#i took too long trying to figure out how to shade this even though it was completely uneccessary

[ask-the-scout-siblings]

-How tf do you..

Oh, theres the button-

*Click*

Anyways, sorry for the wait! The battery died and we ended up going on a wild and LONG goose chase for a phone charger(almost got caught too). Turns out, ol' scraps had one from a host body he pickpocketed.

Violet punched the poor guy when she found out-

That asshole made us waste a whole-ass month of our time and dared to charge 10 FUCKING BATTERIES for it, I'd say he deserved it.

Another reason for the wait was because Scout, for some reason, took another week or 2 trying to find the camera.

I was tired of typing ok! Besides, I could capture live reactions with this-

Did it really have to take that long tho?

This thing has too many app thingies, no wonder it takes so fucking long to load-

Back to the topic, feel free to ask us stuff again!

[sunni-stuff]

Adira and Mama have always celebrated valentines together. And now we have Simon, who in addition to wanting to create a connection with Adira, he also wants to recreate that "love" with Mom. So, this Valentine's Day, Simon and Adira team up to give Mom a wonderful gift!

Valentine’s Day.  

The holiday where people got all sappy, handed out cards, and smothered their significant others with roses and kisses. The streets would be painted in shades of red and pink, filled with the bustling energy of couples trying to outdo each other with grand romantic gestures. 

But for you, Valentine’s Day had always been about something else. Since Adira was born, it became a tradition to celebrate the love of your life in your own way. You didn’t need a partner to make the day meaningful; you had her. Every year, you’d gift her a small box of her favorite chocolates—indulgent, sweet pieces she’d greedily munch on, leaving her cheeks smeared with chocolate and her gummy grin brighter than the sun.  

You couldn’t help but remember the memory of how Adira’s love affair with that brand of chocolate started. Godiva Gold Collection—an unnecessarily expensive, fancy brand that had somehow become her favorite. You still had the box that started it all, tucked away in the closet of keepsakes, its shiny gold lid a time capsule of an unexpected moment from your early days at the daycare.

It was your first Valentine’s Day as an assistant, back before you had your own class. You’d been trying to keep a low profile, just another cog in the machine, but one of the dads had made that impossible. For weeks, he’d been flirting with you, persistent in a way that made you roll your eyes more than blush. Day in and day out, he’d linger a little too long during drop-offs or pick-ups, throwing out compliments like confetti. It was harmless enough, but you never entertained it beyond polite smiles.  

That Valentine’s Day, though, he decided to up the ante. Strolling in with his daughter on one arm and an elaborate, glittering box of chocolates in the other, he sauntered over to you with the confidence of a man who thought he’d already won.  

“I thought you might like these,” he said, handing you the Godiva box with a grin that was probably meant to be charming but mostly came off smug. “Figured you deserved a little something for always being so amazing.”  

You took the box graciously, murmuring a polite thank-you. And that’s when the moment turned unexpectedly sweet.  

Before you could even process the interaction, a tiny figure toddled into the room—Adira, barely one year old, her chubby legs carrying her as fast as they could toward you. Her little hand stretched up, fingers opening and closing in that unmistakable signal: I want.  

You smiled at her, heart melting as it always did. “Of course, little fox,” you murmured, placing the box carefully in her hands. She hugged it to her chest with the kind of pure joy that only a child could muster, her little fingers already fumbling with the lid.

The dad’s confident grin faltered as he watched the scene unfold. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait… You give chocolate to all the kids here? Isn’t that, uh, bad for them?” He gestured awkwardly toward Adira, who had now plopped herself onto the floor, fully engrossed in her mission to open the box.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood back up. “No, I don’t give chocolate to all the kids,” you said, your tone gentle but firm. “Adira’s mine.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you watched as the realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, darting between you and Adira as if trying to piece together a puzzle he hadn’t even realized was in front of him.

“She’s… yours?” he asked, incredulous.

You nodded, glancing down at Adira, who had successfully pried the box open and was now holding a truffle in her tiny hands like it was a treasure. “Yep. My daughter,” you said, pride evident in your voice. “She’s the reason I started working here, actually. Thought it’d be a good way to balance work and being there for her.”

The man’s face turned an odd shade of red, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. He had assumed, just like so many others, that you were childless and ready to play along with his flirtations. But you weren’t. And that, in some small way, felt like a victory.

“Oh. Wow. I didn’t realize,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I, uh, thought you were single. And… you know, childless.”

“Nope,” you said with a small laugh. “Very much a mom.”

He began backing toward the door with an apologetic smile. “Right, well… I should get going. My daughter’s probably waiting for me. Happy Valentine’s Day!” And just like that, he was gone.

Wasn't he holding his daughter?

His swift retreat had you chuckling even as you turned your attention back to Adira, who was now blissfully munching on her stolen treasure. She looked up at you, her grin wide and sticky, chocolate clinging to her growing pearly whites.

“Yum!” she declared, holding up another piece as if offering it to you.

Now, every Valentine’s Day, when you handed her a new box, she’d squeal with glee, just like she did when she was a baby. And every time, it reminded you why you didn’t need flowers, cards, or romantic gestures to make the day special.

Adira was your Valentine. She always had been, and she always would be.

Valentine’s Day had arrived once again, painting the streets with an abundance of roses, teddy bears, and couples hand in hand. The air was charged with the energy of love—or at least, that’s how the advertisements made it seem.

For you, it was a different story. As a single parent, Valentine's Day didn’t come with the same excitement. Instead, it was a quiet reminder of the love you shared with Adira—the kind of love that didn't need gifts or fancy dinners. You had your own little celebration planned with her at home, but first, there was work.

The daycare was closing early that day, giving most of the staff the chance to spend time with their partners. But for the rest of you—those without a special someone—it was business as usual. The meeting, something about the upcoming budgets for the year, was mandatory.

As you wrapped up your workday, you felt a twinge of guilt. Adira wouldn’t have the patience to wait while you sat through the meeting. She never did, and today wasn’t going to be any different. So, in a bit of a spur-of-the-moment decision, you called Simon. He was more than happy to help, even though the idea of being with Adira all afternoon seemed like a challenge. Still, he was eager to do what he could, giving you time to get through the meeting without worrying.

Unbeknownst to you, your apartment was currently in a state of complete disarray.

It all started when Simon, while rummaging through the pantry for snacks, stumbled upon a familiar gold box tucked in the corner. He didn’t know why the sight of the Godiva box stirred something in him, but it did. For a split second, his mind conjured up the idea that you had someone special—someone who’d given you the overpriced chocolate. His stomach twisted at the thought.

Why did that bother him? It wasn’t like he had any claim over you. You were just co-parenting. But still, the idea of some other guy swooping in and winning you over with fancy chocolates rubbed him the wrong way.

The thought simmered in the back of his mind until he turned to Adira, who was running around, triumphantly waving around her Barbie head like a trophy . An idea formed, one that made the edges of his frown soften into something more determined.

“How about we make your mom something special?” he proposed, crouching down to her level.

Adira’s eyes lit up, her face brightening with an enthusiastic grin. “Yeah! Special for Mommy!” She bounced to her feet, already brimming with elation.

“Alright, lass,” he said, ruffling her hair. “We’ll need a plan. Let’s get to work.”

By the time thirty minutes had passed, your apartment was barely recognizable. Flour dusted nearly every surface, glitter and scraps of colorful paper were strewn across the living room, and the faint smell of something slightly burnt wafted from the kitchen. Simon was in over his head.

He had underestimated two things: the sheer mess a three-year-old could create when left unchecked and the complexity of trying to bake cookies with said three-year-old as his assistant.

His phone laid on the counter, a lifeline to Gaz, who had graciously agreed to walk him through baking cookies. "Alright, I’ve got the dough… I think. What’s next?” he asked, glancing at the slightly lumpy mixture in the bowl.

On the other end of the line, Gaz chuckled. “Mate, it shouldn’t look like that. Did you actually measure the ingredients, or did you just eyeball it?”

Simon huffed, frustration bubbling as he wiped a streak of flour off his cheek. “I followed the recipe! Mostly. Adira added her own… interpretations.”

As if on cue, Adira, perched on a stool beside him, giggled mischievously, her tiny hands gripping the now-empty container of sprinkles. She enthusiastically dumped half of it into the bowl, sending a white puff into the air. She giggled uncontrollably as flour settled into her hair, making her look like a tiny ghost.

“Looks funny!” she declared, wiping her flour-dusted hands on his sleeve.

Simon groaned, but he couldn’t suppress the chuckle that followed. “Yeah, you look like you’ve been rolling around in snow.” Glancing at the concoction they were making, pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself, “This is a disaster.”

“Oi, it’s not a disaster,” Gaz chimed in, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “You’ve just got… a creative helper. Roll with it. Kids love messy projects.”

As they moved on to rolling out the dough, Adira decided to take charge of the cookie cutters. She pressed them into the dough with all the strength her tiny hands could muster, creating wobbly fox shapes that were more abstract than symmetrical. “For Mommy!” she declared with each press, her little voice full of pride.

Simon’s heart softened at her excitement. Despite the chaos, she was having the time of her life, and he couldn’t deny that it was… fun, in a strange, messy sort of way.

“Alright, Gaz,” Simon said, propping the phone closer to his ear as he picked up a cookie sheet. “What temperature do I need to set the oven at?”

“Preheat it to 350. And keep an eye on those cookies—you don’t want them to burn.”

“Got it,” Simon replied, sliding the tray into the oven.

While the cookies were “baking” (a generous term for the mess he’d shoved into the oven), Simon pulled out some paper, markers, and glitter he’d found in your supply cabinet. Adira jumped in eagerly, grabbing a red marker to scribble a heart on a piece of paper.

“Mommy likes red,” she informed him with absolute certainty, her tongue poking out in concentration as she drew wobbly shapes.

“Aye, red it is,” Simon agreed, his own hands now dusted with glitter as he helped her glue a few sparkly hearts onto the card. “We’ll make it the prettiest card she’s ever seen.”

By the time the cookies were done, the kitchen was a disaster zone, glitter was everywhere, and Simon had flour smeared across his cheek. Adira was thrilled, though, holding up her homemade card with pride.

Simon pulled the cookies out of the oven, sighing in relief when they actually looked halfway decent. Adira gasped in delight, clapping her flour-dusted hands together.

“They’re perfect,” she declared, though one cookie was clearly missing a chunk where she’d snuck a bite of the dough earlier.

Simon chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You’re right, they’re perfect.”

By the time you got home, the chaos was still evident—scraps of paper littered the floor, flour smudged on the counters, and a sticky trail of frosting led to the living room. But in the middle of it all were Simon and Adira, sitting at the table with the slightly wonky cookies and a handmade card, waiting for you with proud grins on their faces.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy!” Adira exclaimed, jumping up to present you with her card.

Your heart melted at the sight, the mess fading into the background as you took in the scene before you. This wasn’t what you’d expected, but it was perfect.

Your voice caught in your throat as you held up the card Adira had made. The inside was adorned with little foxes, and the words scribbled across the page were a mix of Simon’s careful handwriting and Adira’s wobbly, childlike scrawl. The sentence read: “Call me Swiper because I’ve stolen your heart.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your chest tightening at the sight of it. The card was so simple, yet so heartfelt. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered love from the two people who had, in their own way, quietly wormed their way into your heart.

"You guys did all this…?" Your voice a little shaky, as you looked from the card to Simon and Adira, who were both sitting proudly at the table. Simon had flour on his cheek, and Adira’s face was a picture of joy, her hands covered in frosting and sprinkles. It was clear they’d both put their all into this little surprise.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face as he shrugged. “Well, Adira here had the idea. I just... tried not to burn the cookies.”

Adira giggled, holding up one of the cookies as if it were a trophy. It was slightly misshapen, with sprinkles all over it, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect in its imperfection. “Mommy, for you!” she exclaimed, her voice full of pride.

Your eyes softened, your heart swelling with love and something else you couldn’t quite place—appreciation, gratitude, maybe even a little awe. The moment was small, yet so significant.

“Thank you, Adira,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling as you knelt down to scoop her up into a hug. She squirmed in your arms, giggling as she wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, her little fingers gripping your hair with an uncoordinated but tender affection.

Simon stood back, watching the two of you with a quiet smile. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was enough. He was content, knowing he’d been part of this moment.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day gift ever,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as she squished her cheek against yours, still grinning ear to ear.

Simon hesitated for a moment, a twinge of uncertainty crossing his face as he stood there watching the tender scene. He knew he wasn’t quite there yet, not in the way you and Adira had been all this time. He was a part of this moment, but he still wasn’t sure exactly where he fit in. His eyes flickered between you, your outstretched arms, and the small bundle of joy that was his daughter, so full of love and happiness—it made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t ignore.

But then, your words cut through the haze of his hesitation. "Why are you just standing there?"

You were smiling, the playful hint of a challenge in your eyes, but there was something more in your voice too—an invitation. You didn’t have to say anything else; it was in the way you held out your arms, in the way you pulled him in with your gaze.

Simon took a slow, steadying breath, his heart beating a little faster. He moved forward, tentative at first, before lowering himself to kneel beside you both. Adira giggled as he wrapped his arms around the two of you, her laughter echoing in the warm air of the apartment. He wasn’t just trying to fit into a place anymore. He carved one out for himself—right there, with you and Adira. And that, more than anything, felt like home.

It wasn’t the romantic, picture-perfect Valentine’s Day you’d imagined in the past, but it was better. It was real. It was messy, sweet, and full of love. The kind of love that came in small, beautiful moments like these.

And for the first time in a long while, you realized that maybe this was exactly how it was supposed to be.

A/N: I just wanna say rq, I appreciate the love AND to the anon who sent this, your brain needs to be kissed. I said I wasn't gonna do long fics as often but this was too juicy to pass up. Thank you!

ALSO, pls yall don't have to send me asks to be on the taglist! If you comment I'll add u!

TAGLIST: @pipedream411 @ficcharsimp009 @frogofrg @loonagabs @lunamoonbby @vixenshiftsvrs @devoetee @shorty-tolentino @aethelwyneleigh27 @ayesha-eroticax3 @julesjuminos @tacticalgirlboss @teenagellamaangel @gifted-aurora @awildewit @emilia527 @danielle143 @maniacalbooper @t3a-bag @sockertop @arrozyfrijoles23 @azaleapeachberry @terry2227 @rip-cod-brainrot @montenegroisr @sweetheartturtle2007 @hepprine @kodokunarisu-blog

[auroreliis]

I imagined a situation that I found funny.

Imagine, the entire Batfamily on the beach while making a point of hanging around the reader's neck so they can participate in family activities(Forcibly) . But the reader is not at all in the mood to be part of this fake family scenario, and decides to stay in the shade on the sand making a sandcastle :3 . Jason, seeing this, decides to provoke the poor reader, accidentally destroying the sandcastle :(. Angry reader throws sand in Jason's face. Causing yet another punishment and forcing the reader to sleep in Jason's room. Poor reader

Hot. It was really, really hot.

Of course it was hot. It was the middle of summer and you were sitting on sand that had been in the sun for hours. In this heat, what could you even do? You wanted to stay at home and sleep, but they didn’t let you.

They wanted you to come with them to the shore and practically dragged you there, ignoring your complaints. So, here you were, sitting under a palm tree on the scorching hot sand. Though, you had kind of stopped feeling the pain. You didn’t want them to come talk to you under the guise of you seeming “unoccupied”, so you started building a sandcastle.

