeky grin on his face. “He’s all she talks about and vice versa. She always comes over and they just sit and talk and laugh like they’re the only two people in the world.”

You pause and think about it. “They’ve always been close.”

“Not like this,” he advocates. “They’re… Happier?”

“She’s still hung up on that guy that ghosted her… Maybe good company is just good company, you know? It doesn’t always have to mean or lead to a new love interest.” 

Jungkook tilts his head. “Is that how you feel too?”

“What do you mean?”

He bites his tongue. “Never mind.”

“... Okay?” you respond awkwardly. You turn away and dig through your bag for your key. “Thanks for walking me home, I guess? Goodnight.”

Jungkook sighs loudly. “Can you at least look at me and pretend like you care if I get home safe or not?”

“But I’d be lying!” you laugh, finally finding your keys. You stick it in and turn the nob. Suddenly, you feel his hand grab your wrist. With one tug, your body turns to face him. He smiles sweetly as you frown at him. 

“Dream of me,” he teases, taking a step closer to you. Closing in the space between, he dips his head low and lowers his gaze to your lips. 

“That’s just mean,” you whine. “Why would you want me to have nightmares?”

He glares at you. “Ha. Ha. Not funny.”

“It was pretty funny.”

Jungkook huffs, “no, it hurt my feelings actually.”

“Not my problem,” you snark back.

“You’re always my problem.”

“You’re annoying as fuck—”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook stresses. “Just let me kiss you goodnight, woman!”

Before you can answer, he crashes his lips against yours and kisses you. He does it deeply like he’s been waiting to kiss you all night. When you pull away for a breath, he continues to give you little kisses. You laugh and playfully push his face away from yours. 

He pouts and demands, “kiss me lots, ___.”

You can’t even deny him. In this very moment, he is the most precious thing in the world. You let him kiss you once more before squishing his cheeks together. You give him a peck before saying goodnight for the last time. 

“Get home safe, pookie.”

“Arghh,” Jungkook curls his hand into a fist and hits the left side of his chest. “I knew you’d care.”

He wishes to never forget the way his heart flutter at this very moment… And as much as you hate to admit it—your heart flutters too.

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

midnight melodies

↖ navigation: nct masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: bf! haechan x gn! reader

↬ tags: nicknames for haechan!! (e.g. haech, my dude, boyfie, loml, cutie pie, biggest baby), very wholesome i promise, this is what missing someone feels like to me, i have been listening to piwon's late night calls ttoo much thank you muacks (>w<)

summary: he called to tell you he misses you ; you replied because you love him so

word count: 673 words

haechan: i miss you like crazy, are you up? haechan: let's chat :> i like talking to you and with you <3 haechan: i wanna hear your voice. pretty please???

he attempts to dial you, line going dead when you didn't pick up on the first ring. he glances at the bedside clock, the neon green numbers flashing a 11.28pm back at him. it wasn't that late yet.

you were probably awake...right?

a minute later, haechan's phone buzzed: an incoming call from you. his eyes widened in surprise as his hands loses all control, the phone jolting out of his grasp from the sudden vibration. reaching out to grab the fallen device, he hurriedly accepts the call.

"you're still awake??" he puts the phone on speaker next to his ear, waiting for your response. a second of static later and he hears your voice, soft and laced with sleep, "haech, you're crazy..."

"hey...i just missed you. a lot." a short string of laughter leaves his lips. he just saw you a few hours ago when you had him over yours for dinner, but he craved your presence again.

it was so interesting, the way he thinks of you so often like it was breathing to him.

another moment of silence, "...the lights in my room are off. it hurts my eyes to be texting. that's why i decided to call." you mumbled and haechan hears the sound of bedsheets rustling. your muffled yawn came through his speakers and he sheepishly laughs, "sorry, is this a bad time to call you?"

he hugs a nearby plushie you gifted him close to his chest, heart warming when you hummed, "my dude, you really texted me all that...saying you're gonna die without me or something..."

he tried and failed to hide his growing smile. he likes you too much.

"my dude?? hey treat me with some respect, i'm your boyfriend alright..." haechan doesn't have the heart to tease you too much, chuckling at your use of "my dude" romantically. you scoffed, "okay boyfie. what's keeping you up, hmm?"

the corners of his lips immediately turned upwards at the sound of his favorite nickname. he rolled over to his stomach, legs idly kicking behind him, "well...i just saw you a few hours ago but i miss you. that's literally all. can't a man miss their lover? i wanna talk to you too."

"you can...it's just...haech, i can't think...so sleepy..." you let loose another yawn and haechan rolls his eyes even though he knows you can't see him do that, "i know, i know, you sleepyhead. feels a bit weird since i wanted to hear your voice but now i'm doing all the talking and you're the one hearing mine. isn't it?" he paused.

"...h-huh..." you blearily replied, causing haechan to endearingly giggle at your tired self. "so cute...should i be kind and end the call?" he asked, certain that you were already almost reaching la-la-land. when you first had a sleepover at his place, he swoons at how you clung to his side making him all protective of you.

you made a huffing sound and he pictures you tucking the blanket higher up your body, comfortably hidden by that fluffy grey duffle he gifted you as a gag gift in summer. now that the weather is colder, haechan realizes that he's known you for quite a while.

he then recalls every single detail about you he memorized over time, the way your face contorts with humor at his antics to the moments where you allowed yourself to receive his odd ministrations of love and even when you reciprocated them with your own subtle actions.

he was in love with you as much as you were in love with him. a wave of emptiness and sentiment hit him and he whispers into the phone, "i love you."

he repeats it one more time: an affirmation, a promise, "i really love you."

haechan clapped a hand over his mouth when he discerns your snoring through the phone. in his fashion, he ended the call with a kiss (also knowing you probably didn't hear that), before curling up on his side.

he'll just have to see you again tomorrow.

@ppumeonae-bigvibe's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated !

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances [4]

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Oh dear, not beta read, overuse of italics, sub!Blue, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), swearing, p in v sex, cream pie, Blue being all soft and crying, Blue having nightmares, Blue being a little shit, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 2252

Only One Step Away

“Come to bed with me, Lion.” He mutters, his voice soft and eyes closed as he presses you against the door. His hands stroke your cheeks softly, almost soothingly if you let yourself sink into the sensation.

You tense ever so slightly despite how hard he’s just made you come. His eyes open as he feels it, giving you a long look from under his thick lashes. 

“I’m not going to bite, Lion. I’d expect you to be the one to do that.” He smiles a wicked grin, but swallows when he senses your uncertainty. “I’m not forcing you, I’m just asking.” He traces the line of your jaw with his fingertips. “I want to shower and sleep… with you next to me.” 

“You’re not worried I’ll strangle you the second you're unconscious?” You tease and the gleam quickly returns to his eyes.

He presses his chest close to yours, “Oh, promises, promises.” He bites his lip. “Don’t distract me with a good time.” 

You chuckle, unable to stop yourself. And to your surprise he beams, the expression lighting up his whole face as the giddy thrill of amusing you races through his veins. 

You lightly touch his cheek, mirroring his caress on your skin. Blue closes his eyes, pressing his head fully into your hand and breathing in deeply. 

“Alright.” You whisper. 

.

You’ve never been in his private rooms, the ones that are sealed behind the locked door in his office. You’re not quite sure what you were expecting, they’re opulently decorated yes, but not as much as his office, not as showy. More focused on comfort than status. There’s a reasonably sized living room with a plush sofa and a large dark wooden bookshelf lining the walls. There’s a book open on the coffee table, bent in half face down. 

