#i was so lazy with the clothes and tired so ignore them

[kwyoz]

i was about to snoreeee mimimimi but then i was imagining this hairstyle on wwx and sat up so fast to draw it.

[harmonysanreads]

hi harmy its me :3c ur son

anyways yeah,,, im back with brainrot,,,

and more about ouppy phainon!!! something about mighty warriors melting when you call them good boy scratches my brain in such a way YOU HAVE NO IDEAAA i will never forgive you for enabling this thought process btw this is all your fault /silly

AND AND AND,,, kitty anaxa,,,,, smirks i need to pet him vigorously until he gets annoyed and tries to bite my hand YOU GET ME,,, but it never works bc i will simply coo and pet him harder and call him even more obnoxious nicknames until he is forced to give up and accept my pets

petpetpetpetpetpetpetpet forever and ever and ever

You'll not deny, you've scarcely pondered the true weight of your position, your power.

At unpredictable intervals, between the pauses of your fingers weaving through his hair, in the shade away from the light of his gaze — it crosses your mind, briefly. That the hands that cling to the ends of your garbs are of no ordinary man's, the voice that prays your name is not one that'll be ignored in a crowd.

That despite how much he places himself beneath the shadow of reverence, the light of devotion in Phainon's eyes will remain ever incendiary.

“Tired?” you guess, cautious. He responds by burrowing deeper in your lap, his knees stop just before your ankles.

Your eyes settle on the tufts of ivory hair, they shy away as soon as your grip softens. It would not seem so to an eye that hasn't observed, but there is always a reason behind this particular behavior of his. Sensing his unwillingness to speak, you see fit to use your last option.

“Who's a good boy?” a zephyr carries to his ear, the sun peeks from behind translucent clouds.

“Me?” you can feel his nails dig into the hem of your chiton, his breaths at a halt — it'll gladly remain so until you command.

Your eyes search for a trace of your answer among the torches that light his abode, unsatisfied, “Where is my good boy?”

His clothes rustle as he straightens his back, before leaning fully towards your lap, “Here.” his admission is firmer than last time.

His eyes close in relief as you reward him by patting his head, much pleased at this development. You don't allow the sigh of solace to escape from the confines of your throat, indulging this interlude from the sun's attention.

Your eyes follow the journey of your fingers ; dodging the corner of his eyes, brushing past his cheeks, dipping towards the arch of his neck. Phainon cannot resist joining your observation, as your finger traces the gold of the choker wrapped around his neck, the tip of your nail teases the skin — before you withdraw altogether.

You laugh at your own trickery, not courageous enough to look back at Phainon's face.

Your indulgence is stopped short as you feel a familiar grip around your wrists, clasping wholly onto your palms and settling them back on Phainon's face.

Unlike before, there is strength in that grip — not enough to hurt, just enough to serve as a reminder of how worse it can get. You find your throat parched when you swallow, there's a veiled warning in those eyes of his.

Do you dare still, to wield this dangerous weapon?

“You really remind me of a cat, did you know?” you probe at the brooding scholar.

Anaxa takes a moment to digest the new piece of information, he's heard several unflattering monikers throughout his life. This one, even his brilliant mind nearly toppled over trying to decipher.

“That is quite insulting,” he mutters, glancing at you pointedly.

“How so?” you but lean over the tree, light dancing across your pupils.

“You're comparing a scholar and no ordinary scholar at that, to a mere feline. Is this you indirectly calling me lazy, or pointing out that my wisdom is insignificant compared to the intelligence of a c—”

“I love cats.” you stress, unflinching before his scorn.

The pupil of his visible eye darts across your smile, apparitions of neurons firing in his brain could almost be seen reflected on it. He parts his lips to speak, but closes them instantly, an absence of what he deems are the correct words being indicated.

You bite your lip to stifle the laughter bubbling in your chest.

With great effort he finally says, “So... what?” though his gaze is averted.

“So, I'm implying that,” your steps shrink the distance between you two.

“I adore you enough to compare you to cats.” Anaxa holds his arm out in defense, unfortunately for him, your proximity is close enough to reveal the blood that rushes to his cheeks.

“Nonsense—”

Taking advantage of his stupefaction, you hold two tufts of his hair and hold them in the shape of cat ears. Your giggle brings the scholar back to Amphoreus, he weakly attempts to swat you off but you take the opportunity to deliver a pinch to his cheeks.

A ‘hey!’ heavy with disbelief escapes him, his palm rises to cradle the teased skin. Rouge stains his cheeks.

“Okay okay, I'll stop.” you raise your arms in surrender. There are always unsaid limitation to a person's patience. You may indulge in testing where they cease, but even you know not to cross certain territories.

You spin on your heels to depart but a new interference introduces itself.

You don't recall Anaxa's grip being this strong, the thought passes as you feel his fingers dig into the curve of your waist. His chin settles on the dip of your shoulder, his breath warming the skin.

Perhaps, you shouldn't have teased him.

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Naruto boys random headcanons──☆*:・ﾟ

Sfw

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji����,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

Hes lazy at home. Not because he’s tired he just wants you to take care of him, but when you call him a baby for all these requests he gets mad “I AM NOT A BABY! I AM A GROWN MAN! NOW SPOON FEED ME!”

He tries to prank you but fails, your too smart to fall for it. He always tries to trip you in public while walking and every time he is the one on the floor and your the one laughing some how-

He likes the idea of drawing and being an artist he just can’t draw. He can only draw stick people with different hair, one time he tried to draw you, gave up and instead gave you a picture of a stick person with your hair. It’s now on the fridge LOL

He tries to act cool around his friend with you but just makes a fool of himself. “Yeah this my bae so what?” “Yeah I’m his bae and he’s my baby, my big, soft, smiley baby!” His soul is now crushed and his friends all laughing

He sleeps like a ANIMAL. he full on can’t sleep normally, You both go to bed the same time, one of you is always gunna wake up on the floor, mostly you. Then he wakes up like “why you on the floor?”

Sasuke🗡️-*

He may seem cool but he gets very flustered. He doesn’t cover his face though he just closes his eyes so he doesn’t get more flustered and so he can ignore the fact that he is red

He CANT Dance, don’t EVER take him dancing. It’s not because he’s bad at dancing he just never learn. If there is music he will bop his head to the beat though, if you try to get him to dance he will freak out and freeze. He just doesn’t like it ok!

