#i understand but at the same time SIR YOU HAVE MORE PRESSING MATTERS.

[everyharleyhartwell]

[lehguru]

THINK YOU NEED SOMEONE YOUNGER + ONE PIECE MEN

they start to realize they might be a little too old for you ft. crocodile, mihawk, smoker, shanks, doflamingo, corazon

info: will do this for other fandoms too i think, angsty on some; not proofread

crocodile never felt insecure, at least when it came to your relationship. after he left impel down and came to look for you, things got a little... weird. he was avoiding you. you knew it wasn't because he didn't want to bring you into his business (he did it more than once), it was something you didn't really understand. before you could even confront him about it, he said out of nowhere one day: "did you... get with anyone while i was away?" he looked at you with a hard stare. "someone... younger?" you almost laughed at his question, but you held yourself back. your arms circled his waist and you rested your chin on his chest. 'i don't know anyone younger that is as attractive as you, sir.' he grinned, holding the back of your head with his hand. "good."

mihawk noticed how you and zoro interacted during his time at the island. he wasn't suspicious that something was happening, he knew you would never cheat on him or break his trust; but... a thought started to spread in his mind like poison. once zoro and perona left, and you two finally managed to carry on with your married life alone, he asked you one day while you drank tea together. "how do you feel about me being... older?" you looked at him with raised eyebrows and 'the only thing that matters to me is you. i fell in love with your personality and the way you treat me, not your age.' he hummed, a deep sound that you know reverberated on his chest. even if it was faint, you could see a soft pink dusting his cheeks.

smoker didn't think about your age gap until he overheard some of the new recruits talking about you two. captain smoker having a younger partner is a little weird isn't it, was what they said. when he was back home and you were resting against his chest, softly playing with the hair on the area, he told you about it. you looked up, your eyes shining, 'old pan makes good food'. the laughter that left his lips was one that he always reserved for you, his most sincere and genuine laugh; he pressed his lips on the top of your head, murmuring praises and love confessions against your hair.

shanks really didn't care about it, not as much as other members of his crew did – with how well they knew their captain, the man would be destroyed if you decided to leave him. 'she might go for a younger guy, when your thing doesn't get up anymore.' they usually voiced their concerns in the form of jokes, so they wouldn't be too harsh on their captain, but it was effective. those comments made him start to realize what you two were – lovers. one day, without telling you, he and the crew left. simply left the island, leaving you behind with only an note written "don't look for me." in a messy manner.

one thing about doflamingo is that he gets whatever he wants whenever he wants. and since the moment he laid eyes on you, you were his. the people that tried to comment on your age gap always "mysteriously" disappeared, even if they were from inside his organization. no one could talk about him and his partner like that. if he ever brought up the topic, it was only to test if you were seeing anyone or wanted someone younger (he knows you don't. he knows everything); your praises towards him and your love always left him pleased – he would give you the same in return.

corazon is frequently insecure about your relationship. he wonders if you really love him, if he's good enough for you, if he's being a good boyfriend, if he missed any important date that he should've remembered – your age gap (made worse by your height gap too) is only another one of those concerns. no matter what you say, he often asks you if you wouldn't want to be with someone younger and with a better family than him. one day, after he asked that for the millionth time, you answered: "we can have a family of our own, rosi. you deserve happiness. you said once i made you happy, so i will stay. the only way you're going to get rid of me is if one of us is gone." he chuckled and smiled widely, as he often did around you and law, hugging you tightly against his body. 'i adore you. with all my heart and soul, i love you.'

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

[bunnyinvanilla]

you just need reassurance from old sugar daddy!john price aaall the time — bunnies are territorial, especially a soft, young, little bunny girl like you… (laaaarge age gap, reader is 21 and price is in his late 40s)

“what the heck is a barracks bunny?”

the urgency behind your voice rung in john’s ears like an alert bell, like the one he’d always felt when he’d been a lieutenant — he hadn’t expected you to stomp in front him like that, phone in hand and frowning.

“what? who taught you this word, doll? was it Johnny-“

your sweet voice interrupted him, followed by your free hand, lifted upwards towards him in a dismissive manner, “no no, sir, pleaser, answer my question.”

he’d never seen you like this, hand adorably set on your hip, titled in the most delicate yet delicious way, doe eyes narrowed and slightly squinted, excepting an answer — your sweet, sweet bunny features clearly petty over something.

always so polite and obedient, so sweet and kind, what had gotten into you?

“is there one at the base, sir? I promise, if the answer is yes i-“

but you stumbled on your own words, because as soon as he caught the sparks of irritation in your voice, he stood up, straightening his muscular and broad shoulders — he looked down at you, his buff body that always picked you up so effortlessly slowly inched closer to you.

“you what, doll? mmh?” his voice sounded rougher, a hint of threatening warning behind it.

you flattered your lashes, tenderly, a silent, docile sign of submission in the midst of that moment,

“is there one, sir?” you repeated, your voice small but steady, tilting your head all the way up to meet his intense, sharp gaze.

“you already know the answer, princess, of course not. where did you even learn that from?”

”it doesn’t matter, sir, I-“ you replied dismissively, but his voice rumbled taking over your own, a low, gruff baritone that echoes deeply in your eardrums

“asked you a question, sweetheart. where.”

you swallowed, your eyelids trembling softly as you blinked up at him, shifting your position — when bunnies felt neglected, they pushed their nose against their owner’s body, seeking, demanding attention and clarification.

“everyone on the internet is talking about being afraid of their men in the military possibly having one, and-“

“and you immediately thought we’d have one at the base, huh doll?”

you softened your expression, and he could finally recognize his bunny back, obedient and gentle “you can’t blame me sir, i was only worried, was simply a question, i never know what really goes on in the base and—“

“no, no, no doll, you need to remember who you’re talking to, even when you ‘only want to ask’” he lifted his large hand and cupped your chin, squeezing your cheeks with a firm, yet gentle enough grip. “understand?”

your cheeks burned, bright and red between his calloused fingers, “I know but—“

a flicker of warning passed through his thin, squinted eyes like a shooting star, “do you understand, doll?”

you pressed your lips together, the serious look behind his eyes making your imaginary bunny ears tug down, back towards your head, and your tail tuck between your legs — you only nodded, still holding the same pouty expression.

he tilted his head expectantly, deepening his voice and cooing down at you, slightly raising his brows “that’s not how you answer me, is it sweetheart?”

“yes, daddy,” you finally let the words slip out, eyes softening even more when you recognized the tiny twitch of his mustache, that tried to hide and disguise his growing entertainment —

your cheeks burn brightly, a warm, red blush that almost felt warm against his calloused fingers, how could he be mad at his bunnygirl for being worried about her daddy? you’re so clingy and possessive, and it amuses him :(

with a short tug of you chin, he lifted your face closer to his, mere inches from his beard as he almost breathed against your lips, his voice so rough and low it sounded the rumble of distant fireworks.

“we don’t have that sort of thing in the base, angel, would never allow it, the only bunny I have hopping around me is you, little one. guess that makes you the captain’s personal barracks bunny, doesn’t it?”

[drmaddict]

Black Sheeps Together

Summary: (Y/n) and Aegon have always been the black sheeps of the family. But they have each other.

Word Count: 827

Author's note: just fluff, no plot, nothing, just comfort for the author of having someone to be fucked up together with

They both sat silently at the table, looking listless into space.

They had endured the usual expressions of disappointment from there families.

Aegon reached for his wine cup with stubborn eyes. She twisted her wedding ring on her finger and looked at the flickering candle in front of her.

She was too volatile for her family. She was interested in too many things at the same time and now had a wide-ranging but sporadic knowledge. He was only interested in things that were not valuable at court.

No one saw any talent in them. Not even their mothers.

Rhaenyra and Alicent had been furious when they found out about them.

Sir Arryk had found them both. Intertwined and loving each other. They were the black sheep of the family. Always had been. It bound them together. It united them. It created an understanding and it created a home. They knew that the other understood. They knew they could find a safe place in each other.

Their mothers only saw the shame they almost brought upon the house. Back when they were children of ten and seven and ten and five, they decided they would marry. That Aegon would not follow his mother's plan and marry Haelena. Back then, when they found their way to each other in the night and consummated a marriage, that had not yet existed. Back then, when they saw their hope in each other.

The world now only saw (Y/n)'s inability to give Aegon a son after her womb was broken following the birth of her first child, her daughter.

They both sat in the hall and ate with the others. Even though Aegon drank more than he ate and (Y/n) dwelled more on her thoughts than dwelling in reality.

Only his hand managed to bring her back to the here and now.

Her eyes rested on his violet irises, which looked at her, exhausted and sad.

She smiled sadly. He squeezed her hand. He leaned towards her.

"I would rather sleep in a latrine of flea bottom, than listen to even one more eulogy to Lucerya and Aemond."

She smirked. She quickly pressed her lips together to suppress her grin. "They're almost as pleasant to endure as the fish from that yellow tavern.", she smirked.

Aegon chuckled. "Mother really thought you were pregnant again."

"She'd think the sun was rising in the west, too, if it meant she could still hope for an heir of yours."

Aegon grinned. "And they say we're naïve."

She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to it. "So we are... Just not when it comes to matters of the marriage bed.", she smirked.

Aegon bit his lip, but then shook his head with a grin. "Is Jaehaera already in bed?", he asked.

"I want to check on her when this boring play here is over. I don't think she'll be ready for bed by then. You know that if you try to force her into it, she won't sleep at all."

Aegon kissed her forehead. "I can read something to her.", he murmured.

She closed her eyes. Savouring the feel of his lips. "She loves your stories."

He smiled. But his eyes became cloudy again. "Sometimes I wish she could stay like this forever."

"Defiant and smart-aleck?"

That did make him smile. "Safe and uninteresting for the rest of this table... And defiant and smart-aleck... Only she can drive Aemond to despair with a single word."

She giggled. "She just knows that the poison is in the dose. She could drive a maester with a necklace of pure gold to despair, if she asks 'why' often enough."

Aegon smirked.

Later that evening, after their daughter slept ,after being promised an outing with Sunfyre and Aegon in the morning, they lay in their bed, enjoying the silence without any comments on their person.

"Do you think she'll be better?", murmured Aegon into her hair.

She turned her face towards him and nudged his nose with her own. "What do you mean?"

"Jaehaera... Do you think they'll like her more than us? Do you think she... will be better than us?" His eyes were closed, but the small crease between his eyebrows betrayed his sadness.

She put her arms around his body and pulled herself close to him. "I don't know if they'll see how wonderful she is. We can only hope."

"Hmm." he grumbled and snuggled more into his wife's embrace. "Do you think we'll ever do anything right?"

She left the question unanswered for a while. Aegon was beginning to think she'd fallen asleep when she mumbled her answer. "We could try something that no one in this family has ever done before."

"And what would that be?"

"We could just try to be good parents."

Aegon sighed with a grin. "We can try." He kissed her on the forehead, realizing, that their marriage was the best decision they'd both ever made.

[coryosmin]

Extra Credit - Professor Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

summary: Coriolanus Snow is your communications professor at uni and it so happens to be the only class that your grade is dropping in. So you decide to ask your handsome professor what you can do to get extra credit. He gives it to you.

warnings: modern au, age gap (reader is 19, coryo is 25), college setting, nsfw content, mdni, p in v, oral (m receiving), flirting, soft dom coryo, praise kink, degradation kink, etc.

word count: 2,300

enjoy!

Being a university student, it takes a lot to maintain good grades. You’ve always been a good student, taking your time to learn the material, studying frequently, and wanting to maintain high grades. And you’ve achieved that in all of your classes except for one, communications.

It’s not that it’s a hard class. Communications is quite easy when you really get to the fundamentals of it. However, your professor, Professor Snow, was a harsh grader and will nitpick the tiniest of errors. Some may call him passionate about what he does, others may call him ridiculous. You personally think the latter.

Professor Snow was the professor that many of the students fawned over. He was young, some students being the same age as him or similar. He was blond, muscular, and always looked good in a suit. He was stoic and never really smiled for any particular reason. But his personality most certainly put a damper on his beauty.

You sat in your communications class, frowning at the paper you had just gotten back. It was an essay on conflict resolution, something you thought you did really well on as you had studied and researched the topic. However, the grade you received on that paper made you realize otherwise. In red ink was a big old “C-“ with no other information given. No feedback, nothing. And you were quite worried about your grade.

So after Professor Snow had dismissed the class, you stayed behind, nervously biting your lip as you waited for the other students to clear out. There were of course stragglers which made it a bit harder to have the confidence to talk with your professor. Once they had left though, you gathered your things and walked up to Professor Snow, who was erasing the whiteboard. “Sir,” you said hesitantly, getting his attention.

Professor Snow turned his head around to see you before going back to erasing the whiteboard. “Yes, Ms. L/N?” he said in that beautiful voice of his.

You cleared your throat before speaking. “I just wanted to possibly chat about my essay,” you said.

Professor Snow finished erasing the whiteboard placing the eraser down before turning around to face you. He rubbed his hands together. “What about it?” He asked, looking at you with his blue orbs.

“I don’t quite understand how I got a C minus when I met all the requirements that you assigned in the rubric,” You exclaimed, holding your paper in your hand.

Professor Snow motioned for you to hand him the paper so you did. He stood next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours as he showed you what you did wrong. “There are a few grammatical errors,” he said, pointing at a few of the lines. “This line right here isn’t a direct quote so I’m unsure as to why it’s in quotations,” he said.

“Because it’s paraphrased,” You replied.

“Paraphrasing doesn’t need quotes, it needs the citation,” Professor Snow exclaimed, glancing at you before looking back at the paper. “Overall, it’s a bunch of small errors that are silly mistakes which is why you were given the grade you were given.”

You frowned in frustration. Shouldn’t the content of the essay matter more? You sighed. “Is there anything I can do for extra credit?” You asked, looking up at your professor. He was already looking back at you when you had asked, the two of you only a few inches away from one another.

Professor Snow tilted his head slightly, tapping his chin as he thought to himself. After a few moments, he smirked, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “There’s certainly something you can do…” he whispered.

You gulped at the proximity, your heart racing in your chest. “What?” You whispered back.

Professor Snow smirked, pulling away as he moved to close the door of the lecture hall, locking it behind him before walking over to his desk chair and sitting down. “Get on your knees for me,” He said simply as he spread his legs.