Most of them were in the water, probably to cool off.

Yeah, the heat was starting to get to you…

For just a moment, you considered going swimming, but immediately decided against it.

First of all, they would certainly bother you. You could already imagine Damian wanting to compete with you to figure out who could swim faster (obviously him, but he wants to spend time with you). You could already imagine Dick carrying you around inside the water because you “can’t swim properly” (you can, he’s just looking for excuses to hold you) and you could already see Jason trying to “drown you” as a joke, despite the fact that you wouldn’t find it funny at all.

“Hey, aren’t you hot sitting there?”

Yes, that’s exactly what Jason would say to lure you into the water.

“Uh, hello? You there?”, Jason waved a hand in front of you face.

Huh, that wasn’t your imagination, that actually was Jason. You looked up unamused, ”No, I’m quite cold, really.”

He rolled his eyes, seemingly having caught your sarcasm,”Sure. So, wanna go swimming?”

And let you drown me? No fucking way. Oh, right, be polite…

“Um, no thanks”, you smiled awkwardly, not wanting to anger him and, as a result, Bruce.

“C’monnn, it’ll be fun. You do know how to swim, right?”, he teased, trying to rile you up.

“No”, you persisted, “Thanks…”

Jason crouched down next to you, clearly more persistant than you, “Oh, come on. Surely you’d rather spend time with me than Dick, right? If you remain alone for much longer, Damian will surely force you to do something with him.”

Ah…

Well…

You disliked Dick and spending time with Damian was…tedious.

Jason wasn’t any better, though.

Noticing your silence, he spoke again, “Not a bad sandcastle, but I could help you make it better.”

“…”

“We could compete and see who builds better sandcastles”, his smile was still present.

“Um…”, you looked around, trying to find a way to distract him.

“C’moooon. Here look, I’ll help ya”, he started adding sand to your castle.

“Wait! Nonono! Don’t touch that!-”, you froze after seeing your entire sandcastle collapse.

Silence prevailed for far too long.

You couldn’t think of anything to say. Jason, however, felt the need to salvage the situation.

“Oh, I’m…sorry.”

Sorry? He was SORRY?

The audacity left you speechless.

The only thing you could do was grab a fistful of sand at throw it at Jason. He dodged most of it, but he certainly felt your wrath.

To avoid further conversation with him, you got up immediately and left.

It took only a few steps for you to notice that what you had done was certainly punishment-worthy.

What would Bruce make you do? You shuddered as you remembered the time you had to hug and say 20 things you liked about Jason…yikes. Never again, you swore and yet, here you were.

You had barely gone a few metres, when you heard Bruce calling your name. When did he even arrive here? Was he here from the start?

You stopped walking and turned towards him. The look on his face was…stern. He did not seem very happy. Next to him, Jason was rubbing his eyes.

Wait, did you get sand in his eyes? No, you couldn’t have, he dodged it! Did he…lie to Bruce about what happened?

No, Jason wouldn’t do that-…

Well…would he?

Bruce called you over to him and Jason, so you slowly walked towards them, trying to come up with a good excuse to avoid doing whatever he wanted you to do.

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[fluffylino]

hyunjin will do anything for your attention (psst maid dress ehe)

-contains mature themes

your eyes landed on your boyfriend who was all dolled up. wearing a flimsy little dress. his milky white thighs exposed even more when he crossed his legs.

ignoring him, you walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you couldn't help but steal a couple of glances.

he had pretty pink bows in his hair. a cute bell around his neck.

quickly pretending to rinse the glass. when you saw how he quietly walked upto you. sitting himself on the kitchen counter. a few inches away from the sink.

right next to your standing figure.

you simply gave him the cold shoulder, walking right past him to place the glass back on the stand.

he let out an almost inaudible whine and you mentally smiled to yourself.

two days ago. the both of you had an argument.

it was pretty petty. yet you were still giving him the silent treatment. hyunjin had been busy. no doubt. however it always felt like you were the only one putting effort to go on dates with him.

of course he too would also. but it had been 2 weeks since their comeback. and he had a lot of free time. and whatever. the point was, it was mainly you getting annoyed to the extent you didn't pay any attention to him. it was mean. and maybe a bit funny. but you genuinely were a little hurt.

you had stuck a tiny note on the fridge the night before. after he had fallen asleep.

it read :

"i'll only talk to you if you actually try to and make an effort for me to forgive you. i don't care if it embarasses you.

- :] "

he seemed to take it seriously.

in the first 24 hours he bought all your favourite dishes and cooked up some spicy ramyeon. adding an egg on top because thats how you liked it.

of course you ate it. eagerly. not leaving a thing behind. you were annoyed.

but your love for him was still stronger. you couldn't possibly hurt him by not appreciating the effort he took. however you hummed casually. not giving him any response. simply brushing him off like he was non existent.

washing your plate and his before walking away to shower. hyunjin sat at the table, head down.

almost like a attention deprived puppy.

today though was different.

you looking forward to his next attempt.

the tv playing on thr background while you sat on the sofa. not a single thought in your head.

except for the images of your beloved boyfriend in that skimpy dress. not to mention thr fact that he was still loitering around in the kitchen.

you stared at your chipped nail. trying your best to make it seem like you didn't see how he carefully trodded across the room. choosing to sit in the space between your spread legs on the ground.

he sat sideways, long legs awkwardly placed on the floor.

his dress riding up his thighs. just maybe a centimeter more and you'd see his panti-

was he wearing pink lace panties?!?!?

you bit your lip subtly, tilting your head to the side, to peek at what was under his dress.

you were right. he really was all dolled up. not to mention the perfume that radiated off his body.

making you want to pounce on him.

shit you were looking. you averted your gaze so fast you felt dizzy. luckily he was too busy pulling the straps of the outfit up his shoulders to notice.

you could feel his gaze on you. so strong. so captivating. you were sure his lips would be jutting out.

was he wearing your lip gloss??!!!?.

the extra shiny pink shade that you'd only wear on extremely special occassions. damn, you were screwed.

you wanted to take him right there and then.

in the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him looking up at you.

and you finally spared him a glance when he placed his head on the inside of your thigh. rubbing his cheek affectionately.

Sighing, you rubbed your temples. heart shattering upon seeing the way his expression dropped. eyes growing sadder. and slowly he moved away.

like a kicked puppy who was mistreated and ignored.

"come here" you quickly let out before he could get up. he scrambled up to his knees. elbows digging into your thighs.

"where did you get this?" you asked, carefully tucking a strand of his hair behind.

"online" he mumbled. leaning into your touch.

"m'sorry"

you couldn't stay mad at him. honestly you were fine. just driven by curiousity. "i know" you let out, sitting up to kiss him on his forehead. his eyes still closed as you pulled away. lips parted.

god, he was so cute.

.

.

"c-can't i can't hhnggh-" hyunjin cried out. bent over the short table. your strap pushing into him. it was a bigger size. the one that he was begging you to use on him.

"you can." you stated. raising your hand to adjust the cute pink bow that was clipped into his hair. it had come undone.

the sight below you sending waves of pleasure through you. his hole sucking you in.

lube all over his thighs. staining his pretty lace thigh highs. the bows had come undone. hanging down.

his dress pushed up on his back. displaying all his parts to you. dick hanging between his legs. leaking all over the floor.

"you're my pretty maid, aren't you" he panted, shaking his ass onto you. as if agreeing to you.

"y-yes...always at your service"

you smirked, kneading his plush skin. loving the way his lace panties were still on. torn from where you entered him.

"anything for you m-master"

"anything? careful what you wish for baby"

"i can take anything and e-everything you give aahh mhm...m-me"

.

..

.

i wanna write some more...but maybe with j-jisung........?

[betweenstorms]

Hi hello, hope you're having a good day Stormy! Your writing is always so good sjdjsjd always makes my day when I have the chance to read em! Not sure if you take requests, so if you don't, you can always ignore this! But I have a pretty interesting prompt that might pique your interest 👀

We all know Simon doesn't show emotions easily, usually the people very close to him will spot out the minute details that give away how he's feeling. Small twitch of the lips, tense of shoulders, that kind of thing. But how about reader who is slightly different, in that they also don't show emotion that well, but it's because they forget to? Sounds confusing I know, but for me I forget my mouth exists and constantly forget to smile at people when greeting them. So for reader, the only way others know how they're feeling is with the tone of their voice.

Hope that isn't too confusing to understand! It's a very weird thing I have, and have not encountered anyone else who share this lmao

Anywayyy have a great rest of your day, and remember to hydrate and eat something! ��

- Biscuits 🌺

Hi Biscuits! 🌺 First of all, thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so sorry it took me this long to reply, but I’m excited to let you know that my interpretation of your idea is finally here! I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed exploring such a unique and fascinating prompt. I hope you’re having a wonderful day, and don’t forget to hydrate and eat something too! Thank you again for trusting me with your idea. 🖤

You didn’t need to look up to know the weather outside was a dreary shade of grey.

Strangely, it was always just grey here. Overcast skies that seemed to stretch endlessly over the joint military base somewhere in Germany, as though nature itself had resigned to a dull monotony. Not that it bothered you. Weather, much like people, had a way of projecting its moods that you’d long stopped trying to interpret. Clouds could loom ominously, sunlight could break free in radiant streaks, but it all felt the same to you.

Emotions were like that too.

Amorphous, indistinct, slipping through your grasp when you tried to name them. For as long as you could remember, you’d lacked the innate ability most people seemed to have, the quick flick of recognition when faced with a scowl, a smile, or a furrowed brow. You saw the movements of mouths and brows but couldn’t place what they were supposed to mean.

To you, the dance of expressions was no more than a series of movements, the subtle lift of lips or tilt of a head stripped of the weight they were meant to carry. And so, your own face reflected the only truth you understood. Your own face usually mirrored the neutrality of the weather, a blank slate that rarely shifted unless you consciously willed it to.

Price and Gaz were out on a recon mission, leaving Soap, Ghost and you on the foreign base. With no immediate orders other than to wait for their return, the three of you had the rare luxury of downtime. However, despite this, none of you strayed from your usual discipline. The day began at dawn, as always, with the shooting range, gym sessions, or reviewing intel as needed. The quiet efficiency of your routines spoke volumes about the kind of people you all were, professionals through and through. There were no shortcuts at this level, no slacking off. You were the best of the best after all.

Each of you carried that mantle in your own way.

Soap’s energy crackled like a live wire, his easy laughter and constant chatter an antidote to the grim seriousness of your world. Ghost, by contrast, was the anchor—silent, steadfast, a figure carved from stone. And you? You found yourself somewhere between them, detached yet watchful, a quiet observer tethered by a relentless need to prove yourself.

You liked working with Ghost in a way that was difficult to articulate, even to yourself. There was no camaraderie in the traditional sense, no banter or easy companionship, but strangely, there was something deeper, something unspoken.

Your lieutenant moved through the world with the same deliberate calm that you valued in yourself, his every action sharpened by precision and purpose. You respected him for that, his unrelenting dedication, the quiet strength he carried like a shield, and the way his presence seemed to command gravity itself, pulling the air taut whenever he entered a room. And somehow, Ghost felt like a reflection, as though the world had cut both of you from the same cloth. He, too, was a figure cloaked in neutrality, his mask hiding not just his face but the emotions that might lie beneath.

Even with the lull in operations, you didn’t take the task force’s trust for granted. You had fought hard to earn your place here, shedding blood and sweat to prove yourself to Price and the rest of the team. The task force was a strange paradox—these were people you trusted implicitly with your life, but you knew almost nothing about them on a personal level. That was just how things worked. Bonds forged in war zones didn’t require knowledge of favorite foods or childhood dreams. Still, you couldn’t deny a small, nagging curiosity about the men you worked with—especially Soap and Ghost.

Both were enigmas in their own ways.

Soap, all charm and humor, seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, yet you suspected there was more to him beneath the surface. Ghost, on the other hand, was a locked vault, his emotions buried under layers of stoicism and a mask that seemed to shield more than his face. 

You had been with the task force for four months now.

It had been an honor to receive Price’s invitation, and though you felt pride in your accomplishments, showing it outwardly had always been a challenge. Ever since childhood, you’d struggled with recognizing and expressing emotions.

Your family had always been understanding, brushing it off as an eccentric quirk, and you’d never sought a formal diagnosis. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel, far from it. You just didn’t show it in the usual ways. Smiling, frowning, or even appearing annoyed often felt like trying to mimic a foreign language without understanding the grammar.

As a child, you were always the odd one, the kid who stared too long, too intently, when other children laughed and cried. Your parents, to their credit, were patient. Your mother, warm and pragmatic, would gently remind you to smile when greeting your grandmother or reassure you when a relative’s frown went unnoticed. “They’re not cross, love,” she’d say, her hands light on your shoulders. “Just thinking. You’re fine.”

But the world wasn’t as kind as your family.

As you grew, the peculiarities of your face invited suspicion, sometimes ridicule. “Why don’t you ever smile?” teachers would ask, their tone suggesting you were withholding something from them, as though joy was a currency you refused to spend. Friends, when you had them, would mistake your silence for coldness, your neutrality for indifference. By the time you reached your teens, you’d grown used to the questions and assumptions, building an armor of pragmatism around yourself. What was the point in trying to explain something you didn’t fully understand?

Somehow, your body simply forgot the script.

You forgot to move your lips when greeting a loved one, forgot to furrow your brows when confusion took hold, forgot to cry when sadness settled heavy in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel. Feelings bloomed and churned within you like storms on a distant horizon, but they never found their way to the surface. You were a house with locked shutters, and though the light was on inside, it rarely spilled out to illuminate the exterior.

Oddly enough, this trait had become an asset in your line of work.

Pragmatic, objective, and unshaken by emotion, you excelled in high-pressure environments. It was this armor that had served you so well in the military and later in the SAS. Neutrality was an asset here—a foundation upon which precision, discipline, and logic could thrive. Emotions muddied decisions, and in your line of work, clarity was king. When the invitation to join Task Force 141 had come, you’d accepted with quiet pride, though you’d made no effort to show it. Your calm, measured responses made you reliable and efficient, qualities that had undoubtedly caught Price’s attention.

But outside of missions, it created a distance between you and the rest of the team. Building camaraderie required a kind of emotional fluency you didn’t naturally possess, and though you didn’t dwell on it much, it sometimes left you feeling a little isolated.

Four months in, you’d cemented your place among the team.

They trusted you on the battlefield, and that was enough. Personal bonds were optional here, weren’t they? You’d told yourself that many times, but the truth was harder to swallow, trust in war didn’t translate to understanding in peace. Soap’s boisterous banter, Gaz’s easy charm, and Ghost’s impassive stares all existed in a language you couldn’t quite speak.

This morning, however, was different.

Breakfast was normally a solitary affair, a brief respite from the day’s structured chaos. But today, Soap and Ghost had joined you in the mess hall, their presence sat heavy at your periphery. You sat across from them, meticulously working through your meal while Soap tapped his fingers on the table in a rhythm that suggested trouble. Neither of them was eating, and their idle presence felt vaguely unsettling.

It didn’t take long for your suspicion to be confirmed.

