#i know i could have worked more on it but neither the paper nor my sankty could take it

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Every time Prapai gives Sky medicine, he's narcoleptic inside 5 minutes.

[peoplearepeoplearepretty]

Chester Bennington!

This was a tough one but i really wanted to do smth for him, Linkin Park was a huge part of my growing up and i saw some videos of shows and i just knew i had to

Hope is an acceptable tribute!

[thelaststarfalling]

just once i'd like to complete one (1) bigger project that i can actually be proud of

[fillinforlater]

SULLied MINd

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Seol Yonna (Sullyoon)

Length: 10.228 words

Tags: art-project all nighter turns threesome, secret crushes, softly making out, stripping, striptease, shy to bold, double blowjob, worshiping cock and balls, cunnilingus, fingering, clit play, facial, cumsluts, virginity taken, missionary, sweat, stocking kink, riding, rimming, stand and carry, cum drinking, lots of perverted thoughts, lucky!you

TW: I barely finished this in time, so the editing is not that in depth lol

Inspiration: Minju and Sullyoon just go together very well, dunno if @sinswithpleasure was the first to give this idea, but the pairing definitely comes from The Bunker... the rest is my own craziness

(A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GIRL! Happy Minju day to everyone, I hope you enjoy this fic which was supposed to be like around 4-5k...)

“No, you gotta put it in here, not in there!”

“I-I can’t, my hand is too big for the hole.”

“Then try using your fingers, that should work.”

“Eh, okay, but you need to hold onto the legs, otherwise it’ll fall over.”

“Let me get in between the—ah, Minju, watch out! Now my hand is all white.”

“Oops, Sorry.”

The struggle behind you is real, the struggle in front of you—the unfinished essay due tomorrow that is—is real too, but those spoken words cannot be real. You know exactly what Minju and Sullyoon are referring to when talking about white stuff and holes and size. After all, they are working hard to wrap up the project all of you have procrastinated on for so long and it’s bound to be a mess.

You start to trip over your own unspoken words. The lewdness in your mind is unfathomable, a mess can be a mess without mess being the wild, chaotic, imaginary sex that seems to creep into your brain more and more.

No, focus. It’s just a mess because Sullyoon and Minju still don’t know how to put together the human-sized post-modern sculpture of a robot made from cardboard, newspapers and glue��white glue, that drips from Sullyoon’s hand as she tries to shove a painted cardboard cylinder into—

You did it again. Your thoughts are betraying you.

“What are you looking at?” Sullyoon nags, when she spots your dreamy gaze on her hand. Wait, are you drooling? What the fuck is happening?

“N-nothing, nothing,” you quickly turn around and look at the pathetic pile of words that neither make sense nor reach the required minimum amount to pass. “It’s just that—you two are too loud, I can’t concentrate.”

Minju throws you a concerned look, while Sullyoon aggressively wipes her hands on a paper towel and hits you over the head with a piece of cardboard. Now there’s some stickiness in your hair

“Oh yeah? You’re still the furthest behind—I’ll do the writing, I can’t build for shit—that’s what you said and you are still not finished.”

“Sully, please, don’t scream,” Minju groans and gets on her knees in between the sculptures legs, her head on level with what could be its crotch. “Let’s just focus, okay? Can you give me the, uhm, white stuff? I need to fix the butt.”

And now Minju is spreading glue all over the—it’s better you look away and focus on the task ahead. The essay should go over all the different periods of, uhm. Or maybe the various stages during, some-thing? Perhaps the teacher wants a concise summary of how you came up with the idea and created the illusion of Sullyoon sticking her fingers in Minju’s pussy and making her face contort into—

“You’re drooling!” Sullyoon shouts and hits you again.

“Sully, please!” Minju tries to calm the situation down.

“What? Can I not be angry that this lazy ass is just daydreaming—”

“Sully, language! And stop screaming!”

“You’re both screaming and shouting, how should I concentrate?”

“You—”

Sullyoon is about to throw hands. Though they both might give off a similar reserved, kind, beauty vibe to the unsuspecting outsider, Sullyoon and Minju are quite different. It shows now more than ever, when Sullyoon slams her fist on the desk next to you and stares you down into the chair, while Minju sits on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, head lowered in defeat and annoyance.

“Stand up,” Sullyoon orders, her grip on your biceps harsh, as if she tried to scar you with her nails. “I’ll do it, save the project while you can fuck off.”

“The fuck?” you shout back, face angry. Sullyoon’s hand is slapped away and you’re about to fight more if she doesn’t back off. “You won’t do anything, and don’t curse at me. Who do you think you are?”

“Guys—”

“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable!” Sullyoon interrupts Minju and opens her adorable eyes wide in rage. “You’re gonna fail us with that—pathetic excuse of a text.”

“It would be better if you could keep your mouth shut, Sullyoon, and let me finish this in peace. Also, the robot is still not upright. If he falls over, Miss Kwon will rip our heads off.” You can barely hold yourself together. The only positive thoughts for Sullyoon, if you can call them that, are the lewd ones, those imagining her naked, her navel exposed, her pussy bare.

“Guys, I—!”

“Oh and that’s my fault? I bet your drool will make it unstable. I swear if you turn around one more time—”

“Then what? You’ll beat me, assault me? I think Miss Kwon won’t give you a better grade then—”

An ear-shattering boom. The door is shut, the door to Minju’s room—Minju, who is not with you anymore. For such a kind and bubbly girl, this fight must have killed her. She was the one suggesting that you all do the project at her place, with her parents out of town. She made cookies beforehand and had something planned for dinner too.

“I-I think we overdid it,” Sullyoon sums it up with an usually soft whisper and you nod in shame. Minju has been nothing short of an excellent host for the two of you.

Suddenly, Sullyoon’s phone rings. She doesn’t get time to answer it however, as the caller seems to end the call within a moment's notice.

“I’ll be out, gimme a second,” Sullyoon says and runs to the door.

“Sure.” She didn’t even hear that, that’s how quiet your voice was. Outside, you hear Sullyoon hurrying down the stairs. There is turmoil in your head about what you ought to do. Should you just sit here and wait for them to come back? Is it better if you go downstairs as well, apologize to Minju, so the three of you can continue with the project? Should you continue alone, perhaps?

You decide on option four: sneak towards the door, carefully open it and then lay low while trying to pick up what they are talking about. They surely aren’t fighting anymore, but their voices are loud enough for you to clearly hear every word.

“It was stupid of me, okay? Can we go back upstairs and finish our sculpture?” Sullyoon asks with loving care.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” Minju sniffles. “This was embarrassing.”

“What do you mean? You weren’t embarrassing, we were. This fight was—”

“No, you don’t get it, Sully!”

Now things seem to get heated. You can hear Minju jumping up from a chair, while Sullyoon gasps.

“Then explain it to me, Minju!”

“Okay, screw it.

“I like him, okay? Two years, I have waited two years for us to finally be in a project—and now you two are fighting! You are ruining my chances with him!”

The silence is deafening. If you weren’t lying prone on the floor already, your knees would have collapsed and you would’ve landed in the same spot anyways. What a revelation! For the first time in your life, you believe that either your ears are deceiving you or that you’re in the most lucid dream imaginable. Never before has a girl had feelings for you—

“This can’t be real,” Sullyoon suddenly laughs out loud. “You like this guy?”

“Wha-what do you mean?” Minju hisses back, whiny, like she’s about to cry. “He is very-very handsome a-and I’ve seen his abs. He is also smart, have you heard him talk about history? It’s so attractive.”

“Yeah, of course I have, he is like talking non-stop in history class.” Sullyoon’s tone has shifted from shocked and dismissive to a bit dreamy, almost like she is admiring you. “And the way he pronounces all these foreign words, or how he gives it his all in PE—”

“Wait a minute,” Minju interjects and you can hear the grin as it forms on her face. “You like him too, Sully!”

“Not anymore, not after his lazy ass didn’t do a damn thing during our project.” Another second of silence, then both of them start laughing hysterically, one is stomping on the floor, the other tries to cover her mouth to muffle the loudness.

You’ve heard enough. No, seriously. At this point, you could die happily. Two of the prettiest girls in the entire school like you and both of them are in your project group which will surely last until the next morning at your current pace. What else could you want more? Countless guys would kill to have such an opportunity.

But you want more.

“Crazy, we have the same crush. Oh, have you seen the pictures of his abs?” Minju asks excitedly after the two have finished their laughing fit.

“No, but I was about to ask: how did you get those?” Sullyoon gasps again and then giggles while both start to whisper. The whispers are too quiet, you can barely pick up any syllables. This marks the perfect moment to get back in front of the PC so they won’t catch you eavesdropping when they come back up. It also gives you time to think about what you want to do.

The image of them and their crush on you hasn’t fully settled yet, however, you’re already planning how this night might continue, what might happen, what you should say. Unlike during exams, you don’t feel pressure or tension that’s about to crush you—there is just excitement and a feeling of being loved.

“Hey, we-we are back,” Minju says a few minutes later, her face all red when she enters her room. Sullyoon follows after her, her hair a bit messier than before. Unlike Minju, she is able to hide her feelings for you quite well, now that you know.

“Hey,” you respond with a soft voice. “Look, Minju, I’m so sorry about earlier. I should’ve done my job. I won’t let you guys down this time, I promise. Sullyoon, if you want to, you can write the text. Sorry that I was so rude earlier.”

“I-it’s fine.” Both their voices seem to break when you stand up and give each an apologetic bow. With your new knowledge, you assume that this is a good sign, like selecting the correct dialogue option in a video game.

“Are you sure you want to switch, though?” Sullyoon asks and you nod.

“It’s settled then.” Minju grabs a wrist from you and a wrist from Sullyoon and has this adorable, bright smile on her beaming face. “Let’s not fight anymore and finish this dang project!”

“You are absolutely right, Minju!” you gleefully say. “You two are pretty awesome, so I’ll give it my all.”

Both their breaths pick up in pace; who would have thought that you could make the hearts of girls flutter with just a bright, sunshine smile. Sullyoon and Minju quickly dive back into work, ears still red, and you pretend to be completely unaware. Unaware of their feelings, unaware of their hopes, unaware of their—potentially sullied thoughts.

But could those two angelic looking girls really have the same impurities in their minds as you do? Can it match your fantasies of one of them admitting their love to you tonight, you kissing, cuddling and fucking secretly in the bathroom, while the other continues to work on the project? Maybe they have similar thought, but did they ever consider—

“Can you, uhm, hand me the, eh—” Minju stutters and taps her temple in thought. She looks adorable doing so.

“Do you need the model? Some cardboard? Scissors?” you ask back but Minju shakes her head, a bit abashed that she lacks the focus to say which item she needs. Thinking of scissors, your fantasy does not stop at some one-on–one lovemaking. You’d want the other to join, all three of your tongues in a make out session while your hand is in the back of their panties. You want to fondle their butts and hear them moan before they would scissor, their wet pussies rubbing up and down your manhood until you explode.

“I need the… white stuff.”

“You need the white stuff—from me?”

A quiet whisper, Sullyoon could not have picked it up. Minju halts for a second, then her face turns beet red and she hides it behind her palms, while her eyes keep looking at your awfully-well played innocent expression. Worriedly, you reach for her face and Minju gasps. What does she expect? Certainly not what follows.

“Oh, there is some glue in your hair, Minju. Guess we should wash out the white stuff~”

With that said, you grab her hand and pull her out of her bedroom. To the surprise of Sullyoon, whose questions go unheard, you and Minju enter the upper floor bathroom. There you immediately find a wet towel and start to rub Minju’s hair, and with every second that you dishevel her hair, you also seem to dishevel her mind.

Minju is perplexed, trembling, unable to react to you, especially when you inch closer and really focus on that annoying spot. The two of you forgot to turn on the bathroom lights, so there is only the dim moonlight to reveal to you the absolute dream that are Minju’s eyes: full of love, uncertainty and want.

“I think I got it out,” you finally whisper and drop the towel. “Sorry for messing up your hair.”

Minju smiles softly: “N-no, thank you. You might have saved it, a-actually.”

“Minju—” A moment of silence, full of purpose, of tension, but you bask in it. You can hear Minju’s heart racing and if you’re honest, the muscle in your chest is pumping like crazy as well. “You, you are very beautiful, one of the prettiest girls on this planet.”

“Re-really!?”

“Yes. I wish I could

“Kiss your lips; they look so soft.”

They are so soft, no doubt about it, especially when they accept you so willingly at first and then won’t let go when you try to pull back a little. Minju is on cloud nine and she wants to stay. Her adorable hands hold onto your sleeves, while you hold the back of her head securely in the palm of your hand. There is no tongue movement, there is no tongue movement needed, because it all comes together for her—

A fairy tale moment, out of nowhere, for the girl with her crush.

But your play isn’t over. After a short while, you regretfully remove yourself from her lips and continue to hold her close, hand on the small of her back. When you look down you are greeted by a look—this look of mesmerized love, with teary eyes of joy and panting lips of desire on Minju’s flawless features. How could you want more?

This is how mankind moves forward: by wanting what they don’t yet have.

“Minju,” you take a deep breath and close your eyes. “I—before we continue, and I really do want to—I have to tell you something.”

“Y-yes?”

“I like you, I really, really like you.

“But you know how multiple people can have the same crush? I, my heart, has this issue that—I, I like multiple people! I can never escape it, there is nothing I can do. That doesn’t mean that my love isn’t real—I just want to be honest with you.”

Minju, in the midst of all these surprises and twists and turns for her, looks surprisingly calm and nods carelessly. Of course she is a bit dazed, after all, your lips were just on hers and she can take them back just by getting on her toes, but this should still be a bit weird for her. At least, that is what you assumed.

“I-I don’t care,” she suddenly blurts out and her arms wrap around you tightly. “Why should I judge you? There are probably so many pretty girls out there. I-I’m just happy that you… noticed me.”

“Are you for real?” In a sudden surge of happiness, you lift Minju up and spin her around. “You are so wonderful, I know why I fell in love with you.”

This should wrap up your Oscar performance—well, it’s already beyond that. At this point the feelings for Minju feel more than just acted. How could they not? She is gorgeous, light, her lips are tender, her character adorable and you cannot escape what your heart is telling you: love her, because she loves you.

There is however still—

“Pl-please! Please love me too!”

A loud scream, and Sullyoon bursts into the room. You may not be able to see the correct colors of her face, but you know she is either pale because Minju ‘stole’ you from her or she is red all over because she thinks there is a chance, a tiny chance that you also like her. Nonetheless, all these thoughts become irrelevant, because Minju almost collapses from shock. You catch her before she is able to hit her head on the sink.

The bathroom door still rattles, but the three of you just stare at one another, eyes wide open. The situation is so absurd, you must be dreaming, dead or in heaven—all at the same time, Minju’s entire existence is in your arms and Sullyoon seems willing to join her. She is close, her hands folded as if she is begging for your love. Her breath is hot, right in your face and so unsteady.

“Sullyoon.” Minju’s voice is faint, not even a whisper, but it’s loud. It’s both a statement and a question, a question directed at you. Is this what you were talking about earlier? Could it really be that the two who have a crush on you, would not have to fight? To put it very simply: Do you love Sullyoon too?

At least tonight, you do.

“I—

“I do, actually.” Those few words have you out of breath, before you can continue, Sullyoon has taken a spot in your arms next to Minju. The speed with which your dreams come true is mind boggling, but you play it cool and hold both of them close, an arm around each of their waists.

“You mean it?” Sullyoon has never sounded this cute, not in class, not during breaks and definitely not tonight. Who can resist her with those pouty lips that adorn silky smooth, perfectly symmetrical features? “You really like me?”

“Yes, I do, I like you both. This, this has to be a dream.”

“What, uhm,” Minju stutters and looks at you, similar expression to Sullyoon, her eyes also beaming, her chin tilted towards you—their similarities become uncanny in this dimly lit bathroom. “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper and smile.

“We still have a project to finish,” Sullyoon sighs and puts her head against your chest, which does not make for a good pillow with its constant up and down movement and Minju right next to her.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I think we should finish it. Let’s focus and then maybe our thoughts are a bit more… sorted.” Both girls nod, but it takes some more convincing before they let you go. The fear that they could lose you to the other makes them stay a bit longer until you have to push through them. It’s a playful struggle, which is only resolved when the three of you go back to Minju’s room.

All is quiet for a good, productive thirty minutes. The cardboard sculpture is finally painted and read to dry, the text only needs a few more tweaks, the project is in its final stage. All you can think about, however, are your groupmates, especially when your sight drifts away from the task ahead to their faces, their hands, their hips.

“Minju, can you help me?” Sullyoon groans. “I need to finish, this bottom part is so hard!”

“Of course, let me just—put this here and this into that—do you think it fits now?”

“It still looks too big, don’t you think? Maybe we should stretch it—”

“Or we could share it? I think if we both do it, it will be better.”

Hit yourself on your forehead, because the brain behind it once again can only think of the lewd. Minju and Sullyoon are trying their best to format this text and split it into fair portions for the presentation—yet all you think about is how they admire your big cock, share it in between their parted lips and then, Minju helps Sullyoon to go down on it with her throat.

After you are all covered in her spit, Sullyoon would grab your base and put it on Minju’s folds, ease you into her and all kinds of moans would fill the room and alert all neighbors who are still awake.

“I think this is good,” Minju ultimately concludes and turns to you. “Do you want to take a look too?”

You shake your head. “Uhm, no, I’m sure it’s excellent. Wow, looks like we really finished it.”

“Okay, so.” Sullyoon spins around in her chair, hands hidden in between her thighs and everything vibrates. “Are we going to talk now about… our situation?”

“I think we are all adults, we can talk about it.” Minju fidgets a bit and looks at you. They are both waiting for you to say something, but you just smirk without a worry in the world and lay down on Minju’s bed.

“Sure, we can talk. Let’s be honest, be free. Don’t care what the rest things, just

“Tell me what you feel.”

Sullyoon pushes the chair closer to you with her feet and Minju sits down on her bed, less bold than Sullyoon, because her eyes are fixed on the other end of the mattress. You get her attention when you fingers lock with hers, but the first to speak up is Sullyoon.

“I think I have a crush on you. Two years ago it started and I can’t explain why, but—you grew very handsome during that time a-and you’re pretty smart, so—”

“I feel the same!” Minju suddenly shouts and her fingers squeeze yours tightly. “And sorry, I-I once took a picture of your, uhm, abs when you changed your shirt. It was stupid, I’ll delete it right now—”

You laugh and pull Minju on top of you. Now her gaze cannot escape yours anymore and she has to see the true awe in your eyes. A natural awe for her beauty, her kindness and the way her honesty reveals all those secret feelings.

“Delete them if you like,” you hum and place the palm of Minju’s hand on your abdomen while flexing your muscles. “But you can take some more high quality pictures, if you want to.”

Jealousy overtakes a formerly hesitant Sullyoon and she pounces onto the bed next to you. Her hands are still hidden in between her thighs, but you can see that she wants to touch what Minju is already groping.

Sullyoon doesn’t even have to ask. You grab her wrist and slowly guide it under your sweatshirt. Though she tries to act shocked and abashed, you can feel her digits roaming all over your abs greedily as she visibly drools. Minju had most of your attention until now. Now it’s Sullyoon’s turn to feel your love in the form of a wet kiss pressed right onto her already wet lips. Unlike Minju, she tries to go all in on the first go, but you quickly pull away with a chuckle and watch her eager tongue searching for your mouth.

“Sully, open your eyes,” you softly laugh at her and drag a finger over her flushed, tender cheek as she does so. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going anywhere. If you are okay with it, I can love you both with all my heart.”