Your eyes widened as you realized what Professor Snow meant. You hadn’t taken him to be that kind of professor. “T-that’s breaking many different university rules, Professor Snow. I hardly think-”

“If you want the extra credit so badly, you’d do it,” He shrugged, raising his shoulders as he did so. His expression was amused, as though not expecting you to take up his offer whatsoever. Which made you realize what exactly he was doing. He was challenging you. And you never back down from a challenge.

So you did what he hadn’t expected which is drop your things and walk over to him, kneeling in front of your professor. “I’ll do it,” You replied, looking up at him.

Professor Snow’s eyes widened before he quickly recovered. He cleared his throat, licking his lips. “Get to it then,” he said, his voice thick.

And so you did. You unzipped his red slacks, your eyes fixated on the bulge forming in his pants. “If you want me to stop at any point, sir, please let me know,” You said, pulling his pants down gently.

Professor Snow simply watched, anticipating your touch. He helped you pull his pants down just enough to reveal his black briefs. “Keep going,” he replied.

You brought a hand to his bulge, palming him through his underwear. Professor Snow let out a small groan at the feeling, his cock hardening from a semi to a full erection underneath your touch. You couldn’t help the smirk on your face at the reaction of your professor. It was most certainly hot and sent a wave of arousal down to your core. You licked your lips, moving your hands to the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down enough to reveal is pretty pink cock. Your eyes widened at the length, unable to help the gasp that escaped your lips. “You’re so big,” You said in amazement.

Professor Snow smirked at your reaction. It was true. He was at least eight inches, maybe a little bit more. “Yeah?” He asked, looking down at you.

You blushed, nodding your head. You looked up into Professor Snow’s eyes before looking back at his cock. You leaned in, licking a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue at the top. Professor Snow shuttered at the feeling, a hand moving to your head. You slowly eased him into your mouth, making it about halfway before his cock was hitting the back of your throat. You moved your head back up, swirling your tongue, before moving it back down. Then you got into a rhythm.

Professor Snow moaned, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he relished in the warm feeling of your mouth on his cock. He knew this was definitely forbidden, students cannot sleep with teachers. But he just couldn’t help himself. You had always been his favorite student though he tried not to show that by nitpicking every little thing you turn in. You actually do wonderful work. But he didn’t want to accidentally reveal his favoritism towards you simply because he’s attracted to you. It’s a weakness and Coriolanus Snow was not a weak man. “Such a dirty whore, sucking your professor’s cock for a grade,” He groaned, opening his eyes to take in your beauty.

You moaned around his cock, arousal pooling between your legs. You clenched your thighs at Professor Snow’s words, trying to relieve some tension. You continued moving your head up and down rhythmically, using your hand to jerk off the amount of his cock that you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Getting all worked up from sucking my cock?” He asked, caressing your hair. “Dirty whore.” He moaned. “I’m so close. Are you going to be a good girl and swallow?”

In response, you continued your movements, sucking his cock so well. His cock twitched in your mouth, signaling his release. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure before cumming in your mouth. You swallowed his cum, sucking him through his orgasm. And when Professor Snow finished, you pulled off of his cock, looking up at him with pretty eyes, swollen glistening lips, and messy hair.

“Did I do good, sir?” You asked, giving a small smile.

Professor Snow breathed heavily, giving you a breathless chuckle. You looked so attractive to him. “Yes, you were a good girl,” He replied, causing you to clench your thighs. Professor Snow’s cock twitched in interest again, ready for more. He smirked at you. “Come here, baby.” You obliged, getting up off of your knees and crawling onto Professor Snow’s lap. Your skirt pooling around the both of you. Professor Snow gripped your hips, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

You kissed him back, eyes fluttering shut as you moved your lips in sync. He kissed you deeply and hungrily, as though you were the air he needed to breathe. And you absolutely adored it. Professor Snow’s hands moved underneath your skirt to grab your ass, massaging the flesh through your panties. You moaned softly against his lips, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and explore you.

After a few minutes, he pulled away from the kiss, looking into your beautiful eyes. He moved a hand to your clothed pussy, feeling it through the fabric. “You’re soaked, baby,” He murmured.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding your head. “So wet, Professor Snow,” you murmured back.

Professor Snow smirked. “Call me Coriolanus or Coryo when we’re alone, baby,” He said as he slowly rubbed your clit through your panties.

You let out a soft moan, nodding your head at Coriolanus. “Yes, Coryo.”

“Good girl,” He replied, kissing your lips. “Gonna fuck you, okay?”

You nodded your head in agreement. “Please, sir,” you asked, biting your lip.

Coriolanus gave you a soft smile, still rubbing your clit. “Such good manners,” he said. And then he moved your panties to the side, grabbing his cock and rubbing it between your folds. “Are you on birth control?” A very important question and a good one to ask too. You are a college student after all.

“Yes,” You replied, sighing as you felt the tip of Coryo’s cock rub against your pussy. And without any more hesitation, Coriolanus inserted his cock into you slowly, causing you both to moan. It was a bit painful at first, Coryo being the biggest you’ve ever really had. But it felt oh-so-good. “Wanna ride you,” You whispered, wrapping your arms around Coryo’s neck.

“Go ahead, baby,” Coriolanus replied, grabbing your ass. “You deserve it.”

And so you did. You began to move your hips slowly up and down Coryo’s length, causing the both of you to moan. Coriolanus kissed your lips while you moved your hips. You were so wet and tight around him. You whined at the feeling, grateful to finally being able to relieve the ache you’ve had between your legs for some time now. You pulled away from the kiss, throwing your head back in pleasure as you moved your hips a bit faster. “Oh fuck,” you moaned out.

Coriolanus watched you ride his cock. You were so gorgeous and pretty. Your cheeks were red, your cunt was so tight and warm. Coriolanus couldn’t believe he was finally fucking you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, stopping your movements. You looked at him confused until you felt him bucking his hips, fucking up into you at a harsh pace. You let out a squeal before bringing a hand to cover your mouth, muffling your moans.

“You like that, baby?” Coryo breathed harshly. “Like my cock fucking you so hard?”

You nodded your head, mewling. “So good, Coryo,” You moaned out. “So deep.”

Coriolanus continued fucking up into you, feeling his release approaching rapidly. He reached a hand between the two of you, rubbing circles on your clit, causing you to let out a muffled loud moan against your hand. “Such a good girl, taking my cock so good.” He moaned out. “Gonna cum inside your beautiful pussy. Would you like that, huh? Would you like to be filled with my cum?”

You whined pathetically, nodding your head. “Yes!” You moaned out. “Please cum inside me, Coryo, please.” Your orgasm was approaching quickly, the familiar heat building inside your abdomen. “Am so close. Can I cum? Please let me cum.”

Your words and begging spurred Coryo on. God you were so fucking perfect. “Yes, baby, cum for me. Such a good girl,” He moaned, resting his head against your shoulder as he continued his movements. And soon you both were cumming at the same time, you gushing around his cock as he came inside of you.

And when you both came down from your highs, you breathed heavily, looking down at Coryo. You both were silent for a few minutes until you broke the silence. “So…” You breathed out. “Did I earn my extra credit?”

Coriolanus let out a small laugh, nodding his head against your shoulder. “Yes, baby, you did.”

You grinned at your professor. “And do you do this with all of your students who need extra credit?” You asked.

Coriolanus lifted his head to properly look at you, an amused smile on his face. “Only the special ones. And I only have one of those,” He replied charmingly.

Later in the week, when you went into your Communications class and Professor Snow passed out your previous assignments, your essay from earlier was handed to you. The C Minus was crossed out and replaced with an A+ and a note that read “See me after class.”

It’s safe to say that after that, Professor Snow was your absolute favorite professor.

[hayakawalove]

Remedy

Summary: You've had a really, really hard day today. The second you come home to Suguru, you fall apart. You tell him you need to turn your brain off. It's a good thing he knows how to help you do that.

A/N: So sorry, I wrote this with my pussy. I really think Suguru is so helpful and caring, if you asked him to make you feel better by treating you like shit, who is he to say no? I feel like I may have wrote him a bit differently in this. I think he's still the same as my Suguru, just more mean. However, I do want him to be mean to me. Thoughts? Comments appreciated!

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Thigh Riding, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Humiliation, Sir Kink, Spit Kink, Creampie, Choking, Hair-pulling, Dom/sub, Dacryphilia, Aftercare, Cock Drunk, He's Pretty Mean In This Just So You're Aware, Uses Other Names Than Slut And Stuff, He Might Call You A Bitch At One Point, Name-Calling, Subspace, Bullying, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 4,301

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Today was hard. 

There wasn’t any other way to put it. 

It was a terrible, no good, rotten day. 

To start off, your alarm woke you up late. Not just late, but extremely late. Suguru had to fix your bed head for you as you were walking out the door, if he didn’t you wouldn’t have noticed it. Just like you didn’t notice the little bit of toothpaste left on your lips. 

The project you had been working on for weeks at work had been a bust, you couldn’t help but cry at all those hours being lost down the drain. 

You missed the train you usually took home, making you late again. 

And to top it all off, you forgot your wallet at home. The only way you afforded the train was because some kind old woman paid for your ride. 

Yeah. It was a bad time. 

After hours of dealing with bullshit, you finally arrive home. You sniffle as you trudge up the walkway to your door, eyes welled up with tears due to your previous frustrations. 

Home. You were finally, finally home. 

You unlock the door and nudge it open, the warm light of your apartment bathing you in instant bliss. With a sigh, you gently shut the door behind you as you drop all your belongings on your way in. Your feet are unbearably heavy as you drag them further into the apartment. Suguru was home. You could tell by the lighting along with the faint scent of dinner. When you round the corner you see your living room, Suguru sat on the couch with a bored expression on his face. He’s watching some movie, you can't tell what it is, but it’s muted and he looks less than disinterested. 

Chestnut eyes flick over to you and a smile filled with warmth sparks on his face. 

“Welcome home baby, how was your day?” 

Your bottom lip trembles and you let out a noise similar to a whine before closing the gap, scooting next to him on the couch. 

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” He questions, pivoting his body to provide you with just a little more warmth. 

“I had- today was such-“ you bite your lip and burrow your face into his side, begging your body not to fall apart. 

He raises an arm to smooth down your back, gentle in his approach, always gentle, quiet as he listens to you. You’re murmuring the details of your day and you know he can't understand you, but he pretends he does, and that’s all that matters. 

When you finish crying to him you look up, and you’re instantly met with his face. Concern washes over his features, but you can see his shoulders sag with relief at the mere sight of your eyes. 

“You made it through the day, I’m so proud of you.” He places a kiss on your forehead.

“Barely.” You mutter and look away, your fists still curled up in his shirt. 

Suguru’s lip quirks up a bit before he trains it down. He always did favor those who put on dramatics. He leans down and presses his lips against yours, and you turn to putty in his presence. 

“Can I get you something to eat? I made dinner.” 

“No, I’m not hungry.” 

Suguru hums and leans back, peering down at you. 

“What can I do for you?” 

“I just, I just wanna turn my brain off for a bit.” 

Suguru looks like he’s calculating something as he analyzes your face. You know what you meant by your words, and you think he does too. 

“Yeah? You wanna stop thinking for a bit?” 

You dig your teeth in your lip and look up at him, desire pooling in your gut. He knows exactly what you need. 

Suguru’s always been good at that.

He pulls back and looks down at your form on the couch. There’s love in his eyes as he gazes at you, and love in his fingertips as he reaches out to swipe your bottom lip. 

Suguru leans back in and kisses you, much rougher this time around, and reaches up to grab at your neck. He applies pressure, not too hard, but you can feel your mind begin to sway. 

His lips are on yours, stealing the breath from your lungs as he begins to squeeze tighter. The blood is reaching your brain at a much slower pace, and you aren’t sure you’ve ever felt this good before. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” He murmurs as he pulls away, his grip loosening ever so slightly. 

There’s lightning on your skin as you watch him with hazy eyes. Suguru is entrancing. Beauty and confidence leak from his pores as if he had an abundance of them, which he did.

Suguru removes his hand from your throat and instead reaches up to your face. He squeezes your cheeks together, pursing your lips. His hands, normally known for being loving and gentle, are rough as they handle you. 

He’s just getting started. 

“Open your mouth.” He speaks lowly. 

Your tongue slithers from your lips, and your hands hang from his forearms, a tight grip holding on like a lifeline. 

Suguru gathers spit from his tongue and he hovers over you, dropping it into your awaiting mouth. Your heart starts to race once it lands on your tastebuds. 

“You just need someone to take care of you, is that right?” Your eyes roll back in your head as he continues to goad you. “Need someone to do all the thinking for you?” 

You groan, your grip tightening against his forearms. Yes. Yes. You need that. 

“Hey.” His fingers squeeze your face harder. 

You whimper and your gaze flies back to him. He looks at you with an expectant eye. You know what he’s waiting for. 

“Yes sir.” Your words are muddled as you attempt to speak around your misshapen mouth. 

“There you go.” 

He finally lets go of your face and you’re already missing his touch. Suguru stands and picks you up with ease, holding you close to his chest as he walks the both of you to your bedroom. He was being so gentle, and you’re sure that was because he was going to be the furthest thing from that later. 

Once you arrive at your bedroom, Suguru sets you down on the floor and he spins around to sit on the end of the bed. You’re waiting for an order, your feet awkwardly sliding back and forth. 

“On the floor.” 

You fall to your knees before you can even think to abide by his demand. The floor is hard underneath you, but you welcome the sensation as you crawl up closer to Suguru. His face is stern as he looks down at you, waiting for you to situate yourself. 

He unbuckles his pants and slides them down, letting his cock pop free. Already hard. You watch as he squeezes the base of his length, wishing it was your hand instead. 

“Come closer.” He says. 

You inch closer, your mouth hovering right next to his cock. It’s a centimeter away. You reach your tongue out and swipe along his cock, moaning at the taste. It doesn’t last long as Suguru grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you back. 

“Did I say you could taste it?”

“No sir.” You mumble, knowing you fucked up. 

“Then why did you?” 

“I just thought-“ 

“No, you’re not doing any thinking, remember?”

Suguru looks hard at you and you feel like you’ve dropped twenty feet. You murmur a ‘yes sir’ and remain still until he’s removed his hand from your hair. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders as your body relaxes. He was going to make all the decisions. You didn’t need to do anything. 