The bathroom, all black tile and a fancy white and gold tub that is surely big enough to swim in, is ensuite to the bedroom. 

You know he doesn’t stay in his rooms all the time, he has a home somewhere outside of the club. But you also know he rarely spends time there. 

He kisses you in the shower, running his hands all over you in the soothing warm water, barely talking other than asking if he can wash your skin. 

It’s oldy nice. His gentle touch, the soft look in his eyes. The way he nuzzles against you and holds you close like he is clinging onto you, not pulling you near, not demanding, but pleading. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully naked. The first time you’ve seen his chest and back completely bare. 

Your line of sight lingers on the scars that litter his skin, the series of lines and burn marks across his shoulders. The criss cross of cuts along his ribs. They’re old, well healed but obviously deep. There’s a newer scar on his right side where a bullet went clean through just above his hip, you knew about that one, had heard the stories and gossip from the other dancers. Somehow that one doesn’t seem as stark as the others. 

When Blue notices you looking he smiles, but it’s a small thing. An almost shy twitch of his lips. He stays closer to you after that, trying to keep his body hidden from you without it being bitterly obvious. 

The second he turns off the shower he wraps you in a fluffy towel before he gives you a soft bathrobe to wear and ushers you into the bedroom.  

His bed is lavish, dramatic. But it’s obvious which side he sleeps on, the books and clock, notes and pens and knic knacks all stacked on the right hand side bedside table. Quickly he pulls on a t-shirt and boxers, which makes you smile for a moment. You were sure he would have opulent silk pyjamas hand stitched in gold, a plain white cotton t-shirt seems… off. 

He guides you into bed a little nervously, suddenly drawn in on himself and looking down. 

“Blue?” You stroke his cheek before you sit, looking over his face carefully, scrutinising for any clue of his distress. Part of you screams in your head, yells at you for caring, for worrying. 

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours when you tilt his chin upwards. 

“Are you okay?” 

He nods, but the action isn’t sure of itself. You realise this is probably the first time anyone other than himself has been in here. 

He seems… softer now. Less sharp at the edges with his make-up washed away and short hair damp. You run your thumb over his moustache. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

His breathing hitches, eyes widening at your words. A light flush creeps along his cheeks. “I…” He swallows, “I should be saying that to you, Lion.” 

You lean forward and kiss him lightly, “Well, I said it first.” 

His throat bobs, the glazed, love sick look he gives you is piercing. Somehow cutting you deeper than any expression you have ever seen him show before.

He nods after a moment, trying to push down an emotion you can’t quite place. “Here,” he holds out his hand, waits for you to take it before he climbs into the bed, pulling back the covers for you to join him and encourages you to lie down. 

Blue snuggles next to you the second your back hits the mattress, wrapping his arms around you and shuffling close. He breathes deeply, a little shudder running through his chest. 

“Lion, Lion, Lion.” He mutters, the sound low and soft, more for his own ears than yours. 

You expect it to be difficult, if not impossible to fall asleep. How could it possibly be comfortable with him next to you? How could you not be on edge? 

Instead, you find yourself slipping into dreams the second you close your eyes. 

.

It’s dark when you wake, still early morning. Your shoulder aches ever so slightly from where you’ve been laying oddly. 

At first, you don’t remember where you are and that alone is enough to fill you with the purest panic. But then the sounds of Blue talking in his sleep filter into your groggy mind. 

You sit up slightly, there is just enough light to see him curled up on his side shaking. His words are indistinguishable, nonsense. But he’s crying, his face pinched together and crumbled. 

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t give a flying fuck. 

But you do.

And it hurts.

“Blue,” you say softly, putting your hand on his shoulder gently. His skin is cold, clammy, and for a second you wonder if he’s ill. 

He stays asleep, his eyes closed, still mumbling. 

“Blue.” Your voice is firmer this time, but calm. Safe. And you shake him ever so slightly. 

He jumps as he wakes, freezing as his eyes snap open in panic. 

“You’re okay.” You swallow. “You’re-”

“Lion?” His voice is crocky, weak. 

You nod and he grabs hold of your hand on his shoulder, turning around and shifting closer to you. 

“I…” There are tears on his cheeks, still budding in his eyes. 

You move closer to him, wiping at the wetness on his face and whispering soothing words. “It’s okay, you’re alright. We’re safe here.”

He nuzzles closer, wrapping his arms around you desperately and squeezing. His grip is strong despite how his hands tremble. 

Blue shakes his head, pulling you closer and grabbing at your right hand. 

You frown, unsure of what he’s doing at first, but then he spreads your fingers and presses your palm to his throat. 

“Please.” He whispers, hardly above silence. 

Your hand flexes automatically, and he whimpers swallowing hard and pressing his head back against the pillow.

“Thank you.” He closes his eyes, lighty stroking your bicep and trailing his other hand to your hip. 

He gasps, his eyelids fluttering as you squeeze. His heartbeat echoes in his neck, but to your surprise you can feel it slowing, calming as you increase your grip. 

His lips part as he lets out a shuddered breath. His muscles tense and squirm as he lets the sensation of your hand on him overtake his mind. 

You can’t help yourself, unable to resist the urge to lean forward and trace your thumb of your free hand over his bottom lip. 

He gasps, his eyes opening as he darts the tip of his tongue out and flicks in against your fingertip. 

The way your breathing hitches surprises you, you can see the adoration shining in Blue’s eyes in the dark. 

Heat pools in your stomach, twisting around your muscles. It shouldn’t be so enticing, him looking like that. So soft and pliant and laid out for you like a feast. Your wetness rubs against your inner thighs as your body practically begs to take him and break him into whatever shape you wish.

“Ride me.” He mutters, almost looking embarrassed to be asking. “Just…” He takes your hand on his face and guides it down to his heavy cock, hard and ready. “Use me to get off, please.” He swallows, his voice timid. “Keep squeezing my neck and I’ll be quiet and still for you.” 

He gives you a nervous glance from under his eyelashes, the uncertainty of his gaze cracks into your ribs and weakens any resolve you could possibly hope to have. 

You nod, keeping your right hand around his throat as you pull up his shirt slightly and tug his boxers down to his thighs. You stroke him once, slow. More for your own amusement than his. He stays quiet as you run your fingers over his velvet soft skin, but his muscles tense and twitch under the strain. 

Blue swallows as you climb on top of him, his throat bobbing under your grip. He closes his eyes when you line up with his length and sink down, his back arches for a second before he regains control and pushes him back back flat to the bed, his hands at his sides. 

As you swallow more of his cock you gasp, rocking your hips to ease the stretch and help the glide. It’s like you can feel him in your chest, pushing your lungs and trying to pierce your heart. 

He pulses with the beat of his heart, spearing you open and making your clit throb with the deep stretch. 

You moan softly, hardly able to move, to do anything other than take more and more of him as your knees slip wider and he sinks deeper. 

He whines, gasping as you finally sheath him inside, his balls pressing against your ass. 

You rock slowly, trying to adjust to him and squeezing his throat rhythmically. 

Blue tries to stay as quiet as possible, his breathing turning into quiet pants when you finally find the right rhythm. 