“Y’know,” Soap began, his voice lilting with mischief. “Been meanin’ to ask you somethin’, lass. How’s it possible to sit there, day in, day out, with a face that doesn't move? Like a bloody mannequin, you are.”

You raised a brow, a slight, subtle motion that could have meant anything, but didn’t stop eating. Soap took this as an invitation to continue.

“You don’t smile,” he declared, as though it were a groundbreaking revelation. “Or frown. Or even twitch your face half the time. How d’you do that, eh? Are you secretly a robot?”

“I’m not a robot,” you replied, your tone flat but perfectly even.

He leaned back, shaking his head with mock disbelief. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re like a statue, don’t even look annoyed when I’m talkin’ shite at you. Bet you couldn’t make a face to save your life.”

You paused, setting down your fork with deliberate precision.

“I can make faces,” you said coolly.

“Aye, then let’s have a wee go at it. Give us a smile, eh?” Soap’s lopsided grin widened, and he glanced at Ghost, who remained silent but was now clearly paying attention, his hazel eyes flicking toward you. You blinked at them, debating whether it was worth the effort to argue.

Instead, you attempted to comply.

The corners of your mouth lifted in what might have passed for a smile if not for the stiffness in the gesture. It felt awkward, like wearing someone else’s skin.

Soap slapped the table, his laugh booming across the hall. “Creepin’ Jesus, that’s tragic! Like watchin’ a bairn try to wink for the first time.”

“Better than watchin’ you try to think,” Ghost deadpanned, not missing a beat.

Undeterred, Soap straightened up. “All right, fine. Forget smilin’. Show us angry.”

You weren’t bothered by Soap’s teasing, not at all.

Sarcasm and banter weren’t your battlefield, and you didn’t need to win these small wars of wit. If anything, you found his energy oddly endearing, a welcome distraction in the quiet monotony of downtime. So you furrowed your brow and narrowed your eyes slightly, aiming for something approximating irritation. Soap burst into another peal of laughter, throwing his head back and letting it roll out uninhibited.

“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” he howled, tears of laughter glistening in his eyes.

Ghost sighed, setting his tablet down with deliberate care.

“Enough, Johnny.”

Soap held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin lingering like a spark refusing to fade, but your attention had already wandered, your gaze tracing their movements like studying a map of familiar terrain. Soap’s restless energy hummed, his gestures loose and unrestrained, a stark contrast to Ghost’s deliberate stillness, every shift of his body a calculation.

And then his hazel eyes met yours—sharp, unflinching, and so steady it rooted you in place. There was no hostility, no question, only a quiet intensity that made your pulse stutter, a strange, warm stirring low in your stomach that you didn’t dare acknowledge. His gaze held you captive for a beat too long, the air around you heavy, before he turned away, leaving behind a weight you didn’t fully understand but couldn’t quite shake.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice lower now, more measured. “Faces lie. It’s your voice that tells the truth.”

You blinked. “My voice?”

Ghost nodded, leaning back slightly. “You can hear it. If you listen proper. More honest than any forced smile could ever be.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

Compliments, if that’s what this was, were scarce in your world, as rare as sunlight piercing through storm clouds. From Ghost, they were practically unheard of. Yet his words lingered, carrying a weight that pressed gently against the walls of your chest. A quiet warmth began to unfurl there, blooming softly like a flame coaxed from dying embers, a mixture of gratitude and something unnamed, something that settled in the hollow spaces you hadn’t realized were waiting to be filled.

Soap, visibly startled by the uncharacteristic remark, stared at Ghost as though he’d grown a second head. “Bloody hell, Lt.,” he muttered. “Didn’t know ye had a poetic streak.”

Your lieutenant paid him no mind, his focus already returning to the tablet in his hands, as if the moment had never existed. But you remained still, the weight of his words draping over you like a thick, unshakable cloak. Honest. The word lingered, unfamiliar yet strangely resonant, threading itself into the quiet spaces of your thoughts, where it settled with unexpected ease. Soap broke the moment with a playful nudge to your shoulder.

“Still, you could do with learnin’ a proper smile, eh? Just in case.”

Your eyes rolled, an instinctive motion this time, unbidden but oddly fitting. Soap’s laughter rippled through the room, bright and careless, but it barely registered, a distant echo against the steady hum of your thoughts. Ghost’s words lingered, heavy with meaning, a rare compliment that pressed itself into the quiet corners of your mind with a significance that eclipsed anything you’d ever known. Perhaps, you mused, letting the warmth of the moment settle over you, it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Maybe that was something you could finally understand.

[justcallmesakira]

The reader looking so pretty at an event in the agency, co worker dazai can't help but stare at her :> make sum scenario :>

"I SEE YOUR PRETTY EYES AT MINE, MISTER~"

Sypnosis: Dazai just cant keep his eyes to himself when a colleuge of his is looking so darn pretty!

Dazai x fem! reader

Genre: suggestive, romance

Warnings: reader is sort of cheeky, suggestive as hell, implied alcoholism, author gave the reader on what attire shes wearing.

A/N FINALLY A REQUEST AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG

The agency had decided to hold another party in celebration of a huge deal which would help the agency .

And of course you were invited, almost everyone was. You decided to look extra pretty today because why not, not because of others but for yourself.

You had picked out a extravagant ebony coated frock which covered all the way up to your legs and ended with glistening white layers of laces.

The party was at 8 o clock, you had time plus what would you do getting there so early?

Gently tapping on the tubes of lipsticks you picked out a vermillion shade and smoothly applied the waxy substance on your lips. The colour suited the rose tied around your neck really well.

Finally adding some final touches you rushed out the door and walked along to the agency.

There were colourful lights and food everywhere, Atsushi teaching Kyouka how to make decorations, doctor Yosano taking a bit too much of wine, ranpo staring at powdered donuts... To think of it you remember him taking 5 of them sneakily one night and you wonder why hes so obsessed with them.

But one thing you could notice was a certain someones eyes on you... Dazai.

You walked up to atsushi and kyouka, talking to them and teaching them some tips and tricks to fit in with the agency.

You could feel at all times though, a certain pair of eyes glancing at you from time to time from the corner of the room.

"Excuse me, i will just fix my hair and come back" you politely end the conversation before walking towards the door and going outside.

Despite your heels clacking against the floor, you could feel another set of shoes following them.

"Dazai-san, may i know why i feel your eyes on my at all times?" you ask putting a perfect spot from the distance between your figure and the mans figure.

He chuckled.

"Bella, i must say your quite the smart one arent ya'?" osamu replies back with much cheekiness in his tone as yiu turned to him, he had a black tuxedo, a polished and refined one, it hugged his body quite tightly too.

You just sighed at his remark, he was a ladies man you knew but you have never seen the glint and love in his eyes on a girl ever before, it amde your stomach turn slightly in a good way, of course.

His teasing grin drops and turns into a more soothing smile as he walks over to you which makes you back towards the wall unsure whether to trsut him or not.

He lowers his head a bit to reach your face taking in all of it's features.

"Are you trying to woo me, dazai-san? It seems like it"

"Haaah, maybe. The thing is bella you just look so.." you expect him to give you some compliment like every boy does when they see a girl sitting pretty and all but instead he gently took a strand of your hair, took it to his lips and uttered every single quality and flaw about you, it was as if hes born to have a poets tongue with you being the muse.

"I just want to admire you all day, my darling. Its not lust nor a small crush, it isnt even close to love but something beyond the world and beyond the universe to attend to, i dont know i could drown in your eyes right now but i would prefer staring at them for an eternity as if its a gorgeous piece of art hung on a museum"

he said softly, oh god did this man made your heart drop down your stomach and melt into your intestines.

With each word he spoke through his charming voice, you could feel his breathe and hands going closer towards your sweating body and at last, he asked for your permission to which you only looked at him with a slight embroidery of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Dazai tenderly kissed your forehead but though it lasted short you wondered whether he tried to go for your lips instead because of the shift in his body.

"Oi, dazai and [Name] if your done with your cheesy af encounter than come back to the party! Presidents calling you two!"

Atlast after moments of intimate interaction which wasnt even intimate because of the silent yearn for something neither the two of you could preach. Both of you decided to go back to the party.

Later in the relationship you realised that your first kiss with this loverman was not the type of kiss those possessive men would do which would take your breathe away but more of a desperate one as if to reach out for something which one already got.

In the end nor dazai or you could just confess normally without making each other look like two pieces of magnificent artwork looking at each other.

A/N: i hate this more than dazai hates him self :(((((((( btw reader is wearing this dress

Divider crds! : @cafekitsune

Tags! : @inojuuy @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie @tsuunara @elizais @saelique @chuuyasboner @atzuhi @riiwrites @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @rusmii

[naomis-daydream]

the panther’s prey // shuri udaku

summary: an argument has you questioning your relationship with shuri. due to your uncertainty and her duties as black panther, it’s been nearly two weeks since you two have spoken, but the Panther must make it known that she will not be ignored.

warnings: predator/prey aspects, oral and strap-on (reader receiving bc shuri’s a munch), scissoring, overstimulation, praise, and degradation if you squint.

a/n: i was gonna publish fluff…idk how we got here. again, i’m still new to writing smut so please be gentle. started as a short idea, lord this took so long to finish so show her love!

translations: ewe - yes, sana/sthandwa- baby, nkosazana- princess.

✧

The soft patter of the rain meeting your living room window matched with the low lighting from numerous lamps completed the relaxed ambiance of your apartment.

You were sitting on your couch, eyes glued to your laptop as your fingers typed almost subconsciously against the keys. You were trying to finish some notes so you could actually enjoy your weekend, wanting to spend your Friday night doing something other than work, but alas, here you were.

You took a sip of your tea, the liquid sending a comforting warmth down your throat. As you set the mug down on a coaster, turning back to your work, a rustle coming from your balcony causes you to jump slightly.

You sighed, hand over your heart to relax your nerves. You’d been really anxious since the attack on Wakanda, and though it’s been over a year since it’s occurrence, even the slightest thing out of the ordinary sparked caution.

You chalk it up to the winds, the Wakandan breeze having been particularly strong in recent weeks. When you attempt to go back to your work, another noise, closer, draws your eyes back to the door.

You lived on the fifth floor of your complex, so your suspicions about someone creeping along your deck weren’t too high. Nonetheless, you rose from your curled position slowly, inching towards the door. You flick the switch to turn on the balcony light, peeking through the shades. Seeing as no one a visibly outside, you sigh deeply before swinging it open, just to make sure. You quickly scan the area, your heart rate relaxing when you’re met with nothing but your outdoor furniture and a light breeze flowing through your hair.

You shut the door, locking it behind you before turning around. The small sense of security you regained left in a mere second when you’re met with a suit-clad figure standing a few yards away from you by the couch.

You jump back, hitting the door slightly with a hand on your chest as you gasp. One would think this reaction would warrant an explanation, a response, something from the woman across from you, yet she stood still, her gaze still felt underneath the metallic mask.

“Shuri,” you breathed, eyes widened in surprise.

The taller girl lifted her chin in acknowledgment, eyes still peering into you. You both stood there for a beat, seemingly waiting on the other to say something. Once you realized the small tilt of her head was the only response she’d give you, another set of words stumbled out of you.

“What are you…H-how did you-?” you uttered, looking from the door back to her frame.

Silence. Again.

The slight fear in your tone from her unannounced visit didn’t go unnoticed by her majesty. You exhale deeply, the frustration from her wordlessness causing you to drag a hand down your face.

“Look, you can’t just break in here and…”

“I’m not breaking anything.” she says finally, voice low and deep.

You scoff shortly. “Oh, so she speaks.”

The static between you two returns once more as you stand stoically waiting for a response. Again, you’re the one to break it. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to go ghost—well kinda, but I just…needed to think things through myself. Figure out what I want, what I need.”

“And it took you two weeks to figure out if I’m a want or a need?” She asked, retracting her helmet while taking a two steps towards you.

“That’s not what I meant, you know that.” you reply while shaking your head. “But that doesn’t warrant you showing up like this. If you wanted to talk, why not use your beads like a sane person?”

“Who said I came here talk?”

Your mouth closes as you swallow under her gaze, choosing to look at your kitchen cabinets rather that her hypnotizing eyes. “If you think you’re gonna seduce me after practically ignoring me for weeks, and not even reaching out to me when I left, you’re mistaken,” you reply, turning your head back to her.

“That’s what this is about?” She cocks her head to the right slightly, continuing to stalk closer, “I don’t give you enough attention, so you run away, knowing I’d follow?”

The roll of your eyes brings a smirk to her lips as she watches you fold your arms across your midriff, seemingly putting a barrier between yourself and her.

“Though you always loved the chase, didn’t you?”

You keep your eyes locked with hers as she continues, walking towards your hallway. “Let’s see if you enjoy running this time.”

That’s the last thing she said before her frame disappeared into your hallway, leaving you open-mouthed and alone in your living room as you contemplated what the hell she was doing.

“Shuri, I’m not playing these games,” you shouted, voice echoing in the absence of her response.

Your voice is the only one heard as you walk through the hallway, passing the threshold of the room she undeniably went to.

“Seriously, Shuri, stop messing around.” You call, walking to the center of the room, standing in front of your bed while looking around.

“But we haven’t had any fun yet, sana,” she whispers in your ear, causing you to jump for what seems like the fifth time tonight as she emerges soundlessly behind you.

You whip your body to face her, backing up slightly when your lips almost touch. She smiled feverishly, obviously amused by her antics and the reactions they draw out of you.

“Stop doing that.” You push at her shoulders. “If you’re just here to toy with me, you can go back to your precious lab.”

Your words make her step closer, you step back as she speaks. “Oh, I haven’t even began to toy with you, my love.”

Your brows furrow as she continues, her words matching her actions, strong and tantalizing. “You know what I think?” she begins, “I think you want me to stay.”

Your breath hitches as you step back further, the back of your knees buckling as they hit the bed’s edge.

“I think you want me to make up for the all attention I’ve been so neglectful in giving to you.” Shuri says lowly, voice soft yet stern as she rests her hands on either side of you. “Hm?”

This time, it was you who was silent, choosing to scan her face rather than utter a no doubt shaky reply. Her eyes were dark and inviting, irises so warm and enticing that it drew you into her, leaning forward ever so slightly. Her lips were parted as her warm breath tickled your skin, making you shiver. Shuri smiles as she studies you, the way you watch her every move. The sinful glint in her eyes only grows as she lowers herself in front of you, knees connecting with the wooden floor.

She sighs in feigned indifference. “You know, I’ve always known your body better than you do,” she begins, massaging your thighs intently. “As much as you attempt to be dishonest with me, she can’t,” she breathes, eyes dropping to your core.

The thumping in your chest is so apparent you feel it in your ears, embarrassment clouding your thoughts as you’re sure she senses it too.

The panther chuckles at your state, your racing heartbeat only amplifying her hunger to claim you as hers. She wants to take her time, to go slow, make you feel every inch of her desire for you, but she couldn’t fight the primal urge to absolutely ruin you.

She flexes her right hand, her claws emerging from her suit with a sharp noise. A gasp escapes as she leans over you, prompting you to lay down. Shuri props herself up with one hand beside your torso, the other dragging lightly over your leggings with enough force that the cool metal is felt against your skin, but not puncturing.

She kisses your collarbone gently, words breathed into your skin as she speaks. “We have a little disagreement, and you leave me. Running away like a child.”