Suguru finally leans back and lets his legs fall open a bit more to make space for you. 

Where you belong. 

“Use your mouth. Not all the way, though.” 

Your lips twitch in a grin as excitement flows through your veins. You scoot forward and open your mouth wide, letting your tongue hang out as you slide it against his cock once more. 

His tender flesh is like velvet against your tongue as you slather it on him. You drag the tip of your tongue up to the head of his cock where you lap up the droplets of precum he’s gifted you with. Suguru watches silently, taking note of how eager you look. 

It’s almost painful not to open your mouth completely to envelope him in your lips, but you want to be a good girl so you don’t. 

His cock is shiny from your spit, his tip bright red in need. You wonder how he’s able to show such restraint. If you were in his position now, you would be begging for it. 

“Take more.” 

He barely gets the words out before you’re swallowing the head of his cock, lowering your lips until you reach the bottom. A gag releases from your throat but you pay it no mind, too intent on making him happy. Suguru shows no reaction, features devoid of any signs that he’s enjoying it. He wants you to work harder. 

You slowly drag your head up, letting your tongue work the side of his cock as you do so. His skin is smooth beneath you, the taste of his precum dripping onto your tongue. He’s leaning on his hands, hair spilling over his shoulders as he watches you deepthroat him. There’s a spark of pride in his eyes as he watches you take all of him. 

“Just like that,” he murmurs under his breath, sliding his hand through his long locks. 

Anyone would be able to see how badly you wanted him. You shuffle your legs below you as heat rushes to your cheeks. His praise always did that to you. 

He prefers you take it slow. Suguru is a patient man who enjoys taking his time. So that’s exactly what you do. Your head glides over him slowly, slow enough that you can indulge yourself in all of the details. 

You must be getting to him, because you can hear Suguru let out shaky breaths. The sound is something like a symphony to you, urging you to continue. 

It’s sort of hard to breathe, but you push on. There’s spit leaking from the sides of your lips, sliding down Suguru’s cock. 

“Enough, baby.” 

You ease your mouth off him, much to your dismay, and you look up at him with wide eyes. His lids are heavy as he looks down at you. There’s desire in his gaze. You know it, because you feel it too. 

Suguru holds a hand out to help you in standing up. Your knees are a bit wobbly from sitting on them for so long. You hold onto Suguru’s forearms to steady yourself and his eyes flick up to you, a small grin on his face. It’s a short moment, a break in character that shows you he cares. 

Suguru’s hands slide down your body and he begins to pull your pants off. He does so with practiced ease, the kind that could only happen with years of experience in providing for you.

You let him peel off your shirt as well, slowly removing every item of clothing from your person. You’re completely bare before him, but you feel no insecurity about how you appear. 

“Sit on my thigh.”

The request stops you in your tracks. He wants you to sit on him while you’re bare? He must see the panic in your eyes, because he slithers his hand around your waist to draw you in closer. 

You nibble on your lip as you slide on top of his thigh, settling each of your legs on either side of him. The muscles in his leg press against your dripping pussy, providing just a hint of comfort. 

“Are you sure? I'm gonna make a-“ 

“A mess? Don’t.” 

It’s a warning, his voice stern as he speaks. 

Suguru holds your waist firm, his nose grazing the side of your neck. You want to start moving, and he must know it. 

“You looked so pathetic down there baby, did you know that?” 

You whimper and fist his shirt, embarrassment washing over you. 

“Poor needy little thing. Allow me to help you.” 

He starts off slow, pushing your hips back and forth. It causes your core to grind against his thigh, the filth between your legs smearing down his leg. You let out a groan and toss your head back, letting him control your body. It feels good to let go. 

“That's it, my pretty little slut.” His voice is dark as it caresses your ears, beckoning for you to fall deeper into his trap. 

Your hips start to jerk against him, the need for more crawling up the back of your neck. Pleasure zaps your skin, making moans flow freely from your lips. Your clit is puffy as it presses down against him, causing you to fall helpless into your lust. 

Suguru attempts to slow you down, the harsh grip of his fingers reminding you of your place. You’re only allowed what he gives you. 

“Please, please.” You mutter. 

“Oh, you really are a slut huh? Begging for more already?” 

Your eyes dart away, his words aiding in the warm feeling growing throughout you. You’re on the verge of crying, a combination of his actions and words. He wants you to cry. You want to cry. 

“You’re soaking my thigh. You just can't help it, can you?” He coos. 

You shake your head and sniffle, looking down at him. He has a wicked grin below you, it makes your head spin. Suguru shifts you up slightly as he angles your clit directly against his thigh. You could scream at how good it feels. Suguru grinds you against his thigh once more, eyes tracking your face. Not once does he look down. 

“No, no I can’t sir.” 

“I know, sweetheart. You can’t help being so pathetic, right?” 

A single tear drops from your eye as he degrades you. The words cause your eyes to roll back as you rub your clit against him. 

“So embarrassing you’re using a leg to get off. Can’t even wait for anything else. Bet if I removed you right now you’d start crying.” 

He’s right. God, he’s right. As much as you want his mouth, his fingers, his cock, you can’t imagine stopping now. Not when it feels this good. 

You think he’s moaning along with you, but it’s hard to tell. Your head is full of mush as you use his body to get off. His skin is sticky below you, thigh covered in you. You’re groaning, gliding your pussy harder on him.

You’re getting close, so close. 

“S-Suguru I’m gonna, can I,” you whine. 

Suguru isn't helping at all anymore, instead letting his hands fall lazily against your hips as you work yourself on him. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum just from that?” He says incredulously. 

You bury your face in his neck as your hip jerks. You can feel how close you are, the promise of release touching your finger tips. 

“Yes, yes!” 

“Cum for me sweetheart.” 

You glide back several more times before it washes over you. You moan into Suguru’s neck, and you can hear him chuckle darkly as you finish. It’s embarrassing, but you love it. 

You breathe out deeply as your hips jerk against him. You feel worn out already, and you haven’t even done much. Suguru slides his hand down your back and pulls you away so he can watch your expression. You’re panting as you try to look back at him, but your eyes are out of focus. 

Suguru waits until you’ve come back to earth before he nudges you back. There’s a large spot on his thigh that’s glistening, your cum painting his bright skin. 

“You did make a mess, huh?” 

“I-I’m sorry,” 

He nudges you off until you’re sitting in front of him once more. You watch with curious eyes as he pushes his leg in front of your face, centimeters from you. 

“Why don’t you clean it off?”

It’s posed as a question, but you know damn well it’s not. You stick your tongue out and nervously drag it against his skin. The cum is salty on your tastebuds, and you have to hold back a moan as you lick it up. 

“Fucking filthy.” He spits the words like they’re acid on his tongue.

Your pussy begins to pulse again, your eyes closing as you listen to him. He watches you with hardened eyes as you flick your tongue against him. There’s a bit more cum than you were expecting. Damn, you really did make a mess. 

Once you’re done cleaning up his leg, although you really just made it more dirty, your saliva coating his hairy thigh, he yanks you up. Your breathing stutters as he pushes you on the bed, his tall figure crawling over you. Something akin to fear curls in your stomach. Suguru is the kindest man you know, but he’s a completely different person when he’s using you like an object. 

“Keep your legs open.” He whispers down to you. 

You whimper and wrap your hands around your thighs, pulling them apart to present yourself to him. Your pussy is sticky with cum, glistening beneath Suguru. He’s sturdy above you, leaning forward as he guides his cock into you. The stretch hurts a bit at first, but it’s a pain you are well accustomed to. 

“Pussy’s so fucking needy.” He speaks to himself, tone dark as he watches his body sink further into your core. 

You’re letting out quiet moans as you close your eyes. Suguru’s slow as he pushes himself further into you, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. When he’s buried himself fully in you, he pauses for a moment. Waits to listen for your ragged breathing as you rhythmically clench his cock. 

You’re seconds away from begging him to move. Your legs are burning from being kept into position, but you would never dream of defying his orders. You’re tempted to begin rocking your hips, but you tell yourself to have faith. 

Suguru pulls back slowly, watching as your cum paints his cock. He stops once his tip is the only thing left inside as he admires the sight. He waits and then slams his hips forward, driving his cock deep into you. You groan at the feeling, eyes flying open as he starts to pound into you. 

You’re moaning below him, legs bouncing as you try to keep yourself open for him. His cock presses against your gspot every time he thrusts inside you, almost taking your breath away. 

“See how much better it feels when you let me have control?” He panders to you. 

You can hear his words, but you can’t form a response. His cock feels punishing as he pushes into you hard. Your skin feels too hot for your body, and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the physical strain or because of Suguru’s eyes. He’s looking at you, picking out all of the reactions you make based on how hard he’s fucking you. He’s memorized them all by now, but he still looks for them nonetheless. 

Suguru shifts his hand between your bodies, placing his fingers on your clit. It’s hard beneath his fingers, trembling under the pressure. Suguru starts to rub slow circles around it, indulging himself in the noises you let out. 

“My my, look at that. What a good whore.” 

You think he must be teasing you. You don’t need to see yourself to know you look like a mess. Your eyes roll back and you yank your legs up to give him more access. 

“Say it for me. Tell me you’re my good little whore.” 

“I’m-I’m you’re good little whore!” 

“That's right. Shit, you’d probably do anything I’d tell you to.” He groans.

“Y-yes, yes sir!” 

He’s talking down to you, the coldness in his voice making your heart race. The world is spinning around you, and at the center of it is Suguru. 

Suguru’s moving faster now, partially because he’s losing himself to the feeling. He gets off on making you happy, feels his heart burst when he can make you feel better. It’s a bonus that treating you this way does that for you. He likes to watch you crumble beneath him. 

His fingers glide against your clit, pressing down as he twirls around it. It feels like a wet spot is forming under you, the result of the pleasure Suguru was giving you drooling down your slit. 

You’re inching closer once more, every fiber of your being burning up as Suguru fucks you. 

“Feels so good sir, so good, you’re gonna make me cum!” 

Suguru slows his hips down at that, an eyebrow raised as he watches you whine. Your hips are circling around, trying to feel any form of pressure. 

“Oh honey,” he coos. 

He likes torturing you, you think. There’s an evil grin on his face as he watches you writhe about beneath him. Poor thing. You’re a prisoner to pleasure, mind numb from need. 

“Gotta cum!” You chant below him. 

Suguru starts back up, thrusting his cock into you once more. He’s still looking at you with that damn expression. One that shows his dominance, a look that makes your heart race. 

“That’s all you need? To cum?”

“Yes sir! Yes, yes!”

Suguru ignores your request.

“Fuck, you just need someone else to do all the thinking for you so you can be a brainless little slut. Only used for cock,” he moans. “Is that all you’re good for?”

“Yes, yes!” You’re sobbing now, tears streaming down your face. 

It feels so fucking good. It must be a crime to feel this good. 

He’s still rubbing your clit with precision, and you’re almost there. You moan as he fucks himself into you, cock enveloped by your warm tight walls. He holds you down as he plunges into you, watching you cry from his cock. 

Suguru uses his other hand to hold your throat, his fingers lacing around the delicate arteries in your neck. He applies pressure, much harder than before as he abuses you. The pain is just what you need to toss yourself over the edge, your pussy clenching in perfect rhythm, squeezing his cock as he fucks you.

“Fucking s-shit. That’s it, cum on my cock, dirty bitch,” He whines instantly, body trembling as you keep a death grip on him. 

Suguru guides you through it as you cum, face leaning down besides yours as he goes. He keeps a hand on your throat until you’re finished, only removing it once you stop twisting beneath him. 

Suguru shoves into you again, before he feels himself burst. He moans into your neck as he cums, hips jerking as he rides out his high. You let go of your legs and throw your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Suguru’s thrusts slow until he’s completely still, lungs putting in the extra work as he breathes deeply. 

You think there’s static in your ears because you can’t hear anything. Not a single sound. There’s only warmth, and it’s in the form of Suguru’s love, steadily leaking out of you. 

He takes a deep breath and pushes himself up, gaze flicking down to your face. You look fucked out in every sense of the word. Your eyes are lazy, dragging around as you look, occasionally twitching. 

“Hey, hey.” Suguru murmurs. 

He pushes one of his hands against your forehead and smoothes your hair back. His shoulders relax once you react. You must feel something. Your eyelids close and a small smile grows on your lips. 

Suguru is an indulgent man. He hangs his head to gently kiss you, you aren’t aware of it but he could be pressed up against your lips forever. Your eyes slowly open, lashes fluttering as you float down, down, down back to earth. 

“There’s my beautiful girl.” Suguru says. 

His kind words are just what you need, immediately smoothing the deep cuts he made verbally. He pets your body, careful in his approach. Suguru slides from your warm walls, feeling bad the second you wince. 

“I know, I know, I can’t stay there forever though.” 

You don’t talk as he speaks, instead choosing to whimper. 

“Hey, I’m right here princess. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Suguru lays beside you and hoists you next to him. You don’t think you’ve ever been this comfortable in your whole life. The bed below you feels like a field of grass, soft against your skin, and Suguru is the warm air that caresses your body. 

“You’re okay.” He says, his hand sliding down your arm. 

He’s right. You know he’s right. What he’s saying feels right. 

He may have treated you like an object, but he did so out of love. He does everything for you out of love. Earlier, your mind was too full. You needed a break. And he gave you that. Now, your mind is much lighter. 

“You did so well. You’re perfect, perfect. I promise I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that?” 

You mumble an agreement, nuzzling your face into his chest. You might not feel up to talking, but you’re appreciative of his efforts to care for you. 

“I love you.” The sincerity of his words cause your body to melt against him. 

“I love you.” You reply, words jumbled and hard to discern. 

You felt so good. But you were also so fucking tired. 

“Get some rest baby.” His hand strokes your arm. 

You smile against his side, letting yourself fall into a deep slumber. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @sakui1, @reiluvr, @gothicwhore666, @bunviixo

If you want to be added to my tag list just let me know, please specify what you wanted to be added for

[delusionalmultilingual]

Title cover by me, please ask for permission to use. Not the panel but the editing :)

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Todoroki's sick?

This is just a drabble for the moment but if I post this hooray you get to see what sort of lovesick lonely relationship I want.

ITS A COMPLETE SLOWBURN PLEASE DONT HATE ME

Contains: Vomit, Illness, Spoilers.

Todoroki gets sick? Thank god your there to help him you pitiful bastard.