His thighs quiver as you ride him, rolling your hips so that his tip strokes devastatingly inside. You gasp, biting your lip. You don’t want it to be good, you don’t want it to feel so right. Him balls deep and you soaking his cock and chasing your pleasure like you are possessed. 

“Blue,” you groan, your fingers digging into his neck.

He looks at you instantly, focusing on you. The look on his face is palpable, the strain of holding back. 

“Blue,” you mutter again, your voice raising in pitch and he gasps. 

You lean forward, changing the angle so you can grind and roll and- you sob as he brushes so perfectly inside. The sensation burning and cracking up your spine like electricity. The cry that leaves your throat has him tensing, shaking from the effort to hold himself back. 

Fresh tears fill his eyes from the strain, the long drawn out edge of being so close. His toes curl as you moan, taking your pleasure completely from him. 

You squeeze his neck harder, biting at his bottom lip possessively. “Come with me.” You growl, your mind burning hot and too far gone to think of anything else. 

He shakes his head with a sob, “I want you to feel good-”

“Are you questioning me?” You snarl, nipping at his jaw and he whines, gasps. His body follows your order without a second thought as he shakes. His hips snap upwards once, his soft, sweet, desperate cries tipping you over the edge. 

You come hard, all thoughts dissolving and focusing only on him as your orgasm rolls over you. 

Your hips move on their own as your keep coming, the pleasure pushes further and further as he pumps hot, thick cum deep inside you. 

You breathe hard as you come back down, aftershocks twisting along your muscles. There are fresh tears on Blue’s cheeks, and even in the poor light you can see the bruising on his neck. 

“Oh,” you touch his skin softly, your stomach dropping, suddenly horrified. 

He looks up at you in a panic, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come,” he flinches, “please, don’t-”

You kiss him deeply, stroking his sweaty skin before you pull his t-shirt off completely. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m sorry, I’ve…” you stroke his neck, “it looks…”

“Feels good.” He says softly, pilant and small. “I don’t want you to be sorry either.” 

You nod. 

He presses his forehead to yours, whimpering when you stroke his hair and kiss his nose, closing his eyes as he tangles himself up in your embrace. 

This isn’t right. This shouldn’t feel so comfortable. 

Thank you for reading!

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[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 2 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: i can't tell you all how i excited i am to get this fic going! thank you for the lovely comments on the first chapter, i promise there is a lot of cool stuff to come!

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 2 - The Patrol

‘Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.’  - Richard Silken, The Worm King’s Lullaby

There is a thin sheet of ice covering the streams that are heading downwards. It crunches under the hooves of their horses that dutifully carry them up the hill and past the gas station. Joel is glad that it's Tommy next to him. He's more tense than he's felt in ages, a gnawing feeling in his stomach that has little to do with the skipped breakfast and a lot with the worry that is etched into the frown between his brows. He wouldn't want anyone to see him like this, much less try and calm him down, something he knows is a lost battle.

“They might be fine, Joel,” his younger brother says gently, just loud enough for him to hear. Tommy thinks there will be no response until one comes, a little too late for it to not be premeditated.

“She talked about leaving, sometimes. They would be stupid enough to run off-”

“And leave Jackson?” Tommy raises a brow. “Maria said their house looked normal, all their things still in place. They wouldn't be stupid enough to leave all that behind.”

Joel doesn't want to hear it. He knows, better than anyone. Knows that you wouldn't just leave, not without saying goodbye to the children you'd come to care about so much. Would you leave him without a goodbye?

He almost hopes you would. Because if you didn't leave willingly, what was the alternative? It would've been nearly impossible for someone to take you from inside Jackson with no one noticing. But he can't shake the feeling that something is off.

It’s Tommy who has to keep reminding him to ride slow, to keep an eye on the ground for possible tracks. Joel just wants to go, to spur Old Beardy on until they're galloping up the hill, despite not knowing where it is he needs to go. He just wants to find you. Preferably in one piece, happy and healthy. 

He would’ve missed it.

The small footprints leading off the road and onto a smaller path, one that's twisting through pines and further into the woods. 

Tommy nods. “Pretty sure ‘tis the one that leads to the hunting cabin.”

It only takes a few minutes for them to be sure. The wooden cabin is hidden away behind a few trees, difficult to spot if you don't know where to look. It doesn't really serve any purpose, at least not anymore. The roof at the back caved in years ago, allowing rain and plants alike to enter the dimly lit room. It’s less than five miles from the gate of Jackson, tucked away from the main road.

He can’t help but think that this would be the perfect place to run off to. Or to hide a body.

Joel is off his horse in a second, not even bothering to tie the stallion's halter to the wooden posts in front of the cabin. Without thinking, he tugs his revolver out of his waistband, using his foot to nudge the door open.

He smells it before his eyes even have a chance to adjust to the dim light. The unmistakable stench of blood. And mixed with it, creating an odor that immediately makes him sick to his stomach, the smell of gunpowder in the air.

***

The sun has been slowly rising while you’ve been flipping through the pages, trying to find the volumes you’re looking for. The library of Jackson, though rather small, has been frequented more and more, especially in the winter months when the weather doesn’t always allow activities outside and people resort to what they’ve always known: Books.

The entire place is supposed to be relocated soon, to a small store on main street. But compared to the greenhouses needing repairs and the stables being expanded, books don't seem to be a priority for most of the townsfolk.

“Books can’t feed us or keep us safe,” Maria pointed out when you brought the slow progress up to her. You politely disagree. You feel like you could live off books for the rest of your life.

Still, packing up everything means the old place, a shed tucked away behind the church, is currently a mess. Sagging bookshelves, a leaky roof and too many books for too little space means chaos. One that only few bother to navigate in its current state. You among them.

It was the crack of dawn when you slipped out of the house, deciding to let Lane sleep in while you walked through the still empty streets to the far end of the town, hoping to get the library work out of the way before the first lesson of the day.

Maria is the one that finds you, making your head peek up from between two shelves with a frown. “You changed your mind on those books?”

She gives a small laugh, one that sounds oddly like relief. Then her face becomes stern again, the look she carries much more often. “You two have some explaining to do, do you realize that?”

Now it's your turn to frown. “We two?” She pauses at that, looking around the small room. But there is no one here but you and her and the characters bleeding from the pages.

“Is Lane not with you?”

You shake your head, turning your attention back to the book in your hands. “She has the 8AM class today.” 

“She's not there,” Maria curtly responds. You can tell she's trying to keep her voice steady but there is a hint of anxiety regardless. 

“Then she overslept again,” you half guess-half ask, closing the book again.

“She's not at home either.”

An odd feeling crawls over your body. You can't remember what was in your hands a moment ago, but the question is forgotten in an instant. Maria carefully watches as you step out from between the shelves, her tone still gentle. “I've sent Tommy and Joel out to search. We thought you two snuck out.”

You feel numb as you shake your head. “No, I- I didn't see her this morning. I thought she was still asleep.” You rack your brain for the memories of this morning, of last night, of the last week even. But nothing comes to mind, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I was out late last night, finishing up some paperwork,” you mutter, more to yourself than the woman in front of you, retracing your steps in your mind. “Lane got home before me, I had dinner, we talked about blueberries-”

“Blueberries?” Maria asks, her hand already back on the doorknob. She seems restless and it's that fleeting detail that worries you more than anything. Maria stays in control. Always. 

“Yeah, we- It doesn't matter. I don't know where she is,” you finish lamely, getting up and joining her at the door. But she hasn't moved yet.