His waist is weirdly sensitive, you could barely touch his waist and he will start giggling. He isn’t ticklish anywhere else but if you take a feather to his waist he will start LAUGHING

He will kick your feet when he wants attention. If you guys are out to dinner with friends he will kick you under the table to get your attention, he thinks it’s funny until you fight back and stomp on his foot. He made you kiss his pain away at home, atleast he got attention LOL

He forgets the silliest things one time he forgot how to tie a knot so anything he needs to tie like his clothes or shoes you had to do for him. You don’t know if he actually forgot or if he just wanted to be babied-

Itachi🥀-*

He can’t handle heatwaves. If it’s over 90 degrees he’s gone for. One time you woke up on a heat wave morning waiting for him to wake up and walk out but he never did, you went to find him and he was in bed, sprawled out, shirt and covers off soaked in sweat. You had to rub ice on him to get him conscious -

Unlike naruto, he likes drawing and can ACTUALLY DRAW, although he can only draw plants but he doesn’t mind he likes plants! He will draw you flowers instead of buying you some which is like equally as cute~

He has very sensitive eyes. Like how he can’t handle heat he cant handle the sun either. If it isn’t cloudy he will have to squint to keep his eyes from hurting. When you told him to wear sun glasses he said “I still want to see you clearly though love…”

He’s not a big fan of skin care but he likes those face roller things. He bought one just so you could use it on him, he likes that it’s cold but also massaging!

He sneezes like a girl- he has the cutest, most petite sneeze you’ve ever heard out of a man which is cute and very funny. He doesn’t even realize it either “a-choo!” “That was crazy out of character” “huh?”

Kakashi🍃-*

He’s allergic to cats, he likes cats sure but he never hangs around them because he’s allergic. You didn’t know that and one day you brought a stray inside and he instantly turned puffy (poor thing)

Once he gets home and discards the mask he puts lip tint on. He has pink lips for that reason. When he first puts it on he will find you and kiss you just to leave a mark before waiting 10 minutes then whipping it off

He needs reading glasses but never uses them, then complains to you when he gets a headache as if you didn’t tell him to put them on

He takes a lot of baths. If he showers it bound to end up a bath. And he doesn’t care if your using the bathroom if he wants a bath he’s gunna make a god Danm bath. One time You were just washing your face and he busted in the door and ran to the bathtub, You washed your face as fast as you could-

He is EXTREMELY tired when he first wakes up, he doesn’t move for like 20 minutes so if he needs to get up and do stuff your gunna have to make him, like actually you’ll have the carry him out of bed.

Kiba🐺-*

He bites his nails from stress so you have made it a habit to smack his hand away when he does. It worked since all you have to do is tap him softly and he will stop. He’s so glad you help him get over bad habits

He decorated akamarus ears when he’s bored, one time you walk in on him giggling like a little girl and akamarus ears were pulled together in a little ponytail! You joined in on the fun🤞

He comes back from a casual walk along a complete mess, you have no idea how but one day he came back with half a bush stuck on his leg. He always cleans up though!

He sometimes transforms akamaru into himself to prank his friends or you, mostly you. One time akamaru came up to you as Kiba and started licking your face “EW OH MY GOD?!” “AUUFF AUF!” “KIBA YOUR NOT FUNNY”

He always has tan cheeks and nose. Compared to the rest of his face, his cheeks are cute and golden!

Shikamaru🀄️-*

He lets you win at intelligents based games to make you feel better. Except one time he actually tried and lost. He’s convinced you cheated

His hair is straight but gets very frizzy if not cared for. (You care for it since he’s lazyy)

He draws on himself when bored, mostly just trippy designs like swirls and stuff. Will also let you draw on him, only if your good tho he doesn’t want “bad drawing” on him😔

He has a box FULL of hair ties and will notice if you take one. “This one you literally stole from me?” “Don’t care put it back!!!”

He gets Freezingly cold at night, like really really cold. When he snuggles up to you to warm up you could feel how cold he really is and you don’t understand how since you are both under covers-

Shino🪲-*

He keeps bugs in the house so they can watch over anything, they are basically his security cameras-

His hair is so cute and wavy! Also gets very frizzy because of the texture like Shika. He also makes you take care of it, he just really likes you touching his hair

He gives you bugs as gifts, not like freaky beetles but cute little bugs like lady bugs or fuzzy green caterpillars. You find it cute that he gives you things that mean so much to him

He shockingly has a sensitive neck, only to you though. Bugs can crawl all over it and he doesn’t move but if you try to kiss it he gets chills. Also shockingly he has really soft skin idk maybe he sheds skin (IM JOKING)

When he gets home and can finally undress he lets you take his glasses off since you love his eyes and he loves that you love them. He gets insecure about it sometimes!

Neji🎋-*

He speak really highly and intelligently but he’s honestly a little dumb sometimes, or maybe he’s just dumb with you to be silly we don’t know

The only jewelry he really wears is an ankle bracelet you got him

He loves hair charms, he likes decorating his hair! He likes putting clips and braids in it, sometimes even put color streaks in it if he wants to be festive

He really likes pottery and making things out of clay, he’s very creative and he finds clay the perfect outlet. He even makes pots for you!

He has a flower garden that NO ONE is allowed in. He treats them like they’re his baby’s, because they are! He’s favorite plant he has is his cactuses.

Lee🥋-*

He’s extremely energetic and powerful yet he has asthma, he denies it. But if it’s really hot outside he runs out of breath REALLY fast which makes you worry

He’s scared of spiders you kill the spiders for him or he runs! If you trap a spider and chase him with it he will almost start crying (he will start crying) he’s ashamed to admit spiders are his weakness

He wears mascara, he gotta make them lashes voluminous yk. He stole his mascara from tenten too. You made him give it back to her and bought him his own

It’s pretty obvious but he is FLEXIBLE! Backbend, splits anything he can do. You thought he broke his spine onces-

He’s not much of a plant guy but he has the TINIEST succulent in your room that he cares for, every other plant he has had died but not that one~

Choji🍥-*

He loves finger painting and is actually really good at it, you’d think it was made by a professional and an actual paint brush but no it was Choji and his finger paint😭

His hair is so thick most hair ties he uses break. He has to use hair needles instead because it’s the only thing that holds if he wants his hair up for a while

He thinks pillow fights are actually entertaining he could have a pillow fight with you all day and never get bored. He goes crazy if he’s over at someone’s house and they suggest pillow fights!

He loves bath bombs!!! He basically died when you run him a bath and put bath bombs in it, his favorite scent it lavender. Even if you didn’t add a bath bomb he loves when you make him baths he thinks its adorable

He paints your cheeks like his in your sleep, that’s his idea of a prank even though it’s basically him just being a cutie “look now your like me y/n!!”

Gaara⏳-*

He turns the black rings around his eyes to cat eyes sometimes. He looks ADORABLE with cat eyes. He sometimes even uses eye shadow too, if he can’t change it he thought might as well make it look cutee

He’s scared of mosquitos, he just doesn’t like bugs that can fly and go after human blood it freaks him out

He wears one of those scent bracelets and puts your signature scent in it so he always smells like you~

He gifts you plants all the time

He collect the silliest things, there are these cute little cat charms at a near by store and he’s working on collecting them all!

Kankuro🪆-*

Shockingly he really likes reading. He likes fiction books the most, he asks you for suggestions

He asks you what new make up design he should try, sometimes he just gives you the brush and lets you go wild. But you always make him look cute~

He fidgets with the ears on his hat when he’s bored. It rubbed off on you so now if he’s around you with his hat on you start messing with them-

He steals your clothes and hides them so you have no choice but to ask to use his for the day. After the day is over he comes up to you smiling and hands you your missing clothes “found em!” “By found em do you mean took them out of the hiding spot?” “Yeah-”

He paints his nails either black, pink or purple. He also lets you paint them, it honestly just ends up a mess. He would totally whip nail polishes on your nose~

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Godly Things | Chapter 21 Chapter 21 | venus rising⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

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You woke with a gasp.