Your in your last year of U.A, just after your exams he gets sick. Where did Shouto go?

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"Todoroki Shouto." The same monotone voice came from your tired teacher, had his eyebags dropped even more? His eyes had surely gotten more red. He looks stoned, you wish you could be too.

Zoning out for a second too long you feel a glare from your teacher who had probably said your name mote than three times by now, flicking his scarf to slide right past your ear, a whooshing sound which jolted you out of your zoned out state.

It was the same silence, the same silence that had gone on for the past three days. Time doesn't normally matter to you, the world moves either to quick or too slow so you do your own thing.

"Focus or I'll make you run laps."

You flinch and look directly at your teacher who had moved towards your desk, black eyes slowly emitting the gloomy red that scared you sometimes. Sitting up straighter then you had ever sat you gave him a small smile before nodding a small apology. Thank god he was tired or he might have probably killed you by now.

"Ah, [Your Name]. Is there something bothering you?" Uraraka asked beside you quietly as you all began writing. To which you turned to see her eyes locked with yours.

You respond with a quick 'hm' shaking your head trying not to worry your friend, shifting your focus back to your writing as you tried not to think about specific things.

'I wonder where Todoroki is...'

'Is he with his dad? Maybe his mum...'

You shake your head and pinch your arm to refocus feeling a hint of heat on the tips of your ears. Your eyes staring intensely at the word 'mixture'.

'Fuck, that's also like him.'

Rubbing your temples now, and running a hand behind the back of your neck and pressing down on the sore spot that had grown increasingly through the pressure of homework and assignments, Hero work too.

A low muttering came from Midoryia, he was back to his usual ways even while Mr Aizawa spoke in his colourless voice. And Ashido and Kaminari were whispering to each other trying to get some form of idea as to what to write.

If you were completely honest you didn't know what to write either, the work was something about Physical and Quirk development, which was a pain when you had learned majority of it in middle school.

Yet you didn't know what to write, even if you knew about what you were learning, you still didn't know what to write. Maybe it was the three assignments that you turned in earlier today, maybe you were just burnt out.

Aizawa's words were now muffled through your thoughts as you doodled over your pages of lined, neat work. They weren't the best but they were cute enough to stay in your book.

"But sir this is too difficult!" Mina and Denki whined in unison, snapping you out of your stage of drawing and listening into the bickering, Bakugou yelling at them from across the room.

"Shuddap. If you werent so stupid maybe you would understand!"

Aizawa sighed yet again, sleep deprived probably, maybe an insomniac. "Bakugou, get back to your own work."

After a miniature altercation between Aizawa and Bakugou, it ended with Bakugou going quiet and grumbling as he continued working and Aizawa scolding Mina and Denki.

Uraraka was giggling beside you, covering her smirk and lowering her head further than what it usually is and trying to compose herself. Her brown hair was definitely longer than what it was in your first year, down to her shoulders now.

She complained that it was getting too long and that she needed to cut it but she didn't have the money, so when Momo offered to pay she declined and said that her hair was fine the way it was.

Even if she was your friend she's a little too anxious about money, even if it was ten dollars. You knew it was because of her background but she's going to be paid a shit ton in the future, if she continued with her path of being a pro.

You ponder on the small parts that you were thinking of before. 'Three days.', was the main thought as you were distracted yet again, which ended with the sake old lecture about listening and paying attention by Aizawa.

***

"[Your Name!" Tsuyu and Mina ran after you, the entire of U.A walking the same paths as the rest of the years. It was your last year, last year of all of this. It sparks an anxious pain in your chest but at the same time motivation.

You turn to face your two friends and Mina practically jumps into your arms and nearly takes the both of you to the floor. And now your winded as Tsu drags Mina off you.

"Are you going to come to dinner tonight?" Tsu asks, her croaky voice comes from her, shorter than Mina and you but thankfully taller than that purple balled idiot. He hurt your neck often when he gave you creepy smiles and all his perverted stuff.

A shrug comes from your shoulders which ends with a pampering Mina begging you not to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of winter holidays. A short answer came from your lips and Tsu's tongue was sticking out as she smiled warmly.

"Probably not, I gotta get this resume in."

Tsu nodded and pulled at Mina's shirt and trying to usher her away as to not hold you back any longer. She might not have spoke many words but she's very expressive through her emotions.

Eventually she was picked off bit by bit, and the dormitory was around a minute away walking. You were tired, but now having to write up a resume that you were planning on doing a week earlier, didn't happen. The procrastination got to you before you even started.

So you began walking, thinking about how to start on your resume even though it was simple, obviously you had to start with your full name, address... 'Would it be the dorm number or just U.A?' The thought ran through your mind before getting thrown into the many other thoughts.

You gave a small wave to Sato who was watering some of the flowers that the class planted earlier this year. He waved back only a few seconds after you, and by then you were already at the steep of the stairs. Pushing the doors open to the smell of Bakugou's food.

Ignoring the smell you looked at the elevator before taking the stairs, you were only on the first floor anyway. It was a flight of stairs, the least you could do is not be lazy.

When you unlocked your door, the small 'rodent' so you claim it to be meowed and purred against your leg.

"Hey Asana, what'cha doing pretty?" You ran a hand along the curled soft hair of your cat, you weren't really supposed to have pets in the dorms but they didn't have to know about him.

Sure, Asana was a male cat with a girl's name, but he didn't know that. He can't understand English, sometimes that makes you suspicious of him. So you shut the door behind you, picking him up and smooching his head three times before he places a paw to your nose.

"You stink."

Asana responded with a long meow, of course. He wanted food, you place him on the ground and sort him out. Flopping onto your bed with a groan of relief when the softness of the cushion collides with your back.

In less than a second, the little rodent you loved so much had jumped on you and was making biscuits on your chest, putting all his weight on his front paws, making you wheeze in pain, how could a cat be so heavy?

He purred loudly and soon after fell asleep on you, which left you scrolling on your phone and typing up this resume that you definitely needed to do before you left school. And of course it would probably take three seconds to finish, but you had sooooo many other things to do. One of them was steal Bakugou's recipe cause damn his cooking is amazing, he would mind so you would have to do it in secret.

Did he even have a recipe to follow? It would surprise you if you didn't, maybe Sato could help. Bakugou never seemed to mind him helping with cooking, he'd prefer him cleaning or doing something else. But only a grumble would be his response.

Thinking over your plan you knew it wouldn't help, you were already on social media and Mina had posted a class photo, Sato was there as well. Damn, he probably ran so he wasn't late.

It was already dark, maybe you could order in. You didn't have much energy to cook anyway, Bakugou definitely wouldn't waste his precious time cooking for you anyway, you were 'a pain in the ass'.

'Ah, I forgot about Todoroki.'

The thought that crossed through your mind from earlier today had reached you again, Midoryia said that he wasn't out with family. Iida said that he had probably become ill, with his continuous efforts at school.

"Asana, should I message him?" You ask your cat, he wasn't going to respond. Either a meow or his ears twitching would be the response.

He was dead asleep. On your chest, curled ears twitching when you sighed deeply and looked at the name on your screen, 'Shouto'. He had a small emoji next to his name, thanks to your creativity of putting what their quirks were as emoji's.

After a long groan and thinking you fumble around messaging him quickly.

'Hey Todoroki, I was wondering how you are doing since you haven't been at school.'

Sent.

Fuck.

Squeezing Asana'a pretty white fur he responded back with a low purr. Three minutes go by, feels like forever and the embarrassment of messaging someone you don't usually message. Ah, this is shit.

Your phone lights up, the notification carxges your eye.

Shouto 🧊🔥

'I'm unwell.'

Dry text. As usual, it didn't bother you as much as it used to, he's gotten better since first year.

'Would you like me to get you something?'

You message back immediately, the heat rushing to your face.

Shouto🧊🔥

'Porridge and Orange juice?'

Was all he replied before you sat up, Asana jumping off and getting comfy on your bed, maybe you should change. Sweats and a singlet? Yep.

Grey pants and a black singlet was what you wore, bringing up a hot bowl of porridge and a carton of Orange juice that was in the fridge, wasn't yours but you'll buy another one for whoever complains.

He was on the fifth floor, wasn't a preference, you would complain if you had to go up five floors.

You reach his room that was labelled with his name, Todoroki. And you knock on the door, it was dead quiet. Usually you would be able to hear Jiro playing her instruments but she was gone as well.

The door clicks open and you see Todoroki, taller than you. His hair a mess and both of his hair colours mixing with eachother, he has showered. But he looks like a mess.

"Can I come in?"

You ask quietly and he covers his cough with his elbow, nodding and turning around so you can go inside his dorm. Very traditional, you saw it a few times while studying with Sero. He cleans regularly, but it's gotten messy since he's been sick.

There was a bucket next to his bed, has he been really sick? Maybe Gastro.

"Sit back down I don't wanna make you run around or something." You usher him back to his futon, you have the kindest expression on and aren't trying to push him around too much.

The room has a hint of sickness in it too, maybe you would get sick too. Oh well.

He sits down with his legs crossed and looks up at you, his face puffy and his hair still a mess, he looks like his gaze is a blur and you gently give him the porridge.

"Have you been eating?"

This is awkward, first you had to message him and now your stuck in his room, with him when he is sick. Your eyes wander and he eats the porridge slowly, blowing on the spoon a few times and switching off his phone. He nods to your question, responding back in a sick and croaked speech.

"Mhm, not much."

Your breath tightened, his voice was usually deepish and monotone but when he's sick. Jesus, gonna take the life outta you.

In less than a second that all changes when he leaps towards the plastic bucket beside his futon and gags profusely, throwing up the porridge he had eaten mere seconds earlier, his stomach trying to throw up on an empty stomach now.

You quickly make your way towards him and kneel down beside him, he puts a hand out to stop you but you move his hair out of the way. It had gotten longer throughout the years but your pretty sure he's been missing his hair appointments.

"Come on Todoroki! Why didn't you let us know." Grumbling beside his ear, he wipes his mouth before sitting back up again, washing his mouth out with the cup of water beside the bucket and spitting it into the bucket.

He goes to stand up, but you keep him sat down, giving him the carton of orange juice that you had brought earlier, were you holding that while keeping his hair out of the way?

"What are you doing?" He asks in the same groggy probably drugged up voice while watching you pick up the vomit filled bucket and taking it to the toilet in his room.

You look back at him, pushing the toilet seat up and pouring the foul substance into the toilet. Flushing it before closing the lid. "You need to rest. Your not getting up unless I'm gone."

Strong tone and using the shower head in the bathroom to rinse the bucket, you turn your head to see if he agrees.

"It's only a stomach bug."

"A stomach bug that makes you look like your about to die."

"Every illness makes you look like that."

"Your not getting up unless you need to go to the toilet. Your quirk is going to drain your energy so don't use that either."

He sighs, not wanting to argue and knowing you were kind of right, he hated to admit it but he actually liked that you cared for him like that. He had gotten used to looking out for himself but when his friends and classmates helped him he realised he also had to look out for others.

"Fine."

He couldn't help it however. He wasn't that sick, right?

You sit down beside him on his futon and look at the half eaten bowl of porridge, he was drinking the juice in hand and staring at you with those oh so beautiful eyes. But it's when he leans over and rests his head on your shoulder that makes you freeze.

"Thanks."

Was all he spoke before closing his eyes and breathing in your scent, you were confused as to why he had done so. Maybe he liked you? Is he clingy when he's sick?

You chuckle and pat his back, he was already relaxed into you but your physical touch made him melt, his body weight becoming evident on your body. So you use majority of your strength to keep sitting up, while adjusting to his weight.

His eyes were closed against you and his breathing became quieter and quieter until you almost could mistake him for being dead. It was soon you realised you were both breathing at the same pace. Did that always happen when two were so close?

Spotting a damp rag on the floor, you pick it up to feel if it is still cold, it wasn't. You couldn't move yet because he was practically attached to you. Jolting when you moved even an inch, so now you were laying down beside him on the single futon. His head against your arm and his arm along your waist.

This wasn't like him, for sure. Was he mistaking you for someone else? Your hoping he's not, cause whoever he would be thinking about like this. Wasn't you.

"It's cold." He speaks quietly, it's only then that you realise the chill in the air. It was already night? But the sun was up, you checked your phone that was sat in your pocket. Your eyes widen at the time. Two hours?!

Two hours had gone by and you could have finished this resume. You couldn't have wished for anything better, or worse? Todoroki Shouto was asleep on you, but you needed to finish this resume.

"Todoroki-"

"Shouto."

"Uh- Alright then. Shouto, I have to get this resume done."

He grumbled and geld onto you tighter, looking up at you, oh lord, he was adorable. Looking up at you with his opposite coloured eyes and pouting ever so slightly.

"Just do it in here."

"Ok then."

Why would you want to argue with him like that? You felt a sense of pity because he was sick, but also because he actually wanted you to stay with him? Your living a dream that you so desperately don't want to end. Maybe if he was well this would send you head over heels.

***

"Hey Todoroki! Where's [Your Name]?" Mina asks with her usual bubbly attitude, staring up at the taller boy with her 'raccoon eyes' as others have said.

Todoroki looks up from the book he was writing in, locking eyes with Mina, Asui was standing next to her with her frog-like tongue sticking out as he responded, scratching the side of his neck.

"She's not feeling well."

"What?!" Mina exclaims, her hands coming to the top of her pink curls quickly as she looked shocked. "She didn't even go anywhere! How did she get sick?"

"She came to visit me when I was sick." He replied back in a monotone speech and got back to writing whatever was on the board. Not knowing how excited Mina looked when she turned to Asui and giggled running off.

'Did I say something wrong?'

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–——–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

This story is officially FINSIHED! I know I definitely lost some sort of motivation towards the end, I hate slowburns but I do say so myself. This is alright.

Proofread!

Thank you for all the support I have been getting! d=(^o^)=b

[rafedaddy01]

Summary: your parent’s go out of town and decide to come back early, what they find leaves them shocked..

Warnings: name calling

-

Your parents have been gone on a work trip for almost a week now. They are supposed to come back tomorrow night. You’ve been hooking up with your dad’s best friend, Rafe Cameron.

Rafe Cameron was a highly respected man in Outer Banks. He came from money and he’s been in business with your dad for quite sometime now.

The two of you started your affair after you started working at your dad’s company as an intern. It was slight flirting and casual side eyes at first. But then you’d end up working late and so would he, which resulted in him fucking you against his desk.