You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as you feel the claw of her index finger disrupt the seam on the side of your leg, running down from your hip to your ankle, the noise filling the room. She continues to mark you, nipping and sucking at your neck as she speaks.

“You think you’d find someone else to spoil you like I do, nkosazana, hm? Is that what it is?” she continues, repeating her previous action on your other leg. “I fail to attend to you for a few days and you go to find someone new?”

Your quickened breaths are the only response she gets from you, much to her dismay. “So quiet now, my love,” She taunts, standing to pull the ripped leggings off your body. “Let’s fix that, yeah?”

Your body ached for her, you’re sure she could tell by the way you lifted your hips to help remove the pesky fabric, even more so by the visible wet patch on the crotch of your underwear.

Laughter vibrates through the young monarch. She could tell you want her just as much as she wants you, but she still senses the hesitance in your obedience. Usually by now, you’d be begging her to touch you, and though your reaction was slightly unexpected, Shuri had a plethora of ways of opening you up.

You hold eye contact with her as she lowers to a kneel once more, retracting her claws before pulling your thighs to the bed’s edge as she smiles up at you.

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. You knew it was inevitable that Shuri would come to you, look at you with those pretty little eyes, say those pretty little words that’d make you fall back in her embrace with little fight. You hoped it’d be different this time, that you’d get her to admit her wrongs before getting her in your pants, put up a little fight, just to show you could. Though the willpower you thought you had was clearly terrible as she hooks two fingers around your panties and pulls them down your silky legs.

“Fuck, sthandwa,” she breaths, taking in your soaked cunt. “All this for me?”

You don’t respond, a pitiful attempt at holding on to the little control you had over her—denying her your praise. Shuri noticed the chokehold your grip had on the sheets, wrinkling the fabric as to resist touching her.

Her finger trails lightly down your slit, brushing over your clit as a soft whimper leaves your throat. “There she is,” the panther purrs, locking your thighs in the crook of her elbows.

Shuri kisses up your thighs, stoping ever so often to nip at the pillowy skin. “You gonna stop fighting me, love? Let me give this pussy the attention she deserves?”

Her words make the pounding at your core intensify, aching to be taken care of. Like she heard your body’s monologue, she licked a long stripe up your entrance, eliciting a sharp inhale from you as she licked her lips at the taste.

Progress.

“I know you’re mad at me,” she begins, looking up at you with feigned innocent eyes, “but why punish her for my actions? Let me make it up to you both.”

You sigh hazily at her words, her mouth so close to where you needed her. Though you knew she wouldn’t continue unless you said it, gave her the satisfaction of verbalizing your need for her.

“Say it.” She whispers. “Say it and I’ll give you everything you desire, everything I have…I just need to hear you say it.”

“Panther…” you whisper. “Take me.”

That’s all she needs to lower her head to the heaven between your thighs. She swirls her tongue around your clit, moaning as she sucks gently.

“Bast!” you cry, throwing your head back with eyes glued shut.

Any attempt at hiding your need for her was long gone now. Shuri flicked her tongue rapidly over the sensitive bundle of nerves, admiring the way your legs clamped over her ears as she did.

This did little to stop the avenger, she simply pried your legs open, fingers digging into your flesh as you continued to writhe on the sheets.

“Shuri,” you whined, her name dragging over your lips.

“Yes, my love?” She mutters, kitten-kissing your clit. “P-Please, don’t s-stop.” you begged.

She opens her eyes to look up at you, scratching your hip to make you reciprocate.

“You’re going to regret indulging me, sweet girl.”

You barely sputter out a reply as Shuri drives her tongue into your drenched hole, curling it upwards as if she’s searching inside you, twisting the muscle to find that familiar spot that made you fall apart every time.

“Gods, baby, right there! Keep it right there!” You utter, releasing your grip on the sheets and replacing your grasp onto Shuri’s curls.

She leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your entrance before sticking her tongue out as your hips grind onto her.

That’s it, use me.

Your pants sped up, aligning with your hips as you fuck yourself on her face. You’re close, you both know it, from the way your legs are trembling over her shoulders to the pulsing of your pussy that leaked onto her chin.

“Yes, fuck! Shuri! Shuri!” You chanted, nearly prayer-like had it not been falling from such sinful lips.

Her name continued to vibrate off the walls when your release erupted through you, your body shaking as you rode it out.

The queen lapped up your essence, sucking every drop that threatened to fall from your center as she groaned at the taste. “Such a good fucking girl.”

You exhaled contently, beginning to sit up before a strong hand pushes your torso back down. Her name didn’t leave your tongue before hers was back on you, humming at the way your center throbbed at the stimulation.

Despite pushing her head away, you moaned, the lines of too much and too good blurring. “M-my love, please. Just wa-ait-” you stuttered, looking down to her.

Your words were cut off as she grabbed your wrists, pinning them on either side of your hips as she looked up to you with hallowed cheeks, sucking harshly.

Another strangled moan rips through your throat as your hands balls in fists, fighting a losing battle of breaking free from your highness’ hold.

“I can’t,” you say, eyes watering as she moves one hand off your wrist to push two fingers inside you with little resistance.

Finally, she pulls her mouth off you. “Aw, you gonna cry for me, pretty? Give me those cute little tears to match the way your pussy’s sobbing for me?” she smirks, pumping her lanky fingers steadily in and out of you.

“Fuck!” You sob, a tear rolling down your plump cheek as you feel that familiar knot tightening in your lower stomach.

“You gonna cum for me, Y/n?” she asks lowly.

“Yes!”

“Give it to me. Please, let me have it.” She begs, licking her lips while she curls her fingers up.

You practically yell incoherently as she guides you through your orgasm, a mix of moans and curses fill the air as you come down from your high.

A sigh leaves you as she slowly pulls her fingers out, you smile softly as she stands, lifting them to your mouth. You enclose your lips around her while holding her gaze, groaning at the taste of yourself while swirling your tongue between her fingers as she removes them, a line of spit trailing close behind.

Shuri’s eyes darken at the sight of you; locs messily splayed against the bed, eyes puffy and slightly red, neck full of marks of varying size and color no doubt worsening by the minute.

You looked absolutely beautiful.

She leans down to trap you in an intoxicating kiss, brushing her tongue against yours while cradling your face. Your lips dance with one another, going from slow and gentle, to quick and desperate.

She pulls back, chuckling as you chase her touch, to stand. You watch intently as her suit retracts into the toothed necklace laying fiercely against her neckline. You prop yourself up on your elbows as she removes her sports bra and underwear, dragging the undergarment teasingly down her leg.

Any hopes you had at ending at a mere two rounds died as her lustful gaze held you in place, unable to move as she stalked toward the bed.

She crawled beside you, laying on her side as you turned to face her. The two of you admire one another for a moment, the dips, curves, and everything in between on each others’ body. Shuri lifted two fingers to trail up your leg, eyes following as her touch tickled you.

She enjoyed watching you squirm, knowing it was her who made you this way. That’s precisely why she smiled as her fingertips grazed your shoulder, falling in the valley between your breasts. She could feel you shudder as her thumb tweaked your nipple. Your eyes remained on her face as you watched her play with you. It was common during sex with Shuri, she would often get lost in the action of touching you, seeing reactions she could get.

She treated you like a toy, meant to be played with and enjoyed for her own fulfillment, and you fucking loved it.

She reaches to flick your other nipple as she kissed you, soft and sweet, contrary to her movements. You moan in her mouth, relaxing into her touch. She places a hand on the back of neck as she rolls onto her back, wrapping a leg around your waist.

Your head drops into the crook of her neck as your feel your pussy brush hers. You roll your hips onto hers, rubbing your clits against one another.

Shuri groans, biting her lower lip as she matches your rhythm. She was so wet from eating you out, poor thing was rubbing her thighs together to ease the pressure growing inside her as she pleased you.

Your hand is above her head, holding you steady as you rock your hips together, the sloshing of your arousals mixing making you cry out as your third orgasm approached quickly.

“Shit, you feel so good,” she breaths, breasts rising and falling rapidly as she keeps your pace. Her hand reaches for yours above her, intertwining your fingers. She squeezes your palm with each connection of your hips. “I’m close, usana, so close.”

You both loved this position. It was one of the few with you on top, in control. It was more intimate than others because you both were so close, nothing else but each other making one feel this way. Panther and pantheress, holding each other until it became too much, picking up the pieces of one another just to chase the high all over again.

You grabbed the back of her knee that was previously around your waist, bringing it to lay on your shoulder as you rolled your pussy harder onto hers.

“Nnghh-baby, right there. You’re so fucking good to me. Ewe! Don’t stop.” She cried, hips nearly rising off the mattress in attempt to get closer. You bent down, connecting your foreheads as you breathed in one another, chasing that euphoric feeling creeping closely in the both of you.

“Cum with me, my queen,” you begged. “Cum all over this pussy!”

She rocked her hips up onto yours, groaning loudly as her body shook against yours. You came shortly after, collapsing on top of her as you both breathed heavily. She kisses your shoulder gently, muttering sweet nothings into your skin.

Though it took longer for you, your breathing slowed, heart rate returning to normal. Shuri sensed this, taking the moment to address the elephant in the room.

“So,” she uttered, hands resting on the curve of your ass. “I am forgiven?”

The slight uncertainty in her tone makes you giggle as you sit up slightly to see her face. You take in her features, while fucked-out, you could see the sincerity in her eyes. “Yeah,” you say after a beat, “I forgive you.”

Her smile makes your heart melt, the apples of her cheeks rising as she begins to speak before you cut her off with a finger raised. “But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.” You start, seeing her smile lessen.

“You can’t just shut me out for weeks, flake on our dates, and barely acknowledge me, then come over and and do this,” you gesture towards your sweating, naked forms.

“I need you to let me back in, talk to me, let me know what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours.” she nods softly as you speak.

“I am truly sorry, my love. There’s no explanation that justifies my actions. I just…I got scared.” she admits, closing her eyes.

“Scared of what, Shuri?” you ask, tilting your head in attempt to get the girl to met your gaze. Once she does, you sense the hesitance in her movements. “If I don’t know, I can’t help, Ri.” She sighs, opening her eyes to meet yours—kind and curious as the day she met you.

“I-I just can’t shake the thought that one day you’ll leave me,” she begins, continuing when she sees your confused expression. “That you’ll find someone else to treat you the way you deserve, that you’ll realize I’m just this…broken girl who’s heart you can’t fix.”

“Hey,” you bring one of her hands to your lips, kissing her knuckles. “You are not broken, and you damn sure don’t need to be fixed. You’re human, despite having the strength of the Black Panther,” you teased, earning a light chuckle. “You’re not perfect, nor do I expect you to be. What I do expect, is for you to trust me, to communicate with me, to let me take the load off.”

Her brows raised at your statement’s implications, a smile growing on her face. Heat rises to your cheeks as you hit her shoulder lightly. “Stop! That’s not what I meant,” you say, fighting the smile rising on your features.

“That said,” you continue, “I’m glad you came over.”

“Really? I was getting the feeling you wanted me gone when you started screaming ‘Shuri! Shuri!’” she mocked, earning another smack on the shoulder.

“Ow! Hit me again, woman. See how much of a load you can take,” she warned.

You smiled sinisterly as you hopped off the bed, walking towards the bathroom. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Panther,” you smiled over your shoulder.

You heard her chuckle behind you as the bed creaked, her footsteps trailing close behind you and the door clicked shut.

-

The bath you had ran was sure to be freezing by now, long abandoned by it’s owners who were meant to be “saving water.”

Somewhere between you running the bath water and Shuri getting fresh towels led to you ending up bent over the countertop with her strap eight inches deep inside your cunt.

You didn’t even see her get the damn thing, much less put on the harness. You would’ve figured her sex drive was fulfilled by now, but as you leaned over to check the running water, you felt her wrap her arms around you, pushing you onto the nearest surface as she slipped inside. The panther was indeed still on the prowl.

“Look at yourself, see how good you look? How good we look? How could I ever think you were made to take anyone else but me, hm?”

Her questions feel upon seemingly deaf ears, because all you could focus on was the feeling of her. How right she was. How right it feels when she’s inside you, mercilessly pushing her hips into yours so hard you felt her everywhere.

The pain of your hips meeting the cold, hard countertop mixed with the pleasure of her dick repeatedly hitting that numbing spot began to be too much. Coupled with the overstimulation from previous orgasms, you were on the verge of cumming in minutes.

Shuri noticed this too. She look down to see where she disappeared and reappeared inside you, noticing the clench of your walls around her as well as the thick ring of your arousal coating her strap. She smirked, knowing you were close. She changed her action from bringing her hips to yours to harshly bringing your ass to meet her cock, reaching impossibly deeper inside you.

You let out a guttural moan, now uncaring and unashamed of anyone who might hear you, making the woman smile. This was the panther’s pussy, and she wanted your entire complex to know.

“Shuri, please!” You nearly screamed.

“Please what, sthandwa sami? What do you want?” she says breathlessly, her own release building as well.

“Please don’t stop.”

“Tell me. Tell me who does this pussy belong to? Ungokabani?” she replies, her pace unfaltering as you whimpered, her words only lessening the distance of your high.

Who do you belong to? How could she ask such a thing? From the moment she walked in, she knew your were hers, if you’d really wanted her to leave, she wouldn’t have made it past the hallway. You wanted her, nearly more than she wanted you. You wanted her to chase you, to catch you, make you know that as much you try to hide it, you existed simply for one another.

“You! I’m yours. I’m yours, my queen. I’ve never belonged to anyone, but you!”

The royal’s hips faltered at the statement, lost in the undeniable honesty of your words. She toke the opportunity to learn over, whispering in your ear. “That’s right, nkosazana. And you never will.”

That’s was confirmation enough for you. With the next thrust you were cumming. Your limbs grew limp as you squirted all over Shuri’s pelvis, moaning loudly.

You looked up at the mirror, lower lip caught between your teeth to see Shuri’s head buried in your neck as she continued to sloppily move inside you. Her groans were stifled by your skin, the vibrations making you shudder as you felt her bottom out, throwing her head back as your name left her lips.

She bends over you again, kissing your shoulder before meeting your gaze in the mirror.

“Ndiyakuthandana, sweet girl.”

You hummed, a lazy smile on your face, eyes low-lidded as you replied. “I love you too.”

She smiled at your words, standing before pulling out of you slowly. You sighed as she did, missing the feeling of being filled.

“Come on,” she said nodding toward the shower, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stood, wincing at the slight pain your back. Taking her hand, you limped slowly.

Her free hand went to start the shower, fingers running under the stream to assure a comfortable temperature for you. Once she was satisfied, Shuri steps inside, pulling you into her embrace as she does.

Your arms wrap around her necks as hers cage your waist. Your fingertips play with the growing hair at her nape as she hums contently, leaning her head back into your touch.

You tilt your head up to place a soft kiss on her lips. Shuri reciprocated, pushing her tongue into your mouth. She pulls away your bottom lip between her teeth as she growls deeply.

“Mine.”

You smile happily as you reply.

“Yours.”

[xpeachy-keenx]

"lending a hand" — g. impact

PAIRING k. alberich × fem!reader

TAGS office sex. oral sex. creampie.