Your chest heaved, lungs dragging in air like you had been drowning. Your body jolted upright before your mind caught up, heart hammering so hard it echoed in your ears.

Something was wrong.

Your skin was damp, a faint sheen of sweat clinging to your brow despite the cool air seeping in from the open window. Your breathing was uneven, shuddering. When you reached up to wipe your face, your fingers came away wet.

Tears.

You blinked rapidly, swiping them away with the heel of your hand, confusion tightening your throat. You weren't crying—at least, you didn't think you were. But the evidence was there, clinging to your lashes, trailing down your cheeks.

Why?

No nightmare lingered. No fragmented memory. No reason for this hollow weight pressing against yoribs—s, heavy and unshakable.

You swallowed hard, forcing it down. It had to be exhaustion.

Last night—Apollo—the endless music, the warmth of his presence, the way his voice wrapped around you like sunlight. Maybe it had drained you more than you realized.

That had to be it.

Letting out a slow breath, you swung your legs over the bed, pressing your feet to the cool floor to ground yourself. The lingering haze clung to your mind as you stretched, muscles heavier than usual—but not unpleasantly so.

Moving toward the water basin in the corner, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the polished bronze mirror.

You looked... different.

Not in any obvious way. But something about the morning light—it kissed your skin, lingered a little too long, like it knew you. Like it belonged to you.

You shook the thought away.

Instead, you focused on the familiar routine of washing up, letting the cold water shock your system awake. As you dressed, an unconscious hum slipped from your lips.

A hymn.

To Apollo.

Your fingers stilled on the fabric of your tunic, the sound of your own voice catching you off guard. You hadn't meant to hum it. Hadn't even thought about it. Yet it had come so naturally.

A warmth settled in your chest—gentle, knowing.

You ignored it, shaking the feeling off as you adjusted your clothes and made your way to the door. Whatever last night had meant, it was over. It was morning, and you had things to do.

Taking a steadying breath, you pulled open the door—

Only to nearly walk straight into Callias.

The two of you froze, eyes locking in mutual surprise.

Callias stood mid-motion, one hand raised as if about to knock, the other balancing a small wooden tray. A simple meal rested on top—freshly cut fruit, a bit of cheese, some olives. The kind of food you might have grabbed between chores or on the way to the queen's chambers.

You blinked. He blinked back.

A beat of silence stretched between you before Callias let out a quiet chuckle, a lopsided grin pulling at his lips.

"Well, hello, sleepyhead," he teased, tilting his head slightly. "What made you so tired?"

The question caught you off guard. Your mind scrambled for an answer—one that made sense because how could you possibly explain it? That you'd spent the night with Apollo himself, playing for him, singing for him, lost in melodies that dimmed the stars?

So instead, you settled for something vague.

"You wouldn't believe me," you muttered, shaking your head.

Callias raised an eyebrow, smirk deepening. "Wouldn't I?" he challenged, leaning against the doorframe, eyes glinting with lazy amusement. "You were asleep almost all day."

Your breath caught.

"...What?"

Callias laughed, clearly amused by your reaction. "Yeah, it's almost noon," he said casually, shifting the tray so he could gesture toward the hallway.

The words hit like a stone sinking in water, dragging down into something deep and unsteady.

Noon?

You had gone to sleep just before dawn—only a few hours ago. At least, that's what you thought. You remembered the sky still dark when you finally lay down, Apollo's presence still lingering as you drifted off.

And now... it was noon?

You must have frozen completely because Callias chuckled again, though this time, curiosity edged into his amusement.

"Yeah, you were out," he continued. "But no worries. Prince Telemachus told the king and queen at breakfast that you'd be taking the morning off, so no one's disturbed you."

Telemachus?

Your thoughts whirled, struggling to keep up. You hadn't asked for the morning off. But... he had done it for you? Had gone out of his way to make sure no one expected anything from you after last night?

Something warm and strange settled in your chest, but it was quickly buried beneath the lingering shock.

"Are you okay?" Callias asked, his teasing tone dipping into something softer.

You forced a nod, though your thoughts still spun. "Yeah... just—didn't realize how tired I was."

Not a lie. Not entirely.

Callias studied you for a beat, sharp eyes scanning like he was debating whether to pry. But then, just as quickly, his usual carefree grin returned as he held out the tray. "Well, here, eat something. You probably need it after hibernating."

You took the tray with a small nod of thanks, though your mind was still sluggish, trying to catch up. So much had happened—Apollo, Cleo, your parents, everything—and yet, in reality, it had all been just one day.

The realization made your head spin.

Your body still carried the exhaustion of the Underworld, the weight of divine revelation pressing into your bones. Time had been strange since you entered the Underworld, slipping through your fingers like sand. But even then, you had never slept for so long.

"Anyway, I actually came to tell you about Venus tonight." Callias' grin widened, eyes gleaming with excitement.

You blinked, thrown by the shift. "Venus?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his enthusiasm infectious. "It'll be at its brightest tonight. The whole town is talking about it. Perfectly clear skies, the kind of thing you have to see." Your fingers tightened slightly around the tray as something twisted deep in your chest—not unpleasant, but unexpected.

Venus.

A memory surfaced unbidden, breaking through the fog.

"Tomorrow night, Venus will be at its brightest," Telemachus had said, voice quieter than usual. "It lights up the sky like a beacon. I... was thinking—if you'd like, you could... join me?"

The way he had looked at you then—hopeful, hesitant—made your heart clench.

But before you could answer, Andreia had appeared.

Her presence had shattered the moment, her voice dripping with familiarity as she touched Telemachus' arm, claiming his attention like it was hers to take. He had turned to her, torn between duty and whatever had just passed between you.

And just like that, the offer had been swept away.

You had almost forgotten. Or maybe you had forced yourself to.

Callias' voice pulled you back to the present before you could spiral too deep.

"I was thinking we could go together," he said, his eagerness cutting through the weight pressing in your chest. "It's supposed to be stunning, and I don't want to go alone."

You hesitated, emotions warring inside you.

A part of you—a small, ugly part—wanted to refuse. To lock yourself away in your room and ignore the ache curling inside your chest. To pretend none of this mattered.

But another part of you—the part that refused to let Andreia's callousness dictate your choices—wanted to go.

What did it matter if Telemachus was watching Venus with Andreia?

What did it really matter?

You looked up at Callias, his expectant expression so open, so easy. Unlike Telemachus, who carried the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders, Callias was light. No burdens, no expectations. Just here, grinning at you like nothing was complicated at all.

And maybe, for tonight, you needed that.

You took a breath, shoving the ache of Telemachus and Andreia down. Letting it settle beneath the surface.