Rafe was twice your age, but that didn’t matter to you. You’ve always had a crush on him. Whenever he’d come over for dinner and bring some slut with him you’d feel a fire burning inside you, you wanted to be the one sitting next to him.

Now you’ve got what you wanted, even if it was in secret. At least you got to fuck him every night.

It was 9:00pm when rafe got a text from you informing him that you had the house all to yourself. It didn’t take long for Rafe to be knocking on your door. His jaw went slack and his dick throbbed in his pants as you opened the door wearing nothing but a satin black robe that ended just mid thigh, your cleavage exposed and hair flowing beautifully down your back.

“That was quick” you smiled as you invited him in.

“I hope you didn’t start without me” Rafe smirked as he walked into your house and discarded of his suite jacket, laying it on the backside of the couch before taking his loafers off and coming over to you.

You sighed as he wrapped his big arms around your waist and pulled you closer. “I tried, couldn’t get myself to cum. Why do you think your here”

Rafes grin spread at your snarky comment. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

It quickly escalated as he pushed your back against the front door and kissed down your neck, leaving slight marks. “We-we should probably go upstairs” you panted as Rafes hands began to roam up your naked thighs.

“We should” he whispered into your ear as he pecked kisses on your neck making you melt even more.

He pulled back and admired your blushed cheeks and slightly messy hair, “after you” he extended his hand towards the stairs and you pushed yourself off the door and started walking towards the stairs.

Rafe was right behind you, loving the way your ass jiggled as you moved.

But just before you could step on the first stair the front door opened.

Your head turned to come face to face with your father, your mother not too far behind.

Your heart rate picked up, you looked at rafe and he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. He stood still, looking your father in the eyes.

“Y/n?” Your mother spoke up, “w-what is this?” She scrunched her eyebrows as she looked at your attire, noticing the messy hair and slight marks up your neck.

“Daddy, I can’t explain” you pushed past rafe and walked up to your father.

Your dad dropped his luggage onto the ground and strides towards rafe, not even batting an eye for you.

“Daddy, please!” You felt tears start to form as your dad’s anger and betrayal got the best of him.

He landed a punch across Rafes face. You knew Rafe was aggressive. You’ve heard and seen first hand what a hot head he is. You know that he could kill your father. But when you looked at him he looked defeated. He knew he messed up. Sleeping with his best friends daughter whose more than half his age was wrong, but he didn’t feel that it was wrong. He was starting to catch real feelings for you, he’s never felt like this about anyone. You weren’t just another slut he’d bring to dinner. He was falling for you, and he hoped that your father would understand.

“Sir, I- I love her sir”

“Daddy, don’t. I love him”

You and rafe both spoke up at the same time.

Your father turned to look at you and the look in his eyes told you everything. He was disgusted, betrayed, hurt, angry.

“Get out.” He spoke to you sternly. “Both of you! Get out.”

“You little whore! Fucking my best friend who’s twice your age. You don’t love him! Your just a little slut-“ you gasped as Rafes fist smacked into your dads jaw.

“She’s not a whore!” Rafe screamed at your father as he watched his body hit the ground. “She’s your daughter, and I love her”

The tears were streaming down your face as you looked at your mother and saw the same look in her eyes, disgust. You knew she wouldn’t speak up for you, she was afraid of your father.

You ran towards rafe and wrapped yourself around him, crying into his neck as he held onto you tight and glared at your father who layed on the floor holding his bruised jaw.

“Shh, don’t worry princess. We’re getting you out of here.”

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0

[leapingbadger]

Back from the Dead (A CodyWan Story)

I feel the need to apologize for how frequently I'm posting about these two! I just love them so much. Just in time for Valentines Day, a little fluff and love for my favorite ship! Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Obi Wan is dealing with the ramifications after faking his death and going undercover as bounty Hunter, Rako Hardeen (TCW S4E15-18). While relationships are strained with Anakin and Ahsoka, Obi Wan desperately wants to make things right with Commander Cody. Through these unusual circumstances both men have learned how important the other is to them

Obi Wan sighed as he took in his reflection in the mirror. He ran his hand over his short, buzzed hair. It hadn’t been this short since he was a padawan. The stubble of his beard was also short and scratchy as he ran his hand over that too. He struggled to see himself looking back at him and hoped more than anything those important to him wouldn’t struggle in the same way.

He had been back in Coruscant for a couple of days since his undercover ordeal as Rako Hardeen. Impersonating the bounty hunter had been a means to an end but he had underestimated the quake of grief and disruption he would leave behind.

Anakin was still struggling to be in the same room with him without scowling or outward aggression. Even Ahsoka, who had been much more understanding, didn’t look at him the same way as before.

Today was the first day he would be rejoining his battalion after some much needed rest and Obi Wan took a deep breath to try and steady the nerves that fluttered in his stomach. He hadn’t seen his men in weeks. It had been longer still since he’d seen Cody.

Things had been good between them, before all of this. Stollen kisses after battle briefings, dinner dates in Coruscant’s underbelly, warm evenings in Obi Wan’s quarters in the Jedi temple. He felt a pain in his chest at the thought that it could all be lost at this point. The trust broken, never to be repaired.

He sighed as he adjusted his robes, clipped his lightsaber to his belt and stood back. He pulled a face in the mirror; he couldn’t wait for his hair to grow back.

The news of Obi Wan’s survival had spread as quickly as the news of his premature death. By the time he set foot on the Venator, the clones of his battalion were already smiling widely at his return. Those wearing their helmets waved happily.

“Good to have you back, Sir.” One said as he passed.

“Glad you’re still with us, Sir.” An officer said with a salute.

Obi Wan felt another pang of guilt for his deception. No matter how many times he told himself he did what he had to do, the regret persisted.

The Jedi breathed deeply as he made his way to the bridge. The flutters in his stomach only grew with the knowledge that Cody would be there. Obi Wan’s stomach flipped as he pressed the door release and entered the dimly lit room. His eyes searched for the familiar white and orange armor. He deflated slightly upon realizing it wasn’t there. He wasn’t there.

“Ah, General Kenobi,” Admiral Yularen said as he crossed the room, “welcome back.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Kenobi responded pleasantly, trying his best to keep his eyes from searching the room further.

“We will be jumping to hyperspace momentarily.” Yularen said, turning his attention to one of the consoles.

“Understood. You wouldn’t know where my Commander is, per chance?”

Yularen looked around distractedly, “I can’t say I’ve seen Commander Cody yet today.”

Obi Wan nodded his understanding “I should ready my men,” he said, leaving the bridge and continuing down the hallway towards the barracks in his search of his Commander.

***

Cody stopped abruptly at the site of swishing Jedi robes at the end of the corridor. The hood lowered to reveal a Jedi knight he only recognized by site. He knew Obi Wan was on the ship somewhere. He had been stopped numerous times by his brothers celebrating the return of their General.

Cody, of course, wanted to celebrate too. His desperate desire to find Obi Wan and throw his arms around him, bury his face in his neck, and kiss him deeply and in front of everyone was stemmed by his complicated feelings.

There was frustration and even anger. He had wanted nothing more than to murder the man who had taken Obi Wan from him. To watch as the light faded from his eyes. He hadn’t been sure where to redirect those feelings since he’d discovered the truth. The Jedi Council? The Republic? Obi Wan himself?

He was a soldier. If anyone understood Obi Wan needing to disappear, to fake his own death for a mission, it should have been Cody. And still he struggled, not only with the supposed death itself, but how it had made him feel.

Cody had mourned his General, his Jedi, deeply and privately. He hadn’t been able to show the outward grief of Ahsoka or Anakin, had only been able to nod mournfully as the Jedi discussed his untimely death as the “will of the Force”. He hadn’t even been able to attend the funeral.

The reality of the pain he had felt, the physical pain, in thinking Obi Wan was lost from the Galaxy was something no blaster bolt of vibroblade could ever cause. The alarming thing about Obi Wan’s death had been how starkly it had shown Cody the depth of his feelings for him. And how he couldn’t possibly be without him. It was frightening to love someone so much and know you could never truly have them.

“A credit for your thoughts?” a smooth voice sounded behind him.

Cody swung around and pulled his helmet off so he could look at Obi Wan with his own eyes. The Jedi stood with his hands clasped around his back.  His hair was shorter than Cody had ever seen, his ginger beard shaved close to his skin. Cody’s fingers itched to reach for it, but the constant movement in the corridor made him think better of it.

“Hello, Sir,” Cody said as last, breathlessly. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. Obi Wan may not look like himself, but he was still a sight for sore eyes. The Jedi’s smile could still make his knees weak.

“It’s good to see you, Commander.” Obi Wan said, the smile on his face made the corners of his eyes crinkle pleasantly. He stood a step too close for a casual conversation with his Commander and Obi Wan knew it. It was deliberate and he didn’t seem to care.

“You too, Sir. I’m…I’m glad you’re…here.” Cody finished lamely. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, what he’d planned to say since he’d been informed of Obi Wan’s survival, but he supposed it would have to do.

“As am I, Cody.” Obi Wan said. “Shall we?” he asked.

They made their way to the bridge and spent most of the day camped in front of the holotable with other clones, looking through battle plans and coordinating with other ships.

Cody found himself looking at Obi wan out of the corner of his eye, as though making sure he was still there. The blue swirls of hyperspace gave the Jedi a pale pallor of death and Cody couldn’t help but shudder.

“Are you alright, Commander?” Obi Wan whispered to him.

“I’m fine.” Cody said dismissively. He continued to feel Obi Wan’s eyes on him.

By the time shift change rolled around, Cody was ready to escape. Every feeling was bubbling inside him and making it impossible for him to keep them straight.

“Would you care for a nightcap, Commander?” Obi Wan asked as they made their way through the quiet corridors.

Cody paused. He wanted nothing more than some alone time with Obi Wan, but for some reason he hesitated.

“I…um…I think I need to get some rest, Sir.” He said formerly. He tapped his fingers on the edge of his helmet that was tucked under his arm nervously.

“I understand, Cody. But I have something I would like to say, and I would be most advantageous if it were said in private.”

Cody nodded and wordlessly followed as the Jedi led him down the corridor to his quarters. He watched as he punched in the code and followed him into the dark room.

Obi Wan turned on a low light, took off his outer robe and threw it casually onto his bed. Cody stayed just inside the door, unsure where to stand in a room he had once been so familiar with.

“Would you like a drink?” Obi Wan asked, pouring himself a glass of amber liquid.

Cody shook his head, “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Sir.”

Obi Wan raised his eyebrows, “Sir?” he asked questioningly.

“Obi Wan,” Cody corrected.

Obi Wan sank onto the edge of the bed and sighed, “I feel I have done greater damage than I could have ever anticipated with my deception, Cody. I am sorry for any pain I may have caused you. I would try to justify it. But if my recent experience is anything to go by, it won’t do much good.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Sir. You were doing your job.”

“I am not apologizing to you as your General, Cody. I’m apologizing to you because you’re…”

Obi Wan paused and Cody let the silence hang in the air. What was he to Obi Wan? He’d never really asked. He knew the Jedi cared for him, wanted him, but he wasn’t sure what any of it meant. Could Jedi love? Was that even allowed?

“What? What am I, Obi Wan?” Cody prompted softly as the silence continued to linger.

Obi Wan took a deep gulp of his drink and set it aside. He got up and crossed to the Commander, taking his helmet out of his hand and tracing the scar on the left side of his face ever so lightly with his fingertips.

“My lover. My dear. My everything.” He said quietly, punctuating every word with a kiss, first on the forehead, then on each cheek. His lips lingered above Cody’s as though waiting for permission.

Cody let out a shuddering breath and pulled the Jedi to him. The heat radiating from the kiss could have turned a star supernova. The Jedi’s lips pulled all of Cody’s anger, hurt, grief, and loss out of his body. He was reborn as Obi Wan had been reborn.

Cody’s hands reached for Obi Wan’s hair, hoping the rake his fingers through it as he had done so many times, he felt the stubble of his buzz cut and paused, pulling his lips away just enough to say, “I hate the haircut.”

He heard a chuckle rumble in Obi Wan’s throat, “So do I.” He said before pressing his lips back on Cody’s hungrily. Cody held Obi Wan’s face in his hands, “but the stubble, I like,” he said with a grin.

“Do you now?” Obi Wan purred.

Cody chuckled and nodded.

“I will take that under advisement, Commander.” The Jedi said.

***

Obi Wan shifted in bed and felt Cody’s strong arms close tighter around him. He was sure this was not what the Jedi council intended when they supplied larger beds for the Jedi. But what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them he supposed.

“I promise, I’m not going anywhere, Cody.” He whispered quietly, unsure if he was awake or not.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Cody murmured in return, wrapping both arms around his Jedi.

“I feel the need to point out that I did not invite you here for…this.” Obi Wan said, his cheeks blushing slightly, “I merely meant to apologize.”

“Apology accepted,” Cody said, kissing his cheek and nuzzling into the side of his neck.

Obi Wan turned to face him, his fingers again finding the scar on the side of his face. For some reason he gravitated towards it. It wasn’t the only thing that differentiated Cody from his brothers, his soul radiated in the Force like an independent star system, but it was the most outwardly obvious distinguisher and something Obi Wan had come to love in the same way he loved his chestnut eyes or the way his lips fell into a line when he was angry.

Love. He did love Cody. He shouldn’t, he knew that, in the same way he shouldn’t have loved Satine. He had trod the thin line as a Padawan, keeping his feelings at bay just enough to continue the relationship with the Duchess.

He was stronger in the force now, stronger in himself. Obi Wan was able to play the line between love and attachment like a musical instrument, at least he thought he could, until Cody.

Obi Wan had never felt a pull so strong to any other being in the galaxy before. He would have been scared of it, perhaps should have been, but he trusted in the force to guide him. And if the force was telling him that Cody was the one with whom he should share himself, his soul, then who was he to argue.

“What are you thinking about?” Cody asked, his eyes fluttering as he drifted in and out of sleep.

Obi Wan sighed and kissed the Commander’s nose. “Just you, my love. Only you.” He said quietly.

Cody’s eyes shot open, a smile spreading onto his lips.

“Love?” he said, questioningly.

“Oh, come now, that can’t be a surprise, can it?” the Jedi said, patches of pink climbing to his ears as the realization of his comment took hold.