The stack of paperwork teetered at the edge of Jean's desk, and as you stared down at it, you could feel your soul trying to escape your body. Page after page, each report and memo seemed to blur together, a combination of monotonous details related to the Knights of Favonius' day-to-day operations. It was late in the evening, and the thought of spending hours on this task was enough to make your head throb.

Jean, seated behind her desk, studied you with her usual calm, though her eyes held a hint of sympathy.

"I know this isn't the most exciting task," she said, her voice gentle as if to soften the blow, "but keeping everything organized is essential. If you need help, I can—"

"No, no, I've got this!" you cut in, swallowing a groan as you mustered a smile.

You didn't want to add to her burdens—she already had her hands full running the entire ordo. With a determined nod, you swept the pile of papers into your arms, cradling it as you made your way out of her office. You moved carefully, every step a delicate balance to prevent a paper avalanche from scattering through the empty hall.

As you walked up the stairs and rounded the corner, a sudden presence broke your concentration. You stumbled, the stack tilting until steady hands pressed against the sides, saving you from certain disaster.

"Whoa, careful there," Kaeya's soothing voice drawled, his fingers lingering on the edges of the papers as he held them upright.

The Cavalry Captain towered over you, a playful glint in his eye as he smirked. You found yourself mesmerized at his eye, the shade of dusky lavender akin to the sky during twilight, and the mess of navy-blue bangs swept across his forehead as he chuckled and—oh no, you've been staring for too long.

"Thanks, Kaeya. I almost made a mess of everything."

His body language exuded mischief as he looked over the stack, his usual charm at the ready. "What's this? You're actually going to tackle all of that by yourself?"

"It's part of the job. Someone has to do it."

His brow arched, a teasing smile curving his lips as he fell into step beside you. "Oh, come now. I'd hate to see you burn out over a few boring forms."

He then paused, eyeing you with mock concern. "Tell you what—I'll keep you company. It's the least I can do for a friend."

"Oh, um, you really don't have to stay! I figured you were heading out for the night."

As you neared your office's door, a frown tugged at your lips. With your hands full, opening the door seemed a hopeless task. Just as you began calculating how to reach your keys, Kaeya's warm body sidled up beside you. His hand slid into the front pocket of your coat, his fingers brushing against you in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could object, he'd retrieved your keys, unlocking the door with a knowing look as he gestured for you to enter.

"After you."

You swallowed, slipping past him and into the room, making a point of avoiding brushing against him as you placed the stack on your desk. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him leaning against the door frame, twirling your keys around his finger like a prize.

"And as for your earlier assumption, I was about to leave, but somehow Angel's Share just doesn't feel the same without you around."

"Oh?" you asked, keeping your gaze fixed on the papers as you took the first sheet off the top, skimming over it with feigned interest. "Is that so?"

A missing pet report.

Of course.

You stifle a sigh, but the corners of your mouth twitch at the absurdity of it all.

"See?" Kaeya's voice cuts through your thoughts. "I can already tell you're getting stressed."

You heaved an exaggerated sigh, mimicking his posture as you crossed your arms, lifting your eyes to meet his. You held his gaze, letting a hint of playful challenge cross your features.

"Oh, really? And what exactly do you suggest I do about it?"

Kaeya's lips curled into a wicked smirk that made you break out into goosebumps. Without breaking eye contact, he stepped into your office, his presence filling the space. With deliberate slowness, he reached back to shut the door, and you heard a faint click as he turned the lock.

"I thought you'd never ask."

***

"Several reports c-concerning … the disappearance o-of the merchant … were filed," you managed, though your voice dissolved into a breathy moan as Kaeya's mouth descended once more, hot and insistent against your lower lips.

Each stroke of his tongue against your pussy sent your mind scattering. The wet warmth of his mouth was unrelenting, tracing patterns around your clit that made your thighs shake. His hands gripped the back of your knees, spreading and folding you over the edge of your desk. The cold wood beneath you was a stark contrast to the molten heat pooling low in your stomach, a feeling only he could bring out of you.

The desk groaned under the strain, the stack of paperwork teetering beside you—a reminder of the task you had at hand. But Kaeya's firm hold on your legs denied even the smallest movement, keeping you pinned and at his mercy. The ache in your clit intensified with each calculated flick of his tongue, leaving you yearning for the release he withheld.

"Finish the report, and I'll give you what you want," he'd said earlier.

Now, every tremble in your voice or falter in your focus earned you his low, teasing laugh as he forced you to start over.

"Slacking off, are we?"

His breath ghosted against your heated skin, the vibration of his voice sending shivers through your body.

"K-Kaeya … please."

His response was a deep hum, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh, close to where you ached for him. The sensation left your mind hazy, your hands gripping the edge of the desk to anchor yourself. You swallowed, forcing yourself to hold on to the remaining thread of your sanity as you started over.

It was an incident report. There were missing items of shipments en route to Mondstadt from Liyue.

"Missing shipments, nervous merchants … almost sounds like the start of a bad novel, doesn't it?" His tone was light, conversational, unaffected by the fire consuming you. "But who knows—maybe there's more to it."

You swallowed a moan, the sharp edge of his teasing mingling with the intoxicating pleasure he lavished on you.

"I-I don't know … maybe?"

You struggled to string a coherent response as his tongue resumed its slow, torturous circles around your clit. He pressed a lingering kiss to the crease of your inner thigh. His thumb followed, ghosting over your sweat slick skin with leisure. You bit your lip hard, the pressure of his thumb skimming in lazy patterns pushing you closer to the edge. The paper in your hand almost slipped free as a gasp escaped you, impossible to stifle.

"Dirty girl, are you trying to get caught?"

His smirk widened when he pulled back to lick his lips, his eyes locking with yours in a challenge that left your heart pounding. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned down, his tongue sweeping a slow, deliberate path across your clit. Your moan broke free before you could muffle it, your body arching toward him.

"Ah, not very good at following directions, are you?"

His tone was taunting as it sent a fresh rush of heat through you.

"W-What are you—"

He cut you off as he cupped your cheek and pressed his thumb against your lips, the weight of it silencing your protest.

"Shh. Don't worry," he said, his expression equal parts mischief and sin. "I know how to fix that."

Before you could process his words, Kaeya's hands were on you once more, helping you sit up. Your legs shook, the ache mingling with the pulsing need he left between your thighs. When he guided you to the floor, the cold marble beneath your knees sent a sharp jolt through you. He slouched in his chair, his legs spread before you with his usual swagger evident.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

You didn't hesitate, your hands moving to undo his belt. The cool metal of the buckle contrasted with the heat radiating from his bulge. You felt the faint twitch of his arousal as you popped the button open and slid the zipper down. The throbbing between your legs remained; a reminder of your own unfulfilled need. But for now, all you could focus on was him—his half-lidded gaze, the sharp curve of his lips, and the low growl that rumbled in his chest as your hand grazed him.

"But what about the reports?" you asked, though your voice betrayed your lack of conviction, your words breathless as your hand wrapped around his length.

Kaeya's low chuckle echoed through the quiet of the room.

"Mm, let's deal with them later. Right now, I need you to show me what you've learned since the last we met."

Heat rushed to your cheeks as his gaze locked onto yours. The intensity made you falter, so you dropped your eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand. Your fingers glided along his cock, the velvety heat under your palm making you chew the inside of your cheek. Slowly, you began to move, your hand tracing a steady rhythm as you rotated your wrist. The slickness of his pre-cum spread easily beneath your thumb, and you swirled it over the sensitive tip, earning a sharp hiss from above.

A surge of satisfaction bloomed in your chest as you leaned in, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to the head of his cock. His eye fluttered shut, his head tipping back to expose the elegant line of his throat. For a moment, you were transfixed by the way his mouth opened on a soft exhale, the sight stirring an ache low in your stomach.

When you parted your lips, taking him into your mouth, a familiar salty taste coated your tongue. Slowly, you worked him deeper, the smooth stretch of him sliding along your palate until he reached the back of your throat. You paused there, swallowing around him as you adjusted, your breathing steady through your nose.

"Ah, I knew you were a good girl," Kaeya said as his hand came to rest against the back of your head.

His words sent a jolt of pleasure straight between your legs, and you rubbed your thighs together to alleviate the ache. Determined to please him, you hollowed your cheeks and began to move, sucking in time with the slow strokes of your hand. Spit gathered at the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin as you bobbed your head faster. Your free hand found its way to his hip, pressing down to keep him from thrusting too deep, even as his cock twitched against your tongue.

The faint creak of the chair beneath him and the soft wet sounds of your mouth broke the silence of your office. Kaeya's low groans filled the air like the sweetest song, punctuated by sharp intakes of breath whenever your tongue ran along the underside of the head of his cock. He moaned your name, his hips jerking as your hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently,

You felt his control slipping as he pressed against your head, his length sliding deeper into your throat. You gasped around him, your eyes watering as he began to move, his hips rolling in deep thrusts. His cock brushed against the back of your throat with each motion, forcing you to concentrate on breathing through your nose, your gag reflex a distant struggle compared to the sticky heat on your inner thighs.

"Fuck! Yeah, take it."

When the pressure became too much, you pulled off with a wet gasp, coughing as you fought to catch your breath. Kaeya's hand was under your arm, pulling you up and bending you over the desk. The rough press of wood against your bare stomach contrasted with the warmth of his body behind you, his movements hurried and desperate as his hands roamed over your body.

The paperwork off to the side sat forgotten as he nudged your thighs apart, his hand steadying your hips as he lined himself up. The head of his cock rubbed against your wetness, sending a shudder through your body. When he sunk into you, the stretch was mind-numbing, the slow, steady pressure making you moan against the back of your hand as you bit down to muffle the sound. The tight grip of his hand on your hip steadied you, anchoring you as he sank deeper, bottoming out completely.

"You're so good at this," he whispered against the shell of your ear.

His lips brushed your skin, the faintest hint of his teeth catching the sensitive spot just below your earlobe. Your walls squeezed around him, drawing a low groan from him. He pulled out slowly, the emptiness making you whimper, before thrusting back in with enough force to make your desk move.

The wet, rhythmic smack of skin against skin filled the room, loud in the stillness of your office, but the intoxicating haze of pleasure left you uncaring. Each thrust sent sparks of ecstasy through your body, the friction perfect as his cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you.

Kaeya’s hand slid up your back, his fingertips leaving a trail of heat in their wake as he pressed you down, changing the angle of his hips to drive deeper. The way his body draped over yours felt possessive, his movements unrelenting. The world beyond the room faded into nothingness—there was only the feeling of him, the overwhelming pleasure, and the thrill of being caught. That was until the sound of footsteps approached, stopping just outside the door. A sharp knock echoed through the room, freezing you both mid-motion.

"Hey … you can head home for the night, if you'd like," Jean's voice called from the hallway. "Sir Kaeya mentioned you wouldn't mind covering his share of the work, but still …"

Your blood ran cold.

Wide-eyed, you looked over your shoulder, catching his infuriating smirk. His pace never faltered, his thrusts slow as if he relished in your frustration.

"O-Okay, Jean! Good night, then."

The silence that followed was unbearable, broken only by the sound of Jean's retreating footsteps. You turned back to Kaeya, your fiery gaze locking onto his.

"You little—"

Before you could unleash your fury, his hand slipped between your thighs, two fingers finding your swollen clit with a precision that stole the words from your tongue. The tight circles he traced sent a jolt through you, your breath hitching as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. His laugh was maddening, a low rumble that only spurred your frustration.

"Careful now."

His thrusts quickened, the steady rhythm of his hips driving you toward the edge with relentless intensity. Each movement sent waves of pleasure radiating through you. Your nails scraped against the wood of the desk as you braced yourself.

"Still mad at me?"

Your only answer was a choked moan as your hips jerked, meeting his with desperation. The dual sensation of his cock filling you and his fingers working your clit unraveled you completely. Your muscles tensed as warmth spread in a tidal wave from your pussy.

"Fuck—Kaeya!" you gasped, collapsing onto the desk as your release left you feeling weightless, your vision hazy as you stared blankly at the wall.

Kaeya’s pace didn’t slow, his breath ragged as he chased his own release. With a final, deep thrust, he stilled, his body pressed flush against yours as a sharp breath escaped him. The room was quiet except for the sounds of your heavy breathing. Then, his voice broke through the haze, the amusement in his voice palpable.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," he began, his fingers brushing idly along your waist. "But I never expected Jean to leave you with all the paperwork. That's why I’m here … lending a hand."

xpeachy-keenx. 2024. do not repost, copy, or translate without permission.

[jadedxhearts]

𝐁𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢

You wear a new bikini with the intention of teasing Law with it. Only, your plan backfires on you.

Warnings: nsft, afab reader (no pronouns but Law does say “my girl”)

Originally posted on April 21st, 2023

repost from my main @jadedrrose as a part of my most popular fics event.

You’d practically doomed yourself from the very start of your evening out. 

The crew was having a night out at some island, and truthfully you’d completely forgotten the reason why. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday, and there weren’t any holidays that you could think of. But, nevertheless you were excited for the excuse to dress up. 

It was very hot and humid on the island you’d be spending your evening at; and even with the sun fading away, the heat just never left the air. You also knew it was a beach town, meaning just about everything was on the front of the island, bars and such all incredibly close to the water, some even built on the water. So, with this knowledge combined you decided on an outfit that would work best. 

The base of it was a bikini. It was vibrant, your favorite color in a bright shade with a hibiscus floral pattern in white, littered across both the top and bottoms. It was also rather flimsy and small. The top was a basic triangle cup bikini shape that was held together by two string ties; one behind your neck and the other in your mid back area. The bottoms were similar, only the strings were more high-waisted and tied in little bows at your hips. The set was skimpy and daring, hardly hiding anything from wandering eyes. But it was an easy fix. You grabbed a pair of denim shorts and pulled them over the bikini, only leaving out the strings as the bows would get in the way. So while your ass was covered now, one could only imagine how the outfit looked underneath…

You slipped on a thin floral print open front shirt to cover up a bit more, then grabbed your favorite pair of sandals and sunglasses to complete the look. You reviewed the look over in your mirror, before deciding everything was set in place and you were ready to go.

When you emerged from the stairs of the submarine, it became evident that you were the last one to be ready. Some of the crew had stayed back to wait on you, but most had already departed for the island. 

Law stood at the front of the group, wearing white shorts and similarly to you, an open front shirt with a pattern on it. He looked at you suspiciously, raising an eyebrow and scanning the outfit you wore. He only let out a light huff and didn’t say a word, though. Once you reached his side, he seemed flustered as he slipped your hand into his and muttered, “took ya long enough…”

You looked up to gaze at his face, playfully smiling. There was a hint of blush dusted across his cheeks. But, you decided not to embarrass him over it. “I wanted to look cute… for you,” you replied to him, leaning up to place a little kiss on his flushed cheek. 

—

In the time that you’d spent pretty much partying in the beach town, you’d abandoned the shirt due to the heat. And now, since you were on the beach, you figured it would be fine to remove your shorts. Everyone else was in their swimwear, after all. It’s not like you’d stand out too much.

So you stood up from your seat in Law’s lap, stretching out your limbs before unbuttoning the shorts and moving your hands to slip them down your frame. 

You’d only gotten them slipped just under your bottom when you were suddenly stopped. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Letting your hands and shorts freeze in the position they were in before you’d been stopped, you turned your head back to look at Law.

“Taking off my shorts so I can get in the water?” 