"Alright," you said, forcing a small smile. "I'll go."

Callias' grin widened, his whole face lighting up. "Perfect! I'll meet you in the square after sunset."

You nodded, watching as he stepped back with an easy wave before disappearing down the corridor, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The tray in your hands felt heavier than before.

Exhaling slowly, you closed the door behind you and turned back into your room.

For the first time in what felt like days, you had plans. Not with Telemachus. Not with duty pressing against your back.

But with someone who simply wanted to enjoy the stars.

And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly what you needed.

☆

☆

As the day stretched on, you noticed something felt off.

It wasn't something you could name—not fully.

It started the moment you woke, lingering at the edges of your mind like the remnants of a dream you couldn't quite grasp. The air felt heavier, the familiar scents of the palace—sea salt, aged stone, fresh linens—were sharper, more defined, as if you were experiencing them for the first time.

At first, you brushed it off—exhaustion, the weight of yesterday, your mind still catching up to the reality that had shifted beneath your feet.

But as the hours passed, the feeling didn't fade.

If anything, it grew stronger.

Every sound, every color, every sensation felt amplified, as if you had been seeing the world through a veil this entire time, and now, without warning, it had been ripped away.

Something had changed.

You had changed.

But you couldn't explain how.

And you weren't sure if you were ready to.

The sky had darkened by the time you made your way down to the courtyard, the last streaks of twilight fading into the deep indigo of night. Stars pricked through the heavens like scattered embers, and in the east, Venus shone the brightest—a beacon against the endless dark.

You exhaled, wrapping your shawl tighter around your shoulders.

Tonight was simple. Meet Callias. Watch Venus. Let the night be just a night.

This was fine. You were fine.

You weren't thinking about the way Apollo had looked at you like you were his to cherish, weren't thinking about the way Telemachus had asked you to see Venus with him, only for Andreia to steal that moment away.

No. You weren't thinking about any of that.

Tonight was different.

Tonight, you had Callias.

And yet, as you approached the courtyard, your steps slowed.

Something stirred in the distance.

Not Callias—not yet.

Beyond the stone archway, at the entrance to the palace grounds, a small caravan was being prepared.

Horses shifted under the weight of their bridles, their breath visible in the cool night air. Royal attendants moved with practiced efficiency, adjusting saddles, tightening straps, securing supplies. Lanterns flickered, casting long, wavering shadows against the stone walls.

You didn't have to wonder who it was for.

Then, you saw them.

Telemachus and Andreia stood just beyond the main path, illuminated by the soft golden glow of the torches.

Your breath hitched—just for a moment.

She stood close to Telemachus. Too close.

Her fingers barely grazed his arm, but the touch lingered. She was speaking, head tilted just so, lips curved in an easy, confident smile. The way she looked at him—like she knew she was the center of his attention, like she expected it—made your stomach churn.

But it was Telemachus' expression that truly caught you.

He wasn't smiling.

His posture was stiff, hands clasped tightly in front of him. He nodded as she spoke, but his gaze flickered—to the ground, to the attendants, to the caravan. Anywhere but her.

Anywhere but here.

It was the same look he wore when he was enduring something he didn't want but knew he couldn't refuse.

You should have looked away.

You should have kept walking, let the night unfold as it was meant to—without letting yourself drown in the weight of something you couldn't change.

But you didn't.

Something about them—the almost-blue of her dress, the tension in his shoulders, the way the torches illuminated them like a portrait painted in gold—held you there.

This was what could have been yours.

But it wasn't.

Not anymore.

A cool breeze brushed past, making you pull your shawl tighter, and for the briefest moment, you let yourself feel it.

The ache.

The loss.

The quiet, unbearable knowing that whatever had existed between you and Telemachus—that unspoken, fragile thing—was now on the verge of shambles.

And then—

"___!"

The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, light and familiar.

You turned, blinking quickly as Callias strode into view, his usual easy grin in place. He looked effortlessly put together, as always—his brown curls tousled from the wind, a thin gold chain catching the torchlight at his throat.

Behind you, the caravan began to move—horses led forward, wheels creaking against the stone path as the procession disappeared into the night.

Telemachus and Andreia turned as well, their figures half-illuminated in the shifting glow.

And for just a second—a single, fleeting second—Telemachus' gaze found yours.

Your breath caught.

Something flickered across his face—something unreadable, something buried too deep to name.

But then, just as quickly, he looked away, shifting his attention back to Andreia as she spoke.

And that was that.

Callias came to a stop beside you, watching the caravan fade into the dark before turning back to you with an amused tilt of his head.

"You were staring," he noted, teasing but light. "Do I even need to ask why?"

You swallowed, forcing a small, dismissive smile. "Not at all."

He studied you for a moment, his usual playfulness tempered by something quieter, more knowing. But whatever he wanted to say, he held back. Instead, he threw an arm over your shoulders, tugging you lightly toward the garden terraces.

"Good thing I'm here to rescue you from your thoughts," he said cheerfully. "Come on, we have stars to see. And I, for one, refuse to let you mope under a sky this clear."

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head, and fell into step beside him.

The night stretched before you, open and endless, the sky above glittering with stars.

.☆.       .✩.            .☆.

By the time you and Callias reached the stargazing spot, both of you were panting slightly, the climb steeper than expected. The winding paths of Ithaca weren't anything new to you, but under the cover of night—with the occasional loose stone threatening to send you tumbling—it felt far more treacherous than it should have.

Callias let out a dramatic huff beside you, swiping his curls away from his forehead with the back of his hand. "You know," he started, breath coming in short bursts, "for an island, Ithaca sure has an ungodly amount of hills."

You let out a breathless laugh. "One would think being surrounded by the sea would make it flatter," you teased, shaking your head.

"Exactly!" Callias threw his hands up. "Mountains? Fine. Valleys? Sure. But this?" He gestured vaguely at the incline you'd just conquered, his frustration exaggerated enough to make you laugh again.

The cool night air brushed against your skin, and as you finally lifted your gaze, the sight before you made the ache in your legs seem like a small price to pay.

The stargazing area had been arranged with far more preparation than you'd expected. Ithaca, despite its deep-rooted love for land and sky, didn't typically host large stargazing gatherings. Most preferred quiet moments, watching from their own homes, sharing the night with close friends or family.

But this—this was different.

The clearing had been carefully prepared, no doubt orchestrated by Andreia herself. Blankets covered the grass while small wooden trays sat between each seating arrangement, filled with fresh figs, olives, and honeyed almonds.

Lanterns lined the outskirts, casting a warm, flickering glow—just enough to move around without overpowering the brilliance of the stars.

Already, a handful of servants from both Bronte and Ithaca had settled in, chatting in hushed voices, adjusting their seats. Others lingered by the edges, watching as the last of the caravan settled into place.

It was beautiful, you had to admit, even if it left a strange weight in your chest.

Your gaze instinctively drifted skyward, drawn by habit and expectation. But instead of the vast, glittering expanse of stars you had imagined, drifting clouds veiled the heavens. The familiar constellations flickered faintly behind them, their shapes blurred and broken, swallowed and revealed in slow-moving patterns.