Cody pulled him into a kiss, his hand softly tracing the stubble on Obi Wan’s face. The Commander pulled away, his eyebrows knitted together questioningly, “Can Jedi love?” Cody asked.

“Yes,” Obi Wan responded with a smile. “Attachment is what is forbidden.”

“I’m…I’m not sure I understand.” Cody said.

“There is a thin line between the positive side of love, and the negative aspects. It is those things, grief, fear, that can lead to the dark side and could be dangerous for a Jedi.”

Cody was quiet for a minute; Obi Wan studied his face as his brow furrowed and eyes flicked this was and that.

“Does that mean…could our relationship, our love, lead you to the dark side?” he asked, the concern obvious in his voice.

Obi Wan smiled and brushed his cheek. “Our love?” he asked, unable to keep the smugness as bay.

“That shouldn’t be a surprise, either,” The Commander said, his dark skin flushing. Obi Wan couldn’t help but pull him close and kiss him deeply.

“Cody, if there is anyone who can keep me in the light, it is and will always be you.” Obi Wan said.

Cody’s arms tightened around him as his lips found him again. And Obi Wan once again found himself drowning in the light of his very own star system.

[angelbutterfly-writes]

Just A Little While More

"Are you..." He stops, sparing a second to just take her in. "Are you ok?"

His voice is distraught, pain and longing seeping through every word, and even though he knows he shouldn't, he just wants to hold her. Forever.

Lucky for him, she has no such reservations. Shrugging off his grip on her wrist, she immediately pulls him into a hug, her legs winding themselves around his waist as he holds her up.

It's a position so familiar; a warmth immediately fills his chest, and he doesn't resist the urge to press the softest of kisses to her hair.

"Luce." He whispers, gently stroking the dark brown locks, gazing with wander as it fades to a vibrant orange.

"Shh." Her words are light touches to his skin, half mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, but he understands it all the same. "Just a little while more."

It is then he understands that she needs this just as much as him, maybe even more.

He gives them a few more minutes, soaking in the warmth and love she exudes, revelling in the comfort he's yearned for.

"Are you ok?" He asks again once her feet touch the ground.

Her first step is unsteady, suddenly ungrounded from the loss of contact, and he doesn't hesitate. His arms reach out to support her, and she offers him a smile in return.

"I should be asking you that." Turning, she rifles through a drawer behind her, pulling out dressings he wished she didn't have.

"I can do it." He tries to take the bandage from her, but she clutches it tighter, shaking her head.

"Shirt. Come on."

"I can..." He tries, but he knows his pleas are futile. She peels off the backing just as smoothly as he removes his shirt, gingerly cleaning the edges before pressing the cotton onto the weeping wound.

His skin is a flame under her touch, an excited tingling erupting anywhere she grazes, the feather-light brushes accompanied with a burning that could be a sign of infection or her warmth. He hopes it's the latter.

She feels the heat of his gaze and she knows he feels it too. She wants it more than anything she's wanted in a long time... She wants him here.

No matter how long they've been apart, how long since they broke up, she knows her feelings will never truly disappear.

"We shouldn't." She breaths as her eyes finally lift to his. Her hand rests against his chest, the only thing stopping her from getting any closer.

"I know." He whispers back. "But-"

Footsteps echo behind the door, and they know their time is up.

"You have to go." She shoves his shirt into his hands, crumpling up the bandages as she shoves them into her pockets. "Go, now."

"Lucy-"

"I'm not Lucy." She says loudly. "I'm Kim."

"Leave." The door opens, revealing Batista.

"What's with all the racket, Kim?" He looks at her angrily. "The kids are asleep and there will be no yelling in under my watch, even in a hotel."

"Yes, sir." She nods. "He just thought I was someone else, and was about to leave."

"Good." Batista steps away. "Have the kids ready by 7.30. I want them to start their lessons at 8. No reason for them to fall behind."

"Yes, sir."

Batista waits as Tim leaves the room, the latter's eyes lingering just long enough to catch her whispered words through the sliver in the door.

"I'll be ok."

[gwalch-mei]

For the OTP ask: 1, 3, 11, 22, 25 34, 39, 40

hi sarah ty for the ask!!!!

1. whos the better cook?

theyre both awful at it but lance is slightly better on account of having the actual patience to cook!! gawain doesnt wanna wait for things to cook properly so theyre either burnt or undercooked skjdfhudsioj

3. are they into PDA? who initiates the most?

they LOVE pda it took lancelot a little bit to be comfortable with it but now he cant get enough of it!! gawain usually initiates just bc he craves physical touch constantly <3 they make the whole round table groan when theyve decided they cant be apart during meetings, and are sitting in the same seat <3 sometimes they get a little TOO into pda and are asked to leave the hall kjdsfhudsijpol

arthurs just trying to tell em abt some quests theyve got to go on and those two have their tongues down each others throats like dsjfhuiojdsk

11. who leaves notes in the others lunch? what do they say?

they both like to leave notes for each other!!! its mostly reminders of stuff like 'drink water' or 'youve got a meeting with this person at this time' bc they both have AWFUL memory but there will always be notes that say stuff like 'i love you' and 'youre the man i love most in the world'

also i think gawain would write random poetry for lancelot bc hes a sap <3 lancelot isnt as good at writing as gawain but knows he loves flowers so he starts pressing them for gawain as little gifts instead <3

22. love languages? how do they get around differences, if any?

gawain is BIG into physical touch and gift giving like those are SO important to him partly because he wasnt sure how to show he loved someone other than being physical and providing for them but theyre working on him expressing that in a more healthy way <3

lancelot LOVES words of affirmation and physical touch as well, but (and this is due to me hcing him as autistic) he gets overwhelmed really easily but thats just another thing theyre working on <3 they really doesnt clash too much with differing love languages except for physical touch because it can be overwhelming for lancelot if hes already overstimulated </3

25. what do they like about each other?

from a physical point of view they love EVERYTHING abt their partners body as its proof of the life theyve lived and everything theyve experienced, good or bad <3

on a more individual level they both love the others patience, since theyve not been shown a lot of patience or kindness in their lives so its great to have someone who will care about you like that <3 they also appreciate that their lives are so similar, since id imagine being some of arthurs best knights can be quite isolating (people either treat you with thinly veiled distain and jealously, or treat you like an authority) so its nice for them to have that person who understands the pressure of that situation and will treat you as lancelot or as gawain, not Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain <3 overall its about them just feeling like they can be themselves with each other!!

34. how do they cheer each other up during sad times?

it can be difficult because they both def suffer from a myriad of mental and physical health issues but theyve got a system!!

luckily they rarely have episodes on the same day. if lancelot is feeling down he just wants gawains presence, and wants to be able to hear his voice. so gawain will just sit with lancelot and talk <3 doesnt matter if lancelot doesnt respond, gawain will keep this up until lancelots doing better <33 lancelot also just wants to hold him half the time as a grounding technique <3 the pressure is enough to bring him back half the time. gawain can be a bit more complicated bc hes not very good at the whole "acknowledging that i have emotions" thing. hes one of those people that if hes feeling a bit off in any way he just ignores it until his body is like WELL YOURE NOT IGNORING IT ANY LONGER and it takes him tf out sdkljfidoskp (hes just like me fr) since being w lancelot hes been working on actually listening to these cues and is getting better at it <3 its still hard tho. but when hes fully laid low either by mental or physical illness hes gotta fight the urge to isolate himself bc that just makes it worse, so he seeks out lancelot and just wants to be held thats all <3

39. do they get along with the others family? if not how do they deal with the others family?

ooooooo boy here we go sjdfihudsijpkl; ok so and i mean this is just canon but gawains family (minus gareth) HATE lancelot dskfjoidsp and they make it their personal mission to torment him. they dont do it when gawains there (they tried once and. never again. his wrath knew no bounds) lancelots tried EVERYTHING to bond with them and it just never works sjdfhusodij;l so the strat is just to not have lancelot be alone with them, gawains always gotta come with.

gawain gets along really well with lancelots family! minus galahad, who he thinks doesnt like him (hes neutral about gawain, at best) but all the others LOVE him and are very excited when he comes to family gatherings with lancelot <3 the lady of the lake is especially fond of him (she didnt used to be tho lmao)

40. who is the skilled shopper for the holidays? who always waits till last minute?

gawain is def better at it!!! hes had YEARS of practice and is also a high strung perfectionist when it comes to gift giving (hes a bit of a people pleaser so its gotta be perfect) he starts planning gifts MONTHS in advance, same goes with any drinks or food thats needed like hes out here drafting up entire menus for things kdsjfhusodijkl and he gets SO stressed oml

lancelot is also stressed but in the opposite direction! he COMPLETELY forgets abt any holidays or birthdays until the last minute and has to frantically call gareth for help (the other orkneys just laughed and hung up on him) so cue him and gareth trying to find out whats even open this late and (quietly) prep so they dont wake up gawain but it all works out bc even tho lancelot was NOT prepared he picks out fantastic gifts that gawain LOVES every year without fail <3 lancelot please get yourself a calender tho like dskjfidsk

[yujo-nishimura]

Whispers of the Desert Kingdom - Part 9

Warning: Sir Crocodile x fem reader, English is not my native language, not proof-read, age gap - forced marriage, angst and manipulation

After every chapter I am happy about I write one which is not so satisfying. Sorry again for the short interlude - work is overwhelming me these days and university assignments are also piling up. But I'd rather give you all small chapters every day than no writing for weeks, right..? We are almost at the smut part, I just need some time and focus to get it done with. ;)

Taglist: @mcgeemouse , @fan-g0rl , @vexladin , @black-swan-blog27

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Despite the initial fear and pain, there was an undeniable thrill that coursed through your veins. The sense of helplessness mixed with excitement awakened a part of you that you hadn't fully acknowledged before. And as you looked into the depths of Crocodile's eyes, you could sense that he too derived pleasure from this power dynamic.

However, deep down, you understood that Crocodile was not one to submit to anything that did not serve a significant benefit to him. While he may have appeared to hold all the control in this moment, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to his actions. Perhaps he had a liking for you, or at the very least, he enjoyed the admiration you had for him.

In a moment of bravery, you mustered all your courage and gently touched Crocodile's hand that rested on your heart. Understanding that words would only complicate matters, you silently urged him to come closer, pulling his hand towards you.

To your surprise, he followed your request, his massive frame settling beside you. His hooked arm enveloped your waist, drawing you closer. His proximity allowed you to perceive the intoxicating musky scent that emanated from him, and he could likely feel the frantic pace of your heartbeat beneath his touch.

You seized the initiative and pressed your lips against his. This kiss felt different from the one you shared at the wedding—more controlled yet infused with a deeper passion. Crocodile reciprocated the kiss, pulling you closer into his embrace. As you surrendered to his strength, you felt like a small doll in the arms of a giant.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, Crocodile seemed torn between releasing you entirely or holding onto you even tighter. You gently placed your hand on his cheek, tracing the outline of his scar with your fingertips.

"I am yours now," you whispered, and those words were precisely what he had been waiting to hear. It was all he needed to confirm the connection between you, the acknowledgment of your surrender to him. As the weight of your whispered confession settled in the air, Crocodile's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, satisfaction, and something deeper that you couldn't quite decipher. His grip on you tightened, securing you in his embrace as if he feared you might slip away. Crocodile leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice husky and filled with a mix of longing and possessiveness. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, my dear. But I promise you this, I will claim you as mine in every way possible."

As Crocodile abruptly pulled away, your heart sank, and a sense of disappointment washed over you. His sudden withdrawal left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, like a flame extinguished before it could fully ignite.

His words cut through the charged atmosphere, devoid of any hint of emotion. "I have no time for this now," he reiterated, his voice laced with the same dry resolution as the night before. "You can stay here or go back to the palace. I will meet you tonight."

Your heart was still beating fast, you felt like a fish thrown on land, gasping for air. You wanted him so badly, for a moment you had felt so close to him but then he had again, let go of you, not sure if he was still hesitant or really did not like you. 

With a heavy sigh, you rose to your feet, feeling the need to create physical distance, hoping it would alleviate the awkwardness between you. "I will go to the palace but await you there," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of determination and frustration. "Don't think for a moment that I will allow you to get away with only leaving bloodstains on my sheets again tonight..!"

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

The Piper and the Frog

For this challenge proposed by @thepenultimateword, I had to mix the Pipe Piper and the Frog Prince (you'll admire the originality of the title). This is what I got:

*

When the rat catcher stepped into the throne room, both the king and queen failed to hide their surprise. They had been warned, though. Most people thought that this man was not completely human.

What a peculiar appearance, though ! He was so skinny and tall, his spine rigid as if wearing a tight corset. His face was the color of flour, contrasting with the skin of his neck and arms, with golden spirals under the eyelids. It didn’t look like makeup. Discolored long hair fell on his shoulders. His long sky-blue robe with wide sleeves was made of a silk that not many royal guests could have afforded. The same golden spirals were shining on the fabric, and it was hard to stare away. Stuck in his belt, there was one simple flute. Whoever he was, it was evident that this man had spent a long time with the fair folks, and hadn’t come back untouched.

The king and the queen knew how important it was to be polite with the faeries, so they treated him like a prince. Not once they wondered out loud how he could catch rats in such an outfit. Instead, they invited him to dinner. While they ate, young and beautiful girls danced for them and harp players sang.

The rat catcher was not exactly impolite, but didn’t look impressed either. He accepted silently what happened, staring in front of him, his face emotionless except for a tiny smile when the orchestra began to play. He barely ate, and the queen blushed in humiliation. The dinner had not been a feast. It was all they could find that had been spared by the rats. Only during the (meager) dessert the king tried to talk about it:

“It’s like a curse. I’ve never seen anything like it. We can’t poison them, we can’t hit them fast enough. We don’t have many cats, and when I try to buy some from the next kingdom, they ran away or die of illness. At first, they were hiding. Now they don’t even bother. We see some in the day, looking at us in the eye as they’re eating our food. They know they won. It’s only a matter of time before everyone here die of sickness. I’ve already lost some guards who were bitten. Our only son has ran away years ago and can’t be found. Please sir, you are our only hope.”

The rat catcher looked at the thrones and at the once beautiful tapestries surrounding them. Everything had been nibbled. Precious furniture was covered with droppings. The people threw anxious glances here and there, as if dreading to see a form moving from the shadows, grimacing when they did, then staring away in defeat. From the guards to the dancers to the royal couple, they all look exhausted.