“I want to share you,” she says with determination and immediately contradicts her statement by lunging at you and starting a torrential kiss that has Minju hiding her face behind her long, cascading hair. It’s all faux, because in the meantime, she has rolled up your sweatshirt to your chest. Gently she pokes your pecs and you giggle into the kiss with Sullyoon.

“Good to know we are all on the same page,” you finally voice your own feelings when Sullyoon backs off to catch her breath. “I think I could cuddle you both for the rest of the night and forget every worry, every task, every stupid responsibility ahead of us.”

Funny how your dreams come true, again. An arm around each of their waists, you pull Minju and Sullyoon deeper into the softness of pillows and blankets generously spread on Minju’s mattress. Both your cheeks are quickly peppered with kisses, cute, hesitant ones from Minju, from chin to ear and wild, playful ones from Sullyoon, from the edge of your collarbone to your lips. She seals them again and this time you can hear Minju become jealous with a loud huff.

This back and forth of envy, you see no way to disrupt it anytime soon. Come to think of it, maybe you don’t want to. This dynamic pushes them further to reveal more of their love, so give them what they want. You are theirs to love and play with—but you will play with them too.

“Minju,” you say, your voice purposefully low and more serious than before. “You have such amazing hips. They are wide and look so perfect on you.”

You turn towards her and reach for the top of her skirt. Insert a couple fingers into it and let them glide along the waistband until you reach the outermost point of her hips. Minju tenses up when you begin to grab her hips, the skin of your palms right on her underwear, slipped into her skirt. You pull her even closer and she is back to holding onto your sleeves.

“Such nice hips.” Rub them, and Minju starts to rub herself on you, face on your bare chest and crotch on your thigh. Speaking of thighs, Sullyoon might have felt neglected for a second, so you find her mouth with ease and bully her tongue with yours while putting a hand on her inner thigh. Sullyoon shrieks the more you touch her jeans-clad legs, no matter if you go down to where her calves begin or if you go up to where her pussy is aching.

“Wow, Sully, your legs, your thighs are fantastic. I bet they are very soft.”

“T-touch them more, please,” Sullyoon softly whimpers and you nod. Minju is too enamored with her own thighs around yours, she does not realize her friend popping open her jeans and sliding them down. Your hesitation, your careful planning gets thrown out of the window when you slide your hand over her soft skin and go to bite her lips.

“They are the softest, damn, I could knead them all day long.” Your hot breath mixes with Sullyoon when you go from some basic thigh stimulation to cupping her sex and pressing your palm on her covered clit. “Your panties are cute too~”

No time to focus on Sullyoon’s embarrassed face, because Minju’s takes your entire view. You try to kiss her mouth but she backs off, even climbs off the bed and stands next to it. Both her hands firmly grasps the hem of her skirt, her knuckles turn white—that’s how hard she grabs it while her voice sounds absolutely love drunk:

“I-I have cute panties too,” she complains and lifts her skirt up, higher than you thought she would dare to. Not only you, her crush, that can see this most private part, but her friend can as well. Your eyes are glued to the small, pink garment with its tiny wet spot at the front, very cute indeed, maybe even cuter than Sullyoon’s baby blue panties which at this point become ruined on your hand.

“They are really cute, Minju.” You smile, she cracks a small smile. “I did not know you two had such lewd minds and wild fantasies.”

“Can we see y-your underwear now?” Sullyoon avoids your statement with a pout while simultaneously confirming it. Minju joins her nods, skirt still held high, her panties just a bit wetter at the thought of you. “Yes, please, we-we want to see it, it’s only fair!”

“Hm, how about a deal then, my two lewd girlfriends: I’m all yours, you can undress me and play with me until you are satisfied, but first you give me a show. I want you two undressing each other slowly. Sounds like a deal?”

At this point, everything is so out of control, you might as well ask for a favor that usually would get you kicked out. After all, this isn’t porn, not every girl is into girls and into threesomes, but Minju and Sullyoon have shown to be so needy for you, their libido will take over all reasoning. To no surprise, both only hesitate for a second.

“I’m okay with that,” Sullyoon whispers. “You too, Minju?” She leaves the spot in your arm and walks behind her friend. “Are you okay with me touching you?”

“S-sure.” They both get into it quickly. Minju drops her arms and lets them dangle while her needy face is directed at you. Sullyoon makes sure you can see her fingers play with the waistband of Minju’s skirt, just like you did, and she teases you by only pulling down one side, then the other. It’s only when you groan in disapproval that she moves upwards and pulls Minju’s sweatshirt over her head.

You totally expected a bra behind this comfy, cotton barrier, but no: Minju is wearing a white shirt underneath and the tease just continues. Sullyoon finds the lowest button first and works her way up, sending chills down Minju’s spine.

An amazing midriff, toned abs around a cute little navel; you can’t help but ogle when Sullyoon presses her fingers into them and gasps in surprise. No words need to be spoken—that’s probably how Minju likes it more as well. She struggles to relax, especially when the final button pops and her shirt opens like curtains to reveal her bra, the same color as her panties, erect nipples visible through the thin garment.

“May I?” Sullyoon asks, basically blowing the question into Minju’s ear as her hands already fiddle with the clasp of the bra. The sound of silence is nothing but hot breaths and the faint creaking of Minju’s bed as you adjust yourself to get closer with her still-covered breasts.

Still covered.

Still covered.

“O-okay,” Minju whispers, whines, it doesn’t matter, you finally get to see her upper body in all its glory, and you find glory to be an understatement: her breasts are perfectly symmetrical, not saggy but quite perky and a bit smaller than your hands. You could cover them up and knead them without much effort; it takes effort however to not look absolutely overwhelmed as your dreamy eyes focus on erect nipples and round arolae.

“What do you think?” Sullyoon asks the question with an answer that is obvious but hard to put into words.

“Minju, your body looks…

“... very, very hot. I-I’ve never seen something so flawless.”

“And you haven’t even seen what’s behind this~” Sullyoon’s voice is sultry as she taps Minju’s skirt. She once again teases you, her smooth hand under the skirt and once you hear Minju shriek, you know what she is about to do.

Sullyoon removes those stained panties, while Minju still wears her skirt. The miniscule petite underwear wraps around her ankles while her dainty digits wrap around the hem of her skirt. At this point, your drool cannot be held back. You need to see her most private place.

“Let, let me do it!” Minju says with confidence and as if she’s as impatient as you are, pulls the skirt up and shuts her eyes. Sullyoon chuckles lightly and gets a hold of Minju’s hips, while you are about to dive into those wet folds, small and pink and definitely untouched. You notice a small strip of hair above her clit which looks like it should twitch at any moment. Minju’s visible arousal becomes your visible arousal and before you can end the teasing session and start a new session, Sullyoon interrupts you:

“Shouldn’t Minju undress me now?”

“Wha—oh… yeah, sure,” you respond and hold your horny horses. Minju looks a bit dazed when she drops the skirt and opens her eyes again. You help her gain focus by reaching for her hands and holding them. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Minju, you are perfect down there as well.”

“Re-really?”

“Yes, I’d never lie to the girls I love.

“Now, why don’t you help Sullyoon get out of those… tight jeans?”

Sullyoon smirks. Without you noticing it, she pulled her pants back up and made sure that they showed the outline of her shapely butt. She is a tease like no one before or after; fortunately, Minju seems to not get what teasing is about: with you still right beside her, she puts all her strength at pulling the denim down—the denim and Sullyoon’s panties.

“Eh, what are you—Minju!” Sullyoon complains loudly.

“So-sorry, did I do it wrong?”

“You, you were too fast!” The shyness returns to Sullyoon’s face as she buries it in the crook of her arm.

“No reason to fight,” you ease the flames of conflict burning before you. “I think Minju did a great job and your butt is great, Sullyoon.”

“No, don’t say that, it’s too big!”

“I’m gonna say it again.” You emphasize your words with a good squeeze on both her cheeks while Minju’s wide eyes are on the dumpy before her. “You have a fantastic butt, not too big, definitely not too small, perfect.”

Your kneading hands leave Sullyoon a mewling mess, speechless, even as Minju goes and undresses her further. It’s all a lot quicker, the top is removed easily, the bra falls with a simple click and Sullyoon is the first to be fully nude. She stops your continued handsy attacks on her ass with a spin around. Unlike Minju, her pussy is freshly shaven and her entire body looks like it was made just for this moment.

“Someone is prepared,” you say with a smile and drag a finger up her midriff to her tits which are nice handfuls of their own, similar in size and shape to Minju’s.

“You are mean,” Sullyoon pouts and suddenly starts to embrace you. You gasp. Her body is almost scorching hot. “I waited so long for this.”

“I bet you couldn’t look better. No dream, no imagination can make your body look any sexier.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it.”

The sound of someone crawling onto the bed gets your attention. Minju lays next to you, her skirt finally kicked away and she stretches her arms forward in search of your embrace. That poor girl is desperate, however, you don't make it to her before Sullyoon unzips your pants.

“It’s only fair if we get to see you too, right, Minju?” Sullyoon asks, her tone making it clear that the answer cannot differ from her needs.

“Should I strip for you too?” you say with a witty smile, but Minju comes to Sullyoon’s aid.

“Enough teases, I—I can barely think!”

The striptease must have set something in motion within Minju: her shyness is only apparent on her fully red cheeks, her hands have already taken a different path. Boldly, they yank down both your pants and briefs in strong pulls, past your erection, which comes back swinging at her. Minju dodges it, because she can’t stop looking at Sullyoon behind you, arms resting on your shoulder, lips suckling at your neck.

“So big!” Minju can’t hold back her shock and awe at the shape, the bend, the size.

“Yeah,” Sullyoon dreamily adds. “We really have to share him from now on.”

Things are out of control. Every further plan of slowly getting to your dream threesome scenario are useless, laughable, when both your new lovers shove you down into the mattress and somehow find space on and in between your legs to intently stare at and past your phallus. Minju and Sullyoon are often not on the same page, sometimes polar opposites in class, but tonight they are more than united.

While Minju is in awe at how you throb and seemingly still grow into the air, Sullyoon eagerly spits into her hand and slowly spreads her saliva on your shaft. The thoughtfulness, carefulness and softness of her fingers make every pump of hers fade into absurdity. Right from the get go, Sullyoon’s handjob is already on the level of jerking yourself off.

“Have you ever done this, Minju?”

“N-no, never. Not even close.”

“I—only have with not real dicks.” The two blush, but there is no need to intervene. Unlike in most classes, they are eager to study for themselves, learn new tricks and test them on you.

“How about you start down at his… sac, while I go from the top?” Sullyoon suggests and Minju nods. However, you still see hesitance in her eyes, probably because she is afraid of screwing things up or making it awkward.

“They are full for you, Minju,” you softly coo and brush her hair as she almost puts her lips on them. Okay, maybe she needs the tiniest of pushing to finally— “Put your lips on them, give them a kiss. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Sullyoon is definitely not afraid. She wraps her mouth around your cockhead and begins to twirl her tongue around it. The taste of your precum must have urged her on, because she hums happily and sucks loudly. It’s like your cock is the straw in her favorite drink, that's how aggressively she sucks and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Meanwhile Minju sneakily tries to find the best spot to wrap her lips around your crown jewels, her adorable expression unpurified when she decides to go for it.

“Oh fuck!” you groan and your body arches involuntarily. More of your manhood is pressed onto their faces, into their eagerly drooling holes; it makes you wonder if you even need their pussies if this already feels so heavenly. The eagerness and playfulness of Sullyoon paired with the gentleness and sweetness of Minju makes for a double blowjob that could drain you embarrassingly fast.

Something inside your stomach tells you to just release it. Let them suck, let them play, until you just release it all over them without worry in deep bliss. Before that happens, you have to get back at them. It would be quite the disappointing night if this was your only load and they wouldn’t have any stimulation until then. You have to come up with a plan, while Sullyoon pops you from her mouth with a deep moan.

“Minju, let’s switch,” she suggests. “He tastes really good, you have to try it. Don’t worry about the size, I couldn’t take it either.”

“Oh, okay, his, his balls are quite hard. Does this mean they are full?”

“Fuck, yes,” you interrupt their horny conversation, ready to announce your plan. A plan that will surely distract you and them to the point all of you will have the best of fun. “After you’ve switched, how about you turn your butts towards me? You’re doing a fantastic job, I want to return the favor.”

They lock eyes, then look at you and nod. Sullyoon has this grin on her lips, as if she can’t wait for your fingers and tongue on her labia. Minju, again, might look quite abashed, but she is quicker than Sullyoon when it comes to showing you her behind. The sight of her bare ass, tiny pink pussy and thighs spilling out of black stockings has you drooling, almost neglecting Sullyoon’s equally remarkable offer.

Sadly, you only have one tongue and so you dive into Minju’s cunt first. In what has to be the most mind-melting moment in her life, the beautiful girl sucks in your addictive taste while for the first time, someone touches her virgin sex. Minju moans around your length while you lick all the way from her clit to her asshole in long quick swipes. You watch her body tremble and decide to put an arm around it so she doesn’t sway away from your mouth, which digs into her sensitive folds.

Speaking of sensitive folds, your other hand has found more of those. Sullyoon’s innie, beautifully smooth, spills wetness forth and guides you to the well-lubricated entrance. You don’t even have to see anything to slip your middle finger inside her. Sullyoon gasps and nuzzles her soft cheek against your balls, while a little bit higher, Minju has lost all shame.

“Yummy, yummy,” she babbles every half second when your cock leaves her mouth. The two of you seem to share the same thought: These perverted fluids are delicious, I better get as much as I can.

In your mutual delight, Sullyoon momentarily rips you out of it, just to make things even better. She bunches up Minju’s hair in a hand and starts to put her lips on Minju’s. Their tongues battle, luckily your tip is there to separate them, though it does not want peace: it wants all out war.

For this brilliant idea, you decide to switch and bury your face in Sullyoon’s ass then quickly move to her cunt and pierce it open with your wet muscle, the same muscle Minju’s twitching hole misses. She has to finish on your hand, so you decide to twirl her exposed clit in between your fingers.

The greatest trio in the world's most renowned orchestra could not compare to the harmonies your different moans produce. They are unfiltered, not played for a camera, not exaggerated—but still so loud, booming, climactic, when Sullyoon shutters. Her juices gush into your mouth, more when she leans back and presses her pussy on your face.

Minju follows quickly, almost sitting on and riding your hand as it lays there, fingers tapping upwards, against her nub. Her orgasm is not as wet, but you feel the bed shake when she cums and seemingly goes to another reality. You’re glad she physically stays, her tongue still eager at your slit—and Sullyoon is on the other side, making out with her and your cockhead.

You're incredibly hard, an iron-like rod, a tip that is purple and sensitive yet absolutely numb and only begging for what might as well be the best and final release. The thought of this ever happening again does not cross your mind, a void of nothing but pleasure. You have to give it your all now and so you buckle upwards in between their sandwiching lips and explode without warning.

“Fuuuck,” Sullyoon groans. Minju yelps, a high pitch as she still rides out her own orgasm on your palm. Your first is bombastic, a shot up in the air that rains down on their faces while the rest is equally distributed on their tender cheeks, silky lips, hot tongues. No need to mention that a lot ends up in places where the clean up will be more annoying: hair, bedsheets, even clothes have stains of white on them.

Who cares, really? Not Minju, who still laps up what leaks out of your aching, overstimulated cock. Not Sullyoon, who is out of breath and uses your thigh as a pillow. Certainly not you who literally passed out for a second and only returns because Minju sucks too strongly.

“Ouch, fuck, Min-Minju it hurts—”

“You tasht sho good, I want more.”

“Then, ahhh, get it from Sullyoon’s face, I-I don’t have anything anymore.”

Minju listens and obidies, unable to remember her shy nature when she sucks on Sullyoon’s skin to get all of your spunk off of her. Sullyoon is unfazed, mewling a bit before finding your gaze. She smirks and suddenly, the tip of her index finger touches your balls.

“You're lying,” she whispers. “You have at least one more in you.”

“I-I don’t think so.” Shake your head to emphasize your words, but Sullyoon emphasizes her belief more thoroughly by pumping from your base up. Slow strokes to keep the pressure in it, she makes sure to keep her mouth a literal breath away, a hot breath that takes your breath away. Your eyelids shutter.

“Are you sure he can keep going?” Minju cutely asks, the final remnants of cum she collected from Sullyoon’s forehead on her finger which she promptly puts in her mouth and cleans thoroughly. “I could really go for another.”

“Don’t you want him to take your virginity?” Sullyoon’s question somehow has the blush return to Minju’s ears, she turns around abashed. It’s unbelievable: a second ago, she was the biggest cumslut, now she is afraid of what feels like a logical next step if it weren’t for…

“We can’t, Sully,” you say and reach for both their heads and pat them. “Not going to do it if we don’t have condoms, and maybe we should take some time? This is all a bit—”

“Crazy?” Sullyoon climbs off the bed and searches through her backpack, to the confusion of both you and Minju. It takes her a while to find what she is looking for, so you enjoy seeing her ass in the squatting position. “Is it crazy that I have these?”

She throws you a pack of condoms. You blink.

“Is it crazy that I want you to take my virginity tonight?” Sullyoon sneaks back like a predator, adorable looking, dangerously feeling up your thigh to your once again hard length. You don’t let her have her way, grab her wrists and look at Minju.

“You are crazy. Look in whose bed we are! Minju, what do—”

“I-I’m fine with it!” Minju cups her cheeks and her gaze can’t fix on either your or Sullyoon’s face. “I can give you privacy, if you want.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sullyoon laughs. “You should join us. I’d let you go first, if you want.��� She licks her lips and even with her arms being held down by you, she gets her flat tummy to rub on your manhood, close to her heat which you can no longer resist.

“I’ll get some water, you… do you.” Minju’s words are hastily spoken, her sentence finished when she is already out of the door. This settles it for you. You’re going to fuck Sullyoon; her first time is yours and the way she rips open the wrapping of the first condom leaves no doubt in your mind:

This girl loves you and wants you now.

“How do you want it?” you ask and roll the thin, barely-there rubber down your cock.

“I want you to push in me, push my body into the bed, slowly at first. Be careful until I tell you to go faster. Fuck me, hug me, do it so good and hard that I forget that there was ever a time where you didn’t love me.”

“Sounds—

Let go of her wrists and Sullyoon lets her amazing body fall into the cushions. Her lewd expression shifts; nervousness, only a little, seriousness, a little more—thrill, endless amounts of thrill. The same counts for you.

“—good. Spread your legs for me, Sullyoon. Breathe and relax.”

Those wonderful legs not only spread for you, they actually wrap around you, their smoothness suddenly suffocating and now it’s you who needs to breathe. Your cock slips into her so easily, your tip parts her, enters and if it weren’t for her wince you would’ve gone hilt deep right away. Sullyoon’s eagerness momentarily comes to a halt as she realizes that you are a bit different from her toys.

“Wow,” she mumbles mindlessly. “You’re so wide and hard and warm—nothing like a… a…”

“Like a dildo?” you tease her and gradually drag your tip along her walls and then out of the blissful heat. Her legs make sure to push you back in and now she is even tighter. Sullyoon wants you to stay, you can’t leave without your permission. “Tell me when it hurts.”

“Actually—”

Her digits find your nape and pull you down to where her lips pucker.

“—I want you to hammer your cock into me now. Mold my pussy in its shape. Hold back only if I say stop.”

“Got it.” Kiss her lips. “I love you, Sully.”