It wasn't unusual for clouds to pass through, but it felt almost... untimely. As though the heavens had drawn a curtain over something you were meant to see.

Your lips parted slightly, brows knitting as you scanned the sky, searching—searching for the one light you had been waiting for.

Venus should have been visible by now.

Yet, for a long, stretching moment, it was nowhere to be found.

A pang of disappointment nudged at your ribs, though you weren't sure why. It was just a planet, just another celestial body tracing its path through the heavens. And yet...

"Don't tell we crawled up this hill for a cloudy sky," Callias groaned beside you, following your gaze with a half-hearted glare at the heavens. He crossed his arms, tapping his fingers against his sleeve. "If Venus is hiding after all that effort, I'm taking it as a personal betrayal."

You let out a small, breathy laugh, though your fingers unconsciously tightened at your sides.

"Just wait," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "It'll show."

Callias barely gave you a moment before grabbing your wrist, tugging you toward a group already seated near the edge of the gathering. "C'mon," he grinned, excitement buzzing in his tone. "There are a few people I want you to meet."

You let him lead you, weaving through clusters of people, careful not to step too close to the edge of the hill.

Your nerves kicked in when you realized where he was taking you—to a Brontean group, already settled comfortably in a small circle.

Three figures—two women and one man—looked up as Callias approached, their faces illuminated by the soft lantern glow.

The first woman, a foreign-looking girl with deep brown skin framed by a golden-wrapped headscarf, was the first to notice you. Her dark eyes flickered with curiosity, lips twitching in amusement as she nudged the girl beside her.

The second woman—lighter in complexion, black curls tumbling over her shoulders, an air of quiet confidence around her—lifted her gaze from a bowl of figs, sharp blue eyes assessing you quickly.

The man, broad-shouldered with a trimmed beard and golden rings adorning his fingers, smirked as Callias approached.

"If it isn't Ithaca's favorite socialite," he teased, shifting slightly to make room.

Callias rolled his eyes but grinned, tugging you closer. "Everyone, this is ____, the newest addition to my very selective circle of friends."

The woman with the golden scarf hummed, tilting her head. "So this is the one Callias won't shut up about," she mused. "Well, aren't you a pretty lamb ready for slaughter?"

You blinked, caught off guard, while Callias groaned dramatically, shooting her an unimpressed look.

"Asta, that's not how we greet people."

The woman—Asta—shrugged, entirely unbothered. "I think it is."

The dark-haired woman smirked, leaning forward. "You have been talking about her a lot, Cal," she admitted, popping a fig into her mouth.

Callias nudged her foot. "I do have other things to talk about, you know."

"Sure," the man chuckled. "Like wine. And how much you hate horses."

Callias narrowed his eyes. "You're all terrible. Scooch over, we're sitting."

With a dramatic sigh, Asta made room, and Callias pulled you down beside him, flashing you a quick wink before turning back to the group.

The dark-haired woman studied you for a moment before offering a smooth smile. "I'm Lysandra," she introduced herself. "Lady Andreia's personal attendant."

Your breath hitched slightly, but you nodded, keeping your expression neutral.

Lysandra seemed to catch your hesitation because she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Don't worry," she murmured, amusement flickering in her gaze. "I'm not here to test your loyalty or anything. Honestly, I'm just here for the stars and good company."

You offered a small smile, though your stomach still twisted uncomfortably.

Beside her, the man stretched, letting out a small sigh as he adjusted the rings on his fingers.

"And I'm Kieran," he said. "Bronte's Treasury Overseer and resident merchant-troublemaker. Whatever you need, I can find it—for a price, of course." His grin was easygoing, but his eyes were sharp, something calculated beneath the charm.

"And I," Asta cut in, her accent unfamiliar, "am just Asta. No fancy titles, no noble houses. Just a wandering soul who somehow ended up in Bronte."

You nodded, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sheer presence of them all.

Callias, sensing your nerves, nudged you lightly.

"Relax," he whispered. "They don't bite." He paused, side-eyeing Asta, who merely raised an eyebrow. "Most of them don't."

That pulled a small, reluctant laugh from you, easing some of the tension in your chest.

Kieran, always one to seize an opportunity, leaned back on his hands with a grin. "So, Callias," he drawled, stretching his legs out in front of him. "What exactly have you been up to? It feels like we haven't seen you in ages."

Callias scoffed, waving him off. "You literally saw me earlier today. At lunch. And at dinner."

Asta snorted, shaking her head. "You mean we saw you grab a bite before immediately disappearing."

Lysandra smirked, adding in smoothly. "And even when you do stay, you can't stop talking about your new bestie." She glanced at you teasingly, amusement glimmering in her green eyes. "It's honestly kind of cute."

You blinked, caught between mild shock and embarrassment. Callias? Talking about you?

Callias groaned loudly, tossing his head back in dramatic exasperation. "Oh, for the love of the gods—" He shot Lysandra a playfully betrayed look. "You're all just mad I finally found someone who appreciates my charm."

Asta smirked. "Or someone who hasn't yet figured out how exhausting you are."

Laughter rippled through the group, warm and easy, and despite the lingering tension in your chest, you couldn't help but smile.

Callias placed a hand over his heart, dramatically wounded. "If this is how you're gonna treat me, then I'm leaving."

"No, you're not," Kieran said, rolling his eyes. "You wouldn't dare leave your bestie behind."

Callias grumbled something under his breath, but his grin gave him away. He leaned back onto his elbows, shaking his head in mock defeat.

Asta, still watching you with sharp curiosity, tilted her head. "So, ____," she said, smoothly bringing you into the conversation. "What's it like working under Ithaca's rule?"

Kieran perked up beside her, nudging Lysandra with his elbow. "Yeah! How's the pay? I might switch over."

Lysandra swatted his arm without looking. "You wouldn't last a week in Ithaca."

You smiled, feeling a little more at ease. "It's... not bad," you admitted, adjusting the fabric of your tunic as you as you considered your answer. "The royal family is warmer than most would expect."

Asta arched a brow, intrigued. "Warmer, huh?"

You nodded. "It wasn't always like this," you said, your voice softening in thought. "Before King Odysseus returned, things were... tense. The palace felt like it was holding its breath. The queen was strong, but the suitors brought uncertainty. It was hard to feel secure."

Your fingers traced absent patterns into your sleeve. "But ever since the king came home, things have been different. There's a new kind of peace in Ithaca. He's fair but firm. He sees people, not just titles."

Kieran hummed, considering. "Not bad," he mused. "Maybe I should switch over."

Lysandra groaned and flicked an olive at him. He barely dodged it. "Oh, shut up."

Then, she turned her gaze toward you, curiosity glinting in her eyes. "So, ____, what's he really like?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "Who?"

"The great King Odysseus, of course," she clarified. "Word of his return spread all the way to Bronte. Everyone was talking about it—the king who defeated death itself to come home."