The rat catcher made his first genuine smile of the day.

“Pests”, he said. “Quite strange creatures, aren’t they? So sure of themselves. So confident when they take away beauties that they can’t understand, and destroying them. Oh yes. I’ll deal with them.”

His voice was sweet but the tone was strange. Many people shivered, without knowing why. The man nodded to his hosts, then went out of the room without another word. The queen pressed the king’s wrist:

“He looked very passionate about pests”, she said. “I’m glad our son couldn’t meet him.”

“I’m glad too.”

*

Now to be clear, it wasn’t exact that the prince had run away. The prince had not left the kingdom, not even the capital. In his current state, it wouldn’t have been very easy. He was currently living in a lake, next to the forest.

He’d seen the rats during his time here. It’d have been hard to find a place where they weren’t there. Sometimes they came to drink. Sometimes he’d fought against them, with no success. They had teeth and he hadn’t, not anymore. They were stronger and more agile when he was nothing but a green mass with awkward legs.

He’d never been seriously hurt, though. That was the thing with curses. The person who had thrown the spell on you always made sure you stayed healthy, so you could endure your fate worse than death the longest time possible. He stayed there, his humans thoughts and memories and desires trapped in a frog’s tiny mind, turning and turning around. He learned to eat flies and to hide from predators.

He couldn’t drown. Sometimes he wished he could.

He didn’t like to look at humans anymore. They were a painful reminder and a threat, all of them. So when he heard a flute so close to the lake, his first impulse was to flee into the water.

He didn’t, though. The sound was unlike he ever heard before, and yet somehow it was something familiar, something he thought he’d heard a long time ago. He stayed frozen in place, one of his three eyelids twitching, hearing with his inner ears, his lungs, his skin, his whole soul.

Frogs are better at seeing far objects. The prince saw at first a long silhouette covered in sky-blue silk, his flute like a strange beak. Then, he heard a trumping, and focused his large eyes on the ground. Rats were coming. Not only some of them. Lots and lots of them. More than he’d ever seen in his life. A walking, gray meadow. They came in troops without hastening, but not slowly either.

Survival instinct told him to run away, but he stayed glued on the leaf, watching the lake getting surrounded.

One rat fell – no, not fell, stepped into the water. The prince stared at it, expecting it to swim, but it didn’t. It let itself drown, its little black eyes only expressing a vague dreaminess. The others followed. The frog felt drops of water made from their splashing glistening on his skin. Bodies floated around him before plunging into the darkness.

“You are no ordinary animal.”

To say this, the rat catcher had interrupted his song. The prince made a desperate effort to jump, but two hands came over to catch him before he could escape.

“Let me go!” he croaked.

“Not before you tell me who you are.”

“You can understand me?”

“I speak many languages.”

“I’m – I was the prince of this kingdom. I was cursed, as you can see.”

There was a moment of silence. The frog couldn’t look at the rat catcher’s expression, but a few seconds later, he was gently laid on a polished stone. Then the face of the man came into view. The prince took a while before realizing that he was kneeling before him. Again, he was overwhelmed by an impression of familiarity – he’d never seen that stranger, and yet, something in that gesture…

“Who did this to you?” asked the flute player. “What happened?”

The frog gulped.

“I don’t know how it happened. One night I was a man, the next morning a frog. I went to my parents – their room was just in front of mine.”

“How did they react?”

“Well…”

The prince stayed silent for a moment. He remembered his own deformed voice, helplessly trying to form words. He remembered jumping on the royal bed, watching his mother blinking, his own heart beating at the idea that she could scream and try to kill him-

The queen had done nothing of the sort. She’d woken up her husband, and whispered:

“So the spell has worked.”

The prince had a bitter smile.

“They knew already. In fact, they’d asked an enchantress to curse me.”

“Why?”

Embarrassed by the constant staring, the prince moved his legs awkwardly:

“They wanted me to have children. For children, I have to marry. I didn’t want to, and they felt I needed an incentive.”

The frog sighed:

“For the curse to wear off, I have to convince a princess to spend the night with me. My parents told me that and let me go out of the castle.”

“Like that? They didn’t help you at all?”

“Oh, I was supposed to figure things on my own. For a little frog, it’s a big kingdom. I never made it. Maybe they just wanted me out of the way. I tried to stay among people for a while, but since no one understood me, I settled for this lake. It’s- it’s nice.”

He looked at the water that was overflowing with corpses:

“Well, it was.”

“Did no one have pity on you?”

“Who would? They all thought I’d run away. Well, there was- there was my best friend. After my disappearance, he was so sad he bound three bands of iron around his heart, for preventing it to break.”

“Your best friend?”

“Technically, a servant. He mourned me. He was the only one telling people something was wrong, but he left to find me and was never seen again. No one cared about that either, but it’s my fault.”

“How so?”

“I spent so much time with him, everyone thought it was his fault if I didn’t want to find a wife.”

“Were they right?”

“Does it matter? What’s done is done. He knew nothing of the life outside the kingdom. I don’t think he survived. It’s been three years now.”

“Three years is a long time. It’s enough to get lost in the woods. It’s enough to be caught by the fairies.”

“Thanks, you don’t exactly-”

“Your majesty. What do you think happen when you sleep on a fairy mount but your heart is protected by iron?”

“I- I don’t-”

“The fairies take you in. They teach you how to live with nature, how to talk with animals, how to make music that binds the listeners to the will of the musician, and to end curses.”

With that, the rat catcher delicately took the leg of the frog prince into his hand, and kissed it three times. A golden mist appeared around the beast, then went away, revealing a young man with emerald skin. The prince used his new legs to throw himself against the rat catcher, his arms feeling the iron bands under the soft blue silk.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“The years have changed me, your Majesty. I didn’t recognize you at first, either. I also thought you died.”

“Then why coming back?”

There was no answer. The prince gently got free from the embrace to look at the surroundings.

“You brought the rats here,” he said. “Didn’t you?”

The flute player was silent.

“You never were going to be satisfied with the reward they had for you.”

The flute player was silent.

“You were going to burn this kingdom.”

“I cursed them,” slowly said the rat catcher. “I cursed them all, with all my hate. The rats were just the first stage. I wanted them to beg me before I crushed them. I wanted-”

The prince took his hands:

“What if you wouldn’t?”

“It can’t be stopped.”

“Can it be changed?”

The flute player looked at him. The prince put a hand on his chest. His touch was soft, but the three iron bands broke under his fingers. The rat catch took a deep breath, feeling his heart beating fast for the first time since three years.

“I’m sure we can find something”, said the prince. “Now that we’re both here.”

*

The kingdom stood. The castle is still there. The houses have not caught fire. It’s silent, though. Maybe it’s because the people are mourning.

Maybe it’s because the children are gone, all of them.

The kids hold the hands of the toddlers who are carrying babies. They follow a man transformed by hate, and a man transformed by love.

People said they were all damned. Then again, happy endings can take such strange forms.

*

Additional notes:

- Read The Frog Prince here: https://www.worldoftales.com/fairy_tales/Brothers_Grimm/Grimm_fairy_stories/The_Frog_Prince.html#gsc.tab=0 and many versions of the Pipe Piper here: https://sites.pitt.edu/~dash/hameln.html

- Yes, the servant who bounded his chest with iron was in the Grimm version (with zero impact on the plot, that’s why he was deleted from most modern versions), and come on...

- Yes, frogs have three eyelids and they can hear with their skin and lungs, etc. The more you know.

- The Pied Piper might have been based on a real story that happened in the Middle Ages. In the 13th century, 130 children disappeared in Hamelin. No one knows why or how. Sweet dreams!

*

Back to Fantasy Masterlist

[yanban-san]

Binging the Eldritch Submas for that sweet sweet fluff with a dash of nervousness and not-quite-understanding-but-eager-to-learn-about-humanity monster content. 👌👌👌 That's the good stuff right there.

It's been said and written many times before that the twins tend to leak their true forms when flustered/in love/~spicy times~ happen, but could the same also be said when they're angered? Not annoyance or impatience, or "Gods not this twat again", but actual, unbridled pissed off anger.

Scenarios abound because brainrot real.

Emmet happens across a small group of onlookers while doing his rounds, curious to what caused the gathering. Lo and behold, Darling is there, dealing with a rude patron. He goes in to take care of it, but gets a front row seat to a sucker punch at Darling. He can feel his form starting to split as he not-so-gently shoves the attacker back towards the other Depot Agents, barely holding it together as he gives orders. When they leave and the gathering is ushered on their ways, he briskly leaves to the employee only areas, away from humanity's sight. Darling follows in concern, knowing that Emmets is barely held together with only force and will, and finds him cracking out of his human shape. Both travel to his office away from prying eyes, where Darling thankfully manages to convince him to not kill/erase the attacker or to not cause grevious harm, and comforts him with care and reaffirmations.

Ingo and Darling are in the tunnels for safety checks and maintinence, Darling on lights while Ingo's on the tracks. The light to their left's alright, the second one just started, when rapidly approaching footsteps catch their ears. Darling looks down in time to see a trio of troublemakers approaching before their ladder gives way with a shove. The world is alight with pain and stars in the air when they collide with the railing. When the world is clear again, they hear retreating footsteps and screams fading to the distance, and can feel the darkness surrounding them. Ingo's form is cracking, threatening to swallow the tunnel (perhaps beyond) with the little that's already out. Darling pushes up off the track, and Ingo is instantly next to them, focusing on them with the troublemakers pushed out of mind. His upper face is stuck in shadows with a few too many silver eyes, and is hugged all the same. Legs having turned to jelly, Darling is swept up by Ingo and carried down the tunnel. Reaffirmations carry down the tunnel softly as the pair travel down.

Put it under spoiler tag 'cause is long ^^

Emmet didn't bother walking, in truth. He took a step forward, and his destination became a far closer than a single mortal stride ever would take him.

An unruly passenger. Someone whose heart was overtaken by anger, over what? A train running late? A missing pass? What silly things to be so upset over.

They would have far more pressing concerns soon enough.

"…and FUCK you!"

"Please, Sir, I'm just following procedure- We can replace your pass, but I need to see your I.D-"

Oh?

The sound of your voice surprised and alarmed him- Weren't you on break?

And the way that mortal spoke to you-

"Out of my way." Emmet demanded, briskly moving towards the sound of your voice and across the clusters of customers and would-be passengers in front of him.

All that mattered was you-

"For the last fucking time, I ain't showing you shit-"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir. You're causing a disturbance-"

"Like hell I am! I'll cause as much of a disturbance as I want!"

You sighed heavily, trying your best to maintain your composure. Though to be fair- Would Emmet and Ingo even punish you if you didn't? Given how they treated you now, and especially now that you knew- Or well, sort of knew- What they were, they'd probably think it very endearing-

"…All because YOU won't do your fucking job!"

You shook your head, looking around, and barely paying attention to the insults being hurled at you- Few customers were watching, and fewer still were even in the area. You'd already called Gear Station Security, and all that was left was to wait the few minutes it would take for them to arrive. One way or another, this man wouldn't be getting a free pass, or even another ride on the train. How unfortunate. Not.

And then you heard a familiar clicking of heels. Not like the any of your coworkers walked, but a strange rhythmic, distinctive clicking- Of a man who was more like a oricorio then any human.

But who really wasn't a human at all, was he?

"Oh, Emme-!" You shouted, gesturing for him to come over- Anyone to deal with this slimeball- But your words faltered, looking at the glint of venomous ire in his eyes.

"Fucking pay attention-!"

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man approach- And specifically you saw his fist.

And closed your eyes, turning your head away in anticipation of the blow- That connected with your face, but far lighter than you'd thought he'd strike-

"What the- fucking-"

"Oh my. Someone isn't following proper safety procedures."

You turned to see not your attacker, but Emmet- Standing between you and the customer, holding their fist in his own hand-

Crack.

"Fucking- OW!"

The man winced, and Emmet kicked his legs out from under him- Still holding his clenched hand.

"Shut up." He continued, his voice as icy and dead as seemingly possible-

"Who the fuck-"

"I said. Shut up." Emmet repeated.

The man opened his mouth to speak- And nothing came out. His frame trembling, his eyes wide-

"Sir!"

"We're so sorry, we were responding-"

Your coworkers- And two security guards- Stopped when they saw you, lying on the ground with a slowly blooming bruise on your cheek- And their awe-inspiring Lord and Master holding down the worm had injured you.

"Em-Emmet-"

Emmet's attention lingered on the man a moment more before he shoved him backwards- Falling down to your side.

"My poor love-" "Are you alright?"

"It's- It's just a bruise, it'll heal-" You spoke carefully. If you made too light of it, they wouldn't pay attention to your words- If you made it too serious, they wouldn't be as merciful as you were trying to train them to be.

His smile was pained as his silver eyes scrutinized the blemish on your face. His hand caressed the corner of your face, squishing your cheek and making you wince. His eyes narrowed.

"You've been hurt." He remarked. Yes, you wanted to say, but that doesn't mean you need to erase this guy-

You pushed his hand away, making him flinch. "I'm fine, Emmet." You retorted. He opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it, turning his attention to the Depot Agents behind you.

"Ramses. Remove this man. He is not allowed in Gear Station. Or any station for that matter. Ever again. You three. Assist him."

Ramses nodded, and the rest of the depot agents followed his orders- And Emmet picked you up, dusting you off.

"You alright?" Ramses asked. He may not have been a particular kind Agent, but he wasn't apathetic, either- And the bruise on your cheek was turning an awful shade of reddish-brown, and rather quickly.

"I- I'm really okay, that was just a bit of a shock, really."

Emmet grabbed your shoulder tighter. His mouth split open again, but no voice came out.

"Emmet." You warned, noticing the dangerously bright glint in his slit-like pupils. His gaze turned back to you.

"Daaarling…" he pouted. "Fine. You need medical attention. Come with me."

"Wait-"

But he would not listen to your protests, and in a flurry of movement you were in the back hallways of Gear Station being lead away with your beloved, most likely towards a med station or something-

"Emmet," You began, trying to get his attention.

He kept walking, drumming his free hand against his lips- His mouth wordlessly opening and closing.

"Emmet-"

His stare intensified down the hallway, his pace picking up as he muttered to himself in a voice quite unlike the voice of Station Master Emmet. "He shouldn't be ali-"

"EMMET!" You raised your own voice, grabbing his arm with your free hand.