Sometimes, you need to let go and let the reckless abandon of lust take over your body. Your hips become a tool for pleasure, as they gyrate, then move back and forth to bury your length deeper in Sullyoon’s cunt. Then you copy and paste their movements and repeatedly do them with your tongue as well to the point your new girlfriend desperately clings to you. It’s not only the sweat that sticks to you; her entire being keeps you glued down.

You pump, pump, pump into Sullyoon until you notice her eyes rolling back into her head whenever you hit that spot. The sweet spot that will eventually make her cum. Good thing that you already blew a load and that all your sensitivity has subsided—it gives you the power that makes you feel like a superhero, a superhuman. You will not stop at anything, you want to make her cum with just your dick and so you have to fuck harder.

“Oh God, you’re so big, so fucking big and perfect,” Sullyoon moans. As a thank you, you place a hickey somewhere on her neck. In hindsight, a bad idea. All your classmates will see it, unless she wears turtlenecks from now on. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

“Your pussy, Sully, it’s, it’s so tight. You’re choking me.”

“Spread me open more then, fuck, fuck, I want you to make me full.”

Hidden from the world, you place a hand on Sullyoon’s abdomen. Not to touch that tummy that alone can make boys fall instantly, though it feels nice to rub your fingers across it—no, your goal is further down, right above where your cock pounds into that wet cunt. Talk about wet, Sullyoon’s juices have spread everywhere, Minju will smell her friend in this room for days to come.

And talk about Minju: she has just returned, a huge bottle of water in her hand and eyes wide open. There is no shock at the sight of Sullyoon moaning and bending under the never ending attack of your hands, tongue and of course cock. Minju is more fascinated than anything else, you know she could watch for hours if only you didn’t notice her.

“Oh, hey,” you gasp in between groans, but your greeting is cut short by Sullyoon’s deafening scream.

“Minju, Minju, oh fuck, you have to try this. He is so good~

“Yes! My clit, right there! Oh my God, I’m going to cum, you make me c-cum!”

Sullyoon pulsates throughout her pussy, her arms, her fingers. Those pointy nails of hers dig painful bruises in your back while your blurry gaze tries to make out her face in haze, but all you see is the shape of her mouth being agape. She’s suddenly so quiet, except for her pussy, which tries to start your own orgasm. You won’t give it to her, not when Minju stands there, her stocking-clad thighs rubbing together, visibly stained with her nectar.

“You guys…” she whispers and watches closely as you pull out of Sullyoon and wipe away some beads of sweat that have formed on your temple. You’re not a construction worker, but your work was hard and it paid off: Sullyoon could not be closer to heaven above the clouds, no skyscraper or airplane can take her there.

“Can I have some of that?” you weakly ask and point at the water bottle. You’re quick to squeeze out a huge portion when Minju hands you the plastic container. From the corner of your eye you see Sullyoon, back from her crazy trip and you offer her some of the water. She rejects and suddenly, full of energy, jumps up and behind Minju.

“Minju, you have to try it.” Minju shrieks when Sullyoon places her hands on the hourglass body. “He feels amazing, I know you will love it.” All her fingers carelessly drift down to where Minju’s full thighs spill out of hr black thigh-highs.

“B-but didn’t he, like, fi-finish in you? He must be exhausted.” Minju’s excuse is met with a scoff from Sullyoon.

“Look at that thing.” Sullyoon points in between your legs. That’s right, you’re still solid and throbbing, aching to go for more. “He is a stud, he can go forever. He will make you cum on your first time, Minju~”

“I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to listen to her,” you tell Minju and take another sip from the bottle. “We can do something else if you don’t feel ready yet.”

Your words might be honest, but Minju does not get a fair chance to consider this other option. In front of her sits her crush, a guy with a big, super tasty cock. Behind her is a friend, mind controlled by lust, eager to share this big, super tasty cock. The sight of you teases her, Sullyoon’s hands on her hips, butt, crotch tease her. Can she really go for it now? Make this crazy night become nothing but madness, a story worth telling but no one will ever hear it?

“I want… you inside of me.”

“Perf—”

“I want you to cum inside of me!”

You gulp, thoughts tripping over each other. Even Sullyoon is perplexed and frozen. “R-really?” you both ask the still-virgin girl.

“No, like, in-in a condom of course! I just want to know… that my pussy felt good for you, that I can make you cum. I don’t want to get pregnant yet of course—oh God, did you think that?”

“Well…”

“Doesn’t matter!” Sullyoon suddenly laughs this chaotic misunderstanding off and pushes Minju on your lap. “Here, Minju, put a new condom on his cock. We don’t do creampies, but I totally get what you want.”

“I’m so sorry, that was a stupid thing to say,” Minju apologizes awkwardly, but you quickly forget about it when she expertly puts the rubber on your tip and has your entire phallus covered in no time. Her dainty fingers feel fantastic on your base, which she holds steady, awaiting you to do something with it. You can’t make up your mind however: should you pick her up and throw her into the sheets to fuck her like Sullyoon? Maybe spin her around and fuck her doggy, ass up, that beautiful face buried in pillows as you burry yourself inside her for the first time?

Sullyoon helps you come up with a third solution. She grabs your wrists and firmly puts them on Minju’s tiny waist and instinctively, you lift her up and over your cock. Minju looks down at your manhood and mewls, ready yet not ready to take it. Her starlit eyes, a few centimeters away, look down into yours and you swear you don’t want to hurt. You have to do everything to make this the best thing for her.

Give Minju a firm kiss on her trembling lips as both you and Sullyoon gently place her entrance on your spear. At first, she is scared, her body tensing up, but with your warmth radiating on her warm folds, she suddenly seems eager. More and more inches disappear into her and you leave her lips to hear her ultimate moan when her virginity disappears.

“Ouh, so big, so much, ahhh!”

“Does it hurt?” you ask her.

“A-a bit, but it’s fine—Sullyoon, what are you doing!? Don’t look at it!”

Sullyoon kneels between your legs. When she breathes out through her nose, your balls feel her hot and horny breath. She completely ignores Minju’s words and stares at how you leave and re-enter Minju’s pussy. “Minju, this… this is the best sight! Trust me, it feels good when he goes faster. Your pussy will feel so good.”

“This is embarrassing,” Minju mewls again, her hips firmly pushed down on your lap, almost the entirety of your cock inside her. You might not feel powerless in this position, not at all in fact, but you want this absolute beauty of a woman to do how she likes it. If she just wants to sit on you and slowly move her lower body in circles, that’s fine, if she wants to ride you with heavy thrusts, that would be to die for—

But Minju unexpectedly picks a third option. Seriously, these girls are full of surprises. She puts her hands on your shoulders while yours instinctively hover down to her hips and then she tightens around your cock again before moving up and down, up and down, up and down with perfect body control, at the same pace.

Minju rides you, fucks you, like she has done it a thousand times. You can hardly believe she never had a toy inside her. Every breath becomes more chaotic, her features disheveled, her tongue numb. It hangs out of her mouth, a perfectly ripe weak spot for you to attack. You suck on it, bully it in your mouth and Minju grabs your throat, accidentally choking you. No, no, she has to keep doing that. She has to suffocate you, with her pussy, with her fingers, with her stunning visuals as she fucks herself silly.

“Sullyoon, fuck,” you both simultaneously curse when the forgotten girl starts to lick all the way from your perineum over to your cock and Minju’s folds to Minju’s butthole, then back down, as if it were the longest, tastiest lollipop. She is not irritated by all the sweat, the lewd juices and Minju’s ass bouncing on your dick—Sullyoon laps it all up and even giggles when she hears both of you struggle with the added pleasure.

Minju gradually loses speed, which is of course not bad, after all, her cunt still tries to suck your Sullyoon-kissed balls dry, but you notice how completely out of breath and overstimulated she seems. With unfocused puppy eyes she tries to apologize for her lack of stamina, but instead of lamenting, you find a quick solution—a solution that sends Minju straight into her first ever crazy orgasm.

Hock your arms underneath her legs, securely hold her and stand up. Sullyoon gasps in surprise, her tongue still in Minju’s ass, which suddenly shakes when you start to fuck. Minju screams in bliss, covers your crotch in girl cum as you lose your grip on reality but never your grip on her hips. Minju can barely hold onto your nape as you pound her and send orgasm after orgasm into her.

“Ahhh, oh my God, it’s, it’s coming again!”

She deserves so many more so you steady your feet and thrust upwards harder, faster, gape her cunt wide open, all for Sullyoon to see. She remembers that you speared her open in a similar way, your cock hard and reckless. She starts to touch herself while sucking on whatever part of your base isn’t currently inside Minju. In the meantime, Minju’s stockings burn themselves in your memory. She always has to wear them, they look so hot, seductive, like they were made to cover her legs.

“So big, too much, too much, I—”

Minju explodes again. This time her ability to speak is replaced by mindless moans, which sound a bit silly through her constantly cracking voice. You look down and admire the ripple of her thighs, the way her small tits bounce up and down. Her hot cunt feels ready for a load, a load it will not directly receive unfortunately.

Unfortunately? No, it’s good! You can’t risk getting Minju pregnant, that would be insane.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you groan.

“Let me help you~” Sullyoon’s lewd voice and even lewder lips push you over the edge as she puts your balls in her mouth and sucks on them loudly. The added pressure makes you unload into the condom, testing its durability. Luckily it passes the test and Minju still gets to have that feeling of hotness inside her.

She smiles weakly, but cannot really react. Her body goes limp in your arms as you slip out of her wide open hole. You carefully drop her onto the bed, a bed that you definitely need too now. Soft sheets to finally rest in after this night of projects and—other projects so to say.

“Fuck that was insane. What’s going to happen now?” you ask no one in particular. Minju is already gone, deep in a dream.

“What do you think?” Sullyoon suddenly says and lays next to you in bed, her fingers pulling away the condom. When she sees the ridiculous amount of cum still covering your dick, she is quick to clean it up with her tongue. It seems that she is just as addicted to your taste as Minju.

“Fuck, Sully—”

“We have to do this every week.”

“Wh-what?”

“Aren’t we your girlfriends now? Don’t you want this—

“To happen again~?”

Yes, they are your girlfriends now—and yes: you have fallen for them.

Who could blame you?

[dreadfuldrip]

Midnight Secrets

~~A love revealed

or

Falling asleep together and being caught by the students :))

Logan Howlett x GN!Reader

A/n: This blog has moved to @hiddenavenues

CW: GN!Reader, established (secret) relationship, pure fluff :)

The clock on the wall read 2:14 am as you found yourself sitting on the couch of the X-mansion, book in hand. The mansion was quiet, students and staff tucked away for the night, all but yourself. You had tried to sleep for hours before giving up and heading downstairs to avoid disturbing Logan with your reading light. 

The hearth before you crackled, shadows jumping along the wall as you questioned your sleeplessness for the umpteenth time. Logan has joined you in your sheets more often over the last few weeks. The man was practically a human furnace; his embrace usually kept you sleeping soundly, but not tonight. 

If you were honest with yourself, you had many papers to grade. As much as you love your students, their English papers could use more work. As of late, most of them had been spending class time speculating on which of their teachers were together. Neither you nor Logan had discussed telling anyone of the relationship blooming between you, instead preferring sneaking into each other's room each night and sneaking out every morning. Although sneaking kisses between classes and hiding love bites each morning was exhilarating at first, having to hide something that meant so much to you was beginning to feel more like a chore. 

You startle as warm breath fans the nape of your neck, quickly followed by strong arms wrapping around your shoulders from behind the couch. 

"Come back to bed?" Logan mumbles into your neck, voice husky with sleep.

Putting down your book, you wrap your arms around his and press a kiss to his forehead, earning you a hum from Logan. 

"Sorry baby, couldn't sleep." You reply, idly petting Logan's arm. "Why don't you come sit? I was enjoying the fire."

With a grumble that sounded like 'our bed is much comfier,' Logan rests his head in your lap, your fingers combing through his hair. His eyes are closed as soon as he lays down, something like purring rumbling through his chest as your hands play with his hair. 

"My boy's just so tired, ain't he, hm baby?" You whisper, Logan nestling deeper into your lap in response. A love-drunk smile plays on your lips, observing Logan's peaceful face as he rests in your lap. With your fingers in his, your other hand rubs slow circles into Logan's back as you rest your head on the back of the couch. Closing your eyes, you listen to Logan's steady breathing as you let sleep take over. 

The sound of quiet snickering rouses you, your eyes squinting against the morning sunlight beaming through the windows. Opening your eyes, you are greeted with a room of students gaping and giggling around you. Confused, you open your mouth to explain you must've fallen asleep reading when you hear a faint groan from your lap. Heat blooms on your cheeks as you look down at Logan, sleeping soundly with your hand still in his hair. 

As if on cue, Logan sighs, moving to stretch out his back before freezing mid-motion, likely spotting the audience you two have. In a blink, Logan is seated on the couch, growling at the staring kids, earning him a pinch in the shoulder from you.

"Hey," You chide, getting his attention. "No scaring the kids." 

Logan grumbles, his cheeks sprinkled with pink. From the doorway, a giggle catches your attention. 

"Okay, kids, I think that's enough staring." Storm's voice interrupts the sea of whispers and snickers. I think you all have places to be. It'd be a shame if Professor Xavier heard about your tardiness…"

The room cleared out so fast that you wondered if you had dreamed it all up. Storm's knowing smirk and Logan's scarlet cheeks told you otherwise. 

"Well… so much for being secretive?" You giggle, looking at Logan's ridiculous bedhead half the school just saw. Logan looks at you, smirking. 

"I was getting sick of sneaking around anyways." He says, kissing your cheek. Storm hollered something about winning a bet to Scott down the hall, a scoff coming from Logan. And just like that, no more sneaking around like teenagers.

[66stitches]

Marigold (II)

𑁍 best friend!abby x reader

𑁍 Summary: Abby loved you in a way she believed you could never reciprocate. Per her friend's advice, she began to avoid you in hopes of healing her aching heart.

𑁍 CW: sfw, angst, a little bit of fluff, unrequited love, happy ending yippe, jealousy, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, reader neither described as masc nor fem, no physical description of reader besides that she is able-bodied, fighting, swearing, violence, ellie mention, a lot of crying, pet names.

𑁍 WC: 4.4k

𑁍 Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

𑁍 divider creds

𑁍 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

You buried your cold hands deep within the pockets of your maroon-colored jacket in an attempt to ward off the biting cold, each breath you took formed a slight cloud in the crisp air.

"Don't you think it's a little cold for ice cream?" You spoke, looking over at your friend walking alongside you.

"Maybe you'd enjoy it more if you actually got a good flavour."

You and Ellie wandered through the familiar town, your thoughts running as you dragged your feet across the pavement beneath you.

You tried to focus your thoughts on anything besides Abby: the cold breeze of winter stinging your nose, your coffee-flavored ice cream that, according to Ellie, tasted like burnt shit, the fallen leaves and the sound they would make when you'd step on them.

But she always managed to find her way back into your thoughts, contaminating your brain with the presence of her memories. The memories that once brought you joy were now nothing but painful.

Your steps came to a halt as you stopped by the town's bar. Wooden panels adorned with colorful string lights and a paper that read "winter dance" stapled on the entrance.

"Oh, I almost forgot about the dance tonight," Ellie spoke as she finished the last bite of her ice cream. She tossed it in a nearby bin. "You're going, right?"

The town hosted dances and gatherings quite often. It was never really your thing, but it was Abby's, being the social butterfly she is. She always dragged you along, and you were happy to follow.

But Abby was no longer with you, and now you had no reason to go.

"No, I don't think so," you replied. "Are you?"

"Yes, I am, and so are you." She said it as if you had no choice in the matter, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Come on, don't just say no because of Abby. This is the perfect opportunity to get your mind off her," she sighed dramatically. "It's also the perfect opportunity for me to show off my dance moves."

You sighed, and though you were not yet convinced, you allowed yourself to consider it. "I don't know, Ellie.”

"Please? If not for yourself, then go for me. You're not really gonna let me go to this thing alone, are you?" she pleaded.

"Stop that. You know guilt trip always works on me."

She grinned. "I know."

"Alright," you said as you threw your hands up in defeat. "I'll go."

Ellie was right, you needed this. It was unfair for you to miserably lay heartbroken when God knows Abby was probably already out having fun, relieved to be rid of you at last. It wasn't fair for Ellie either who came a long way to see you.

𑁍

Nora slipped on her last layer of clothes and started combing back her dark hair.

"You're awfully quiet," she spoke, looking over at the blonde resided beside her, currently styling her hair into her signature braid.

Abby offered no response for a moment, simply going back to her task.

"Uh, you okay?" Nora asked.

"I'm fine, Nora," Abby replied, speaking without a glance at her friend's way. It was clear that she was lying, Nora could see that. Abby had been evidently troubled for weeks, her distressful demeanor was something no soul could miss.

Nora sighed as she placed her hairbrush down. "No, you're not. Tell me what's going on with you," she asked, though she knew she didn't need to. She knew it was you who's causing her this sorrow. In truth, that had always been the case, even long before you two had stopped talking.

"I don't know, I'm just a little worried about her, I guess," she said. Merely talking of you was most difficult for her. She had been trying to avoid the topic of you for quite some time now, always shutting her friends down when they tried to ask what happened between you and her.

"You don't have to worry about her, Abs. She's got that redhead friend of hers to keep her company." Nora tried her best to be comforting.

Abby almost had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes at the mention of Ellie. Of course she had noticed the two of you spending time together quite often, and as happy as she was that you had someone to keep you company, she couldn't help the seeping feeling of jealousy that contaminated her to the core at the first sight of you two.

“Please, don’t talk about Ellie,” she practically groaned, not doing much to conceal her obvious jealousy which earned her a slight grin from Nora.

“Jealous, much?” Nora asked.

That’s when Abby really rolled her eyes. “Nobody said that, Nora,” she said, albeit she knew she didn’t exactly give much room to conclude otherwise.

Abby didn’t want to admit truly how jealous she was of the red-headed girl and how badly your falling out had affected her.

She no longer wept, though she always felt as if she was on the verge of doing so. She tried to distract herself with the gym, but what once brought her happiness and contentment now felt like a chore. She didn’t need a distraction, she needed you.

She envied Ellie: she envied the way she got to hold you without that awful feeling of sheer guilt in the pit of her stomach; without that nagging voice in her head telling her what a disgusting person she is.

She envied the healthy relationship Ellie had with you, how comfortable she was in sharing affection without feeling as though she was fulfilling some perverse fantasy.

She was constantly plagued by the urge to go back to you, always having to remind herself of what a horrible idea that would be, as well as Nora’s persistent lectures which stopped her from doing something so foolish.

She was happy that you had someone to keep you company and comfort you, but she still couldn’t help the way she felt about Ellie. Her jealousy eating away at her every time she saw you together, doing things you once did with her, and she felt endlessly guilty for being jealous.

“Do you think she’s going? You know, to the party?” Nora inquired.

Abby considered it. She was unsure whether she wanted you there or not.

The sight of you would dim her mood, that she knew for certain, but she missed being in the same room as you.

“Probably not. T’was never really her scene.” She sounded different whenever she would speak about you. Her tone would change significantly. She sounded softer. Sadder.

Nora considered her next words for a moment before speaking. “Do you want her there?” She asked.

Abby zoned out for a moment, contemplating.

“I don’t know.”

𑁍

You stood beneath the cold wind staring at the town’s bar. You could hear everyone inside. Dancing, talking, yelling, singing along to the music. You took a deep breath and walked in, your eyes immediately scanning for Ellie.