“You should stay at home. I'm sure she'll show up again soon and if she comes back to your place, someone should be there.” You nod but your mind is already drifting again. Lane’s been doing fine, good. So have you, really. Maria gently reaches for your shoulder, steering you out of the shed and towards the church, down the street that leads to the center of Jackson. 

You're passing the small graveyard that's protected by brick walls, the stones already withered, pale in contrast to the dark metal fence running along on top. The gate is ajar, but you barely pay it any attention as the information settles in your brain. It takes a few seconds for it to reach your mouth and leave your lips.

“She went out a few times.” 

“Out?” Maria enquires, raising an eyebrow as her attention shifts back to you.

“I thought she'd met someone. Cat and her were pretty close and I figured-” You give a small shrug. It's more than uncomfortable, suddenly, and absurd, that you're discussing Lane's private life so openly, with Maria of all people.

“Don't tell her I said that,” you add quickly. 

Maria nods as you reach the end of the brick wall. “I won't. I'll get back to the city hall and see if there’s any news yet. You go home.”

Your head nods as if on its own accord. Maria has already turned her back towards you when you pipe up. “Maria?” 

She pauses, her back straightening a bit. “Yes?”

“You don't think anything happened to Lane, do you?” 

The older woman shakes her head softly. “No. I'm sure she's fine. Now get home. Maybe she's already there.”

And she hurries off, leaving you at the corner of the street with a trembling body and a heavy feeling in your stomach. For a fleeting moment, you allow your thoughts to wander past the point you've been dreading to consider. What if something has happened? If Lane did sneak out, maybe with Cat, maybe alone, and got into some sort of situation? What if she's hurt?

The sky has turned from pink to a light blue, only a few clouds piling around the mountains on the horizon. You glance down at your hands, shaking ever so slightly. You decide to blame it on the cold. The cold that may be getting to your head as well. Because after a few moments, you turn on your heels, heading for the stables. It's only a few rows of houses until the large wooden wall looms in front of you, blocking out the little sunlight you could get in the morning. The wall that protects you from what lies beyond. Infected and Raiders and maybe, you think, as you slip into the stables, maybe answers.

if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing and commenting, every single notif on this fic makes my heart swell with love <3

[kitty-tea]

The bad girl gets what she deserves

Cedric Diggory x Slytherin!reader

Part 1, part 2

Link to masterlist

NSFW smut, adults/18+ only! Otherwise don’t read!

Here’s the third and final part of the story I promised! I tried to make it extra special since it’s the last one! Again thank you so much to everyone for the support!

UPDATE because I forgot to write this before: For the sake of the story, let’s say the girl’s dormitories weren’t enchanted by the founders to prevent boys from entering like in the main stories.

Summary: You plan to have fun with Cedric at a party after hours

Word count: 4.1k

Tags/warnings: characters are of age, dry humping, making out, drinking, cum tasting, porn with a hint of plot, oral sex, blowjobs, grinding, (I’ll probably add more later)

-

As you walked through the Great Hall, you heard whispering coming from next to you. You glared as you whipped your head towards the source of the voices. Of course it had to be Draco Malfoy sitting at your house table with his little gang consisting of his friends, the Quidditch team, and some of the boys in your year. Malfoy looked up from his conversation with his friends to make eye contact with you before covering his mouth with his hands and giggling childishly. You let out an angry huff as you turned around. You hated giving Malfoy any sort of attention as much as you hated him giving you any attention as well.

You spotted your group of friends and greeted them before taking a seat next to them.

“You know, Malfoy started a rumor about you.” Was the first thing you heard.

“So what?” You said casually as you grabbed a box of cereal and poured it into your bowl along with the milk. “I don’t give a damn what that little twat says. What he says is irrelevant to me. I’ll be out of school by next year while he’s stuck here for two more years.”

“Actually, you’re going to want to care about this.” Your other friend said, looking around as if to see if anyone was snooping. “He’s telling people that you and Diggory are sleeping together.” She whispered.

You choked on your spoonful of cereal.

“What?! That little… ugh! He’s got no business saying that.”

“It’s not true is it?” She asked. “You and Diggory? The captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team? You’ve got to be mental to go for someone like him. I mean not that there’s anything wrong with him, but he’s just so… different from you. You’re lucky Malfoy and the rest of Slytherin never talk to Diggory or else that rumor would’ve made its way to him by now.”

“Shut up, Sofie.” Your other friend, who hadn’t spoken up, nudged her arm. She turned to you. “Is it true? I've got the feeling that you’ve been fancying him for quite some time. Don’t you guys always see her eye-fucking him everywhere he is?” She and the rest of the group erupted into a fit of giggles. “Like how she’s doing right now!”

Your cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red as you turned your head away from where you saw Cedric sitting at the Hufflepuff table except his back was to you, so he wasn’t the one to catch you staring at him. Usually, you were able to focus enough to not act flustered around boys you liked, but at that moment, you were fuming so much inside because of other people putting their noses in your business that you couldn’t keep yourself together.

“Merlin’s beard!” Exclaimed Sofie. “Lia was right! You really fancy him!”

You didn’t say anything.

“I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at Lia who had a smug smile on her face.

You suppressed the urge to smack her with the cereal box.

While you and Cedric decided to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend last week, you wouldn’t have minded not being so secretive had it not been for the gossipy nature of your housemates. You weren’t the type of person who wanted everyone in your business, and the more people pried, the more inclined you were to push them away.

“You’re not saying anything.” Sofie said to you in a sing-song voice. “Normally, you would say whether something’s true or not when there’s a rumor about you. So the fact that you’ve got nothing to say means it’s true then.”

“What? No, it means I have other things to worry about… like what I’ll be doing after I graduate.” You tried to change subjects.

“Like where you and Cedric will live.” Lia smirked.

“Is Malfoy right? Are you and Diggory sleeping together?” You hated that the topic somehow went back to Cedric. Even though it had only been a week after he and you got together, you felt like it would’ve been disrespectful to him and inappropriate if you were to start blabbing to your friends about your sexual encounters with him without his consent.

“I’m not going to say whether anything is true or not because I don’t want to give Malfoy the satisfaction of getting to me. I’ll see you in class.” You finished your bowl of cereal and got up to leave, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“You‘ll see Cedric in class too!” You ignored your friends giggling behind you.

Making sure that you were satisfied with how you did your eyeliner, you turned away from the mirror towards your friends. Some were still doing their makeup by their vanity while the others were sitting on their beds.

“You look hot by the way.” Serina said from her spot on her bed. She was talking about the black dress she picked out for you from her wardrobe. It was strapless and stopped right below your butt. You were glad you had magic so that you could make it fit you properly, not too baggy and not too tight.

“Yeah, if only Cedric could see you.” Isabel smiled as she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“Come on guys, there’s nothing to talk about concerning Cedric… we just study a lot together. Because we have most of our classes… together.” You tried to keep your voice level as you knew the color of your cheeks were anything but that.

“Stop denying it. We’ve seen you hang out with him, and by the looks of it, we can tell he fancies you too.” Lia said, the other girls nodding in agreement.

“You spied on me? For how long?” What else could you expect from your friends? They were in Slytherin for a reason.

“A week after we had that conversation at breakfast… I promise you we’re not judging!” Sofie rushed in, putting her hands on her shoulders. “We were talking about the party that we’re throwing in the common room tonight, and we thought you might want to… invite Cedric? It’s not even curfew yet. You can go find him. Just let him in.”