Asta hummed in agreement. "It's a big reason why we're here, actually. Along with the whole Prince Andros situation, of course."

At the mention of Andros, a shadow flickered across Kieran's face before he scoffed.

"The 'Andros situation'—what a polite fucking way to put it," he muttered, voice edged with sarcasm. He stretched his legs out, leaning back on his hands. "More like the clean-up of a fool. Serves him right."

Asta shot him a warning look. "Careful," she said, voice even but pointed. "Someone might overhear and snitch to the princess."

Kieran rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. We're not in Bronte, Asta. What's she gonna do? Have me executed in Ithaca?"

Asta arched a brow, adjusting her seat. "No. But the way she's moving... she might find a way eventually."

Kieran's smirk faded into a scowl. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "Yeah. What a fast one, the princess is," he muttered, irritation laced through his voice.

Then, his sharp gaze flicked to you.

"Speaking of which," he said, tilting his head. "What have you heard on your end?"

You blinked. "Pardon?"

Kieran leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with intrigue. "C'mon. We're not gonna snitch. I just mean, what rumors have you heard? About Princess Andreia? About your prince?" he urged, tilting his head toward the clearing, subtly motioning with his hand.

Your chest tightened at the phrasing—your prince—before following his gesture, your gaze landing on the opposite side of the clearing, where the best seats for stargazing had been arranged.

Andreia sat in a broad wooden chair—one brought just for her—an ornate cushion beneath her to keep her comfortable on the rocky ground. She was speaking to Telemachus, lips curved into an easy, knowing smile. Her hands moved lightly as she spoke, graceful, practiced, but her expression betrayed little true emotion.

Telemachus, however, wasn't looking at her.

His face remained calm, polite. But his eyes were already fixed skyward, waiting for the clouds to part and reveal Venus. His fingers tapped absently against his knee, his mind clearly elsewhere.

You weren't sure why you kept watching him. Maybe it was the way his expression barely changed, the way his body sat there—composed, proper—while his hands betrayed his thoughts. The rhythmic tapping against his knee, the quiet inhale through his nose every few moments, the way his shoulders never fully relaxed despite Andreia's presence.

As if a memory had been scraped to the surface, Callias' words returned with startling clarity.

"One of Andreia's personal attendants let something slip... Apparently, she's been in talks to form political alliances between Bronte and Ithaca."

Your stomach tightened.

How long had it been since he told you that? A week? A day? Less? Everything that had happened—the Underworld, Apollo, your own unraveling—had swallowed your focus so completely that you had forgotten.

Just how much had she accomplished in that time?

Had she already planted her roots deeper into Ithaca's court? Had she secured her place by his side while you were tangled in your own problems, failing to notice?

Your fingers curled slightly against the fabric of your tunic.

What has she gained while I wasn't paying attention?

The thought made your skin crawl.

Not because of duty. Not because of political maneuvering—those had always existed, always shaped the lives of the powerful.

No, what unsettled you was Andreia herself.

"...the way she's moving... she might find a way eventually."

Asta's words echoed fresh in your mind, sharp and foreboding.

And the truth was, she was right.

Andreia wasn't just here to bask in Ithaca's hospitality. She wasn't lingering at Telemachus' side out of passing interest.

She was moving.

Every smile, every carefully placed word, every touch Telemachus never stopped—she was shifting the board, playing the game.

Your lips pressed into a thin line as your gaze lingered on her.

The dress she wore tonight was a lighter seafoam blue, not green—a color closer to Ithaca's than Bronte's. A subtle change, but deliberate. A symbol of someone adjusting, assimilating. She was embedding herself within Ithaca's court, reshaping her image to make it easier for others to see her as belonging here.

Beside its prince.

Your eyes flicked back to him.

His hands had gone still, resting idly against his knee. His face was polite, but distant.

Waiting for the clouds to move.

Not looking at her.

Your grip loosened slightly.

For all of Andreia's efforts, for all of her presence—

Telemachus was not looking at her.

He was looking up.

And for just a moment, you let yourself believe—maybe Asta was wrong.

Maybe, no matter how much Andreia tried to weave herself into his world, she would never truly have him.

You opened your mouth, ready to answer Kieran—to say something, maybe that you weren't sure, that you hadn't heard anything worth repeating.

But before you could get a word out—

A half-eaten fig flew across the blanket and smacked Kieran in the shoulder.

"Gods, do you lot even know how to ask a normal question?" Callias huffed, stretching out lazily as if he hadn't just launched fruit at someone. "What ever happened to 'Hey, ____! What'' your favorite color?' Or 'Wow, that's a nice shawl, where'd you get it?' You know—questions that don't make people think they're about to be interrogated."

Kieran let out an exaggerated sigh, dramatically rubbing his shoulder as if the fig had done any real damage. "Callias, you are insufferable."

"Selfish,"Lysandra agreed, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

"So selfish," Asta echoed, plucking the remains of the fig from where it had rolled onto the blanket and tossing it at Callias in retaliation. He dodged effortlessly, flashing them a smug grin.

"You're all just mad that I have social skills," Callias shot back, wagging a finger at them.

"You mean the skills of an annoying little brother," Lysandra muttered.

Kieran rolled his eyes and turned back to you. "This is the first Ithacan servant we've actually had a chance to talk to since being here—ever—and he want us to waste time with trivial nonsense?" He shot Callias a pointed look before glancing back at you. "I, for one, think we should make good use of the opportunity."

That... surprised you.

"You've... never spoken to any of the other servants?" you asked, hesitantly. "Is it... forbidden?"

The moment the words left your lips, the energy around the group shifted. A brief, noticeable silence settled, the once-playful air turning heavier, more serious.

Asta was the first to break it. "Not explicitly," she admitted, rolling a small olive between her fingers. "But it's an unwritten rule for Brontes not to be too communicative with outsiders."

Lysandra nodded, leaning back on her hands. "It's about presenting an image—one of strength, unity. The less our servants talk, the more disciplined and devoted our homeland appears to others. It's..." She hesitated, then settled on, "A way to maintain control, I suppose."

Kieran, however, scoffed loudly, completely unimpressed. "It's bullshit is what it is. The whole thing's designed to make us miserable. Keeps us longing for home, thinking about how much better we had it before leaving." His jaw tensed slightly, and for the first time since meeting him, there was no teasing in his voice—just frustration.

Asta arched a brow, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. "You've been awfully bold lately, Kieran." She propped her chin on her hand, eyes gleaming with amusement. "What happened to the perfect, quiet little merchant's son from Bronte?"

Kieran shot her an unimpressed glare. "He got a taste of freedom—of Ithaca—and now he's got a spine," he retorted dryly. Then, as if flipping a switch, his expression brightened.

"Oh! Tadros is passing out wine!"

He practically jolted upright, pointing toward the far end of the clearing before turning to Lysandra and tugging her arm. "Come on! Let's go before all the good stuff's gone!"

Lysandra rolled her eyes, though a faint smile played at her lips. "Fine, you child," she muttered, already getting to her feet.