You found the redhead standing by the bar with two drinks in hand. She met your eyes from across the room and gave you a smile as you walked up to her.

“So you came.” She handed you a drink.

“Yeah,” you responded as you fiddled with the bottle. “You were right, I’ve got to stop moping. This is good for me.”

Ellie tilted her head and smiled. “See? Told you. I’m always right.”

Moments passed, and you mostly followed Ellie around like a lost puppy while she socialized and met some new people.

That’s something you always envied about her: how she can make friends so easily and how confidently she carried herself most times.

You two then sat at the bar, allowing yourself to rest a little as you indulged yourself in conversation.

A conversation you were no longer paying attention to, Ellie’s voice slowly beginning to sound faded as your eyes were locked on someone else across the room.

And that certain someone was watching you right back. Deep blue eyes locked onto yours, keeping you connected from the other side of the room. Her brows were furrowed. She looked pained, tired, and yet still as beautiful as ever.

You didn’t think you would ever be in the same room as Abby again, but there she was, in all her glory.

She wore a tight green shirt that hugged her strong figure in all the right ways, along with some faded brown pants that accentuated her thighs.

“Stop looking at her.”

Abby was first to break eye contact, snapping you out of the trance that were her eyes. You averted your gaze from Abby and back to Ellie.

“Again, I am so sorry. I seriously didn’t know she’d be here,” Ellie apologized for what seemed like the millionth time.

“It’s fine, Ellie”, you reassured her, but you both knew it wasn’t fine at all. You sought a fun night to distract you from the ache in your heart that was Abby, only to have her come and bring that ache with her.

You were unsure whether you were surprised to see her here or not. You knew that she enjoyed these parties, but you assumed she wouldn’t be attending this time after what had happened. Perhaps you should have known better.

“There she goes staring at you again,” Ellie groaned and rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s just get out of here.”

“Way ahead of you.” You were already throwing the remainder of your drink and getting ready to leave. Ellie followed shortly after, but not without bidding her new friends goodbye.

You stood in the sidelines waiting for her as she moved all around the room.

You then found yourself praying to whatever god there is up there to allow the ground to open up and swallow you (or Ellie) whole, because with all of her careless wandering, she mistakenly bumped into Abby, nearly spilling the last of her drink on her. Nearly. That part you were grateful for.

“Oh shit, man, my bad,” Ellie chuckled. She did not sound the least bit apologetic. In fact, she only sounded proud of herself. You wondered if it had even been accidental at all.

Abby recognized Ellie immediately, of course she did. She was not only looking at you the whole time, but as well as glaring holes into the back of Ellie’s skull.

“Oh please, don’t pretend like that wasn’t deliberate,” Abby said harshly. Ellie grinned mockingly, glad that she managed to get such a reaction from the blonde.

“Aw, what’s making you so hostile, Abby? Makes it seem like you’ve got a personal grudge against me.” Ellie just kept pushing Abby’s buttons, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. If there was one thing Ellie was good at, it was riling people up.

You practically sprinted to them, grabbing Ellie’s hand and gesturing for her to leave.

You met Abby’s eyes once again, but this time was different, because now you stood close enough to really look at her again; close enough to get another hint of her intoxicating smell.

Once again, she broke eye contact.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think someone’s a little jealous,” Ellie pushed again, trying to get another reaction from Abby. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You’re jealous that she’s got me now.” Ellie grinned again, enjoying the sight of Abby’s scowling face.

“Ellie!” You yelled. You were getting upset as well as embarrassed. Whatever Abby was mad at you for, she was definitely never forgiving you now. You pushed Ellie’s arm away and tried to grab her and leave once again. You were ignored.

“Jealous?” Abby scoffed, she was the one grinning now. “You’re just a replacement. You realize that, right? If it weren’t for me leaving her, she wouldn’t even spare your desperate ass a glance.”

You were left aghast at Abby’s words, Ellie clearly was too. She tried to hide it, but it was clear Abby’s words had hurt her.

You opened your mouth to defend Ellie. You loved Abby, that would never change, but you would not stand for anyone talking to Ellie like that and speaking lies about you. But Ellie interrupted you before you had the chance.

“Yeah? ‘Least I never fuckin’ ghosted her or made her feel like shit the way you did; at least she’s happy with me. So yeah, got your girl now, bitch,” Ellie retorted, looking evidently proud of herself for that last sentence. Clearly she still found this fun.

Abby’s clearly had enough of childish banter. One thing about her is that she was never afraid to get violent.

She took a step forward and shoved Ellie, nearly knocking her off her balance. You were ready to interfere, until Ellie shoved Abby right back with the same amount of zeal.

Everyone’s attention was on them now, not including those who were black out drunk. The entirety of the bar went quiet, staring at the two women in excitement. As if you thought this couldn’t get any more humiliating.

“You both are fucking childish,” you yelled and tried to get in between them.

Quite the dumb move on your end. The punch Abby threw was meant for Ellie, but with your careless action of stepping in, you were the one taking the hit, your head snapping back.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for Abby to hastily grab your face, softly cradling it between her hands.

“Fuck, marigold, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you,” she spoke quickly. The tone in her voice was scared and replete with concern. It was evident on her face.

She seemed surprised by her own actions as well. She didn’t think nor intend to hold you like that. When it came to her, protecting you almost felt like a natural instinct.

The feeling of her hands on your skin and her face so close to yours nearly made you forget the aching pain on your cheek.

You snapped out of it swiftly and pushed her hands away from you, sending her back.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” was all you said. It was bitter, laced with venom. Abby looked hurt, but mostly ashamed of herself. She didn’t speak.

“Now can we just leave already?” You groaned and turned to Ellie.

“Yeah…” she breathed, still glaring holes at Abby.

You grabbed Ellie’s arm and finally left. It took everything in you not to look back at Abby. You wished you didn’t care about her so much.

You were now back at your house, examining the swollen area on your cheek which you knew would soon be a shade of purple.

You spent most of your time in your head, replaying that incident continuously.

What you truly could not manage to get out of your head was how Abby had reacted when she’d accidentally hit you. That name she called you: you were certain you would never hear her utter that word again.

You were both confused and comforted by the gesture, but you tried not to dwell on it.

“God, she’s even worse than you described. What a bitch.” Ellie had been ranting and moaning about Abby for what felt like all night.

You tried to tune her out, not wanting to think about Abby so much. Is this what Ellie felt with you?

“You should’ve let me fight her. I mean, she’s big as shit, but I could definitely take her on.” She took a moment to observe herself in the mirror. “Definitely,” she repeated.

“Ow!” You flinched as you poked your swollen skin. That got Ellie to stop her ranting and come to your aid.

“You okay?” Ellie held your jaw and observed your cheek.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” you trailed off. “You started that fight on purpose, didn’t you?”

Ellie raised her brows at your question and smiled slightly. “Nah. Trust me, if it was deliberate, I would’ve spilled my drink on her. This was just a happy accident, as Bob Ross once said.”

“Yeah, well your happy accident got me a punch to the face, but I’m glad you found it fun.” You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the mirror.

“Actually, you jumping in between us is why you got punched. Seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted you guys to stop.”

Ellie frowned and crossed her arms, an expression of remorse scrawled upon her features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. She’s just… she’s so fucking confusing, Ellie,” you said and buried your face in your hands.

“I know,” Ellie empathized. She wasn’t the best at comforting, always getting awkward in serious situations. But what she offered was her ear, and that was all you needed.

“I mean, what the hell was that? Did you see how she grabbed me? What she called me? Why does she think she can just do that after everything?” You were trying to remain calm, which wasn’t easy with Ellie staring at you so sympathetically. “Why does she still act like I mean something to her?”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you do,” Ellie suggested, placing her hand on your back and offering you some much needed physical comfort.

It really did not make any sense, Abby’s actions only managing to confuse you more. Could she really have cared about you? Was there still something there, or did she merely feel guilty for hurting you?

Now what you had planned to uplift your mood and ease your sorrow had been ruined by Abby’s presence. It seemed as though she haunted you everywhere, bringing nothing but ache and destruction alongside.

𑁍

Abby felt weak.

She had tried to avoid you, as she usually did, but the memories of what had occurred the other night played endlessly in her mind, fueling her with guilt.

She’d tried to make herself stop caring, convincing herself that you meant nothing to her and that what had happened the night prior did not affect her, but to no avail.

She cared about you, and that would never change. She could avoid looking at your face as much as she wanted, but your image was forever seared into her mind.

Today was a particularly gruesome one. You did not bother to hide the bruise that formed, and Abby didn’t fail to notice.

She had tried to walk up to you and apologize, each time cowardice and shame taking a hold of her and turning her back around.

The idea of speaking to you again after everything intimidated her, which was quite unusual for someone like Abby. She never anticipated a time would come where she would be apprehensive about facing you.

Unfortunately for her, you did not lack discernment. You noticed her reluctance in making her way to you; noticed the way she was internally battling herself.

You stood outside, bidding Ellie goodbye as she left to go back home.

When Ellie was finally gone, Abby walked up to you again, and you hoped for what seemed like the hundredth time that this time she would not turn back around. You didn’t know whether you planned to forgive her or not, but you still wanted her to speak to you.

When she noticed you looking at her as she made her way to you, she stopped at a halt and turned back around.

Her actions and timidity were beginning to frustrate you, but right as you were about to speak up, she turned around once again and walked towards you, this time faster, as if she wanted to get it over with before her apprehension got a hold of her once more.

“Hey,” she spoke, her voice laced with discomfort.

The gleam in her eyes changed as she got another look at your bruised cheek, feeling infinitely more guilty.

You didn’t reply and simply waited for her to get to her point. You wanted it to seem like it was because you were mad at her (and you were), but in truth you were at a loss for words.

Because she was here. She was speaking to you; she was looking at you. It took everything in you not to break down into tears at that seemingly insignificant act.

“So…” she trailed off, eyes scanning everywhere timidly. “I just wanted to say that I am so, so sorry. For hitting you, I mean. I swear, I meant to hit Ellie but you got in the way— not that I’m saying it’s your fault, because it wasn’t—” she was rambling now, her nerves getting the best of her. If you were any less hurt, you would laugh and call her cute.

“What the hell do you want, Abby?” You interrupted aggressively, which earned you a look of both shame and bewilderment.

“To… apologize?” She said it more like a question. She was slightly rendered uneasy by your anger, but she did not blame you in the slightest nor was she surprised. It only made the guilt grow into something more unbearable.

“Apologize, huh? Don’t you think you have other things to apologize for? You think this—“ you pointed at your bruised cheek, “is what hurt me?”

Abby took another look at your cheek. She didn’t reply. She looked down and crossed her arms, hugging her sides. Your eyes followed her hands and noticed the way she dug her nails into the skin of her hips, her knuckles slightly turning white.

You remembered all the times where you would scold her for that bad habit of hers, asking her why she’s so nervous and having her brush you off and ask you not to fret.

“Just let me-“

“No, Abigail. I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear you right now,” you interrupted. “You said you never wanted to see me again, so why don’t you just stick to your word?” Your heart broke into a few more pieces at the mention of that night, remembering all the things she had said and that distant tone in her voice. Her heart broke as well, remembering how cruel she was and the painful look on your face.

“Why do you have to be so damn confusing? Why are you contradicting yourself by saying you never want to see me again, only to keep looking at me with those fucking eyes, starting childish fights, calling me marigold, and now you wanna try to talk to me and expect forgiveness?” You were yelling at this point, letting everything spill out with no control or filter.

And Abby was quiet, understanding. She was listening. Her knuckles were turning whiter with every word you spoke, her eyes slightly glistening.

“You left me without a word. You never tried to talk to me about what happened, maybe we could have fixed it!”

“You wouldn’t-”

“No!” You interrupted again, not wanting to hear her voice and only spilling what has been bottled up inside you. “Don’t speak and let me finish! You didn’t talk to me, Abby. Do you have any comprehension of how terrible I felt? Did you enjoy knowing that I spent nights wondering how the hell I was supposed to fix what you destroyed?”

“I-”

“I’m not done! What made you think that you could just walk up to me and-”

“Stop!” She was the one to interrupt you this time. “I love you,” she said before she could think. It was said quietly, softly, and this time she was looking you in the eye.

That definitely shut you up. You stood there, gawking. You were trying to form words, but none came to mind. Your head was empty, but your heart was heavy, filled with emotions you couldn’t quite place.

Abby was clearly getting anxious by your lack of response, so she spoke again.

“I don’t know if you’ll accept my reasoning for what I did, but that’s it, and I’m sorry. I did it because I loved you. Because I love you.” Her voice was shaking slightly. She was afraid. It was painfully obvious.

“Why- why didn’t you tell me?” You stuttered, dumbfounded. Of all the possibilities you considered that might have been the cause of what happened, this was something that would have never crossed your mind. Not in a million years.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She laughed, though her voice held no humor in it, laden only with pain. “I didn’t wanna lose you. I was afraid I’d ruin what we have,” she said, digging her nails even deeper into her skin. “But now I already did.”

The last part was quiet, spoken slightly above a whisper. She no longer met your eyes, detaching herself from you almost completely. She was sure this was the last time you would ever speak to her again. This is where you would let her go.

It undoubtedly hurt and scared her to reveal herself to you; to finally speak the words that were sure to cause you to let her go, but she didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

She would face her feelings and allow you to leave because of it. The words you had just screamed at her did not fall on deaf ears and she would no longer leave you ignorant to the truth and pained from the untold.

You offered no response. Endless words and confessions played in your head, but none left your mouth. You felt frozen, but you also wanted to know what else she had to say.

Abby’s apprehension only grew at your silence. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I knew you wouldn’t take this so kindly but I just needed to get it off my chest and I am so, so sorry. I understand if you don’t wanna talk-”

Her profuse rambling was interrupted by your lips on hers. Your mouth didn’t move, only feeling the soft plush of her lips against your own.

The kiss ended as quickly as it came. Her eyes were wide and she was left gawking. “So that’s how I get you to shut up,” you joked.

“Fuck, come here,” she breathed. She grabbed your face and swiftly pulled it to hers, meeting your lips in another, more passionate kiss.

You pulled her in further by the collar of her shirt. You were so close that you could feel your hearts beating against each other. You could not imagine anything more intimate.

Her lips were slightly chapped, yet still soft and plush, and she tasted beautifully. It was as if the heavens had descended from the skies and given you a taste of its richest, most forbidden fruit.

You forced yourself to separate your lips so you could catch your breath. You pulled away and met her face, her eyes heavy and mouth slightly agape. She looked beautiful like this, all blissed out. The sun kissing her face reflected the gleam in her eyes like light beams in the sky. You smiled at the scene.

“I love you too, you idiot.”

“I love you, my marigold.”

𑁍

a/n: this took so fucking long I don’t even know if people are interested in reading it anymore but here it is

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@grey-jedi12

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Teen Villain Alliance Chapter 6

When Fenton had given Damian his task of attending classes and picking a team, he hadn’t expected to start enjoying it. 

Which was a miscalculation on Damian’s part. Damian had always enjoyed learning; his mother had been indulgent with what he learned as a child, sending tutors in everything that caught his interest, from art to world history to veterinary medicine. It wasn’t until his education in assassination began in earnest–around his 7th birthday–that his interests were stifled. And when he’d been sent to live with Father, it ground to a halt.

It took months for Father to deem him “tamed” enough to introduce him to the public, and even then he was  not allowed an education. While Damian was grateful that he wouldn’t endure public schooling, Father didn’t even allow tutors on the premises. Instead, Damian attended “online school” which consisted of video lectures and multiple choice quizzes on topics he’d covered years ago. In addition to the online school, he had daily lectures on “ethics” and “societal norms” from either Pennyworth or Grayson, neither of which were experts in the area. He’d asked. 

The TVA was different. Better, if he were honest, but he’d never admit it aloud. The teachers were ghosts, experts in their fields. Who else could say that they learned chemistry from Maria Skłodowska-Curie, or battle tactics from the first Amazonian, Pandora? The ghosts around him were not stuck in the past, nor apathetic to life on earth; instead, they kept learning, kept evolving, with a careful eye on the world outside the Infinite Realms. 

And despite himself, Damian even enjoyed having classmates. No class was large–most didn’t have more than 10 students per teacher–and many classes involved a debate aspect that allowed them to get to know each other. Just the other day, Damian had spent over an hour discussing the methods for creating a locked door murder with Shadowblade, a 14-year-old ninja from Japan. 

There was no competition, with the exception of combat classes. In the League, and at Wanye Manor, he was always competing. To be the best so he wouldn’t be replaced, to be strong to live up to the name of Al Ghul. Competing for Father’s attention, his approval, over the ingrates that make claims to a birthright that is not their own. With Grayson, Todd, Cain, Drake; each of them stronger, faster, better trained, better behaved. 

Trusted. 

Was it any wonder that Damian had jumped at the chance to prove himself?

Dr. Fenton–Danny, the man had insisted–trusted him. He wanted Damian to lead his team in the field. In his hand was a list of all the members he would work with, and the paper was tacky with sweat. Taking a deep breath, Damian knocked on the door to Fenton’s lab. 

After a few minutes, Fenton opened the door. He looked frazzled, hair astray and lab-coat half on. “Damian!” He said, smiling brightly. “I wasn’t expecting you, come in! I just reached a good stopping point for my latest project.” He invited Damian into the lab. “What can I help you with?”

Damian held out his list. “These are the four members of the TVA that I thought will work best as your infiltration squad.” He’d thought long and hard about who had the skills to join and, more importantly, who he could tolerate working directly under him. 

Fenton smiled. “That’s great! Have you started talking to them? Making friends?”

“...Some,” Damian decided on, thinking back to Shadowblade. “Everyone on that list has skills or abilities that would enable easy information gathering. I have yet to approach them though; I thought you’d prefer to determine if I’ve made the right choice.”

“Fantastic! I’ll give them to Jazz in a bit, see if there’ll be any conflicts. How’s everything going for you? Have you enjoyed all your classes?”

Damian nodded, but looked away. There was another reason why he was here. “May I… ask you something? I’ve encountered a conundrum that I could use advice for.”

“Of course! I’m always willing to ask. But if I may ask, why don’t you ask Jazz? She’s mentioned that she hasn’t seen you in her office once, and she gives fantastic advice.”

Damian made a face. “I see no reason to submit myself to brainwashing when I am already a loyal member of this organization. There’s no need for me to attend.”

Danny’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, we’ll come back to that eventually. But what’s bugging you, Damian?”

Damian swallowed. Suddenly, all the anger from the thought of therapy drained out of him and he sagged. “Is it… bad? That I am happier now than I was before?”

“What do you mean?” Danny asked, leading Damian over to a couch near the entrance of the lab. It was clearly a recreational space, with a gaming system in front of a TV. Damian sat beside him as he considered his words. 

“I… enjoy my time here. I like it more than I’ve liked anywhere else. And I should not. I shouldn’t be enjoying this life while leaving the people who raised me behind. My mother, my grandfather—this feels like a betrayal.” His father would be so disappointed in him if he learned how affected these villains made Damian. 

Danny’s face softened. He took in a deep breath, turning in his seat to face him. “I can understand that. Did something similar to my folks when I joined Phantom, you know.”

“...Really?” No one knew about the Wolves' pasts. Many of his fellows speculated, but no one knew for sure. The top theory for Fenton was that he was a mad scientist on the run from the government. 

“Yeah.” Danny nodded, glancing down for a moment before meeting Damian’s gaze. “When I was your age, I... betrayed my parents too. Not in the same way as you, but... my parents were ghost hunters. They spent their lives teaching me and my sister that ghosts were dangerous, evil. And for a long time, I believed them. But then they built a portal to the Ghost Zone, and ghosts starting coming through, and Phantom happened, and…” He looked away, swallowing. “I realized how wrong they were.”