“Oh. Yes, if only it were just us and nobody else at the party.” You said sarcastically as you shrugged.

“You said you don’t care about the rumors of you and Cedric being fuckbuddies. Or dating, whatever.” Sofie pointed out.

“Come on, you’ll have much more fun with Cedric at the party… ” Isabel pleaded. “And we promise not to come in here.”

“Why would you say that? This is our room…” It then dawned on you what she implied, and you coughed as you took a look at the other girls who were all looking at you in return with a matching mischievous look in their eyes. “Oh…”

“We all know you want to.” Serina said with a know-it-all attitude. “And when it’s over, Cedric will have no problem sneaking back to his common room because he can get away with telling people he’s doing his duties as a Prefect.”

“Think about it.” Isabel said.

“Okay fine.” You seethed through your clenched teeth. “Malfoy was right about me and Cedric. So were you. We’re… seeing each other.” You cautiously admitted.

“Took you long enough to say it.” Lia rolled her eyes. “Not that you had to say it.”

“Let’s go. You’re wasting your time just by talking to us. Go find Cedric.” Sofie grabbed your hand and dragged you to the door before using her one armed strength to push you out of the room before you could say anything. You shivered as you held your arms against your chest. You hated that they didn’t give you your jacket or your wand so you could keep yourself warm.

You watched as the students in yellow and black uniforms walked past you to their common room. You knew how suspicious you looked, an outsider hanging around somewhere that wasn’t your space. Most of the students were too tired from doing homework or studying to pay attention to you, anyways. Except for one.

“You again!” It was the same first year boy that caught you sneaking into the Quidditch changing rooms the day you put that note in Cedric’s school bag. He was pointing at you. And he was with Cedric. Great. Now that you found him, you had to get him away from his little friend.

“Yeah, what of me?” You stood up from your place against the wall. “Cedric and I have some adult business to discuss.” You looked over at your boyfriend, whose eyes you caught widening as he took in your revealing outfit.

“We do? Oh… right.” You enjoyed seeing boys fumbling around you and getting flustered when you’d catch them spacing out, and it was especially amusing when it was someone you had fancied for a while.

“Yeah. Our assignments, and you know…” You raised your eyebrows at him, hoping he’d take a hint.

“Go on, it’s alright.” He said to the younger student, patting him on the back.

Once it was just the two of you alone out in the darkened corridor, you let your lips crash down on each other’s, not knowing who initiated the kiss.

“It’s almost curfew.” Cedric said once the two of you broke off from the kiss. You enjoyed the feeling of his warm hands running over the goosebumps on your arms. “You’ll get in trouble.”

“Like I’m a stranger to that.” You light-heartedly scoffed before rolling your eyes. “Have you got time?”

“Well, sure. Anything for you.” Wasn’t he just the sweetest boyfriend ever?

“My friends and I are having a party in our common room, and we want to invite you.” You said, eyeing him from his lips to your hands that were on his chest. “Come on, we’ll have so much fun. I know I’ve been having fun with you. And I want more. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Years of flirting taught you how to get boys to agree with you to almost anything. “And you’ll have no trouble sneaking around after the party because of your Prefect status.”

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s not my house’s common room. You said you and your friends want me there, but what about everyone else?” He asked.

“Well, you are the most confident Hufflepuff for a reason, and it’s not like you let other people’s negative opinions dictate how you act. I mean, I highly doubt anyone has a valid reason to dislike you. Because you’re so popular.” So far, you were pleased with yourself for how easily you were able to come up with what to say.

“So, what do you think?” You asked, letting your sparkling eyes and your smile do more of the talking.

You felt proud knowing your charms had worked on Cedric and he went along with your plan. By the time you had let him into the Slytherin common room, the party had already started with everyone present except for the younger students who wouldn't be aware of the party thanks to the silencing charm.

At least everyone else was too busy dancing to the loud music, drinking, or socializing to notice your entrance and the presence of an outsider.

“Come on,” you took Cedric’s hand and led him to where the windows were, next to the Black Lake. He was a little slow catching up to you, as he was more focused on taking in the room he’d never been in before.

“Wow. It’s… interesting.” Cedric was still looking around and moving his head like a child who was seeing skyscrapers for the first time.

You giggled at how adorable you thought he looked.

“I never thought I’d see the Slytherin common room.” He said off-handedly.

You saw your friends from the corner of your eye waving you over. “I think your friends want to talk to you.” Cedric leaned over to you as he pointed at them.

“Let’s go!“ you grabbed his hand as you led him over to the middle of the room where most of the students were dancing.

“Stop keeping to yourselves and get out there!” Serina shouted at you, giving your butt a light spank, making you lurch forward. Making sure to not lose your balance on your heels, you stepped up to the table before holding your hand out for Cedric to take.

He looked around to your friends bashfully before taking your hand and standing up on the table next to you. You let yourself get lost in the beat for a moment before taking Cedric’s face in your hands and kissing him on the lips, in front of everyone. You could hear some of the tipsy students whistle and clap. You and Cedric pulled back from the kiss before giving each other a smile.

“Yeah! Get it!” You heard one of your friends screaming from your side before handing you two shot glasses. You took one for yourself while you passed the other one over to Cedric.

“It’s Firewhiskey! It’s that one we stole from Snape!” One of them said. Of course you remembered the thrill of sneaking into his classroom with your friends and finding that bottle in his desk drawer.

“Bottoms up!” You held your shot glass up to Cedric, and you made a toast before you both downed your drinks in one sip.

After putting down the glasses, you resumed dancing with Cedric, with the burning sensation of the drink making you feel warm along with the boost of confidence.

You and Cedric did more than just kiss this time. As he parted his mouth, you traced your tongue along his bottom and top lip, licking the alcohol.

Another chorus of loud whistles and claps soon followed, this time accompanied by intelligible sentences.

“Is that Diggory? I never thought they’d go for each other!”

“Aren’t they sleeping with each other?!”

“They’re totally sleeping with each other!”

“I told you so!”

All that teenage gossip became white noise to you, making it easy for you to drown out thanks to the alcohol. You did not care about anyone else at that moment other than the one person who had his body pressed against you. You didn’t care about what other people would say about seeing you making out with the captain of your house’s rival Quidditch team. All you cared about was having a good time with Cedric.

“Woohoo! Show us what you got!” Came from the direction where your friends were standing.

Feeling encouraged by what you just heard, you turned around and took both of Cedric’s hands and placed them on your waist. You may or may not have purposely bumped your ass against your dance partner’s frontside a few times.

Your friends giggled and cheered some more as they caught onto what you were doing and it seemed Cedric did too. “Do you think anyone would bother us if we went somewhere more private?” What was that saying you heard? Great minds think alike? You smirked at that thought as you stepped down onto the floor with Cedric following you.

“Ooh! I see someone wants some alone time!” You heard one of your friends teasing you.

“Shouldn’t you be up there? It’s your turn.” You countered back sassily as you showed them all forward. After your group of friends turned back and winked at you, you took Cedric’s hand and led him to your room.

After reaching behind Cedric to lock the door to your room, you pressed him against the wood while keeping your lips locked onto his. He let you take the lead, parting his lips to grant your tongue entrance into his mouth. He let out a low groan as your palms delicately slid over his bulge. Heat pulsed between your legs at feeling how hard he was already.