Asta followed suit, stretching her arms above her head. "I'll help carry enough back for everyone," she said before shooting a smirk at Kieran. "Not that you'd be any help with that."

"You wound me," Kieran gasped, clutching his chest dramatically before grinning and leading the way toward the group of Bronte servants gathered around the wine.

As they walked off, you exhaled slowly, the weight of the conversation still lingering. The laughter and chatter faded into the background, leaving only the quiet hum of the night and the distant murmur of the gathering around the wine.

You turned toward Callias, curiosity—and unease—pressing against your chest too strongly to ignore.

"Is it really true?" you asked, voice quieter now that it was just the two of you. "That Bronte's servants aren't allowed to speak to Ithacans?"

Callias glanced at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

"Yeah, it's true," he admitted. "At least, that's how it's supposed to be."

Leaning back on his hands, he tilted his head toward the sky, his face thoughtful. "But I've never been one to stick to all the rules—especially not when the princess herself is out here making 'alliances.'" His lips curled into a knowing smirk, but there was something else behind it. Something tired.

His words made your stomach twist. You hesitated before asking carefully, "Have you... gotten into trouble because of... me?"

The smirk faltered—just for a second. It was quick, barely noticeable, but you caught it before he forced an easy grin back into place.

He shrugged, brushing invisible dust from his tunic as if the question meant nothing. "Of course not," he said lightly. "Like Kieran said, what could she do to us here? This isn't Bronte."

For some reason, you didn't believe him.

But instead of pressing the issue, you simply nodded in quiet acceptance. Maybe it was better not to know.

A flicker of movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. A Bronte servant approached, their steps quick but measured, head slightly bowed as they reached Callias.

"The princess has requested your presence," they said in a hushed voice. "She wants you near her... and to play the panpipes."

A brief, loaded silence followed.

Callias didn't move at first, absorbing the words. Then, without hesitation, he gave a short nod. "Of course," he said, voice neutral. The servant inclined their head and disappeared back into the gathering like a shadow.

Once they were gone, Callias let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Well. That's that," he muttered, exhaling sharply before turning back to you. "Sorry, ____."

"You don't have to apologize, Callias," you assured him, offering a small smile. "She would've noticed you were here sooner or later anyway."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if debating whether to say something more. Then, instead of dwelling on it, he grinned—though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You're right," he said. "Still—kind of a shame. I was having fun."

You chuckled softly. "Me too."

Callias stood, stretching his arms above his head before rolling out his shoulders. "Tell you what," he said, glancing down at you with a playful tilt of his head. "Tomorrow, let's hang out. No princess, no obligations—just a normal, rule-breaking Bronte servant and his new bestie."

The casual way he said it made you smile. "Alright," you agreed, nudging his foot with yours. "Tomorrow, then."

His grin widened before he took a step back. "Great. I'll come find you."

With that, he turned, heading toward the main gathering—toward Andreia, who was waiting.

You watched him go, the easy energy he always carried feeling just a little heavier tonight. As he disappeared into the crowd, you let out a small breath, shaking off the weight of it all.

Tomorrow.

That was something to look forward to.

But tonight wasn't over just yet.

Before you could dwell too much on Callias' departure, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled you back to the present.

Kieran, Lysandra, and Asta returned, carrying a few clay cups of wine between them. Kieran was the first to plop down beside you, exhaling like he'd just completed some impossible task. Lysandra and Asta followed, setting down a small flask with the remaining wine.

Asta's sharp eyes swept over the circle, immediately picking up on the absence.

"Where's Callias?" she asked, brow furrowing.

You hesitated, then sighed. "Princess Andreia sent for him."

That was all it took for the mood to drop.

Asta's mouth tightened into a thin line. Kieran scoffed, shaking his head as he handed you a cup of wine, and Lysandra sighed heavily, settling in beside Asta.

Kieran took a swig from his cup, grumbling, "Figures. The four of us finally get some time together, and she takes him. As always." He rubbed a hand down his face, exasperated.

Asta hummed in agreement. "It's no different than back home," she said, swirling her wine before taking a small sip. She turned to Lysandra. "Does she ever talk about why she loves picking on Callias so much?"

Lysandra frowned, clearly considering the question before shaking her head. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "Since we've come to Ithaca, I haven't been as close to her. It's not like before."

Kieran clicked his tongue. "Bet she caught on," he muttered, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Or another servant ratted them out. You know how Bronte royals are when they travel. They love pitting their servants against each other."

His words struck something in you, but before you could dwell on it, his gaze flickered to you. His expression softened slightly, the usual sharpness easing.

"Hey," he said, nudging your arm with his elbow. "I just wanna say—if we made you uncomfortable earlier, I'm sorry. We can be... a bit much."

You blinked, then quickly shook your head. "No, it's alright. I wasn't uncomfortable," you reassured, offering a small smile. "It was nice... getting to talk to others."

Lysandra tilted her head, watching you for a moment before speaking.

"I know you were mostly here for Callias," she said gently. "And you might not be comfortable around the rest of us just yet—but we did enjoy getting to know you." She paused, then smiled. "Hopefully, we'll get to do it again."

Something about the sincerity in her voice made your chest warm slightly. You nodded, gratitude settling in your bones. "I'd like that," you admitted.

After that, you excused yourself, stretching as you stood. The others bid you a casual farewell, already shifting their conversation elsewhere.

You wandered a short distance away, their chatter fading into the background as you searched for a quieter spot. Then, finally, you found it.

A ledge.

It wasn't far from where they sat, but it felt separate enough to offer some peace. The land sloped downward slightly before opening to a ledge overlooking the sea. You made your way toward it, the faint salt of the ocean thick in the cool night air.

Settling down, you placed your cup beside you, the clay cool against the stone.

Below, the waves crashed against the cliffs, the water an endless abyss of dark blue and silver, illuminated only by the moonlight breaking through scattered clouds. The distant roar of the sea filled the silence, steady and unrelenting, constant and unfazed by mortal worries.

Above, the sky stretched wide, stars blinking in and out as the clouds drifted lazily. Orion and Perseus had already emerged, their familiar figures standing boldly in the heavens.

But Venus—

Venus was still hidden.

You sighed softly, watching as the clouds shifted, waiting.

The wind carried the scent of salt and damp earth, the waves below crashing rhythmically against the cliffs. Above, the thinning clouds slowly unveiled the vast cosmos, stars flickering into view one by one. The night stretched endless—vast—as if you were floating somewhere between the sky and the sea, caught in a strange, quiet stillness.

You traced the familiar constellations absently, mind drifting, thoughts slipping into a hazy blur—until a voice cut through the quiet.

"Now, now. Sitting all alone, looking all broody? You're gonna make me think you're lonely."

You barely smothered the startled yelp that nearly escaped, your hand flying to cover your mouth. Heart hammering, you turned sharply to your left, only to find—

Hermes.

The god lounged beside you as if he'd been there the whole time, one knee propped up, chin resting lazily against his palm. His golden eyes gleamed with mischief, lips curled into a lopsided grin that spelled nothing but trouble.