He paused, gauging Damian’s reaction. The boy was listening, quiet but intense.

“I ended up siding with the very things they want to destroy,” Danny continued. “They want to indiscriminately massacre an entire species. They even co-authored a law that makes it legal to experiment and execute ghosts in American territory.” 

“What?” Damian couldn’t believe what he was saying. There couldn’t be a law that so blatantly breaks the Metahumans Protection Act, right? The Justice League–Father–would never stand for it. 

“It’s true,” Fenton said, as if to counter Damian’s thoughts. Damian boosted his mental shields just in case Fenton was a telepath. “There’s a whole government organization dedicated to ‘researching’ ghosts. Of course, they’re more interested in dissecting them.” Damian shuttered. “See? It’s clear that they’re in the wrong in this instance. That helps me some, when I keep thinking about how I betrayed my parents. But even knowing I was doing the right thing, it still hurts. Sometimes the people who are supposed to protect us and put us first end up hurting us the worst.”

Fenton placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid. You’re so smart, and you have so much potential. But what your grandfather did to you was wrong. What your mother did was wrong. And you have every right to distance yourself from any situation where you feel unsafe.”

Damian looked away. “They were just trying to make me stronger,” he muttered. 

“Would you ever do what they did to someone else? Even to make them stronger?”

Damian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his mind swirling with memories of training, the endless demands for perfection, the blood on his hands. He thought about how much he had been shaped by the League, how much he had been forced to be something he hadn’t chosen. And then there was his father. He had felt so out of place, constantly trying to meet expectations he didn’t fully understand, let alone agree with.

“No,” Damian whispered, the answer clear. “I wouldn’t.”

“Then there’s your answer,” Danny said, smiling gently. “It doesn’t matter what they wanted for you. You’re not betraying them by living a better life or by choosing a path they wouldn’t have chosen for you.”

Damian stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing Danny’s words. A small weight lifted from his chest. He didn’t need to feel guilty for enjoying this life—this better life—away from the constant pressure of the League, or from the expectations of his father.

Danny leaned back again, folding his arms behind his head, the familiar goofy grin returning. “And hey, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing pretty awesome here. You kicked butt in those combat drills last week.”

Damian flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “You saw those?”

“Yup,” Danny popped his lips, grinning smugly. “Sam and Phantom are so jealous you’re on my team instead of theirs. They’re planning to poach you, but I trust that you’ll dismiss their bribes.”

A small, rare smile tugged at Damian’s lips.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

The not so Princely Prince Charming

A/n: @d3vilstower thank you sm for requesting this, this was such a good idea and I hope I was able to write it in a satisfying way!

Warnings: Angst, yelling, smoking, smut, fingering(f receiving), oral(f receiving), creampie, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You met Slash in high school. He was an introvert, always keeping to himself at the back of the class, though he was also a trouble maker. He’d fall asleep in class, his grades were dogshit and he respected pretty much no one and only had a few friends he barely hung around. Yet you saw something so indescribably perfect about him.

Since you were known as a good kid, getting good grades, being nice to everyone, you were often sat next to the ‘bad’ kids in hopes that your good behaviour would rub off on them. Of course this never worked but if it got you a seat next to Slash you were more than happy to comply.

Whenever he fell asleep you put your sweater under his head to use as a pillow. You’d write extra notes and give them to him, whether he used them or not didn’t matter, you just wanted a reason to talk to him.

Occasionally the teacher would call on him when he was sleeping in an attempt to embarrass him. He’d wake up all groggy, you’d write the answer on a slip of paper and discreetly show it to him. This infuriated the teachers, neither you nor Slash cared.

Slowly he grew fond of you. Not in the sense that he was starting to find you attractive, he’d just never had someone treat him like that and the initial lust was morphing to a deeper connection.

He started bringing you snacks and he’d keep track of your favourite ones so he’d remember which ones to grab next time he was out.

Then he started sticking around you between classes, since he preferred to be alone he managed to get you away from your friends so it could just be you two. It didn’t always work and sometimes you’d drag him to sit at a table and actually eat with you and your friends rather than smoke out by the benches in the field.

It was a codependence thing at first. He wasn’t good at being around people and you were, the extrovert adopts the introvert situation.

Your friends weren’t all too happy to be sharing a table with Slash, with his big hair and crunchy clothes. He just didn’t fit in and they didn’t think he was the best for you, and they told you so to your face in front of him.

You always brushed them off, saying something about how you were just friends. And you kept that line when they called you to talk about it while Slash was between your thighs, struggling to hold back moans as he ate you out like a man starved.

Slash only came over when you were home alone because your parents were conservative, they hated the whole rock movement and sheltered you from it as best they could. Luckily, Slash showed you every part of it, even educating you on parts that he didn’t particularly care for because he didn’t want to shelter you either.

While you didn’t tell your parents who you were dating, you did tell them you met a guy. Of course they wanted to meet him right away and get to know him, make sure he was the right match for you, or rather them.

You knew they’d never accept him but you wanted him to meet your parents. Slash had helped you distance yourself from the lifestyle your parents had raised you in but deep down you still felt the need to have their approval. So you planned a dinner.

You brought Slash over after school, it took some convincing since he didn’t care too much to meet your parents but now you were at your front door, holding his hand tightly as you rang the doorbell for your parents to answer.

Your dad opened the door with a smile that quickly faded as he eyed the man beside you. “And this is him?” He asked, looking to you for confirmation. Slash also looked at you with an expression that just read ‘I told you so’. You ignored him.

“Yes, dad, this is my boyfriend.” You said with a bright smile. Your dad let out a heavy sigh and grudgingly reached his hand out for Slash to shake.

“Well, I’m glad that I’m meeting you, Saul.” You took note of how he phrased it.

“Slash, sir.” Your boyfriend corrected him. By your fathers expression you could tell he didn’t like that.

“You’re Saul tonight.” He stated and walked back into the house. Slash looked to you again, you looked back at him with a soft smile and pulled him into your home.

Dinner went worse than you expected. Slash had tried to remain civil, he was polite and didn’t speak unless he was spoken to. It was your parents that did everything in their power to tick him off, complaining about degenerate kids who did nothing but cause trouble.

You’ll never forget that night. Not the way they yelled at Slash nor the way he yelled back. It was like something snapped in him. You’d seen him upset before but nothing compared to this, he’d always been so soft spoken with you, sweet and compassionate. This was totally different.

You were sobbing and ran upstairs to your room, Slash followed suit. He slammed the door behind himself and locked it. You stared blankly at him, tears streaming down your cheeks while he threw some of your clothes into a bag.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, voice shaky and weak.

“Packing.” He said in a firm tone, his voice raised.

“Why?”

“We’re fucking leaving!” He yelled, tossing the bag to you. It landed in your lap with a thud. Slash came over and held a hand out for you to take. “Now come on.” You hesitated. Could you really just pack up and leave your family?

Your parents started banging on your door, demanding to get in but you ignored them. Slash sat next to you, his hands on either of your shoulders. “Look, I’m not gonna up and leave you because you don’t want to come with me.” You sniffled softly as he said this and he wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I’d just rather you come with me than be stuck with them.” You nodded in understanding.

Slash pulled you closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “I love you.” You mumbled. Slash stuttered in his movements for a second before squeezing you gently.

“I love you too.” He kissed the top of your head.

After that night your parents forbid you from seeing him anymore, even going as far as to tell your friends to keep an eye on you which you didn’t know about. You found out after bringing Slash over to eat lunch with you and your friends, that night it started an argument between you and your parents.

They made you switch schools so you wouldn’t have as much easy access to your relationship. They gave you strict schedules filled with extracurriculars to keep you busy and away from Slash. You still found your ways together, late at night you’d sneak out with him just to wander around.

As time progressed you drifted apart. It was no one's fault, the both of you simply happened to leave it. Maybe it was too hard on you, maybe his feelings for you faded. You never forgot him.

You found another man, one your parents approved of. You said you loved him, told everyone and yourself that, but he was just a cheap filler for the cavity left by Slash.

You watched from afar as Slash’s band took off, hearing about all his relationships, the things he got up to. You bought every magazine Guns N’ Roses was featured in, bought posters and their albums. Anything to bring little bits of Slash back into your life.

The man you met proposed to you with your whole family watching, of course you couldn’t say no. You wanted to, oh how badly you wished you could’ve told him and everyone else off for ruining your chance at love.

He never approved of your little ‘hobby’ as he called it. Always making jokes that seemed to cross a line every time. But you couldn’t say anything about it. This was the life your family wanted for you, a good man with a good paying job to support you and your soon to be family.

Your mother was happiest about this and helped you plan the wedding, which was really just her planning everything while you sat pretty for her, fake smile and all.

The wedding neared and you dreaded every day of it. You started getting rid of all your Guns N’ Roses things, knowing there was no use in keeping any of it anymore. You got into a routine of making three meals a day, getting a glass of whiskey ready for your soon to be husband every day after he got home from work.

You walked up the aisle in a dress you never liked, between families you never wanted, to a husband you never loved.

The priest went over the whole ordeal, asking for the vows. You’d memorised what your mother had written up for you. She needed this day to be perfect for her own little fantasy.

“And do you, Y/n L/n, take H/n L/n to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asked. All eyes now on you as you stood at the end of the chapel, white wedding dress adorned as if you were innocent a day after you met Slash. You knew you should say it, it’s what everyone wanted.

You glanced at your parents and saw the fury in their eyes. You looked up to your fiance, his eyes sharing a similar glower. If you said yes now he’d never forgive you, you’d regret it every day of your life.

You shook your head, dropping the bouquet of pristine flowers in your hands and ran down the aisle, holding your dress up to keep from tripping over it. Everyone called for you to come back, a few even standing to run after you. Hands reached out for you, all of which you managed to avoid with the adrenaline rushing through you in the moment.

The grand doors opened and the cool air hit you. Right outside was a fancy black car you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Slash stepped out of the driver's side and stared at you, eyes wandering up and down your body in pure admiration for your beauty. “That dress looks like shit on you.” He said. You smiled, tears streaming down your cheeks as you ran to the car, quickly getting in the passenger seat.

Slash got back in, his arms going around you and pulling you in for a kiss. All those feelings you’d been trying to leave behind rushing back to you as his hands roamed your body, tugging at the uncomfortable wedding dress you’d been put in, plush lips meshing so perfectly with yours.

Your mother calling your name from the chapel doors is what caught your attention and you pulled away from Slash. “Drive.” You ordered.

“What?” Slash asked, caught off guard from the sudden loss of contact.

“Drive!” You repeated as your mother neared the car. Slash wasted no time in getting you out of there, ignoring the speed limit as he drove.

“Could you slow down?” You asked, reaching for his hand to get his attention. “You’re gonna get pulled over.” Slash shook his head.

“Don’t care, I can pay off a ticket.” You looked over to him and it really hit you. He came back for you. This was Slash. The boy you’d seen falling asleep in class, who got you snacks and followed you around because he didn’t know where else to go. The kid who gave you your first cigarette and laughed when you started coughing. Who held you when you cried.

Except now he was Slash, guitarist of big band Guns N’ Roses, travelling the world and fulfilling his dreams.

“Why’d you come?” You finally asked. You needed an answer after everything. He never tried to contact you. You never tried to contact him either.

His eyes flickered to you then back to the road. “Because I love you.” He said as if it was just yesterday you said that to each other for the first time. “I saw it in the papers that you were getting married to some guy, even in that picture I could see you didn’t want to be there.”

You held his arm close, clinging to it as he drove, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” He kissed the top of your head and kept driving.

“Where are we going?” You asked when you realised you didn’t know where you were.

“My place.” He said simply. “Your family doesn’t know where I live.” You smiled and kissed his cheek.

You’d seen pictures of his house before. At night you’d think of what it would be like to live there with him. When you closed your eyes you could almost pretend he was holding you in that house, that smell of musky cologne and cigarettes washing away all your worries. Then you’d open them and still be stuck living this life you never wanted.

His house was much bigger in person. In a rich neighbourhood, surrounded by forestry. He drove up the long driveway and parked the car, getting out before you so he could open the door for you. He reached for your hand to help you out but you waved it off. “I can get out by myself.” You reminded him, he just smiled lovingly at you and held the door open.

His arm went around your waist, holding you close as he guided you into the house. As soon as the door closed he was on you again, lips crashing together, hands groping each other.

Your hands lost in his hair, tugging on it and pulling him in just as you used to, now with more need than before. Slash pulled at your dress until it ripped, tearing it off of you bit by bit. “Stupid fucking dress.” He grumbled in your ear. “Should’ve been me standing there with you.” He kissed down your neck, over your bare chest after he flung your bra away.

He cupped your chest, kissing, sucking and pinching your nipples, your back pressed against the door as he slid down your body. He looked up at you as he took off your panties and garters, watching every reaction you had as he started licking between your folds, tongue flicking your clit and dipping into you.

His hands held your thighs in a tight grip, one hand letting go so he could finger you and get you ready for him. Your hands were still in his hair, holding his head to your cunt as your hips buckled. Your legs were weak and you couldn’t care less, you were finally getting what you’d been craving for years.

Slash could feel when you were close, how your gummy walls fluttered around his talented fingers. He sucked on your needy clit, tongue flicking it repeatedly until you called out his name, a string of curses following it.

Slash got out of his clothes in a lustful haste to have more of you. He stood and grabbed you, pulling you tight to him as his lips met yours again. You pulled at each other, Slash picked you up and your legs wrapped around him. He stumbled over to a table, pushing into you and starting with an already brutal pace.

You bit his neck and he stumbled back, pushing you up against a wall when he regained his balance. He fucked into you like a mutt who’d found a bitch in heat. Loud moans left you while Slash’s grunts and groans rang in your ears.

He took a step back and nearly toppled over but managed to get you over to the couch. His face was in the crook of your neck, thumb rubbing your clit while his other arm held you to him, hips snapping into you harshly.

You moaned out his name, nails digging into his back. That knot came back in your gut. “Fuck! Slash-Slash, ‘m-’m close.” You whined, clawing at his arms. Slash sat up, lifting your hips over his and grabbing your arms, your knees hooked over his shoulders as he fucked you.

“Been waiting to see that pretty face cumming for so long.” He mumbled through gritted teeth. “Bet he never made you feel as good as I can, hm? Always pretended it was me with you, didn’t you?” You nodded, eyes rolling back as you came around his cock.

After being apart for so many years you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t process anything that was happening other than shocks of pleasure rocketing through you over and over again, Slash’s pretty fucked out face looking down at you when his eyes weren’t shut our rolling back.

Slash was barely conscious himself but he wasn’t done. Both of you were crying from the overstimulation, the couch was ruined and Slash had lost any sense of rhythm a while ago, only focusing on cumming again. Cum was smeared over your ass, his hips and abdomen as well. The room filled with the sound of wet skin and whining.

Finally Slash’s hips came to a halt as he came again, this time he let himself doing, laying his whole weight on you. You were both breathing heavy, hearts pounding.

After a moment you heard Slash sniffling. He moved up and lazily kissed your cheek, that was all he could manage. “I love you.” He whispered in your ear. “And no one’s gonna take you from me again, alright?” You nodded weakly.

You stayed there on the couch for the night. It was a mess, you were sticky and gross, so were Slash and the couch. Neither of you had the energy to move or clean up in the moment, even if you wanted to you found yourself asleep before you could make up your mind.

You awoke the next morning in a bed, all cleaned up and in clean clothes. Not your clothes but Slash’s. A band tee that was a few sizes too big for you and the panties you’d had on the day before.

Slash wasn’t with you but you heard music coming from downstairs and figured that’s where he was. You started getting out of bed but your knees buckled and you had to sit down again.

The bedroom door opened and your favourite boy came in with a bed table full of food. “You’re up.” He said with a smile. He came over and sat next to you on the bed.

“You learned how to cook?” You asked, seeing the small feast. Slash laughed and shook his head.

“No, I ordered out.” You smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and started eating, giving you a few bites here and there when he saw you weren’t eating. “Not hungry?”

You shook your head. “Just tired.” You said, kissing his cheek. Slash nodded but continued to give you bites, still wanting to make sure you ate.

You talked about everything that’s been going on in your separate lives, catching each other up on everything. Slash constantly assured you you wouldn’t have to go back to anyone, that you’d be safe with him and he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him.

Finally you had that happily ever after you’d been looking for, that prince in not so shiny boots with a guitar instead of a sword, a tour bus as his trusty steed. You didn’t care, he was yours at last and he finally had his perfect girl under his arm.

[umbravirtus]

Starter for @wintersovereign

Hans waited again outside his father's office. All his duties were done earlier, so he could see him as he retired for the night. It's been their routine for 2 months now, Hans waits outside the red and gold doors and Ulrich pretends he's not there, but today, The King of the Southern Isles has decided to indulge him. With a disappointed, nay tired sigh Ulrich motions for his youngest to enter his office, and Hans follows. The doors are closed behind them by the guards. Hans feels the stuffy air of the place and remembers how small he felt every time he entered, how his father's booming voice and presence seemed to fill the space, asphyxiating him. But he has a mission today.

Everything in the king's office was a testament to his prowess, his accomplishments, and more. Hunting trophies mounted to a wall above the chimney, sports trophies and medals won by himself and his sons on a glass case, war game trophies behind his tall rest chair. Without saying a word King Ulrich invited Hans to sit, interested in whatever his youngest had to say, and sat himself, the chair under him made a sound as if the weight of the king was too much to bear.

"You've been persistent and patient, waiting me out daily for months. You're also shooting too high as I shall remind you, you're a stable boy after your stunt in Arendelle, and no stable boy can speak directly to his king, there are channels you have to go through, so clearly, whatever you have to say must be important." He makes a pause

"Important enough to let me know you have too much free time, to wait for me and need more duties added to your plate." Ulrich sentences and watches his son in front of him, determined, unwavering. Interesting he thought, but kept to himself. His expression is unmoving.

This was, as far as he was concerned, out of character for Hans.

"You may speak." Ulrich finally says. This better be good. Hans swallows, doing everything to hide how his hands shook as he put a paper on his father's desk and spoke with firm conviction but an even tone. "Your grace," he has lost the right to call him father, per his punishment, but he should address him differently for even in his fallen status he was still his blood and above the common rabble, or so Ulrich said.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle has been sentenced to death by Pyre by the church." Hans goes straight to the point. Ulrich arched a brow amused, raising a hand for Hans to stop talking, he interjected.

"And you're here for what reason, exactly, vindication? To say you were right and she's a witch? Everyone with eyes present in Arendelle saw that, Hans." Urlich scoffs, shaking his head "But if you must hear it, boy, you were right, she is a witch, still, the perception remains you're a regicide and have stained the good name of the Westergaards, you either shouldn't done heroics, like the rest of the present or should have succeeded in taking an empty throne, but you did neither." Ulrich felt like he knew this was a mistake and that he regretted entertaining his son, he was about to stand up, and this was him making excuses again when he heard Hans speak out of turn. "We should save her, your grace." The younger says, eyes fixed on his father.

Ulrich knows the fear his sons have of him, he worked hard to put it there, so Hans, meek, sensible, goofy Hans speaking out of turn was a welcome surprise. He sat down again.

"Are you guilty, my boy?" He asks "Perhaps, taken by her?" he questions hand on his chin. "I was, taken by her your grace, but not anymore." Hans fessed up, he suspected his father knew about his letters.