It was only then you noticed you’d barely stepped a foot away from Law, so you were pretty much directly on display for him. 

“Y/n… don’t you know what your bikini looks like?” 

“Yeah, why?” You asked, trying to play along with him; pretending to be oblivious.

“I can see all of your ass, you’re practically wearing a thong.” He remarked, arms crossed as he frowned.

“Do you like it?” You teasingly asked, smirking down at him. 

“Wh-? Yeah… but, I don’t want some creep looking at my girl’s ass.” He pouted, the same blush from earlier dusting across his face.

You giggled, deciding to let the shorts fall to the sand beneath your feet. “Fine then. You can come with me and cover my ass.”

“I can’t get in ocean water, y/n.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to just return to his lap, only this time facing him. “Fine, fine. Honestly I just wore it to tease you… I didn’t really plan on letting anyone else see it anyway.”

“Then why did you-“

“To tease you,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying further into his lap. 

Law sighed, placing one of his tattooed hands on your lower back. “And did you plan on paying for it, too?”

“Huh?” 

“Don’t think you can just tease me and get away with no punishment,” he muttered into your ear, placing a small kiss on the skin of your neck. 

Feeling more daring, you decided to just dig your own grave now. With a sultry grin, you moved to kiss Law, removing one arm from his neck and placing your hand against his face, holding him as your lips connected.

Law seemed to tense up, probably because of the rather intimate display of affection you two were showing in public, but he moved his free hand to grab your bare thigh, squeezing the soft skin in his grasp. 

He briefly pulled away, but only far away enough to get some air. His breath came out hot as he panted against your wet lips, your mixed saliva still connecting you both together. 

Just before Law could kiss you again, you subtly began to rock your hips, grinding your lower region against him. A breathy grunt escaped Law’s lips, his body tensing up even more as he hardened his grip on your back and thigh. 

“Shit… you’re just asking for it now, hm?” 

You decided then to reconnect your lips, giving hot, wet opened mouth kisses against his own lips. You pushed your hips down harder, whining at the friction of your just barely covered cunt against his hardening length. 

Though your reply was late, you did so anyway, “mhm… please take me back home… punish me for being a whore, Law.”

Not wasting anymore time, Law practically shoved you off of him and slid your shorts back up, tossing your sandals and shirt at you before grabbing the towel you’d been laying on and taking your hand to lead you back to the sub.

—

As soon as you were back in your bedroom with the door locked behind you, Law jumped at you, grabbing your body and biting at the tender skin of your neck, sucking it between his teeth to mark you.

You let out a high-pitched cry, tilting your head back to give him more access. His lips were still wet, and as he dragged them across your skin, your neck became slick with his spit. The sensations felt so intoxicating; the slight pain of his bite before the feeling of his lips sucking you in, the hair of his goatee pleasantly scratching your skin.

“Law,” you quietly whined, legs shaking with need as you tried squeezing your thighs together, desperate to be touched. But his lips didn’t leave your throat.

“Law, please,” you pleaded, fisting his shirt into your palms. “I need you so bad…”

Finally, his attack on your neck ended and you watched with hazy eyes as Law looked down at your needy body with lust evident in his eyes, along with a mischievous look that meant you were really in for it this time.

Just before you could open your mouth to beg for him again, Law pushed you down onto the bed, grabbing at the fabric of the bikini top between your breasts, ripping the entire thing off of you. 

He quickly tossed the garment away, wasting no time to put his tattooed hands on your chest, groping and massaging the plushy mounds. Another whine left your lips as his palms brushed against your nipples, and you leaned your back up into his touch.

“God, you’re so needy,” Law shook his head, removing his hands and watching with amusement as you cried from the loss of his touch. 

Then he was grabbing your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he harshly flipped you over to lay on your tummy, one hand landing on your ass to hold you in place as the other delivered a teasing smack to your skin that poked out from underneath your ridden up shorts, which were removed from your body only a moment later.

Law didn’t even try to be gentle as he forced the denim off of you, throwing it away to free his hands. His palms were on your skin again, squeezing the fat of your bottom as he looked over what was left of your bikini.

The bottoms didn’t cover your ass at all, so when he spanked you again, the contact was directly on your skin this time with a loud slap. 

“You bought this thing knowing it’d piss me off, didn’t you?”

You tried shrugging but that was difficult with your current position. “I knew you’d like it on me… but not in public.”

“Exactly,” he hissed, smacking you again. “You’re such a brat, y/n.”

Letting go of your bottom, Law hastily untied the bows from your hips and pulled the rest of your bikini off. Once that too was tossed away, he freed himself from the restraint of his shorts. You continued to whine, voice louder now as he rubbed his cock against your skin, spitting down at it to get it wet. 

“Law, please!” You begged, “I need to feel you in me… I don’t care what else you do, just stuff me!”

“Don’t care what else?” He echoed your words, lining the tip of his member up with your soaked cunt. “This is a punishment, don’t forget. How about you don’t get to cum until I say so?”

You whined, clearly not liking that idea; but you had no say in whether or not Law would do it. 

You felt one of Law’s hands slip into your hair, grabbing fistfuls of it before pulling on it and finally sliding into your throbbing pussy at the same time. Already it was hard to not cum from that alone, and all you could do was moan and scream in frustration as you tried to hold your orgasm back. 

Law’s pace was ruthless and hard, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch from his cock as he repeatedly slammed himself into you, getting lost in the feeling of your warm walls fluttering around him as you tried fitting him in. 

Already, your cunt was flooding with juices and that only created more opportunity for Law to fuck you faster, hitting into you more forceful than before; lewd squelching noises accompanied by the slapping of skin echoing throughout the bedroom. 

You moaned and grasped desperately at the sheets underneath you, letting your entire body rock back and forth from the motion of Law’s hard thrusts. “ah-ahh. Law!

“Law! I can’t hold it in anymore,” you cried and begged, letting his name fall from your lips a few more times. “L-Law! Please, I need to cum, Law! I can’t take it!”

You listened for his approval but all you got were grunts and loud pants from behind you, Law not giving you any mercy as he kept up with the abuse on your cunt. 

“Law! I- I can’t- Law,” you screamed, clenching hard onto his cock in an attempt to stop yourself from cumming.

“I don’t give a damn anymore,” he groaned. “Just cum, baby… cum on my cock.”

With his approval, you finally let yourself go and moaned loudly into the mattress as you came; creaming on Law, leaving a white ring of your cum around his cock. 

And Law wasn’t far behind, he continued to fuck you, slam his cock into your spasming pussy for just another moment before tightening his grip on your hips, thrusts becoming sloppy as he let himself start cumming. 

He let out a flustered moan as his hot seed began spilling into you, but he quickly pulled away and let the rest of his cum spill onto your back, leaving a warm sticky mess on your skin.

You both panted heavily, catching your breath and calming down from the intense punishment you’d just endured. After a moment, you felt his mess being wiped off of you, Law gently cleaning you off before turning you on your back so he could look at your face. 

His soft hand cupped your cheek and a kiss was placed on your lips. “You okay, y/n-ya?”

You nodded, blinking away the tears from your eyes. Another kiss against your lips, and you wrapped your arms around Law once again. 

Lifting you up into his hold, Law decided you deserved a relaxing warm bath after what he’d put you through. He carried you to the bathroom, kissing your shoulder and whispering quiet “I love you”s to you the whole way.

[amarylliasky]

Number 10 was inspired by this one fic I found on Ao3 that I can’t remember the name but basically I just think there should be more modern aus where little Cale and Kim Rok Soo meet.

The soon to be eight-year-old boy watched as the black haired child cautiously took a bite of his steak, almost as if afraid that it would disappear and not yet believing that it was actually in front of him. What a weird thing to believe. Cale didn’t know where this child came from, but surely he knew that it was ok to eat, right? Or is it that he’d never tried steak before? Well that’s a shame. Because Beacrox made the best steaks in the whole world. Regardless, this boy sure was strange.

——-

Cale came across him while he was hanging out with Eric-hyung at the park near their school. His father promised to pick him up today to go out for an early dinner, however, he was late. Cale had been waiting for over an hour and eventually, Eric-hyung had to head home. So that left Cale with no one to keep him company except the normal bodyguards who hid being the trees in the park and thought that he couldn’t see them. Hmmm, would they be willing to play with him if he asked?

Cale figured he should have been used to it by now. After all, it’d been years since his father had kept any of his promises. Maybe Cale just wasn’t as fun to hang out with as his new brother…

He contemplated going home on his own, but ultimately decided that he might as well enjoy his freedom before Ron finished his errands and came to pick him up.

He spent a few minutes absently swinging on the swing set before a flash of black appeared in his peripheral. Craning his neck to get a clear view, he spotted what looked to be a little boy sitting behind one of the slides. Last Cale checked, he was the only one on the playground at this hour, so how did this child manage to sneak past him? He didn’t even make a sound. Was he like Ron? Ron didn’t make any sound when he walked, but Ron was also an adult. Did they go to a school to become that quiet? Did this boy go to the same school as Ron? Then again, the boy wasn’t as good at hiding as Ron was. Cale had a clear view of him. Also, the boy couldn’t be any older than Cale himself. In fact, he might even be younger, judging by his small stature.

Cale finally hopped off the swing and started towards the boy, trying not to make any noise. The bodyguards behind the trees were still looking at him. Cale wasn’t sure if they had noticed the boy before he did, but he was sure that if this boy tried anything, he would be in no danger at all.

When Cale got closer to him, he was surprised to see just how small this child was. While he was only a few inches shorter than Cale, the black haired boy was incredibly skinny. His clothes, while seemingly too short for his arms and legs, seemed to drown him in the fabric because of just how thin he was. Cale could also spot a couple of bruises on his face and wrists, and Cale was sure that there were more hidden under the thing layers of clothing. Did this kid get into a fight? Was it with a classmate? Fighting was bad. Cale had seen others in his own class get in trouble for it. Cale was sure this kid had obviously lost. He was so weak looking that surely he couldn’t have even thrown a decent punch.

Only when Cale was a few steps away from the kid did the other finally turn to look at him, though he’d surely noticed the redhead approaching long before. Cale was surprised to see his very own reddish brown eyes looking at him in apprehension and slight fear. While brown eyes weren’t exactly uncommon, he’d only seen that particular shade in his mother’s eyes and his own. So to see a complete stranger with the very same color eyes as him was new and very surprising. And from the sudden shift in the other boy’s eyes, he was surprised as well.

It was only a few seconds that they just stared at each other, one in surprise and curiosity, and the other in suspicion and slight intrigue, but eventually the silence was broken by the red haired young master.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Cale received no answer from the boy, so he tried again. “Hello? Did you hear me? You’re not deaf are you?” Cale watched as the child’s face turned from suspicious to blank. And the kid still didn’t answer.

“ I know you can hear me. Why aren’t you answering?” Still nothing. Cale tried a different approach. He wasn’t particularly fond of this one, but he had seen some of his friends do it at those fancy parties his family attended, so surely it must work, right?

“Do you know who I am? Who do you think you are to ignore me?” He tried to put just a little bite into his words, but apparently he was better at this than he thought. The boy suddenly flinched and looked down at the ground. Oops…That wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe he was actually worse at this than he thought? Or did it only work on your friends? Cale threw that useless act out the window and focused back to the matter at hand. He would have to do this another way then.

This time he made sure that his voice was softer, like the one Lady Violan used when she was consoling Basen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you..” With a little hesitation, he continued, “My name is Cale Henituse, what’s yours?”

The boy still didn’t look at him, continuing to look only at the ground rather than the one who was speaking. Cale waited, and finally the boy spoke, his head still lowered. “Kim Rok Soo.”

Kim Rok Soo. Kim Rok Soo.. What a weird name. Cale had never heard such a name before, but he didn’t tell the boy that. Cale felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and just said what he needed to say.

“Are you hungry? My chef makes the best food. If you want, you can come over and try it?” He reached out his hand, but the boy didn’t take it. The child, Kim Rok Soo was looking at him in fear and suspicion, but also something else? Cale could see that he wanted to come to some degree. Hmmm, maybe he didn’t want to worry his parents? That must be it!

Cale smiled ,”If you want, we can let your parents know where you are going?” Flinch. The boy avoided his eyes.

“No thanks.”

Cale didn’t miss the slight jolt when he mentioned parents. Maybe this Kim Rok Soo’s parents were kinda like Cale’s. Maybe they just wouldn’t care where he went? Something told Cale that that wasn’t it, but he decided not to ask. If Kim Rok Soo wasn’t willing to talk about it, then Cale wouldn’t make him. Still, he looked like he hadn’t eaten all day. Cale could even hear his stomach grumbling. He probably skipped lunch.

“Come on. It’s free food. You wouldn’t turn away free things, would you?”

Reddish brown eyes once again locked onto his. With hesitation, Kim Rok Soo reached out his hand for Cale’s. Cale noticed the boys hand seemed to be shaking slightly. It’s no wonder, it’s getting closer to late fall. What was the boy thinking, coming out here without a coat?

Cale hauled the boy up and kept the other’s small hand firmly gripped in his own. Geez, his hands were freezing. Maybe Cale should have Ron stop for some gloves on the way home. And a coat. And some bandaids. Now that Kim Rok Soo wasn’t covered in the shadow of the slide anymore, the young master could spot some patches of red on his pants. Cale hoped the black haired boy had at least put some ointment on the wounds.

Not too soon did Cale grab the other boy, as Ron had just stepped out of the modest limousine at the park entrance. Not noticing the child stiffening behind him, Cale resolutely marched toward his butler, hungry and ready to get out of the cold.

Ron gave a benign smile to his young master. “It looks like you’ve picked up a new friend, young master. Shall this Ron have Beacrox make an extra serving for dinner tonight?” Cale felt his hostage- new friend shudder. Maybe he caught a cold?

“Please do, Ron. Also, make sure to have them set out the first aid kit, and some blankets. And-“

Ron listened to his puppy young master list a few noteworthy items he would need upon their arrival with curiosity. Just what had the young master been up to in the last couple hours? In the time it took for Ron to finish his errands and take a car, the boy managed to pick up a stray. Said stray was currently quivering behind the young master as if Ron’s very presence scared him. Hoho. He would have to keep an eye on this one.

Cale made sure to have the heat on full blast on the way home so that Kim Rok Soo wouldn’t keep shivering as much. He mentally added a thermometer to his list of items for Ron to procure. When they finally arrived at the Henituse estate, Ron ushered both of them to separate baths while Beacrox was finishing dinner.

When Cale emerged from the bathroom in fresh new clothes, he was surprised to realize that Kim Rok Soo was still wearing the same outfit as before. Strands of black hair dripped water onto the boys clean face, so Cale was sure he had taken a bath, but why didn’t he use the outfit that Ron had set out? Was it the bruises? Maybe he was embarrassed.

With a little fuss from Beacrox about his new friend’s clothing, Cale and Kim Rok Soo were finally sitting in front of a modest spread of steak, fresh bread, vegetables, and other assortments of food. Cale didn’t even notice how the boy looked in awe at this ‘modest’ dinner. Like he had never seen so much food before.

What Cale did notice, however, was that Rok Soo hadn’t even picked up his fork.

“Aren’t you going to eat? I know you’re hungry.” The boy snapped out of whatever daze he had been in to look at the young master. “Beacrox-hyung makes the best food, didn’t I tell you? Try it.” And with that, Cale made a show of picking up his fork and elegantly putting a bite of steak into his mouth. Subtly observing as the other began to clumsily copy him.