By the time you broke off the kiss, you were both panting heavily despite having barely touched each other. At least in comparison to what you were thinking of doing to him.

Wordlessly, you took his hand and led him over to where your bed was. You continued making out with him as you pushed him down by the shoulders so that he could sit down on the mattress. He held onto your waist as you straddled yourself over him.

You moaned out Cedric’s name as you could feel his erection against you. The dress you were wearing was so short that it completely rode up your thighs with the way you were positioned, so that you were able to get a lot of friction against your clothed pussy.

Cedric gripped onto your waist tighter at the same time you started grinding yourself against him, his bulge and the front seam of his trousers sliding along your clit and then your folds in the most delicious way possible. But that wasn’t enough. Your insatiable appetite for pleasure wouldn’t leave you satisfied just from dry humping.

“Please, Cedric.” You breathed out in a hushed voice, borderline moaning. “I want to cum so fucking bad. I can tell you do too.” You cupped him through his clothes and gave him a squeeze.

In response, Cedric brought his hand around your neck and brought his lips to yours before asking, “How do you want to do it?”

You didn’t reply with words, instead pushing him down gently until his back hit the mattress and pillows. He silently watched as you undid his belt and zipper, then freed his cock from its confines.

“I can’t wait to have this inside me.” You purred equally as slow as your fingers had moved along the shaft. He let out a groan as you left a light kiss on the tip, red from all the blood rushing there.

You let the tip ease in between your lips before savoring the taste with your tongue running along the slit. You bobbed your head a few times, batting your lashes at Cedric while he was brushing your hair out of your face.

After a few minutes of letting his dick in and out of your throat and past your lips, the silence was broken by a plop as you let your saliva connect with his precum. You were oddly fascinated by that string of liquid. It reminded you of how easily the tip would slide into you now that it was wet, and thinking about it only made another rush of heat gather between your legs.

“I’m gonna fuck you now.” You said into Cedric’s ear quietly as you leaned forward in your straddle position. In response, he propped himself up onto his elbows and struck a peck on your lips.

You turned around and swiped your hair to one side so that Cedric could watch as you unzipped your dress, slowly revealing your skin to him, teasing him. Once you had thrown your dress over your head and discarded it, you knew this was where the real fun could begin.

With you on top of Cedric, you let him slowly guide your hips as you took a seat on his cock. You breathed a sigh of relief at the welcome feeling of fullness stuffing your cunt. Throughout the times you slept with Cedric, you’d become addicted to having him inside you, stretching out your wet, aching pussy, only to have it be fed by his hot cum. In the aftermath, you’d be transfixed by the sight of the white liquid pouring down your legs.

Grabbing the fabric around his thighs, you slowly bounced up and down, along with having one of his hands squeezing a fist full of your ass before sliding to where your waist curved inward.

As you opened your eyes, you caught sight of yourself on the vanity and wardrobe mirrors around the room. Your breasts were exposed, bouncing along with the rest of your body, and the duplicates of your reflection reminded you that Cedric could most definitely see your frontside too.

It was the knowledge of how he could watch you fuck yourself that tempted you to show him more, let him know just how slutty you could be.

“You’re so gorgeous.” Cedric grunted from behind you as he ran the back of his fingers along your spine, causing you to moan slightly at the ticklish, yet somehow erotic sensation. You could never get tired of hearing him call you gorgeous no matter how often. It made you feel special, reminded you of his reputation as a good boy, which is what turned you on about him in the first place.

You took another peek at the mirror across the room, and saw the crumpled, pleasure-stricken look on your face. Wanting to give Cedric a better show, you made it a point to stick out your tits and flick your thumbs and forefingers along both nipples, hardening the peaks, which heightened the pleasure and heat in your cunt.

It seemed Cedric got a little jealous of you having all the fun since he snaked his own hand under yours, cupping your breast. He started to mimic what he saw you doing to yourself with your other hand with his own.

There was a stark contrast between touching yourself with your own hand versus having Cedric touch you. Whereas your palms were smaller, fingers shorter and more slender with a softer touch, he had larger palms that covered more surface, longer, thicker fingers that had that a certain roughness that was typical of men, and his blunt fingernails which he kept much shorter than yours allowed him to maneuver his fingertips in ways you couldn’t with your manicured nails.

In addition, it was far more exciting with someone else doing it to you as there was the anticipation and the thrill of unpredictability.

“Oh… fuck.” You bit your lip, too engrossed in the way Cedric was touching you that you soon grew bored of your other hand, moving it to your clit instead.

“Let me get that for you.” He placed his free hand on top of yours and guided it to his leg. Balancing yourself on him, you took a quick look down as his index finger was pressed against the swollen nub between your legs.

Jolting forward as even the slightest touch triggered your walls to squeeze harder around his stiff cock, a slew of profanities slipped past your lips.

“I got you.” You heard Cedric’s deep, comforting voice, which you didn’t realize was pushing you towards an orgasm at first.

“Fuck. Cedric… I can’t! I-I’m about-” As you were on the verge of sobbing, your words weren’t making sense. Without thinking about anything else but your impending orgasm, you bounced harder on his cock, willing for it to go deeper, to reach as much as it could in places you could never get to with your fingers.

Soon, you felt something hot spilling inside you as Cedric’s grip on your breast tightened, followed by your walls and pussy lips fluttering around him.

As you continued to scream into your hand, you savored each rope of hot cum that was spilling inside you. On the other hand, Cedric wasn’t much quieter than you were.

Soon, you both had calmed down. Even when his cock had softened inside of you, he didn’t pull out, instead using it to keep his cum plugged in you. How you loved feeling so full like this after sex.

Carefully sitting up, he encircled his arm around your frontside, squishing your breasts together as he hoisted himself up so that you were both upright with you still on his lap.

You were in the middle of catching your breath when you felt his lips pepper kisses from your neck to your shoulder.

“I should probably get back to my dorm now.” He whispered, letting teeth latch onto your earlobe.

“Right. Since you’re such a good boy.” You emphasized the last two words in a patronizing tone, as a way to tease him.

Being careful not to get his uniform dirty, you quickly lifted yourself off of him.

You let Cedric ogle your still naked body standing in front of him. Maintaining eye contact, you ran your fingers along the inside of your thigh, sighing as they came into contact with the sticky mess he left behind. With wide blinking eyes, he stared as you dipped each finger into your mouth, sucking and tasting him.

Of course, you couldn’t say goodbye without kissing him on the lips.

Maybe it was time he got a taste of himself. Literally.

[wetcatspellcaster]

2024 fic wrapped

I was tagged by @cursedhaglette to do this tag-game, but I found the focus on stats made me a little uncomfortable! (also, no one needs to know how many words I wrote while having multiple breakdowns last year, truly).

But, I didn't want to ignore Mia's tag! so instead, I'm going to take @cinnamontails-ff wrapped tag-game, just bc I sympathise with the logic and I like this set of questions a lot more!

Thank you Cin for coming up with questions that don't focus so much on productivity. And thank you again, Mia, for including me in the original game :) hopefully this is an acceptable substitute!