"Really" Ulrich sounds amused and surprised. "And why should we save her, boy?" he wonders "What's in it for us, for our kingdom?"

"I won't insult your intelligence by telling your grace, she would be a powerful ally, nor will I say, this is the way to Arendelle, his grace was waiting for, since with the Queen gone the kingdom is ripe for the taking by our allies in Weselton, I won't either pretend to know what's right given my shortsightedness for which you've granted me the chance at penance, I will say, your grace, the most powerful reason is that she's a mouse."

As far as he was concerned Hans just spent half an hour stating the obvious but he was not wrong if he had given him any of those reasons to save Elsa he wouldn't have. "A mouse?" the king repeats. "How so?" he was actually interested in what Hans had to say, nay, for the first time in his youngest life.

"She's a girl without a father's guidance, she's been alone for the best part of her life, in seclusion, and she's got the prowess but she's scared, that's who I saw on the fjord, a scared girl that needs a father and a mentor, she's a mouse."

Ulrich listens intently. The truth was, he never wanted to hear Hans' version of events, but he knew enough to know what he was talking about "And yet, you decided to kill her." He points out, watching for his reaction.

"Yes, Your Grace, for she had stricken her sibling's heart with a blast of magical ice and she was, as far as this servant was concerned on death's door; her limbs and face covered in frost with nothing this servant could or should do for her aid," Hans licks his lips but his eyes remain trained on his father. "I took regretful actions to the detriment of the youngest princess and I am not proud, but I will stand by my actions towards the sovereign, for it was an act of mercy." Ulrich looked at Hans, in front of him and nodded. "Gustav," he calls his chamberlain, his office was to the left of the King, and the doors opened "Yes, Your Majesty."

"See that Prince Hans is given back his titles, and that he looks as princely as he should upon my return. Prepare Berzerker, tell Franz, Viktor, and Lars we're departing as soon as the ship is ready." "Yes, Your Majesty," Gustav says and leaves, to start the machinery needed to put the massive vessel in motion.

Hans was astounded. Frozen in place. Ulrich finally stands and pats his shoulder, "I'll go fetch the Queen, Hans" Hans, not boy.

Hans knew this would come with a cost, but he was willing to pay the price. "We'll talk about this when I come back," Ulrich announces and leaves the office to ready himself for the travel, once Hans is left alone in the office, he collapses into the chair in his arms, finally shaking, releasing his breath he had been holding, tears threatening to fall. What just happened? he wonders.

To Ulrich, Hans was right, she was a mouse, but a mouse that had managed in three days what he couldn't, she, singlehandedly took his youngest from a boy to a man, from a mouse to a lion. From someone who gave excuses and was meek in his speech to someone who didn't see him with his gaze downcast, whatever she gave him, he needs more of that.

And if he found an excuse to piss off the church, gain more allies, save face to his current allies, and expand his territory while at it, he was all too happy to do it.

(...)

The southern Isles' fleet arrived in Arendelle as a show of force. Berserker was followed by three other ships and by the looks of it they got there just in time.

When the dock master tried to stop them, they said they were there to stop the execution so at a great risk to himself, he let them through. The people of Arendelle loved their Queen, so insurrection and chaos were the feeling and moment, but a foreign, well-trained, well-funded army was able to quickly take over the small army of Arendelle and everyone had heeded the Queen's request of no bloodshed.

Ulrich guessed the redhead that was being held by three soldiers so she wouldn't run into the pyre was the younger princess. The one Hans was briefly engaged to. The red capes of the four men parted the crowd as Moses parted the sea, and with good reason.

Westergaards came in all shapes and sizes but Ulrich had handpicked the biggest and broadest. There were giant wardrobes of men flanking him, Ulrich himself was smaller but still stood proudly with his 5"8' height yet it was his presence and the air he carried himself with that took space. The experience of kinghood one could guess, and it was easy to see where Hans learned his charm from, the man has a sharp, angular face with high cheekbones, piercing expressive eyes, and a slightly prominent nose. His features often lend him a look of gravitas, giving him a timeless and dignified appearance.

There was an army behind them, nobody wanted to engage just yet but it was clear they would.

The deacon held the unlit torch in his hand when he saw the group arrive. Ulrich and the church already had their issues, they were known enemies, so the deacon recognized them on the spot.

"I presume his majesty is here to witness the execution? perhaps finally bridge the gap between the church and your kingdom by vindicating your son's actions in detaining this foul, evil witch?"

Ulrich's rich, deep, and smooth voice echoed through the crowd His enunciation is precise, and the way he spoke with a measured cadence, giving his dialogue weight and sophistication. All planned.

"Ah, Au contraire, monsignor" Ulrich clocked the man's rank just by his robes. "I am here to take the kingdom from the vile, zealots that hide under a false god and feign righteousness such as yourself" He smiled like the cat that got the cream. He points at Berserker, she has, in the time this interaction has taken place turned around on the docks, the canons, the three rows of them totaling 158 canons, now are facing Arendelle.

The clergymen looked at it nervously. Just when did this happen and how did they get there "My ship has instructions to fire if they see a column of smoke or my signal, none of us, is making it out of here, and my gods will receive me with glory, women and thunderous clap in their hall meanwhile yours, well, might be a little disappointed that you choose" He looks around "This many lives over a little peace agreement."

"You cannot possibly be serious, Majesty this is madness." the man with the torch in his hand spoke. "Queen Elsa," Ulrich spoke directly to her. "You need my aid and my son needs a wife, say yes, so this puny excuse of a man knows, just how serious this is."

[blitzyn]

rookie mistake

dottore x m!reader

Request: Requests are open right? I hope so 🤞 Would I be able to ask for a sub!(male/amab)reader X dom!dottore? With some blackmail and coercion, preferably leaning towards dubious consent but I’m am a-ok with non-con elements, with a fatui/subordinate reader? If you could add in a small scene of him continuing while talking with someone outside the door that’s be awesome 😎 - Anonymous

Synopsis: You accidentally invade Dottore's office in search of intel.

a/n -> yall i know that i said i was on the fence about writing for genshin, but it was dottore and i love him plus i really liked this idea despite it having collected dust in my inbox for decades. whoever requested this: i love your mind and im so sorry it took me forever to decide to write this!! but just a reminder to whoever sees this, i will not be writing for fontaine unless stated otherwise!!

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> non-con, blackmail, coercion, blowjob, deepthroat, literally getting caught, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, standing doggy position, fatuus/infiltrator reader, guys he calls you a rat because you're a spy, not beta read

Your job was straightforward. But it was also one of the most grueling missions you've ever been assigned to.

With your status as an elite spy, you were tasked with infiltrating the Fatui as one of their ranks to gather information regarding the locations and purposes of specific forts to prevent potential attacks and keep the organization from acquiring knowledge valuable to their cause.

There was absolutely no room for error, lest you get caught and pay for that mistake with your life.

Fortunately enough, the mask everyone was required to wear (with the exception of the Harbingers) concealed your identity, allowing you to execute your orders with relative ease. Of course, it wasn't completely simple. You had to fight your way up the ranks in order to even get a hint of the plan from your superiors, which took years to even get recognized for your efforts.

Several times have you had to go against your moral compass. Several times, you doubted your abilities and questioned if you were even making a dent in the Fatui's plans. Although, when you heard a faint argument due to a lack of resources, you knew you were on the right track.

But one day, you noticed that an agent's office door was left unlocked. There was no one in the hallways, and not a soul knew that you had stolen an important document that recorded data for some valuable supply that you didn't care enough to read about.

Making sure you tucked the paper deep inside your coat pocket, you strained your ears to ensure you were alone before taking the risk and entering the isolated office. It looked like your standard room. Boring, silent, and strangely barren of many decorations. You took a moment to inspect the area before deciding to take a step forward when your blood suddenly ran cold.

"I don't use this office very often," a voice said from behind you. You just about jumped out of your skin, swiveling your head to the person behind you. It took you a moment to put a face to the name you'd heard so many times before, but when you did, you quickly regretted your decision to search for any additional information. "But even so, don't you think it's rude to invade someone's personal space?"

You froze, unable to find the right words. Nothing could explain why you were currently snooping around in an office that wasn't yours—much, much less when it belonged to the Second of the Eleven Harbingers.

You inwardly cursed your naive eagerness to do more than you were asked. Your years of experience as a spy should've kept you from making such a rookie mistake, and now all your work was going down the drain.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, fighting the urge to fidget at the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you, analyzing your appearance. He broke the silence with a hum, neither intrigued nor entirely disappointed.

"I have heard others spread rumors of a mole within our ranks but thought nothing more of their words as an excuse for their inability to secure our resources," Dottore mused, raising a hand to his chin. "I assume that the mole is you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to reply. Your throat was dry, and your stomach twisted into knots. Not that he cared.

"I must applaud your efforts," he said, a slight smirk decorating his pale face. "Not many people evade our eyes so easily, and for as long as you have."

"But, a word of advice—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar device. He presented it to you, watching in amusement when you suddenly patted yourself down before looking back up towards him. It was the device you used to contact your organization. "—Make sure you clean up after yourself. It's impolite to leave your items lying around."

You don't remember dropping it or forgetting it somewhere. But that didn't matter anymore. You were stuck in the present with no way of getting out of this situation.

He flipped the device over, dully inspecting it as he continued talking. "After going through your data log, it wasn't hard figuring out what you were going for next. While this normally wouldn't spark any interest in me, this resource just so happens to be vital in my current experiment, and I can't have you tampering with my results."

He walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He was close enough for you to inhale his scent of sterile rubbing alcohol and metal. It made your nose burn as you watched him intently, tensing and fighting the urge to back away out of fear of angering him somehow. The document in your pocket felt unusually heavy.

"Although, I didn't expect such a seasoned spy like yourself to make such an amateur move," he hummed, ignoring your need for personal space to pull your mask off. And you were helpless against it all. "[Name] [L.Name], is it? Why don't you read the paper you have right now?"

That's when you knew you fucked up big time.

With a shaky hand, you reached into your coat pocket to pull out the report, unfolding it only to realize that it wasn't a report at all. It was a blank piece of paper. But you could've sworn there was writing on it when you grabbed it earlier!

He could see the confusion on your face clear as day as a laugh left his lips, tapping a rolled-up piece of parchment on the tip of your nose to regain your attention. "I believe this is what you're after." With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the paper that contained everything you needed.

"What—" you gasped, briefly staring at your paper before looking back up.

"It's a shame you didn't think to check the ink before you took it," he said, faux disappointment laced in his voice before it reverted back to its normal tone just as fast. "The ink 'disappears' when subjected to anything higher than room temperature. When you put it in your pocket, your body heat, coupled with the insulation from your coat, affected the writing and turned it invisible."

Fuck.

He planned this out.

You swallowed nervously, taking a deep inhale to steel your nerves, even when it didn't do much to help you. "How... how long have you known?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Not long, really," Dottore casually replied, as if he didn't hold your entire life in the palm of his hand. "I caught you just in time."

"Now," he said with a voice that demanded your attention. Not that he needed to try, anyway. His very presence was almost impossible to ignore. "I'm willing to offer you two options. One, I hand this device over to one of my lovely agents and have them torture you for answers then promptly dispose of you. Or, two—" He waved the communicator in the air, taunting you. "—I have you make it up to me."

It was obvious which one you'd be more tempted to accept, but you knew that accepting an offer such as this from Dottore, of all people, was not a good idea. He knows he has you right where he wants you.

"The second one. I... I'll make it up to you." The words tasted like acid as you forced them out, watching a pleased smirk rise on his face.

"Good," he muttered mostly to himself. Leisurely, he turned around and walked towards the door, shutting it before refocusing back on you.

"Get on your knees," he ordered, placing his hands behind his back as he waited for you to move. He observed silently as you obeyed, staring at the floor in shame. "Crawl to me."

He sighed impatiently upon seeing the conflicted and perplexed expression on your face. "You want to be a rat so badly, don't you? So get down and crawl to me like one."

You were given no choice but to comply despite the absurdity of his request. Hanging your head, you inched forward as the cold, wooden floors painfully dug into your knees, stopping once the sight of his boots came into view. You held back a flinch when you heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he leaned down to lift your head up by your hair, forcing you to your knees.

Instantly, your eyes zeroed in on the prominent bulge in Dottore's pants, making you painfully aware of what he wanted you to do next. With a suspiciously gentle tug, he brought you slightly closer to him. You could tell he was getting impatient.

"Well?" He questioned, a frown gracing his features. "You don't need instructions. Go on."

You glanced up at him with blatant disgust in your eyes before raising your hands to undo his pants and reveal his semi-hard cock. You suppressed a grimace as you held it in your hand, steeling your nerves just enough to be able to lick a stripe down the side. Flattening your tongue, you moved back up to take the tip in your mouth, letting your saliva slip past the corners of your lips to lubricate the rest of his dick.

You half-assed it all, not bothering to take it all the way down or, at the very least, use your tongue. However, Dottore caught on quick enough with an annoyed sigh. You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he tangled his fingers into your hair and shoved you down, but you were caught off guard either way.

You were embarrassed to hear a loud gag sound from you, choking and sputtering on his cock whenever the tip of it slid down your throat. You dug your nails into his thighs when he suddenly shifted and pressed the sole of his boot onto your dick, letting out a muffled cry that only served to please him. He made no move to rub it against you, simply keeping it firmly on your crotch—to keep you in line, you assumed.

You squirmed, internally cringing at the feeling of your drool seeping out the corners of your lips. Fluttering your eyes shut, you tried to focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out, in and—

"Don't look away," he said, refusing to give you a moment of respite, shoving his cock all the way inside your mouth, harshly tugging on your hair at the same time. He fucked your face, ignoring your sounds of protest as he battered your throat. He laughed at your struggle, entertained with the way your tears gathered at your lash line.

"Awh, is this too much for you?" He taunted, shifting his hand to the back of your head to push you down to the base. He sighed contentedly at the feeling of your throat tightening and spasming around him, gently rocking his hips. "You should've thought that through before you accepted the job."

With a painful tug, he pulled you off of his cock. A trail of saliva connected you to him, which you quickly broke when you turned your head to cough into your elbow. He ordered you to get up, unwilling to wait a second before he hauled you up by your arm impatiently. He effortlessly moved your body, pressing your cheek against the wooden door as he pushed on your back, forcing it to arch.

Deeming your position acceptable, he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants to yank them down to your knees. Your breath hitched at the sudden change in temperature, refusing to lean back and seek any warmth from Dottore.

With one hand on your hip, the other strayed toward your ass, spreading it to inspect your hole. It took effort to keep yourself from fidgeting under his gaze, and you opened your mouth in a daring attempt to get him to hurry up when he suddenly spat on your hole, shoving two fingers inside soon after.

You let out a grunt, clawing at the door he had you lean against. It was an uncomfortably foreign sensation but you were in no position to struggle. A burning sensation emanated from your hole as his fingers forced their way inside, wasting no time to move in a scissoring motion. They brushed against a spot that sent sparks up your spine every so often, taunting you wordlessly.

"You're enjoying this," Dottore said, not as a question or comment, but as a statement. And the worst thing was, he was right. No matter how much your mind made you hate it, your body told a different tale.

You let out a displeased sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door, not daring to make your words known. Not that he minded. He enjoyed forcing your reactions out of you just as much as having them given to him without a fight.

He made it known with a jab to your prostate, sending a shock up and down your spine so suddenly it nearly made your knees buckle. That was all he gave you before abruptly pulling away, leaving you uncomfortably empty until the quiet ptuh! sound of him spitting on his cock filled your ears.

Fuck. This was actually happening. And you had no way out.

In a last ditch effort to maintain your dignity, you tried to push yourself off of the door but was quickly pressed—borderline slammed—back down with a hand to the back of your neck.

"I don't think you'll enjoy the alternative," he said, the undertones of irritation and impatience evident in his voice. He squeezed the sides of your neck hard enough to ensure your compliance, nearly scowling when you shifted in place. "So be still and behave like a good little thing."

Without missing a beat, he lined the tip of his cock up against your slick asshole and pushed his way inside, forcing a strained cry from your throat. He made sure it hurt, purposefully moving slowly to make you feel every inch and vein.

You whimpered, trying to breathe and calm yourself down. The stretch fucking hurt and you instinctively shifted your hips forward in a futile attempt to ease the pain when Dottore held your hips to yank you back, shoving the last few inches inside you.

You let out a strangled groan, biting your lower lip to stifle your noises as searing pain tore through you. You breathed heavily through your nose, feeling the weight of disgust settle in your chest when you heard him sigh in satisfaction at how tight you were. You winced when he pulled out slowly, only for him to slam back inside with a loud slap.

You jolted, just about ramming your head against the door in surprise. You grit your teeth and pressed a hand against it as the wood audibly creaked and groaned under your weight when he began to move. You tensed upon hearing faint voices beyond the door, peering back over your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to get him to stop.

"W—Wait," you muttered, breath hitching. "There's someone outside...!"

"Then I suppose you're just going to have to be quiet," he replied with an upward quirk to his lips before angling himself in a way that made his cock press up against you just right. You were disgusted to feel heat beginning to pool in your gut, forcing moans past your lips no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You covered your mouth with a hand as you listened to the noises approach. Dottore was (somewhat) merciful enough to press his pelvis against your ass, though that didn't stop him from rocking his hips to cruelly grind his cock into your prostate.

"Dottore?" It took you a moment to process the voice as electricity shot up and down your spine, trying your damn best to stifle your whimpers. "Are you in there?"

It's Pantalone, you recognize.

"Yes. Is there something you need from me?" Dottore replied, shifting his hold on you to start shallowly thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening to the painfully loud squelching.

"Not at the moment. I thought I heard something... else," Pantalone hummed with a knowing tone, sending a wave of mortification through your body.

"Then if that is all, I'd prefer it if you left," Dottore said, his amusement clear as day in his voice. He didn't even try to hide it as he gave you a punishing thrust, the resounding slap mixing in with your moan as it echoed off the walls. "I'm busy."

A laugh came from behind the door. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."

Dottore refused to wait for him to leave when he started again, this time fucking you so hard you were convinced there'd be a bruise. His fingers dug into your skin, yanking you back in time with his thrusts.

Your legs shook and you bit your lip until you bled, but it hardly did a thing to silence you.

"Look at you," Dottore mused, reaching around to hold your aching cock in his hand. He gave it a squeeze before jerking off the top half, focusing on the tip. "You were never meant to be a spy. You'd be so much better off as my little pet, wouldn't you agree?"

You let out a loud moan, instinctively looking down. You didn't even realize you were so hard, but as you watched the head of your cock drool precum onto the ground, everything felt twice as intense.

"N—No!" You choked out, clawing desperately at the creaking door. "I'll never—I'll never be your pet!"

"No?" Dottore laughed, sounding so unbothered it sent a spike of fear through you, reminding you of just how fucked you were. Swiftly, he swiped his fingers over the tip of your cock before bringing his hand up to push them into your mouth, making you taste your precum. With the palm of his hand, he pressed it against your chin to force your head back.

You let out a groan, feeling the strain on your upper back and neck as you stared at him with fear and disgust.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he reminded, pulling out the communicator with his other hand. He slightly shook it, taunting you. "Don't you remember that actions have consequences?"

He pocketed the device as he slid his hand away from your mouth to bring it to the back of your neck, holding it tightly as he harshly pressed you against the cold wood. The side of your face ached, but, much to your horror, the pain only went straight to your cock.

"So just stand there and enjoy it," he said with a groan, his dick pulsing rhythmically as he savored the sensation of your walls clamping tightly around him. "Don't fight how much you like this."