Once he tasted a bit of the perfectly seasoned beef, the boy couldn’t stop himself from devouring everything on his plate. Cale kept an eye on him as he himself ate with much more motivation than he had in the past few months, maybe even years. Maybe it’s true, what they say about having company makes the food taste better.

Somewhere through the meal, Cale looked at Kim Rok Soo as his cheeks were stuffed with food, and couldn’t help but think that he looked like a chipmunk.

So Cale did what was only logical, and poked the child’s ridiculously cute cheek.

Kim Rok Soo froze, Cale froze after realizing what he just did, and that set the stage for a giant misunderstanding where Cale will find out just how different his new friend’s life is compared to his own.

And maybe Ron and Beacrox will try to diffuse the situation, only to ultimately make it worse, but they have time. And Cale won’t let his new friend leave before they take care of those bruises and his awful clothes. And that’s okay.

After all, Cale Henituse has a new friend named Kim Rok Soo, and he doesn’s want to scare him away, so he will give the boy some time. Cale will be there for him now and in the future.

[bisexualcage]

If it’s not a problem, can I request a fluffy MK1 Johnny Cage x male reader fic where reader suffers from a lot of chronic pain? I suffer a lot from it and I’m just really in need of some comfort from my bbg Johnny. I’d greatly appreciate it if you did do this!

-🦇 anon (idk if this was taken but if not im now bat anon)

(Sorry this took a bit long!! I hope you enjoy ❤️)

A Rising (Fallen) Star ⭐️ | Johnny Cage x Male Reader

Warnings: no warnings, just very damn tooth rotting fluff!

Relationship: Johnny Cage x Male Reader, MLM

An: I didn’t really proof read so rip

It was nearly 7 pm, Johnny had a busy day but you decided to stay in while he worked. He insisted on staying to pamper you all day but you basically forced him out, he wasn’t gonna miss a directing opportunity because of you. Or at least that’s how you saw it. Every time your chronic pain flared up you felt like hell warmed over, you didn’t want to burden anyone else too much with it and that included Johnny even though he consistently told you otherwise. That didn’t stop him from spamming your phone with texts which you’ve missed in your deep pained slumber.

“Babe, u feeling better? Take ur pain killers. U looked so tired b4 I left”

2:03

“I’m gonna buy u some stuff as soon as

I’m out of this building, I think they like my script idea! Watch out! Director Johnny Cage incoming 😎 no but seriously, u ok?”

4:48

“Hello? Honey???”

5:11

“They accepted my pitch! You’re worrying me. I’m heading over to the pharmacy to pick up some knick knacks for u stud😚”

6:19

Of course, your phone was left accidentally on silent and by the time you read these with guilt on your face you already heard the front door opening and closing, heavy steps approaching your bedroom door. You groan and yawn, sitting up weakly from the bed and rub your sore back. “Ah shit…” you mumbled under your breath.

The door clicks open and you see a worrisome Johnny with bags of stuff hanging from his hands. He takes his shades off as he spots your tired pained figure on the edge of the bed and walks over dropping the bags immediately on the floor.

“Babe, are you okay? You weren’t answering me.” He kneels in front of you and kisses your nose, his eyes so big and soft.

“My back aches so bad. I’m so sorry- as soon as you left I knocked out and-“ you rambled in guilt.

“Shhh, nonsense. Now, do you want me to start a warm bath for you?” He mumbled and caressed your jaw with his hands. “Get those muscles to relax a bit?”

You blush and nod, standing up with a wince.

“Atta boy’.” Johnny smirks and guides you to the bathroom slowly, getting the bath water going immediately.

“I’ll take it from here, okay?” You said softly, you didn’t want him to see you as weak. This has happened one too many times. It was stupid, he insisted that he didn’t see you as a burden and that he liked caring for you when you were in pain yet you just couldn’t stop being stubborn about it.

Johnny made a sigh, looking over you one last time before nodding and then peeping through the open crack of the door one last time, “Shout at me, I’ll be right outside if you need anything okay, honey?” He said tenderly.

The actor had a knowing expression, the way you were trying to act tough all of a sudden and able. You knew that he could see through your facade. When the door closed you started stripping and then submerged yourself in the warm water, you sighed in pleasure as your sore muscles relaxed. About 15 minutes passed while you were soaking in there, you winced in pain as you pulled yourself up from the bath. Carefully leaning over to get a towel, you were practically shaking.

“Christ-“ you sigh tiredly as you rubbed the towel down your torso and legs. Once you were done drying and dressing up, you started to smell something as you made your way towards the kitchen.

Johnny never cooked, not if he could help it.

Oh no. He’s cooking.

“Johnny wh-“

“Don’t worry baby, I ain’t burned the house down yet.” He turned around from the stove to face you, something simmering in a pot. Johnny looked at you up and down in your cozy pajamas and wet hair, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. He started rubbing the back of your wet head as he held you in his arms and talked.

“How was that bath? Warm enough?” He mumbled against your neck with his eyes closed, very at peace to be in your arms.

You grew warm and smile softly for the first time all day, “It was good, very nice.” You whisper, overlooking his shoulder and seeing the food being cooked. “Is that…soup?”

Johnny chuckled and pulled back, “It’s canned soup I got you from the pharmacy. Among other things.”

“Are you sure you’re cooking that-“

“Honey, I ain’t gonna stink up the house like last time I promise. It’s just simple soup I’m warming up for my, baby boy.” He smirks at you and walks over to the soup, turning the stove off.

You grow warm, whenever he called you baby boy he knew it sent you over the moon. He was being purposeful.

“Before you eat…” He looks back at you briefly and starts pouring the hot vegetable soup in to a bowl, your stomach already grumbling, “…I’m gonna give you some pain killers alright? You haven’t drank any right?”

You scratch your head, you could have sworn in your painful delirium earlier that you planned on taking them but you just knocked out immediately. “No I haven’t…damn it.”

Johnny chuckles, walking over to you with the soup in hand and places it on the kitchen island, motioning for you to sit. As you do, he takes out a painkiller bottle and gives you two pills with a glass of water. “Drink BOTH.” He said a bit sternly but with the upmost care in his eyes.

You groan, “Johnny-“

“Don’t Johnny me, I know you hate pills and swallowing them.” He crosses his arms, waiting for you to swallow them.

He was right, you hated them and you always had trouble downing them. But you took a deep breath as he rubbed your arm and swallowed them easily. It’s like his presence alone made things easier.

“Good boy! Woohoo!” He kisses your cheek, “Nothing The Cagester can’t bring out of people.” He jokes and winks at you.

“Alright alright- settle down movie star.” You smirk at him as you start practically downing the soup at a crazy pace. “These are good, no burn flavor.”

Johnny rolls his eyes and watches you eat with a small smile on his face, he was like a hawk. “I know you didn’t eat all day or take your pills.”

You look at him with shyness, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know honey, I know. I can’t imagine what’s it’s like to hurt all the time. You start to loose the energy to do basic things.” He says with an understanding face, yet he was holding something back. Biting his tongue.

“Johnny, I thank you for all of this. I know it’s not easy sometimes and I sure don’t make them easy.” You say lowly, looking down at your lukewarm soup.

Johnny looks at you with glassy eyes, or maybe that was the dim lights in the kitchen, you couldn’t tell. Nonetheless he swallowed heavily and walked between your legs on the chair you were sitting and placed both of his hands on your cheeks— looking deep in to your tired eyes.

“When I’m with you it’s like I’m a damn lovesick puppy, you make things unbelievably easy for me. I’ve told you before, I don’t care about what you got going on. You’re not a burden-“

“I didn’t say-“

“But you’re thinking it. You’re constantly thinking it. I saw it back in the bathroom. I see it now. And if I need to reassure you a billion times that you’re nothing but a star in my life then I will. I like taking care of you. I like doing these things for you. You’re my guy, you’re my boy.” He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, his eyes filled with nothing but care.

Suddenly, he leans in and crashes his lips on to yours, you’re engulfed by his warmness, his proximity, his love. He shifts his lips softly against yours, taking his time, your noses rubbing against one another. A small grunt leaves your throat and you reciprocate just as passionately. You then both pull back slightly, breathing heavily and trying to catch your breath with him. He keeps his arms around your waist, rubbing lightly at your sore back in circular motions.

“Someone’s passionate today…” you chuckle.

“For you? Always. Now eat up. After that you’re gonna lay down for me and we’re gonna try the new heat pad I bought you.” He grins with excitement.

“Another one?! I have like 5 heating pads from you already!” You laugh.

“But this one supposedly has some cotton flex technology that helps muscles or some shit, isn’t that cool?” His eyes are shiny.

“Is this what you decide to buy with your big new director money?” you laugh more with a blush.

“Hey! This big new director got his script approved today. Green lit baby! So more heating pads coming your way.” He says playfully, loving the banter between you both.

“Congratulations!” You say lovingly with a huge smile on your face, “I’m so proud of you ahh.” You squeeze him closer to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart! I told you, that Karate Zombie script was gold- wait a second are you trying to distract me from you eating your soup cause it’s cold now?” He says teasingly.

You snort loudly, clearly being caught a bit. But you were still proud of him regardless.

“Eat the soup! I will feed it through your nose if I gotta!”

[miasmaghoul]

Okay @herbal-quintessence.

A quick little something to satisfy your curiosity.

(Follow up to this fic)

"Daddy?" Aeon murmurs, tired but still incredulous. "Really?"

Aether chuckles in his ear, accompanied by the sound of rushing water. The other ghoul must be cleaning himself up.

"Really," he rumbles, fading into a yawn Aether doesn't even try to stifle.

It hasn't been too long since Dew conked out, still a sweaty, sticky mess after taking the shade of Aether's knot. Aeon hadn't expected that part; Dew's always been active participant in aftercare, needy for contact, but tonight the little ghoul had been out like a light before Aeon had even pulled out.

Aether had laughed gently at Aeon's immediate panic, but was quick to reassure him. To tell Aeon that Dew should have warned him about how his body handles the aftermath of quintessence. He'll be out for about an hour, according to Aether, and when he wakes up he'll need a bunch of water and a kiss between the horns before anything else.

Aether had also said that nothing short of armageddon itself could rouse Dew in this state, but Aeon took him off speakerphone just in case. Speaking in hushed tones himself. Wouldn't want to risk rousing the little guy, who is currently drooling onto the duvet while Aeon and Aether have a little post-nut chat.

"Didn't peg him for the type," Aeon says, reaching over to run his fingers through Dew's hair. Working out tangled ends. "Figured he'd be more of a sir guy."

Dew sniffs, smacks his lips. Snores. Aeon smiles, crosses his legs. Aether makes an amused sound then, and Aeon tips his head as though the other ghoul can see him.

"Who said it was for him?"

It takes a moment for Aeon to process the words, the gears in his head chugging along at half speed after all his hard work. His brain feels like it's been poached, fuzzy with electric heat. When he figures out what Aether means, and he can say is,

"Oh."

"Oh," Aether teases, breathy and feminine.

Aeon has to chuckle - he's sure that's probably what he just sounded like. He couldn't help it, really. Aether wanting to be called daddy? Surely that discovery is enough to warrant an embarrassing noise or two.

"And for the record," he continues, accompanied by a shuffling sound. A shirt being changed, maybe. "He isn't a sir guy either."

Well that's interesting.

"Oh yeah?" Aeon takes his hand back from Dew's hair to rest it over his suddenly tingly cock. No way he's getting anything else out of it tonight, but the pressure feels nice regardless. "What kinda guy is he, then?"

"That's for you to figure out, pet," Aether tells him, a playful tilt to the words. "I'm not one to spoil things."

Aeon snorts, but doesn't press. There's no fun in being told these things anyway. Better to learn by doing.

"Fiiiiiine," he sighs anyway, sounding woefully put out. "Ruin my fun."

"Any time," Aether replies, and he next laugh is one they share.

Aeon yawns then, tired to his bones. He slides down the bed, does a half roll so he lands on his side, scooches himself across the mattress until he's at Dew's side. Close enough to reach out and rest a hand on his back, tacky with their combined drying sweat.

"Think I'm gonna doze while I can," he mumbles, nosing at Dew's temple. "Will he wake me up if he has to?"

"You can count on it," Aether assures him. There's a pause then, a break in mood, and then Aether huffs. "Give him an extra kiss from me, would you?"

Aeon may still be new here, but he knows pining when he hears it.

"'Course," he says, pressing his lips to the shell of Dew's ear. "Anything you want me to tell him while I'm at it?"

Aether chuffs.

"You don't have to worry about that part. He knows everything I want to say."

Aeon's sure that's true.

"Consider it done," he slurs, body heavy and eyes heavier. "Nap time now."

Aether laughs, and Aeon feels fuzzy all over.

"Sleep well," he coos, kind. "And thank you. For tonight."

"Any time," he yawns, and despite that pervasive heaviness he manages to smirk when he adds, "daddy."

A clatter answers him, Aether swears in the distance, and Aeon hopes his phone didn't hit the floor screen-first.

[savxgelxve]

Moonlit Confessions 🌙

A Cedric Diggory x Fem!reader fic.

Hey guys! This is my first time ever writing a fic. I've been reading fanfics for almost 5 years now, but was either too lazy or didn't get the courage to post my work. Constructive criticism is appreciated but please don't be mean...it's my first time so it'll likely suck 😅 Do give suggestions on how I can improve<3 A huge thanks to @queer-n-here for helping me out with some of the dialogues and plot suggestions. Go check them out!!!

(The reader is a "Prewitt" which is one of the sacred 28 pureblood families. Much like Weasleys as they too don't care about their pureblood status.)

Warnings: none. This is just pure fluff ^w^

The moon was brighter then ever, as the soft wind blew playing with the locks of your hair. You stood by a large window of the library, waiting for him. But the serenity of the night sky had tranced you in it's beauty, so much so that you didn't even notice Cedric when he entered.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?”

You snapped out of your daze as you stepped back, startled.

“How long have you been here?” you asked with a surprised smile.

"Not long."

He replied with a smile, there was a faraway look in his eyes with a hint of excitement?....or was it mischief? but there was something about his expression you couldn't place your finger on.

"By the way, did you figure out the clue yet?" He asked.

"Not yet, that thing screams every time I open it. I'm surprised, it hasn't made me deaf yet." You replied, earning a chuckle from him.

Cedric had asked you for help with the golden egg he had got hold of in the first round of Triwizard tournament. He only trusted you with it. You and Cedric had known each other since you were practically babies. It was because both your parents were childhood friends as well.

"Then do we atleast have a lead?" He asked with an hopeful expression.

"Please don't tell me you owled that note saying, "Come to the library ASAP" just to show me a rock you found by the lake side again that was shaped like a pygmy puff." He teased.

"Oh shush, I did that when I was eleven! And the rock was cute."

"You haven't changed one bit, have you?" He shook his head chuckling.

You simply rolled your eyes with a small smile, "I do have a theory though."

Cedric crossed his arms as leaned against the wall with a curious expression, "Enlighten me, then."

"What if the scream was of the next creature you have to fight against? Just like the dragons?" You said walking towards a table which had two books you had picked out as you handed one to him. "We can try to figure out the possible creature you might have to fight against."