Emmet stopped walking, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

"…Yes?" He finally answered.

"I- …I'm okay. You already banned the guy from Gear Station, you don't need to do anything else." You explained. "I'm okay."

His grip on your hand tightened.

"But that man hurt you."

You sighed. "Y-Yes he did, but that doesn't mean he deserves death."

Emmet's head tilted away from you. "He deserves worse-"

You shook your head, squeezing his hand back. "No, he really doesn't."

You continued on. "You don't need to react so strongly, Emmet- Yes, that guy did something bad, but- He's going to suffer enough being banned from the Subway, don't you think? Look at me."

He shook his head.

"Emmet… Please look at me."

"…No."

You looked down at his hand. One, two, three… Four, five, six- Seven- fingers? Clothed like the glove, but different.

"I don't mind what you look like." You offered. "You have extra fingers on your hand right now, you know."

He tried to pull his hand away. You held on. "All that means to me is I have more hand to hold. And I'm not letting go."

You squeezed it harder. "You were really cool back there, you know."

His body relaxed. Oh?

"It was thanks to you that this bruise wasn't worse. And it was super cool how you leapt out to save me. And how you grabbed his hand. And you shut him up just by intimidating him."

The face of your beloved began turning towards you.

"I'm so glad to have such a wonderfully strong boss who works so hard to protect me."

You leaned against him. "And I'm very glad you listened to me,"

"So won't you please look at me?"

Emmet turned his face to you- His smile pursed, his eyes- Cracking. Like dried up, ancient plaster, revealing a shadowy shape underneath- His mouth came open a little bit, the maw darkened within- His sideburns giving way to feathers and fur and silky-shimmering-ribbons of white and silver. His pupils were slits, glowing with the smallest hint of light- Yet still bright enough to make the lights of the hall seem dim and dull in comparison. You grabbed his cheek, holding his face in front of you.

"L-Love," He stuttered out, as you rubbed the corners of his cracked face.

"Shh. You've done good, Emmet." You remarked, gently tracing the edge of the visible feathers- They were soft, and cool and warm and perfect to touch. Your hand shivered as you brushed them, and he closed his eyes gently and slowly, watching you the whole time.

"You did good. Thank you."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Stay close to me," Ingo ordered. You nodded quietly and cautiously, and Ingo's arm went around your shoulders, pulling you close to him.

"We don't know what exactly is down here- You wanted to see what it might be?"

"…Yes." You nodded again, looking up at the Subway Boss. Despite the darkness, his silver eyes shone brighter than the light around you. It was frightening- The tunnels of the Subway were dark, twisting- And ever-shifting and ever-turning. Ever since you learnt the truth of your bosses, you'd learned the truth of Gear Station too- And how the tunnels were constently the subject of attacks from… Other things.

And your curiosity got the better of you.

You wanted to see these Other things, if you could. Besides, if Ingo and Emmet were as powerful as they said they were, resassuring you that you would never be hurt by those Other Things- Would it be such a problem if you wanted to encounter one? Especially with them to protect you.

Ingo wrapped his arm around you, even tighter. "I won't let you go."

You hugged him back.

The two of you walked carefully in the dark tunnels- Your footsteps clicking, yet not echoing- The light illuminating the edges of the tunnels seemed dimmed, somehow- Offset by the brightness of the fire-lights of Ingo's dear chandelure, floating around the two of you in contentment as it moved back and forth around the tunnel.

You stayed mostly silent, listening carefully as you approached the strange sound, echoing down the halls of the Subway Tunnel. It only grew louder and louder, a horrible screechy-groaning-grinding sound that reverberated in your ears and left them ringing. Ingo grabbed you harder, stepping forward- His silver eyes blinked slowly under the brim of his hat, less like a blink and more as though he were paying attention to something-

"Ah." He remarked- And you turned your head up to him, tilting your head curiously. "A T-junction is stuck, it seems. …I don't believe it's anything… Supernatural, my dear."

"You can tell all that, just from closing your eyes a second?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"…I can tell you anything I like about these tunnels, my Love." He drummed his hand along your shoulder, making you shiver. "Here, let us deal with that racket, first. It must hurt your ears."

You nodded, and the two of you approached the problem area, rounding the corner to see the T-junction beam bent out of shape, and several of the tunnel lights humming and flickering-

"Hmm." Ingo noted. "I'll handle the rail. Will you take a look at the lights?" You nodded in response, already rolling up your sleeves. The lights didn't seem to be out, but were certainly behaving strangely- No doubt due to some Joltiks having themselves a feast, you guessed.

Ingo hopped down over the railing of the maintenance trail and you settled in front of the circuit box for the lights, and- Yup, chewed through, frayed wires. Nothing a little electrical tape, and a few replacement wires, wouldn't fix, you were certain. You couldn't help but turn to Ingo while you taped some of the exposed bits up- Ever curious as to what he was doing. He looked down at the bent, twisted rail, grinding against itself, and suddenly it was engulfed in shadows- And a loud clunk and bang later, the shadows unraveled, and the rail was- Fine. Better than fine- It looked brand new.

You were about to ask him what exactly he'd done, when suddenly you heard a shuffling in the darkness of the tunnel- And you turned your head to see a large, heavy thing rapidly moving towards you- Falling on top of you. A ladder. What was a ladder doing here?

Ingo heard your yelp in surprise, and you flinched, unable to move.

"Holy shit-" "Bolt!" "Go!"

The impact never came.

"Are you alright?"

You opened your eyes nervously- The ladder that had been threatening to squish you like a wurmple was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Ingo was holding you. Tightly.

"A monster-!" "Holy fucking shit-"

You craned your neck to see the shadows of- Teens. Of course. Bolting their way up an access ladder back into a street above the tunnel, where sunlight poured down- But was blocked by a shadowy shape, reaching out into the rays, almost looking like they pulled at the light- Covering the walls and undulating like a living mass of darkness- Which is what it was, wasn't it?

"Darling?"

You turned your head to look at Ingo again- A shadowy figure dripping with darkness, with silver lights of eyes looking down at your figure. You felt the cold, smooth tentacles wrapping around your skin and cradling you tightly.

"I-I- I think I'm okay," You breathed heavily, feeling your heart beginning to settle from the shock. The shadowy figure picked you up, cradling you tightly against his chest-

"Y-You're a lot larger like this," You remarked. "All the better to protect you, my Dear." He purred back. "I would hate to think about what might have happened had you been injured…"

"Thank- Thank you, Ingo."

Your boss-turned-Sweetheart-turned-inhuman-monster cuddled you tighter. "Let us return to the safety of Gear Station… I would feel better if you were there, especially to recover…"

And off he went, carrying you- Settling back into a more human form, silvery-eyes looking at you from out of the darkness, closing the moment you made eye contact with them. "You're cute like this."

Ingo stopped for a second, the eyes shutting around him as the ones on his face widened. "W-What? What do you mean?"

"Your eyes. They're pretty. Like starlight. And your shadows, they're very comforting-" And you craned your neck, kissing him on the cheek-

"But not as comforting as having such a protective sweetheart like you around, Ingo."

"I- I-"

You almost giggled at how flustered he sounded, stuttering out words as his fingers dug into your sides where he carried you- And other hands grabbed, holding you tightly.

"That- That is, it would be- Expected, I would think-"

"Expected or not, thank you for protecting me, Love."

He took a deep breath. "Of course, My love." He gripped you even tighter- Almost painfully so. "Be a little cautious with your words," He breathed out, his voice strangely calm. "I have quite little patience when it comes to being so tormented by your affections, My dear."

You could feel a blush spreading across your face- And if there was any light left in the tunnels, you would've been able to see that Ingo had much the same across his own human features.

[diabolikwriter]

Nga yawne lu oer - Chapter 6

Recom! Miles x Na’vi/Avatar! Fem! Reader - Chapter 6

Words spoken in Na’vi will be outlined like this: Nga yawne lu oer

Warnings: A bit racism, a bit of torture otherwise known as the Generals favourite interrogation method. Miles struggling with his mind, soft Miles.

Word Count: 1455

 Chapter 6: A Deal                                   

                                                 (y/n)’s POV

You had woken up to the sight of Quaritch, sitting beside you and you lying in a bed, which at the very least was more comfortable than the floor and the chair, but not as comfortable as the hammock in you tent back at High Camp. The only thing you had on your mind was the welfare of your son, and your patience was slowly beginning to run out.

“Quaritch, where’s my son?” It still hurt to call him Quaritch, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of calling him by his first name, nor would you pretend that things were fine between you.

“He’s being held in an interrogation room at the moment.” Your ex-fiancé answered almost immediately, and his ears were once again tucked to his head.

“I want my son here with me.” You knew that you were a hostage, and you even felt scared, not knowing what would happen to you, but you needed to be strong, and you needed to show him and everyone else, that you had changed these past 15 years, and that you no longer just were a young scientist, no now you were a mother. You were a mother, but you were missing your son, and therefore you would fight tooth and nail to get him back, but hissing and cursing would only make them see you as a savage, so you tried to be ‘diplomatic’.

“I know that Darli- (y/n), but you must understand that that isn’t in my power to do.” Quaritch tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t have it.

“If you want me to be cooperative, and not act as what you would define a savage, then you give me my son back.” Quaritch quirked an eyebrow at that, and you sighed. “Look, I won’t betray Jake and Neytiri, I owe them a lot, and they’ve been there for me for the past 15 years, and whether you like it or not Jake’s like a brother to me. But I will help you with moving around the forest, and learning the Na’vi language, you know the whole thing about knowing your enemy. I can do that, I can teach you how to get your own Ikran but in exchange I want my son.” She could see the answer in his eyes before he spoke.

“Fine, I’ll figure out something, it’s a deal.” With that Miles stood up, and she noticed cuts on his knuckles, before he walked towards the door. “I’m gonna lock the door. Behave, and you might get more privileges, but you are still a hostage, you are MY hostage. And don’t forget to take a breath from that mask.” With that he turned around and walked out, the door closing and locking behind him.

                                                   Miles’ POV

He hated talking to her like that. It was all so confusing. He knew that it was just memories, and that he weren’t even the same person, but God he loved her. The deal she made was good, but part of way he agreed was because it was her. He couldn’t cope with the thought of you hurting that much, and so he gave in.

When he made it to the door leading into the interrogation room he last saw Miles in, one of the soldiers called out to him.

“Colonel sir, may I ask what you are doing?”

“I’m on my way to talk with the young hostage.”

“But sir the General are interrogating him right now.” Miles felt his blood run cold, he cursed beneath his breath, before walking towards that place again.

When he made it there, his son was sitting the exact same place you had been, only he was yelling a bit more than you had been, and something inside him clenched uncomfortably. This one was gonna be a bit harder to explain to the General, but he still jogged towards the oof button and pressed down on it again.

“Colonel. This is the second time today that you have interrupted my interrogation of the hostages. So what’s the excuse now.” The General looked extremely displeased but it didn’t matter, this woman was meddling with things that didn’t concern her.

“Sorry General, but I would like to request that I myself can interrogate my hostages.” Miles spoke as respectful as he could, while cursing the woman in his head.

“Why, you already have that savage woman, what do you need this confused boy for?” Miles didn’t like how she spoke about you nor your son, but as he kept reminding himself, this woman was higher in rank than him, and he had been taught a lesson when he was but a young soldier, that you DO NOT under any circumstances act disrespectful, towards your superior, and he was still a soldier after all. He breathed through his mask before answering the General.

“I’ve made a deal with the woman. If I give her back this boy, she will willingly teach us the Na’vi way, which I believe could be a big asset in capturing the traitor of humanity. We will have the opportunity to be one step ahead.” He explained and the General did look intrigued.

“Hmm I see. Well alright you can take the boy, but keep the hostages under observation 24/7 got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” Miles saluted, he freed the boy and hauled the boy over his shoulder.

“Hey asshole I can walk on my own two legs!” Yelled the boy, but Miles just ignored him.

He made it back to his room, and before he unlocked the door, he put Miles down, and when the door opened and the boy saw you a cry left his mouth.

“Sa’nok!” He yelled and ran towards you, and you immediately spread you arms out and embraced the boy tightly, before holding him at arm’s length and inspecting him from even the smallest wound.

“Spider, are you okay my son?” You said in Na’vi and hugged the boy tightly to you, nuzzling the top of his head.

“I’m fine Sa’nok, but I have missed you so much.”

“Oh, how I have missed you as well, my sweet, sweet boy.”

“Sorry to interrupt the happy reunion, but for safety reasons I would like to ask for you to speak English. I know you both can do it, so no excuses.” Miles hated to interrupt their happy reunion, but he needed to lay down some rules. “Another thing is that right now you in my room and the General has ordered me to keep an aye on you to 24/7, therefore you will also sleep in here with me. That means that we need to figure out some sleeping arrangements.” Miles went into the room and the door closed behind him, the boy curled tighter into his mother and hissed. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do anything. My suggestion is that I will take the floor and you two can take the bed.”

“What will you sleep on.” Asked (y/n), and he almost scoffed, he was a soldier, he had slept on harder surfaces and in freezing cold environments, the floor would not kill him.

“I’ll probably find some blankets and pillows around somewhere.”

“If there’s enough pillows and blankets to make it comfortable, then I would like to request for Spider and I to sleep on the floor, this bed is not that very comfortable considering what we have been sleeping in for the past 15 years.”

“Are you sure? We probably have enough pillows, given that every recom has a couple of spares and also spare blankets, but you shouldn’t feel forced to sleep on the floor. You need to be in an excellent condition, if you’re gonna be able to teach us.”

“I’m sure.”

“Well sure then.”

He had told every recom to give him their spare pillows and blankets, refusing to answer their questions, and he himself had found his spares. Then he had given them to his Darlin’, and she had immediately started working, with the boy running around helping with placing the pillows. And when you were done, he had to admit that it looked quite comfortable. A rumbling sound broke the silence, and he looked towards Miles and could see the boy blushing.

“You hungry kiddo?” He asked, and the boy nodded. “Well then I’ll go get you some food, besides it is dinnertime, and neither of you have eaten for hours now. I’ll be back in a while.” He said and left the two alone in his room. He needed some fresh air, the sight of the two of you nesting in his room, made something in him flutter. God this Na’vi body was gonna be troublesome to deal with.

Glossary:

Ikran -> Mountain Banshee

Sa’nok -> Mother

Taglist:

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