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

I guess, what it feels like to be a 'popular' author - and the answer is, 'both good and bad, in fact, extremely mixed'. Obviously, many parts of it are wonderful: more people interacted with my work in the height of the BG3 fandom than I've ever had before, I felt like my writing mattered and I enjoyed every conversation I had about it. I also felt under a lot more scrutiny, very hyperaware of how I acted in 'public' (ie. on this blog), and aware of the people I'd disappoint with the directions I took my stories and what I chose to include. I also had to watch the baffling half-life of modern fandom! BG3's 6 month peak and 1yr trough was wild to me, as someone who joined dragon age 8yrs after the game was released. But I've decided I actually really like the middle-road of interaction, with much less noise and dedicated, recurring readers who I recognise and who make me smile and laugh every single time they comment or tag my work. I'll probably never experience whatever the fuck Pieces was ever again, and I'm honestly... ok with that, currently? Not to sound awful, but I'm not sure I liked it lmao.

In terms of my writing, my biggest learning point was "you're good at this, actually". Chanting this to myself in the mirror while I white-knuckle the sink.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I'm genuinely not certain. Pieces was certainly my most ambitious story yet, but a lot of the outlining of that took place in 2023 so it feels like the development happened then... though I suppose landing the dismount was something I worked very hard to do. I guess the main development this year was that a lot of what I wrote was extremely, extremely angsty. I wrote Pieces, I wrote This Is Not A Love Story. and I gave Rosalie to Orin :))))) this doesn't necessarily surprise me, given the way my writing often reflects things I'm dealing with in my life, and I've been trying to both recover from - and desparately stave off a relapse into - depression. I think that I can see why I keep making characters into the worst versions of themselves (this goes for Astarion, Rosalie - bc Pieces Rosalie is NOT in a good place, Gale and my Durge) and then watching them claw their way back to happiness in the hope of proving to myself that that's possible.

But jfc, it all got a little heavy. I've decided that 2025 is the Year of the Rom Com™.

Good writing habits?

Committing myself exclusively to what I want to read and sticking to my guns - which means I actually finish the thing, rather than getting into my own head about it.

Stretching my comfort zone a little (writing something vaguely smutty, writing something very different in style, switching genres for a bit) without losing my own voice.

Not falling into any jealousy/existential crises about my own writing, which I guess is much easier when you're experiencing a bout of 'success', but I've managed to keep it up even after the success began tailing off :)

I wrote a lot of words last year. I'm not putting the stat down but god. It was a lot.

Bad writing habits?

Overwriting everything. Everything. All the time. Party Favours was so short!!! I used to write novellas!!! Why are my chapters so fucking long now?????

Having multiple fic wips when I promised myself I'd wind down fanfic and start writing original work again :')

I wrote a lot of words last year. I think I did this bc I was extremely unhappy, and productivity is how I define myself. when I feel bad, I write and post bc it makes me feel good. And I felt very bad this year. So anyway, I think my wordcount is both a good thing and also a wee cry for help :'))))

Favorite thing you wrote?

Chapter Twenty-Three of Pieces (Mephistopheles consultation and my Ascended!Astarion meta-reveal)

Chapter Four of Cooler Than Me (putting the blorbos in a formal-wear situation)

I also liked my sex scene in Pieces :') it was tame but it was written for me specifically x

Favorite reads?

for fic!

long summer days can lead to lazy vices by @pouroverpaloma

eyes like fire by demonsbanebard

only once by @bearhugsandshrugs

and of course stitched into your sleeve by the bestie (@violacae)!!! my first ever gift fic!!!

for literature!

The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by HG Parry

Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan

Deeplight by Frances Hardinge

Biggest win?

god. I'm endlessly grateful for my gift fic and for my fanart, but... it's got to be bookbindings. I used to daydream, about somebody ever wanting to have my fic bound, but I thought it was impossible and would never happen! I now know of 3 copies of my work that exist in the world :D and the ones I've seen were fucking gorgeous, like oh my fucking god.

I am also very proud I finished Pieces! It was my most ambitious project, and writing the ending presented even more challenges than I expected - as I discovered how much you write yourself into a corner when you resoul Astarion. I still haven't managed to read the completed work in full yet, but I'm proud it exists :)

Goals for the new year?

finish outstanding wips, and then see where my writing takes me next. I want to write original work, but I also don't want to make it a resolution. As long as I continue to enjoy writing, that's what matters most to me!

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times?

I think I use '[x character] froze' a lot, but rather than focusing on my repetitions I want to focus on some of my favourite turns of phrase that I managed to pull from the ether! :)

'before her brief courtship with death threatened to become a commitment' - from the risk and the reward

'We can all still be butchered. We cut away the parts of ourselves to make us fit' - from this is a love story.

"He played an androgynous, morally-grey vampire, of indeterminate gender! In a nice coat! Anyone who had two working eyes and a relevant Kinsey Score read the porn, back in the day!” - from cooler than me

What are you excited for in the new year?

act 3 astarion characterisation for honest lie! the first big romance moment in cooler than me! and then just romcoms! 2025 is the year of the romcom! I want to write exclusively happy things!!!!

tagging: @cursedhaglette (as it's a different set of questions lmao), @imscissorbladez, @violacae, @eraserspiral, @scaryanneee, @sitting-in-the-sink, @pricemarshfield, @pouroverpaloma and anyone else who wants to give this a whirl. anyone is welcome, and if you tag me in it I'll share x

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Nick x GN!Reader word count: 970 a/n: what i wouldn't give for this idiot to teach me everything he knows, because i just know he's picked up a few tricks (and infections) along his way... cw: reader is afab, inexperience, loss of virginity, first kiss, dirty talk kinda 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

Nick was speechless, for once, in the face of your confession. Shocked at how you had said it so passively, how you were willing to be so vulnerable with a man who took everything anyone said to him to use as ammunition when it suited him, whether as a serious threat or as playful teasing.

“Are you… are you kidding me?”

“Does that sound like something I’d joke about? Is my situation funny in any way to you?”

He raised his hands quickly, averting his eyes from your intense gaze as he let you repeat yourself, listening intently to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood.

“I can’t really find the joke when I’m so pissed off, y’know? What kind of bad luck do you need to have to be a virgin at the end of the world?”

“Yeah, no, that’s… That sucks. But you can always remedy that situation.”

In your peripheral you caught a glimpse of that signature Nick smirk, one that seemed playful and cruel all at the same time.

“Oh yeah, because there’s tonnes of eligible partners walking around these days, huh?”

“Listen, being picky got you in this mess, you wanna keep that up?”

You were read to scold him as you turned his way, about to correct him and tell him off for making assumptions, but the words stuttered to a halt in your mouth as you caught his expression. Eyebrows raised expectantly, smirk turning into a sneer as he waited for you to catch on. And when you did, you let out an exclaimed, short laugh.

“I’m up for it if you are. There’s nothing better to do out here.”

“Oh wow. I’m very flattered.”

Your tone was flat, unamused, and as you turned away from him, you felt his hand reach for your arm, grabbing you and keeping you close to him on the roof of the abandoned motel where you intended to spend the night.

“No, no, no, hey! Wait! Come on, that’s not what I meant… I’m just trying to… make it less of an event. It’s casual. No big deal. One friend helping another.”

Eyeing him up, you turned your body back around to him.

“No big deal? Just casual? Promise?”

“Of course, completely! I’ve done this so many times. Just a one-night stand… My experience speaks for itself. Besides, rooftop at sunset? The world all ours? Can’t think of a better time to knock that one off the bucket list.”

“Well… tell me what you’re going to do, first.”

The request flustered him, something you’d never seen before in the man who had always remained cool, calm and collected in the face of even your more monstrous enemies.