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them." Cedric read the title out loud, "I feel like vicious would've been a better way to describe them." He added with an airy chuckle.

"Don't say that in front of someone who wants to be a magizoologist." You said with a playful glare.

"To you even an Erumpent is just as cute as a puppy." He replied with a teasing smile.

Cedric pulled out a chair for you and helped you get seated as he sat in front of you.

"Since when did you become such a gentleman?" You teased.

"Well, I can't help but channel my inner gentleman around you. Just trying to set the bar high, you know?" He replied with his classic smirk.

You raised an eyebrow, "Just around me? Are you sure you're allowed to say that with all your fangirls eavesdropping on our conversation?"

He loved this banter that they had. You were the only one on whom his charms wouldn't work and he took it as a challenge to change that.

"Well, it'll be easier to let them know I'm taken that way." He replied with a flirty smirk.

You rolled your eyes acting like it didn't bother you but your cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of pink. It was barely visible but didn't go unnoticed by Cedric that was what he needed, a signal that he does affect her.

He rested his head in his arms as he smiled sweetly at you. "You look cute when you blush like that~"

"You're not the first one who said that to me." You replied with a sassy smirk, though internally you had melted in a puddle of blushing mess.

Cedric though smiling, visibly tensed at that reply.

"Haha, I guess I'll have to try harder to come up with compliments that leave you speechless then. Challenge accepted, and I think it'll be an easy win for me as it's hard not to compliment someone as adorable as you, even if it's been said before." He replied with a wink.

"We'll see about that." You replied with a small smile. "But for now, let's focus on the task, shall we?"

Cedric nodded, "So, that scream is well terrifying to say the least...could it be a Banshee?" He said pointing at the text under the image.

"A Banshee is a female spirit in Irish folklore��who heralds the death of a family member, usually by screaming, wailing, shrieking, or keening." You read out loud.

"Well I don't think so, I mean, whose death are we talking about here? There aren't any dementors here anymore. But we can't completely rule out the possibility as the Triwizard Tournament which was held in 1792, had one of the tasks involving catching a cockatrice. However, the beast went on a rampage and injured three of the judges, the Head of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. I read that in Hogwarts, A History." You added.

"Really? But don't you think that after this tragic incident the authorities would be more careful?" Cedric asked curiously.

"Hmm. You do have a point...so perhaps it's a siren?" You thought out loud.

"Maybe? I read somewhere that a sirens scream can deafen a man and transform a woman into one of them." Cedric replied.

The two of you searched the entire Magical Creatures section of the library for an hour, but there wasn't much of a lead. Finally, Cedric suggested to take a break to go get some fresh air.

You both walked towards your usual spot near the lake. The moonlight illuminated the crystal clear waters of the lake, casting shimmering reflections that danced upon the surface with an ethereal grace, as if the night itself had decided to paint upon the canvas of the water.

As you both sat on the shore, you saw a really cute rock. "Ced, look! this looks like a Fwooper"

He simply chuckled, "Are you sure you wanna become a magizoologist? You could become naturalist considering your never-ending pile of rock collection."

"Well I love cute rocks, but I love animals more. All the rocks I have collected look like some sort of animal." You replied.

Cedric nodded, "So we have the next Newt Scamander in making. I see." He replied with a smile.

"Do you have the golden egg with you right now?" He asked randomly.

"Yeah why?"

"I wanna see if there are any marks or symbols carved on it that can give us a clue? Or perhaps help us understand that scream in a way?" He replied.

"That's a good idea." You replied as you opened your side bag, as you rummaged through its contents. But it was a bit hard because of the extending charm you'd used on it. Finally giving up with a frustrated sigh you took out your wand.

"Accio, golden egg." You casted the spell making the egg fly out of your bag and landing on the ground with a thud which opened it.

A ear piercing scream filled up the quite night, as the egg vibrated from the sound and fell into the lake.

You stood their horrified your hands trying to shut your ears.

"Holy Merlin!" Cedric exclaimed as he took his shirt off and jumped into the lake.

Expecting to hear the screams he was surprised to hear a melodious voice instead.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this;

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

As he closed the egg and got out of the lake, he had an excited smile on his face which confused you.

"This things scream changes into a song underwater!" He replied with a grin.

Your eyes sparkled as you smiled, "It's Mermish! That means the next task has Merpeople involved. It's likely gonna be an underwater task!" You replied.

"We finally figured it out!" you said as you hugged him excitedly, but pulled away sheepishly when you realised that he was still drenched and half naked. You looked away embarassed and blushing heavily.

"Like what you see?" He teased.

"Just get dressed for Merlin's sake!" You replied, earning a chuckle from him.

The next few days were spent trying to figure out this what was the most valuable thing that the Merpeople would steal from him.

"What is it that you cherish the most, that you can't live without?" You asked.

"Uh...I don't know." The look that he gave you said otherwise though.

"Oh c'mon Ced! What is it?"

"You're asking the wrong question. Instead of what it should be who." He replied with a soft smile.

"What do you mean?... Who is it?" You asked confused.

"I would let you figure that out." He replied, chuckling at her obliviousness.

"Ced! please!"

"I've got Potions now, better get going before Snape gets all cranky." He replied with a smile. "Good luck with your little quest!" He added winking before he left.

You sighed as you hugged the books closer to your chest.

"Hey Y/N! I was just wondering if you're still up for the study session today?" Cho Chang asked startling you, making you drop your books clumsily.

"Oh shoot, I'm sorry I'm such a klutz." You apologized embarrassed as Cho helped you pick up your books.

"Don't be! I'm sorry I startled you." She replied with a smile.

That's when you noticed a book in her hand that you hadn't seen before. "What's it about?" you asked pointing at it.

"Oh this! It's a Japanese muggle comic, it's called a Manga."

"That explains why I haven't heard of it...so what's the plot for this one?"

"Girl! Have you been residing in a broom cupboard at the top of the Astronomy Tower? It's a period comic and it's literally so famous even the wizarding world knows about it! I've been obsessed with this, there's this really handsome guy who just confessed to his love interest! I'm so happy!!" Cho replied with an excited smile.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?” you read out loud. "How is this a love confession?" You asked confused.

"This phrase is a more poetic way of saying I love you. It's meant to express love indirectly, since in Japanese culture earlier it was considered rude to directly state your feelings or needs." Cho explained.

"Anyways I got to go now, don't forget about the study sessions! Also I have quite a collection of mangas if you want, you can borrow them. Muggle writers have really good imagination." She said as she waved you goodbye.

Suddenly everything clicked, as you were reminded of what Cedric said a few days ago. A soft blush formed on your cheeks.

"I guess...I figured it out, Ced." You mumbled to yourself with a smile.

[goron-king-darunia]

I wonder if you have a favorite Eg, Egg, and Eggy Eggtoberpost

Honestly, a style study of "Ed, Edd, n Eddy" for Eggtober would be interesting. (I did get your previous ask and am hanging onto it for ideas.) That said, if we're talking Eggtober from this year (2024) exclusively, I'd say anything by user @alkaline-noodles hit it out of the park. Their dedication and extremely photogenic egg dishes were really inspiring this year. There are still several beautifully photographed egg dishes that I want to immortalize in my own style. If it can be any year, user @cubicsoup did this amazing drawing of a raw egg in Eggtober 2022, and I still admire every bit of it! If we're talking overall, then anything by @quezify. As the Egg King and host of the event, Ruben just doesn't miss! Top of all time for me would be the Heart-Shaped Egg for World Egg Day. I just really enjoy how softly it's rendered. For this year only, it would probably be these fried eggs on green. Very classic and you can see that shift in style really exaggerating some of the choices that really make Ruben's style unique: that solid ring around the yolk, the rough pencil texture, and the organic shapes along with a common yellow and lavender contrast in the shading. The collection of some of their best eggs for this year's World Egg Day post are stellar though, and I love them a lot, but I'd never be able to pick just one of the bunch. The few egg on burger ones have been great too.

Some Honorable mentions from this year are users @arithetonberry and their squiggly eggs, @fivevotesdown and this gorgeous soft-boiled egg, @doradeluna's beautifully rendered, smeared over easy fried eggs, @kaehunterart's amazing rainbow-y fried egg in a very shiny pan, @quezify's redraw section from this year, @tiredyeehaw's crocheted egg throw blanket, and all of @nekko-took-egg-photos work this year, but especially this fried egg on noodles. We had lots of amazing participants this year. I wasn't able to finish all the art I wanted to in time this year, but I plan on finishing 31 egg arts this year. I just have a lot going on in real life and the world has been an ass this year. But I am trying to slot in art time when I can! As for favorites of my own, for this year it would have to be the bloody egg. Getting the hang of Krita has been a challenge, but it's nice to know I'm not tied to Clip Studio Paint to render art the way I want to. I think the bloody egg is the first freehand study I did this year on Krita where I've liked the end result and thought the process and result were a good analogue to working with the gouache brush on CSP as I had been doing in previous years. Favorite of all time is still probably Eggtober 11th of 2022. I started Eggtober in 2022 as a low-pressure way to get back into art after years of not being able to find time for it. I figured eggs were simple enough and I liked drawing them, so I might as well give it a go since I was trying to polish up my skills again for personal projects. The ramen piece for Eggtober 11, 2022 was the first piece where I really felt like I hit my stride and was able to put my ideas on paper more or less exactly how I wanted them. All art is a process of experimentation and discovery, but the way the noodles and mushrooms and egg and pork all came together in that piece just... really made me take a step back like "I'm not 100% where I want to be, and have a long way to go, but I finally remember what making art is supposed to feel like. I like this again." And I think my favorite for 2023 has to be the Pavlova. Another time where the process and product all felt smooth, like they came out how I wanted with minimal fuss, maximum learning, maximum flow state. I hope to keep seeing improvement in years to come. Eggtober has just been really great for keeping my artistic self-esteem up. Because even when I can't quite get the result I'm looking for, the community is supportive, and even when I struggle, at the end of the day, there is always egg. And Egg is pretty dang good, I think. 10/10 would recommend the chillest Drawtober challenge. 3 years strong! may this event persist for another 330 years at least!

[elderberries-and-honey]

The garment the shop keeper had shown to Winifred was stunning. Nothing she would have ever thought to purchase without the suggestion, and it took a lot of prodding from both the shopkeeper and Millie to even pay so much for something only she would get use out of, even if it was second hand.

Once back at the house, she arranged for Beth to take the children for a sleepover at Jackson and Louise's house. It didn't take much for Beth to understand the context of her request and naturally, she suggested she stay over with them as well to ‘help’. 

Following their departure, Winifred began trying on various shades of pink lipsticks and blushes that she saved for special occasions, taking her hair up and down over and over all afternoon until deciding on a style. It felt good to fuss over herself this way, as she had when Lawrence began courting her.

However, Lawrence's day had gone quite differently. His wife deserved better than how he had left her, and as he walked along the dirt paths, he continued to beat himself for having done so. He agonized the entire way home, running a nervous  hand through his hair repeatedly as he thought of what he was going to say to Winifred. How could he even begin to apologize? How did he explain what happened?

He finally reached the house, standing outside the gate, and took a deep breath. Part of him hoping she was already asleep as she usually was by this late hour. But the thought of her being up there, equally as beside herself, moved him along and he knew he couldn't continue to keep her waiting in uncertainty any longer if she wasn't.

Winifred stood in front of the mirror, taking one more look at herself before her husband would be walking through the door. The red gown was flattering on her figure, even she could see that, fitting snugly on the places of her body she had grown self conscious over but instead of detesting it, she admired how they looked instead. She felt prettier than she had in weeks, her reflection a little closer to someone she recognized. 

She had been so lost in herself, she hadn’t heard the front door shut but the loose floorboards on the wooden steps squeaked under the weight of his shoes and gave away his position. 

"Oh no..." she whispered, suddenly insecure of her outfit. Was it too much? What if he thought she resembled some kind of harlot? "Oh, goodness me...oh, bloody hell." She mumbled under her breath, gathering the train of the gown before sprinting into the bathroom for refuge.

She made it to safety just in time, hearing the door of their bedroom open, and Lawrence calling out for her.

"Winifred, are you in there?" Lawrence asked from the other side of the bathroom, though he could see her shadow moving around through the crack beneath the door. When there was no reply, he added, "Will you please come out of there so we can talk this through?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, and every second that crept on by, she wished more and more that she could put on her nightgown instead of this scantily-clad outfit. But then she thought about what Millie had said, that she'd never seen anyone look at another the way Lawrence looked at her. She needed to see it for herself, to know for sure that her husband still pined for her.

Finally, she stood in the doorway, still fearing it was too much. 

"Do you like it?" She asked timidly, but even the thickest of skulls could pick on the coyness that lingered in her voice too.

Lawrence's eyes widened as he took it all in, not even sure where to look first. "Of course, I mean...you...bloody hell!" He blurted, laughing at himself a little for the outburst. "You look amazing."

There it was! That gleam in his eyes, the one Millie told her she saw, the one that they wrote romantic stories about, the one that told her wasn't making a fool of herself. But slowly the cogs inside his brain started to turn and the expression began to change once he started putting the pieces together.

His shoulders slumped, staring at his wife for a long while before saying anything more. He knew that he had left her vulnerable and alone this morning, and here was the price he had to pay, albeit not a particularly awful one.

"I am deeply sorry for leaving you like that this morning Winifred." Lawrence finally said. "I was less of a man for having done so than what preceded it, and I sincerely hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

She listened to his explanation attentively, trying to make sure she held space for both of their feelings in her heart. Afterwards, she revealed the truth about how she'd been feeling about herself lately.

"But I do truly forgive you." She said, looking up at him now. She truly believed it took a lot of humility to confess something like that and had no intention of holding it against him, if anything, it only deepened her compassion towards how much pressure he'd been under lately.

The tension and unease that had plagued Lawrence since he stepped out of the house that morning dissolved the moment Winifred embraced him. It was hard for him to believe his Winifred could see herself as anything less than ravishing but he was determined to make more of an effort to remind her, and he decided there was no time like the present. 

He spun her around to face the mirror, trying to keep his eager hands from wandering too much. He was determined to take his time, to show her how he adored every part of her.

"I should have taken you in front of this mirror and shown you how beautiful you are, Mrs. Baudelaire," Lawrence said, his words laced with sweetness and honey, "do you see how beautiful?" He asked as he stared into the reflection.

As Winifred looked up at herself yet again for the dozenth time that day, she smiled, feeling more elegant than she had even just a half hour before with Lawrence standing next to her now. "I do," Winifred said. "You make me feel beautiful, Lawrence."

"That's all I needed to hear." He whispered, dipping his head lower towards the flesh of her neckline. "Now, why don't I make you feel good too?" He murmured in her ear. His lips pressed against her skin, kissing her earlobe, and then down her neck while Winifred leaned into the feeling. 

She had yearned for his touch all day, needing that reassurance that she was still desirable and worthy of intimacy, and she couldn't keep her longing for it to herself for another moment. She stepped away from him for only a mere second, quickly finding his arms again. His hands slid to her waist just as fast, needing her to be nearer to him even still.

Lifting her with ease, he carried her over to the bed, ensuring that he matched the feverish way she had begun to kiss his lips. He might not have been able join her in euphoria, but he understood now more than ever that taking her there even when he couldn't go there himself was important in a marriage.

next / previous / first