"I don-" Just then, he rammed his cock into your prostate over and over, reducing you into a babbling mess that only proved his point.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, ashamed that you loved the feeling of him so deep inside you, but you hated that it was him fucking you. You could feel the heat in your stomach intensify with each harsh thrust, feel the way your balls tightened in a way you knew you couldn't stop.

"Please..." you whimpered, weak against the wet slapping sounds that filled the office. "I don't want to...!"

You came with a whorish moan, arching your back as your cock spilled cum onto the floor. You could hear the sound of Dottore's laugh through the haze of your orgasm as sparks coursed through your veins, knees nearly buckling.

"Yes you do," he groaned, voice slightly strained. You could faintly hear his labored breathing the closer he got to his own orgasm, noticing the way his movements grew sloppier and weaker. He reached around again, jerking you off despite the lurking overstimulation.

You tightened, sending him right over the edge as he slammed his cock inside you a final time, pressing himself flush against your ass as he came. It was uncomfortably warm as he throbbed in time with each spurt, savoring the way you practically tried to milk him dry.

But he didn't let it last long as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sight of you, shaky and vulnerable, before him. He graciously gave you a moment before commanding you to fix yourself, stepping back to adjust his own appearance.

"Now," he said, sternly, like he didn't just fuck you within a damn inch of your life. "Why don't you send a message to your organization stating that you're not going back."

He handed you the communicator with a smug smirk, relishing in your distress. Taking in a deep breath to steel your nerves, you accepted the device, reluctantly typing in a message before returning it back to him with regret written on your face.

"Oh, don't look so upset," he pouted, pocketing the device. You weren't sure when you'd see it again. "It'll be easier for you if you cooperate."

He made his way past you, opening the door, sending shivers down your spine at the sudden chill. "But right now, you have a lot of work to do."

cross-posted on ao3

[xioterep-art]

New POV! I got the idea all thanks to this playlist!

POV: you shock Scaramouche with your sudden dominance.. || 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡

Bossy Scaramouche x obedient Subordinate Reader (what he thought)

Trigger warning: suggestive themes, violence, curses, slight nsfw (suggestive), bullying, dom reader.

Disclaimer: the art is not mine, it belongs to たなみ on pixiv!

You were the most obedient subordinate he could ever have, which was annoying him for some unknown reason. He finally got a brainless idiot human at his disposition, yet why was he so unsatisfied? Scaramouche couldn't understand the reason behind this. All he had to do was look at your dumb facial expression, and he would sigh deeply with his usual gloomy frown.

As usual, Scaramouche was sitting in his assigned office, working on some paperwork when you entered with some rapport in your hands, that dumb smile as always was on your face. Avoiding to look at your face, Scaramouche didn't want to get irritated more as he was already, all because of that arrogant bastard, Dottore.

"My lord, here's the rapport you asked for," you said quietly as you walked to his side. Humphing in response, he does not raise his head to look at you, and as his loyal subject, you understand very well what he wants. All he needed was to think, and you would already take action. From an outsider's perspective, it would look as if you two were communicating using telepathy.

Putting the rapport at his side, you stood silently next to him as you waited for an order, which was weird knowing that you were that talkative and annoying type of person who even in front of Lord Scaramouche would not shut up.

Scaramouche kept working without giving the order to leave. As he ignored your presence, you kept your mouth shut as you were strangely in a bad mood. Usually, when you are in his presence you seem to forget all your problems, yet, today, you feel annoyed, and it even surprised you.

Frowning slightly, you kept your posture straight, neither moving at all nor looking at what the sixth was doing. Just when you were minding your own business for the first time, you suddenly heard a sneer escaping his beautiful mouth that made you finally glance his way.

"This bastard! I am going to fucking kill him someday!" The Balladeer roared angrily. He is most likely talking about the second again, you assumed unfazed as you calmly stared at the scene of Scaramouche throwing things to the other side of the room.

You sigh softly with a smile that wasn't a smile, "quell down your anger, my lord..." You said as you walked up to the mess created by the almighty Balladeer and reached to clean it.

As you finished the cleaning, you stood up with the pile of papers in your hands when you suddenly felt a sharp pain in your forehead and soon enough you felt the hot red liquid sliding down your cheek. You froze while looking straight into Scaramouche's eyes. The pain became slightly unbearable as you squinted your eyes when the sixth lord stood up and walked up to you angrily.

"Put that shit away and fucking scram, stupid monkey!" He said as he kicked your side, venting his anger on you.

Now, you must admit that this got on your damn nerves. To be his stepstone every time someone messes with him is fucking annoying. Usually, you would take on his wrath gladly, yet this time you didn't feel like it.

What about you? Can't you feel anger or vent it? You don't even know what was wrong with you.

Snapping back to reality, you saw his hand flying towards you. He was about to push you but you grabbed it firmly, unfazed when your eyes met his deadliest glare.

"Fucking let go, now!" He articulates slowly, clearly pissed off. "No," You simply answered, which left him stunned for a moment.

Feeling the air becoming static, you sneered as you pushed him violently onto the desk. A loud noise was heard when he came in contact with the hard material, earning him a loud groan.

This completely took him off guard. His obedient dog was biting back! He couldn't believe that. Gasping slightly, he felt pain in his right side as it dumped into the edge of his desk.

That sure was painful.

Wanting to face you again, he put a hand on the desk for support, and as he was about to turn towards you, he was again being pushed against the flat surface.

Not understanding what was happening to him, he suddenly had to face you as you were looking down at him, sending shivers down his spine.

The way you looked at him left him breathless. This mean version of you was new to him. he had never seen this side of you, nor did he even give it a chance in his imagination.

The sixth Harbinger's stunned expression soon turned into anger, "what the hell you are doing?" he yelled, trying to push you aside, and of course, you were not budging at all.

You were a strong and talented Dendro swordsman recruited by the Fatui a long time ago, and you were assigned to Scaramouche on the first day since then you have taken all his anger and snarky attitude. Sometimes, he would treat you even worse than shit if you commit the slightest mistake, while some other times, he would act as if you did not exist.

If it wasn't for the admiration you held for him, you would have long ago snapped. Just like now.

You were between his legs with him pinned by you on the desk, one of your hands next to his head with your eyes squinted and a frown on your face as you kept looking at him intensely, stealing away his words.

Feeling the energy shift in the air, Scaramouche gasped as he felt something rolling around his wrists. It was your Dendro ability. Trying to fight back, Scaramouche squirmed under you yet the roots violently pinned both his wrists above his head in response.

"You are annoying, my lord," You said softly as you kept looking at him, "let go of me! you fucking dog!" He snaps back.

You chuckle as that free hand of yours caresses his white soft-looking cheek, "My lord is the prettiest, " you compliment him, "what a shame that such a beauty has a sharp and nasty temper..." You ease up the frown on your face as you lean more toward him, a dangerous glint in your eyes.

"W- What is wrong with you? back off!" He yells again, squirming around, his face flustered while looking away.

"You could've used your Electro power to stop me, Lord," you chuckled sarcastically, your breath now mixed with his, "I had enough of this, you see..." You vented as you bit his lower lip.

The frozen Scaramouche widened his eyes. The Balladeer seemed to forget how powerful he was and only used his legs to kick you off of him, his face blushing wildly.

Not letting go of his lower lip, you grabbed one of his flying legs and secured it by putting it over your shoulder.

"I think that lord Scaramouche needs some punishment, right?" You whisper in his ear in a dangerous tone, not caring anymore about the consequences to come.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Fluff with jiyan? The rest is up for you :3

Idk where this went as this feels more crack than fluff.

Long before he was a general he was a medic, and with that came a need to treat each and every one of your injuries, whether it be a paper cut or a burn jiyan felt the need and the duty to care for it and see it heal properly.

So that’s exactly what he did and it never failed to amuse you.

‘Must you always be reckless with yourself?’ Jiyan would find himself asking as he finishes up covering the cut on your upper forearm.

‘Must you always resort back to your medic days whenever I get hurt?’ You retorted, looking at his work and taking note of how the bandage didn’t feel neither loose nor too tight, it felt just as it should if it were done by the hands of a professional. It amazes you that the same calloused hands that meticulously covered your wound were the very same calloused hands that now leads an army into battle, it wasn’t something your mind couldn’t quite grasp yet despite how long you’ve been with him.

‘I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t go out and get hurt by a rouge Gulpuff.’ Jiyan replied as he crossed his arms over his chest while you smiled sheepishly at the mention of how you got where you were in the first place. You didn’t see that Gulpuff coming and that was your biggest mistake.

‘It came out of nowhere!’ You cried, waving your arms and immeditly regretting it when pain flared within your injured arm.

‘Even if you didn’t see it coming, you would’ve still been able to hear it coming.’ Jiyan explained but the moon upon your face told him all he needed to know as he added. ‘Unless you were listening to music unnecessarily loud, again. I’ve told you the danger that poses to your hearing.’

You pouted, not one for liking when Jiyan was disappointed in you. ‘Then they shouldn’t make music that makes me wanna rail loosing my hearing for.’ You muttered under your breath as Jiyan could only run a hand down his face. You were certainly something so he wasn’t quite certain why he was acting as this was anything new but getting ambushed by some Gulpuffs while listening to loud music was defiantly…something.

‘Then at least promise me that you’ll listen to music at a moderate rate, or at least have one earphone out while you’re out on your explorations, the last thing I want is you getting seriously hurt and I’m unable to help.’ He then asks as he holds your face in his hands, looking at you intently with his golden eyes.

‘I promise,’ you muttered as you melted into his hold, ‘I promise I’ll stop if it gives you peace of mind.’

Jiyan kisses your forehead before pressing his forehead against yours. ‘It very much would my dearest, it very much would.’

*a week later*

‘A Gulpuff attacked me.’ You told jiyan as you pointed to your forehead where your most recent injury was, teary eyed.

Jiyan only sighed as he got the first aid kit from the kitchen but while retrieving it he couldn’t help but smile to himself, you truly knew how to make life entertaining, even if it was your unspoken rivalry either some Gulpuffs.

[genshin-scenarios]

pls pls pls more spiderverse lyney soup pls pls

After the events of Lyney's spiderverse story here...

It's been a week since the fight against the great narwhal, and neither Lyney nor Lynette have been at school.

The bitter part of you wants to be glad about it, but in truth, you were only left perplexed and scattered. How could they be the Phantom Twins? And how could Lyney have known about your true identity this entire time?

How long has he known? How did he find out? Was your entire friendship, and whatever else that was budding in between, all a lie?

"Please don't be mad."

You grit your teeth, slamming your locker door shut. It's Monday again, but this time, you spot a familiar shade of ash-blond dart around the corridor.

The twins are back again, but Lyney is uncharacteristically avoidant - he speaks to everyone normally but even your eyes on him are enough to make his posture shrink. And you don't know what to make of the flip in your stomach whenever he refuses to meet your eye.

Was this an act, too?

You don't know if you'd rather he be genuine or a great deceptor.

-

By the time you've become numb to the fact that Lyney had known your identity and somewhat-betrayed your trust, the boy in question was still tip-toeing around you.

It's almost impressive, considering how it's been a month. You've spent many restless nights coming to terms with the situation. It's time to move on.

...But why did he have to be a Phantom Twin of all things?! And the more annoying one, too!

"You're no longer mad at us." Lynette observes, while you're both working on a paired task. "But there's something on your mind."

You hadn't been as close to Lynette in the past, but since her brother has been avoiding you like the plague, she's taken the initiative to reassure you that both her and the third agent that night (Freminet) do not intend to spill your secret. Even their higher-ups won't know of it.

"I hope you will be able to do the same for us. While I cannot guarantee that we will never face each other again on the field, we are all still teenagers at the end of the day."

Teenagers who swing from rooftops and risk their lives every other weekend - but you understood what she was trying to say.

"How come you've never asked me to talk to Lyney?" You ask.

"Because he'll never forgive me if I pushed you into an artificial conversation." She hums, writing down notes. "Despite how he seems, my brother is quite a romantic and was very stricken with you. I'm afraid if you went up to him only to tell him off, he might never show his face in public ever again."

You tell Lynette she's exaggerating. She shrugs and returns to writing your report.

You decide to put Lyney out of his misery by cornering him after this class. Granted, the method sounded a little aggressive, but it was truly the only way for you to face him for more than ten seconds before he tried to evade you again.

"Ah, are you here to borrow the lab notes? I'm almost done, so I'll get out of the-"

"Lyney." You stamp your hand on the pile of papers, just as he placed his worksheet onto the top. Lyney tries to free it, fails, and hesitates. "I'm not mad anymore."

In the privacy of the empty room, Lyney's gaze drops to his feet. "...Not mad about what?"

Feigning ignorance? Or trying to pretend like nothing happened?

You lick your lips, thinking about what you should say. Subconsciously, you lean against the hand that's still placed atop the papers. It partially cages Lyney against the desk. "Well, I had a dream recently that someone close to me had a big secret, and it really changed the way I saw him."

Lyney desperately wants to say that your words are the only thing he's paying attention to, but when you're this close, his eyes can't help but dart between your arm and your moving lips. He can feel his guilt and feelings for you knot together, choking him. "I see. In what way did your opinion change?"

"I suppose that's up to you." At that, Lyney snaps out of his nerves in newfound surprise. "What were your intentions after you found out who I was? Did you only try to get close to me as part of some scheme?"

A pause. You continue. "Or did you think of it as some sort of game?"

When the show is over, only those behind the stage know what is real after the curtain call.

You think back to his initial animosity against Spiderman, and how it shifted. You think about his initial charms which have softened from rose-colored to fleeting lilac as you started to get to know the 'real' Lyney.

Then, how it all came to a halt as the same purple gaze trembled with strain.

"Playing with my knowledge was never my intention," he says, "to be honest, you stopped being a pursuit to me the moment I started to care about you." Lyney meets your eyes. "Even before finding out, I'd already... and I know you might not believe me, but knowing who you are didn't change my mind one bit. Manipulating you was the last thing on my mind."

"Then what was the first?"

"That the person I'm falling in love with was destined to be my foe." His lips press into a line. "That I didn't know how I'd face you the next day if I caused an injury that couldn't heal. That I didn't know how many sorries would be enough if I did expose you, and changed your life for the worst."

A beat. A reply.

"The first thing I thought of after I left the water, was that I've never seen you so scared." You admit. Your heart is in your throat. "Stupid, isn't it? Instead of worrying about my safety, I was thinking about how worried my enemy looked about my reaction. If you really were just trying to bait me with feelings, I guess that worked-"

Something warm cups your cheeks. Lynette's always said that her brother's blood ran hot.

You didn't realize you'd started crying.

"I don't know what I have to do to convince you of this, but I'd carve out my heart to prove it to you if I could." Lyney leans close like he's uttering a prayer. A fire in his eyes is trying to burn your fears away, but a million regrets are swirling in his gaze, too. "If I'm lying, you should be the last person beating yourself up over it. Just give your anger to me."

You take a deep breath, steadying your voice. Despite yourself, you laugh. "That's not a very healthy solution."

"I deserve it." His hands start to fall away. "I know it's out of our control, but I shouldn't have called out your name and-"

The sound of items crashing to the ground interrupt him. From behind Lyney, a cat has snuck in through the window and pushed all the items from the shelves onto the floor.

"Meow." It greets.

A part of you regrets how fast Lyney's warmth leaves you when you step away, but try to focus on the feline intruder. "Just how did you climb all the way up here?" You ask, about to pick it up to return it outside when the cat leaps from on top of the shelf and over your head.

"Look out!"

In a matter of moments, the world topples over and is blanketed by worksheets fluttering to the floor. You've fallen onto the ground while trying to dodge the cat, who's landed on the desk and sent the papers flying in the air.

And Lyney, who was behind you, had tried to shield you - only to find himself in a precarious position, with his arms propped around your sides and caging you against the ground. He's keeping himself hovering above you, but his ears are turning red. "A-Are you alright?"

"Lynette was right." Your mouth starts moving before you can think. "We should've talked sooner. You've already lost all your silver-tongued charm."

"I don't think all the charm in the world would be able to express what I'd want to you." Lyney seems to have returned to normal, save for his blush. As he sits up, he pulls you with him so that the both of you are still close together. "Was that a bit of your vigilante that I heard?"

"What can I say? I only know how to crack jokes at the worst times." You smile. "I'm surprised you haven't tried taunting me yet. Not as mean as you tried to seem?"

"I'll only be mean if you want me to be."

The thought makes you flush. "What kind of-"

But before you can finish, the door swings open. There stands a calm Lynette and concerned Freminet.

"Oh? I see the two of you have made up. Quite dramatically, in fact. Good work, brother."

"Wait, Lynette-"

"We'll delay the teachers a little longer." The door clicks closed.

You burst out laughing at the way Lyney's holding his face in his hands. "Your sister's great."

"I'm glad at least you're amused." He mutters, peeking over his fingers with a cute furrow in his brow. "I take it that this means we're friends again?"

You hum thoughtfully, taking one of his hands to entwine yours together. "Just friends?"

The way Lyney's pupils dilate might just be worth the trouble you both went through, to get here.

-

Post-resolution headcanons!

The Phantom Twin's missions and yours still clash from time to time, but since you're aware of each other's identities, there's a lot more diplomacy. The twins have told their Father that after the battle with the narwhal, a new truce of sorts has been established. Arlecchino has decided not to pry.

Lyney is still insufferable in his masked form. You're convinced that it's just part of the persona he puts on during his work - and despite knowing it's him, your dynamics don't change too much when interacting as Spiderman and Phantom Twin. There's less anger and aggravation from you, replaced with exasperation and competitiveness. You'd like to think it's a healthy separation of your private and public lives. You're guilty of having your own superhero-personality, too.

Lyney and Spiderman however? It's almost uncanny how his civilian self slips into a sharp, knowing gaze and asks leading questions to you. He's always careful about looking too comfortable with Spiderman, but aids you in figuring out villain schemes in a subtle way. You wonder with a chill if that's what his expressions look like under his mask during his agent work. And what other personas he may have under his belt (surely they also functioned with other disguises, rather than just the Phantom Twins)

Oh, but as just Lyney and the regular you? He's happy to partake in your diagrams and investigation files, so long as it doesn't affect the House of Hearth's business. This is where you get the chance to appreciate and witness Lyney's wit, which he often hides behind his cleverly charming personality. If he catches you staring, he smiles. It's been a while since he'd stopped getting flustered from being admired by you.

And as the regular you and Phantom Twin Lyney... it's a rare occurrence, but Lyney's good at greeting you in passing with a small nod or glance. If you're stuck in between one of his fights, however... you may or may not be prone to joining in with a haphazard weapon (the last one was a metal pipe) to whack the pursuer over the head with. Lyney has to admit it was very hard not to kiss you on the spot.

Your version of the upside-down Spiderman kiss is you hanging from the monkey bars in the gym or other sort of furniture, surprising Lyney with a smile. The two of you are too careful to do such a thing the traditional way, with you in your hero-form and sneaking a kiss in the night. But Lyney won't say he hasn't daydreamed about it. If only both your lives weren't so riskily intertwined!

Regular dates include cute cafe visits, studying in the library, in either of your homes... your favorite memory is when Lyney cooked for you during a sleepover, and you played a range of board and console games with his siblings before turning in for the night.

...You'd woken up with Lyney clinging to you, unsure of how you'd shifted closer in your sleep. A polaroid of that day still sits in your wallet. You suppose if anyone ever tried to find out your or the Snezhevich siblings' identities, you'd just play the fool and proudly label the cute ashen-blond as your boyfriend.