“I think we should kiss first. Helps ease the tension, makes the next steps easier.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone either…”

“Fuck me…”

Nick could feel his cock twitching, and he shifted to hide the obvious tenting at the front of his white pants. The thought of you, so sweet and innocent, being corrupted by him, completely at his will, eager to learn, eager to have him show you everything he knew… it was enough to make him lose control of himself. He had to stay focused. So he took a deep breath and continued.

“Ok then. Kiss first. Nothing fancy. No tongues to start. Soft and gentle. Then, I guess we should keep our clothes on as much as we can… Which I have to admit is a little disappointing, because I have been admiring your ample physique when I’ve had a spare moment… But we don’t want to be caught off guard. But I could pull your pants down a little, see what we’re working with.”

“Oh my god.”

He blushed, immediately trying to smooth over his clumsy wording.

“Sorry, I just mean a little foreplay never hurt anybody. Even people who are desperate to get to the main event. Plus, it’ll be a little taste of what’s to come if I use my fingers first.”

“Oh? Are they comparable size-wise then?”

He snorted, scoffing at the ridiculous insinuation.

“No, it absolutely is not. But I wouldn’t want to hurt a pretty thing like you by barrelling into it, even if you have plenty of cushioning where it’s best to have it…”

He was distracted again, focusing on your body, the curves and rolls that he’d thought about running his hands over each night as he tried to fall asleep.

“Nick…?”

Distracted once again, he scolded himself quietly and tried to get back on track.

“Right… once you’re ready, I’ll just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know how to word it.”

His cheeks were reddening, brighter than before.

“Are you embarrassed, Nick?”

“No! It’s just hard to figure out how to word it in a way that isn’t just me telling you that once that tight hole of yours is wet enough, I’ll spread you open, push my cock inside of you and start fucking me until you cum quick like the desperate virgin you are. Doesn’t sound that romantic, does it?”

“That… actually sounds good.”

“Really? Well, what are we waiting for then?”

As Nick leaned in, his lips close enough to yours that you could almost feel them on you, a screech echoed across the car park behind you, the warning sign of impending doom in the form of whatever creature might have inadvertently stumbled upon you both. As you looked to Nick, he cocked his gun and stood up, offering you a helping hand as he spoke.

“Looks like you might need to wait a little longer.”

In response to his mean-spirited wink, you offered a sarcastic smile, more a grimace.

“Hopefully I find someone better before we’re alone again, then.”

His smile widened, the flirtatious teasing only securing his desire to make sure he was the one who cured what ailed you.

[cosmicstarlatte]

Reality Show: Dateables (Obey Me!)

Diavolo and the others agreed to become a part of a new demon reality show that revolves around their lives.

»Characters: Dateables // ->[Click here for Part 1: Demon Bros]

»Tags: Shitpost/Humor, Bulleted Style, Solomon On His BS LMAO, Slight Mentions of MC

»Notes: Now I do, thanks for asking Anon!♡ // CM= Crew Member

Diavolo:

"Haha! Make sure you get my good side yeah!?"

He was ecstatic, this was the most exciting thing he's done in a while

His camera crew was nervous at first but then relaxed when they saw how easy-going the prince was

Then got nervous again when Barbatos threatened them to remind them who they're in the presence of

Filming him kept them on their toes, it was either going to be an easy normal day or a chaotic one

[Camera zooms in on Dia's photo album and zooms out to an excited Dia]

"Oh, oh! And this is me and Lucifer at the carnival! And this one is me and MC! And here's us all together!"

CM: "My lord may we ask how you feel about MC?"

[Camera pans to Dia reaching for a journal titled MC Fanfiction ]

"I'm glad you asked."

Barbatos shut that down real quick and made them cut that last part that day

[Camera cuts to Dia doing selfie POV and running from Barbatos and the crew] "-AND LUCIFER HAS THE MOST OUTRAGEOUS B-"

[Camera cuts momentarily, flashes of Lucifer and Dia struggling]

Naturally, the demons loved the prince even more after filming ended, it was nice to see another side of him

Barbatos:

"Delete that. Understood? 🙂"

Hated the entire show idea and tried to talk Diavolo out of it however he lost that battle

His camera crew was scared the entire time but filming him was easy for the most part

Viewers liked seeing the day to day things the butler did for the prince like preparing meals and organizing events

[Camera shakes as they trail behind Barbatos]

"You can't follow me into my room."

CM: "But the contract states-"

"🙂"

(nervous) CM: "Wow what's that!?" [Shakily zooms in on a clean empty corner]

[Distant camera keeps panning between Barbatos and a rat having a stand off just outside the castle grounds... it runs at him]

"TELL THE YOUNG MASTER IT WAS AN HONOR-"

CM: (Scares the rat in the opposite direction)

[Camera cuts to a disheveled Barb up in a tree]

"...Do you like pastries? Luxurious rare teas? How do you like to be rewarded?"

Simeon:

"Um...hello. I'm Simeon, an exchange student from the Celestial Realm."

Didn't mind being filmed but wasn't sure how to act so:

Main Character energy, he talked like he was on livestream, very show and tell; exactly what the show needed

His crew had a pleasant time with him and viewers loved the angel

[Camera zooms out and pans around his room, focusing on a sheep plushie]

"So this is where I live...and these are my things. I love to write in my spare time!"

[Camera pans to him looking out his window]

"You can see the House of Lamentation from this spot. Always seems to be on fire on Thursdays. Explosions are Saturdays. (BOOM) Ah, right on time. (sips tea)"

[Camera quickly zooms in on his shoulders and hips losing some focus] He's unaware of the fanservice he provides

CM: "Do angels ever get crushes, are they allowed? There's rumors with you and MC-"

"Um, well, you see, oh HEY LUKE! Sorry guys I promised I'd help him with baking!"

[Camera cuts to him pulling an annoyed Luke out the room]

CM to CM: "Can angels ever lie!? Is that allowed!?"

Luke:

"For the last time, I'm not a chihuahua!"

(whispering) CM to CM: "Heh, the rumors are true. He's got a little bark in him!"

Luke was nervous about filming but Simeon helped

His crew had a hard time with him; not that Luke was difficult but more so the crew had to watch what they say or how they act around the young angel

[Camera zooms in through the kitchen door and catches Luke dropping a whole bowl of batter]

They caught him saying his first bad word

Demons liked this 👍 Simeon did not 👎

CM: "That's too high, let me get that for you."

"I can do it myself, thanks!"

[Camera pans to Luke falling, scraping his knee and tearing up]

(sighing) CM: "Come here, I got a band-aid."

Solomon:

"Is this for a cooking show?"

Would not listen and made it a cooking show

His crew rolled with it anyway since it was easy to film him

"Welcome to Solo Cooking!"

Viewers were a little confused but continued watching

[Camera tries to focus on the fresh dish he made]

CM: "Oh that looks good can we try it?"

"By all means!"

His crew had to take a few days off from nearly dying so production moved slowly

One of the CMs ended up quitting and suing but Barb took care of it

[Camera catches Solo calling & inviting MC for dinner]

Out of good faith, one of the crew took his phone and chucked it

"...You could've just said you and the crew wanted an invitation? There's enough-"

His entire crew: (start running)

Viewers were a little disappointed, they thought they'd see more of the sorcerers life

There was one clip though

[Camera catches Solomon and the rarely seen Levi hanging out and laughing]

For some reason that clip became popular and was deemed precious

⬦You might also like: MC's Livestream