[sirenmoth]

Bookworm

Based of this post i made. GN Reader

If he was sure about one thing, it was your avid love and passion for reading, he could leave you with a book alone while a worked in his office or went to run errands and you wouldn't have moved at all, expect to change the position you were reading in. You were absorbed into your own private worlds, books of different genres layed scattered around the house, stacked up agaisnt each other on any surface you could find to place one, on overcrowed shelves and side tables, even tucked up against the wall on the floor.

It was cute to see you nosedeep in whatever book you were reading but it did concern him to some extent, he managed to sneak up on you a few times, having to physically drag you to eat or to rest your eyes.

Well, by sneaking, more like louding stomping around the house, purposley making as much noise as possible, still you sat and read undisturbed by his actions.

Nothing seemed to work, the amount of books now meant he's accidentally walked into a stack on the floor or nearly had a a few fall off the shelves they cluttered, "Are you planning on moving this anytime soon?" He asked, looking in you direction.

You sat on the sofa, a blanket over your legs and a book you were somehow already nearing half way through even though it was bought a week ago, laid open on your lap, not looking up from the words you were focusing on, you nodded absent mindlessly, eyes never leaving the paper back in front of you, turing the page to start the next chapter and curling up more under the blanket.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn't get an answer from you in a while, he couldn't complain about the placements, the only spare room in the house was turned into his at home office, his own space he can retreat to if needed, so getting mad that you turned the living room into your own space was wrong,

It was only fair you got your own space, an area where you could read and store your books without worry, and so he could easy know where you were.

After reaching the midway point of the novel, bookmarking it with the bookmark he bought you as a gift after you looked at him in disgust when he told you to dog-ear the page like he does, moving the blanket from your legs and stretched. Looking around, the lack of books around caught you off guard, it instantly became clear how clean and decluttered everything looked, like you could finally breathe after drowning for so long.

"Where'd all my books go?" you mutter to yourself, getting up from where you've been sitting for who knows how long, a noise from the sunroom caught your attention, it was at the far back of the house and neither you nor he used it for much other than storage.

Calling out to him, knocking on the door to the room before opening it, he stops you " Darling! Wait there, i wanna show you something." he called from inside, sounding a little out of breath, you sighed hoping it wasn't another one of his retreat rooms, "It's not done yet." a loud noise followed by the sound of him grunting, like he was moving something around.

Puzzled, you waited outisde the room, unsure of what was happening that was so important, "Have you seen my books?" you asked him from the other side of the door, crossing your arms over your chest, "I can't find them anywhere." you add. Finally the door opens just enough for him to squeeze out and to keep whatever was inside hidden, "What was that?" you question him again, even more confused than before.

He smiled at you, taking you hand in his, "I have seen you books, so don't be mad at me." he explained, "I found somewhere for you to put them, i know you have a habit of going into that pretty head of yours when reading." That explanation did nothing to help your curiosity. He motioned to you stand in front of the sunroom door, with him behind you.

"I hope you like it, took me hours." He kissed the back of your head, reaching out from behind you to open the door.

The sight in front of you left you speechless, a whole mini library was there, right in fron of your eyes. Taking a few steps into the now renovated room, taking in the sight, a double loveseat big enough to hold two people, was pushed up agaisnt the far right wall, complete with pillows and a throw blanket over the back of it. A singular arm chair in the left corner sat with its own pillow, propped neatly in the center of the chair. Bookshelevs, both refurbished and handmade lined every available wall, reaching upwards towards the ceiling and skylights, creating a warm and cozy feeling. A ladder, which you noticed was on a whell system, sat attache to the larger bookshelf in the room. A decent sized coffee table was placed in front of the double love set, already with a few book ready to be read.

A fair of arms snake their way around your waist, pulling you out of you dazed stated. "Do you like it? Thought you could have your own space to retreat and relax." he said, watching as your eyes looked from one thing to another, "I tried my best to order them how you like it, hopefully it's ok." sheepishly he smiled, his eyes never leaving your awestruck expression.

Turning to him with the biggest smile on your face he's ever seen, you hug him tightly, squeezing him as you buried you face in the crook of his neck, giving him chase butterfly kisses on his neck and jaw, each a silent thank you for his gift and effort. "I love it, thank you so much." you reply, letting go so you explore your new personal space, running you fingers over the polished sheleves, scaaning the small decor pieces and details he added, little trinkets he brought back for you from his travles.

He sat down on the sofa, watching in adoration as you wondered around your new private world, reading the titles off the spines of the books on the shelves, happy with himself and his work, ignoring the gnawing feeling that he'll have to possibly make a new section soon when you inevitably run out of space. You grabbed a book of one of the shelves and made your way over to him, settling down between his legs, getting comfortable with his back slightly agaisnt the back of the sofa and the armrest, one leg streched out on the loveseat with you perched in betweem his legs.

His arms were back around your waist the second you stopped moving, you grabbed the blanket and threw it over both of your legs, arranging so it covered you both completly, your back against his chest and his arms around your waist, you set the novel you choose down on your lap and opened it.

A sigh can be heard behind you, smiling softly to yourself, he's not moving anytime soon and you know he just figured that out. A few minutes after you opened the book, you feel another set of eyes peering over your shoulder at the pages in front of you, "Are you reading over my shoulder?" you playfully ask, earning a grunt in response. Giggling as you readjust the book, so he could totaly not read over your shoulder.

Whatever he had planned today wasn't going to happen and can wait, this is more important.

-- Simon "Ghost" Riley, Captian John Price, Nikolai, John “Soap” Mactavish, Kyle “Gaz Garrick”, Logan Howlett and any f/o you can think of

[engie-ivy]

(Inspired by @wolfstarmicrofic 's Alternative Universes theme! A sort of combined Performer AU and College AU🙂)

1058 words

Sirius Black's emotional break-up songs are topping the charts all over the world. But hearing those songs everywhere he goes, Remus is about to reach his breaking point.

With His Song

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not the concrete, nor the stone,

Not the room you sit in,

But the smile that lights it up.

Not the bed you sleep in,

But the heartbeat besides your own.

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not necessarily a place,

Sometimes, it's tracing the scars on someone's hand,

Sometimes, it's counting the freckles on someone's face.

It's been so long,

Coming home to you,

And did you know,

I could easily move on?

But the truth is,

I just don't want to.

If home is where the heart is,

Then baby, could it be,

That your home is still with me?

Mary lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of her. “My god, I'm going to listen to that song on repeat for the rest of the week,” and after a moment she adds “potentially the rest of my life.”

“Then you're gonna have to get some headphones,” Remus says. “Because I'm already getting sick of hearing it.”

Mary gasps and clutches her chest. “Blasphemy!”

Remus gives her an unimpressed look. “I don't think you're using that word right.”

“‘Irreverence toward something considered sacred or inviolable’,” Mary states unfazed. “So yes, the perfect description of you insulting Sirius Black's music.”

Emmeline nods emphatically.

Remus sighs. “I'm not saying it's a bad song,” he says. “Just that I'm getting tired of hearing it everywhere, all the time.”

Mary opens her mouth to retort, but Emmeline interjects.

“I do sort of relate. It has gotten a painful tinge to hear the song, now that I know I won't be seeing Sirius Black perform it live…”

“You didn't get tickets for his show?” Marlene asks.

“No,” Emmeline sighs miserably. “I'm on the waiting list. Number 329.”

“Not as bad as Hestia. She's number 1550 or something.”

Emmeline shrugs. “In the end, it makes no difference. 329 or 1550, neither one of us is going to the concert. I mean, 329 people will have to die, and I don't reckon I'd be that lucky…”

“Emmeline!” Lily scolds.

“Well, that's the only excuse for not going to a Sirius Black concert, literally being dead,” Mary says. “I'd actually skip my mum’s funeral if I could see him live.”

“Mary!”

“No, no, Lils,” Emmeline says. “You don't know Mary's mum. If Mary were to miss out on seeing Sirius Black for her funeral, she'd actually come back from the death to haunt her.”

Mary nods. “She's a huge fan. Not going to a Sirius Black concert would be disrespecting her memory.” She glances over at Remus. “She might have some things to say as well if she hears that my actual roommate has openly disrespected Sirius Black’s music.”

Remus sticks out his tongue. “Sue me.”

“As soon as they create a law that makes depreciating Sirius Black illegal, which they should, I will!”

“Anyhow,” Emmeline says. “I haven't heard Sirius Black's voice for almost five minutes and I'm getting withdrawal symptoms,” and she reaches out to put the record back on.

Remus gets up to his feet. “That's my cue to leave.”

“You don't have to, Remus,” Lily says quickly. “If you really don't want us to, we won't put on his music. We value your company more than listening to Sirius Black.”

“Says who? Ow!” Emmeline rubs her shin where Lily kicked her.

Remus smiles at Lily. “Thanks, Lils, but it's okay. I have a paper I need to work on anyway.”

The moment Remus closes the door to his bedroom, he lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of him.

Then, almost without thinking, he takes out his phone and punches in the number by heart.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line sounds surprised and, dare Remus think, hopeful?

“You have to stop doing this,” Remus hears himself say. “No,” he then corrects himself. “You don't have to do anything. I'm asking you. Please stop doing this.”

“Remus, what are you talking about?” He seems to be walking away from something– A promo event? A fancy dinner? An exclusive party?– as Remus can hear the voices in the background grow softer. Remus feels a brief hint of satisfaction; no matter how big the event he's at, how important the people he's with, when Remus calls, he gets up and walks away to talk to him, but Remus quickly corrects himself, because it's not like that anymore.

“It's killing me,” Remus admits, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I understand, but… God, it's killing me.”

“Rem,” Sirius, because of course it's Sirius, says gently. “You're still not making much sense. What are you trying to say? Why are you suddenly calling me? Why… Why now?”

“Your latest releases,” Remus says, as he starts pacing the room, though he can barely take two steps before he reaches the opposite wall. It's rather telling of the difference between them, he can't help but think. Sirius undoubtedly in some grand building surrounded by dozens of people who would fall over themselves to cater to his every whim, and Remus hiding out in his eight square meter bedroom cluttered with textbooks and scribbled notes. “I get why you do it. I'm probably terribly biased,” he lets out a brief laugh. “But I think the songs you wrote when we were together, and even after we just broke up, are your best songs, so I get that you would want to release them, to share them with the world and show everyone once again just how bloody talented you are. And you have every right. They're your works, your creations. But gods, Sirius, I can't pretend anymore.”

“Pretend,” Sirius repeats, his voice almost a whisper, and Remus lets it all out.

“I can't pretend anymore that hearing those songs everywhere I go all the damn time doesn't make me want to die! That it doesn't just break me, to hear your voice sing those words, knowing what they once meant, and knowing that they don't mean that anymore! That you don't mean that anymore.”

“Remus,” Sirius interrupts sharply, and Remus immediately stops talking as Sirius speaks. “Do you really think I could sing those words like that, if I didn't still feel that way?”

And Remus’ breath catches in his throat.

[vividraft]

guard my love ✧˖*°࿐

⇢ ˗ˏˋ fem(i think)!guardian angel!reader x scaramouche

⇢ ˗ˏˋ summary: you were scaramouches guardian angel, and you couldnt stand only eatching him from afar anymore

⇢ ˗ˏˋ important notes: this is a repost from my old account! (@/rainstops)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ a/n another day, another realization that my old fics are bad...

old post masterlist tba !

you were scaramouches guardian angel, impacting his life with events that later on have a bigger impact than anyone might think. you always watched him from afar, helping as much as you could. you always giggled at the snarky and mean remarks when he talked about other people. Sometimes you wish he knew you, but how would he? He can't see you and isn't supposed to see you either.

But what if he did know you? 

Sometimes you can't help but hope you could spend time with him. you wanted to be around him, like he's a magnet and you belong to him. it was an odd feeling you weren't supposed to feel. you can't help but have your heart flutter in your chest and make your wings spread, as you laid your head on both of your hands and watched him live his life. you've always been there, from the time he was created to when his mother abandoned him, to now, when he was sitting in his office working on papers as a part of the fatui.

What was this feeling you experienced nearly everyday?

Maybe your friend cupid could help?

"cupid we have to talk", you walked up to him, at a time humans would call night. 

"Is that so?" what do you have to talk to me about?", he wondered.

"I need your advice on something... whenever I see scaramouche, my heart flutters and my wings feel like flying, and I get really hot. Whenever I look at him I don't want to ever take my eyes off of him ever again. i dont think I'm supposed to be feeling this way, and i don't even know what this is", you rambled on and on about your feelings until cupid stopped you. 

"You like him. more than a guardian angel is supposed to like their assigned being", was cupid's explanation.

"Do you have something to do with this?"

"How could i? i'm not even sure if i can impact a guardian angel's feelings", cupid replied.

and that's how your conversation went with cupid. it helped you figure out something at least, but now you wanted to be close to scaramouche even more. but scaramouche couldn't see you, no matter what you do.

It was a windy day, as Scaramouche was trying to fight a couple enemies. no challenge for him. He was originally looking for a certain treasure. you were sitting close on a rock cheering him on, even if he couldn't hear nor see you. scaramouche could have easily made it, if he would have been caught off guard. 

He climbed this mountain only for the sake of trying to claim a treasure, which was supposed to be here. He never expected to die, when he was pushed off the cliff. 

as he fell, the monsters stopped caring about him, and everything seemed to stop for a minute. his clothes were lashing around his body, and his hair was getting messed up in the wind. Although his mind knew that this was the end, he couldn't accept it, and neither could you. you flew as fast as you could, as close to him as possible. you never expected it to work, but you managed to catch his body, just before he hit the floor. relieve filled your body, as your wings were giving their best to keep you and scramouche up in the air looking for a place to land. your arms were wrapped around scaramouches body, holding onto him like a fragile treasure. you chose a mountain without any enemies, to land, and slowly let yourself and scaramouche down. you laid him down on the grass.

he looked at you once, and immediately backed off. his mind told him that he should, since he didn't know who or what you were, but his heart fluttered once he looked at you, even if he wasn't sure if he even had a heart.

"who... are you?", his brows furrowed, and you smiled softly at him. your hands were lying on your lap, and even if the both of you just flew through the wind, your hair looked as perfect as ever. 

were you allowed to tell him who you were? was he allowed to know?

you didn't know, and you couldn't care to know. you didn't want to go back to how it was, and if you had to, you at least wanted to let him know who you were.

"im [name]. i'm your guardian angel", you explained. 

"my... guardian angel?"

you nodded. 

"i've known you ever since you were created and have watched every single moment of your life"

scaramouche couldn't help, but think how pieceful you looked. your smile looked warm, just like your whole presence. your hands looked soft, softer than any clouds he's ever seen in the sky. your skin looked so perfect to him. his skin in comparison, had scars all over. your wings looked ever so majestic and the feathers on them looked so soft. you looked like the embodiment of piece, love and tenderness.

he has never seen anyone like you, but could he trust you? were you even real? what if this was only his imagination, and he was already dead.

but if this was the way it felt being dead, then he didn't mind.

not at all.

"am i dead?", he questioned his situation.

"no luckily you're not. i caught you, although i didn't know it was possible", you tried your best to explain what you knew.

you were glad you were finally able to talk to him once, but there was this dragging feeling in your chest that this was not what you were supposed to be doing. you after all, still were not sure if you were allowed to talk to scaramouche. the feeling was bothering you. your mind was telling you that you should leave. you should leave and let everything go back to the way it used to be. but your heart was telling you that that is not what you want. you want to stay. you can just as well protect him while you're with him, if not better. and who knew if returning to the way it used to be was possible. who knew if scaramouche would forget this.

but scaramouche knew. scaramouche knew he could never forget you. of course you could just be anyone telling him you're his guardian angel, but there was something about you. something so peaceful and promising. like when he was looking at you, his whole body filled with warmth and hope. hope was something he hasn't felt in such a long time.

the peaceful silence between the two of did not last any longer, when a few treasure hunters interrupted who were seemingly looking for the same treasure as scaramouche was.

"hey who are they?", one of the treasure hunters pointed towards where the both of you were sitting with his shovel. 

"I don't know who cares?", another one replied. 

"what if they have the item we're looking for?", another one butted in. 

"you're right. let's just give them a quick search"

both you and scaramouche knew exactly what they meant when they wanted to give the both of you 'a quick search'.

they weren't very far but you remained calm and almost unbothered. 

"Do you have what they're looking for?", you asked the purple haired boy. 

"probably", he nodded. the both of you got up from your sitting position, preparing for the worst case scenario.

"hey purple head! you have what we want. hand it over or this will be rough", the treasure hoarder with the shovel immediately threatened him. that's when you first noticed the antique relict he was holding in his hand. it belonged to a long forgotten god.

"Finders keepers no?", scaramouche replied. 

"this is your last warning buddy. hand over the relict and we will leave you and... what or whoever that is alone", another treasure hoarder looked you up and down like he was mocking you. 

you stepped closer to scaramouche since it was your duty to guard and protect him. 

"you stay back. we won't hesitate to kill you as well", the man threatened again. 

"I'm not handing over this relic. do what you will but you wont get it", scaramouche stated. 

"Okay you heard him guys! guess this is going the hard way!", the treasure hoarder exclaimed, as they started sprinting towards scaramouche with challenging smiles on their faces. scaramouche was about to attack with a facial expression, compared to that of a person who has never lost a fight once before. 

but you were closer to scaramouche than the treasure hunters were, so you decided to step in. 

you simply stepped in front of scaramouche, with a blank expression. the treasure hunters' way was blocked by you, but they didn't hesitate. just like they had mentioned, they were ready to kill you as well. oh, but was killing you even possible? The treasure hoarders were so very close to you, almost hitting you with their weapons. 

Scaramouche panicked. you had such a calm expression on your face, like there was no one in front of you. He didn't want you to get hurt, but there was no longer anything he could do. 

Suddenly, a big wave, which felt like air, threw every single one of them a few steps back. if this would have been normal air, they would not have died from it, but there they were, lying motionless on the floor as if they have been sleeping for the past 100 years.

"what...", scaramouche whispered, without intention that you would hear it. you turned around to him.

"I'm your guardian angel, remember?", you smiled at him. 

"like i'd forget so fast...", he mumbled, "well it's not like i couldn't have handled these treasure hoarders on my own. 

"i never doubted you scaramouche, but i wasn't sure if you trusted me if i just told you that i was your guardian angel"

you held out your left hand

"I'm [name]!", you introduced yourself. a soft smile remained on your smile, the corners of your mouth lifted, while scaramouche on the other hand remained silent and a little... confused?

"you know... usually people greet each other by shaking their right hands, not their left", he corrected you.

"oh!", you changed the hand you were holding towards him. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know much about the things that humans do. well i'm aware that you're... a puppet and not a human, but you grew up among them, right?", you corrected yourself.

"Well, yeah, I guess", scaramouche hesitated to take your hand. 

you internally cursed yourself, since you were obviously very aware how much he hated getting compared to humans, as he calls them weak. 

"sorry, i didn't mean to compare you to a human, i know you don't like them very much"

he sighed.

"It's... fine", he replied, like he struggled with the words that came out of his mouth.

never did you expect for it to come this far. 

"...and you should really try this dish, it's really well known", you and scaramouche were sitting at a restaurant, while he was talking to you about the food. you didn't know much about humans, and you never tried their food. people were giving you weird stares because of your huge wings, but scaramouche glared at them, until they looked away.

and you were finally able to know that you wanted life to be this exact way, and not any other.

a/n: is this borderlining on yandere reader??? idk how to write yandere