"Gods," you whispered breathlessly, pressing a hand to your chest in a feeble attempt to slow your racing heart.

Hermes chuckled, straightening slightly. "Startled you?"

You shot him a look, still trying to calm your nerves. "Just a little," you muttered, exhaling through your nose.

"Good." He winked, stretching his arms behind his head. "I'd hate to think I'm losing my touch."

You shook your head, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. But before you could respond, Hermes tilted his head, his grin turning sly.

"Speaking of trouble..." he drawled, voice dipping into something playfully accusatory. "Aren't you a little troublemaker? What happened to 'Don't get into trouble without me'? I leave you alone for one afternoon, and you almost get me singed by Hades."

You winced at the reminder, guilt pooling in your stomach. "Ah..." You scratched at your cheek, looking away. "Sorry about that. I—I really didn't mean to—"

Hermes let out a bark of laughter, waving off your apology with an easy flick of his wrist. "No worries. Lucky for you, Persephone made sure you wouldn't get any punishments. Even Hades liked you a little—but don't expect him to admit it."

Your eyebrows lifted. "Hades?"

"Mhm." Hermes leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming with interest. "I gotta say, I'm impressed. How did you do it? I was all set to be the one escorting your soul when your time came, and yet, here you are. Breathing. Living." He made a dramatic gesture with his hands. "Existing."

You cleared your throat, turning your gaze back out to sea as you scratched your chin, recalling the moment. "I, uh... just repeated the phrase you whispered to me. The one about the threshold."

Hermes blinked. Once. Twice.

"That's it?"

You nodded.

He stared for another beat before leaning back with an amused hum, tapping a finger against his chin.

"Huh."

Silence stretched between you, the waves below filling the space with their rhythmic crash. You weren't sure if Hermes was still mulling over your words or simply enjoying the way you squirmed under his unreadable gaze.

Then, his lips curled into a smirk, golden eyes glinting with mischief.

"Besides that, a little birdie told me you've learned of your favor to my insufferable big brother." He gave a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his curls as if the thought physically pained him. "Congratulations, little musician. You're officially tied to one of the most dramatic gods on Olympus. And that's saying something."

You couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you," you murmured, though something about his words stirred an uncomfortable thought in the back of your mind.

Favor of a god.

Cleo's voice slithered through your memories like a whisper in the dark.

"You have everything, ____. The favor of a prince, the favor of a god. Do you even realize how selfish you are?"

Your stomach twisted. The cold breeze suddenly felt sharper against your skin. You fidgeted, clearing your throat to steady your voice.

"Hermes," you started hesitantly, shifting to fully face him. "Could you... help me with something?"

His brows lifted slightly, amusement softening into curiosity. "Of course. I am very helpful, you know."

You hesitated, heart pounding. The words felt heavy in your throat, but after everything—Cleo, the Underworld, Telemachus—you needed an answer. Even if you weren't sure you'd like it.

Taking a slow breath, you forced the words out.

"Was I... supposed to die?"

Hermes froze.

It was brief—a flicker, a second of unnatural stillness—but you caught it. His smirk faltered, his body tensed ever so slightly before he quickly masked it with a scoff.

"Where on earth did you get that idea?" he asked, tilting his head with an easy grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

You shifted under his gaze, suddenly embarrassed. "I—I don't know," you admitted, gripping the fabric of your clothes. "It's just... things have been strange lately. And Cleo—" You swallowed hard. "She said it. That it was supposed to be me down there. And when I asked Polites, he just told me to ask you."

But you weren't done. The thoughts had already started unraveling, spilling from your lips before you could stop them.

"And then Telemachus—he said favors never end well. That they come with consequences. And what if this is mine? What if—" Your breath hitched, words tumbling out too fast, chest tightening with something raw and unspoken. "What if I was supposed to die, and Apollo changed it? What if I was never meant to be here at all?"

Your voice cracked, and you clenched your jaw, willing yourself to calm down. But the fear had already crept in, clawing up your spine, coiling in your stomach. It had been lurking in the background all day, shadowing every thought, every breath. And now, as you finally voiced it, the weight of it nearly crushed you.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, the cold air too thin, too sharp. You curled in slightly, gripping your arms to ground yourself as a quiet tremble ran through your limbs.

Then, warm fingers pressed gently against the top of your head.

A strange sensation rushed over you—soft, golden warmth eased the tightness in your chest, smoothing over the edges of your nerves. Your shoulders relaxed before you could stop them, the tension draining from your body like water slipping through your fingers.

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed.

Hermes huffed, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he ruffled your hair like you were a child fretting over nothing. "There we go," he murmured. "No need for all that panic, little musician."

You exhaled shakily, realizing just how fast your heart had been racing. The warmth from his touch settled deep in your chest, lingering like sunlight after a storm.

Hermes watched you for a moment, then clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a smirk. "Look at you. All teary-eyed." He leaned in, swiping away a stray tear with his thumb before you'd even noticed it was there.

The touch was quick, fleeting—but it sent a shiver through you nonetheless.

"Unfortunately," he continued, tone lighter now, "that particular question is a little outside my jurisdiction."

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my dear little mortal," he said, tapping your nose playfully, "whether or not you were meant to die is Apollo's business, not mine."

Your heart sank. "So you don't know?"

"Oh, I probably do," he teased, grinning when you huffed. "But that's a family secret, you see. Divine intervention and all that."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he raised a finger, cutting you off.

"What I can promise you, though," he said, voice dipping into something softer, more certain, "is that you don't have to worry about dying anytime soon."

Your breath caught at the quiet sincerity in his words.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment before his smirk returned, gentler this time. "I won't allow it."

His voice was light, teasing as always, but something in the way he said it—the certainty, the quiet weight—made your chest tighten.

A promise.

A reassurance.

And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe it.

The warmth of Hermes' words settled deep in your chest, lingering like the last traces of sunlight on your skin. It was strange—comforting, even—how easily he could dispel your fears with a smirk and a well-placed touch. You hadn't realized just how much you needed to hear it, how much you had been carrying, until now. Your fingers flexed slightly against your lap, testing the weight of your own relief.

Hermes, for his part, looked entirely at ease. His golden eyes glinted with satisfaction as he rocked back slightly, hands slipping into the folds of his cloak. His usual mischievous grin played at his lips—but then, something shifted.

His gaze flickered past your shoulder, his smirk softening into something more knowing—resigned, almost.

"Well," he exhaled through his nose, "looks like our little heart-to-heart is about to be cut short."

You frowned. "What do you—"

"You'll see," he interrupted, smile turning lopsided, teasing. "I'll be seeing you soon, little musician."

There was something in his tone—something weighty beneath the ease—but before you could question it, a sharp crack split through the quiet.

A twig snapping.

Your breath caught. The sound was close—too close. The night air thickened, charged with something unseen, your pulse skipping as your senses sharpened.

A shadow shifted just beyond the tree line, stepping hesitantly into the torch-lit clearing.

Telemachus.

Your stomach twisted at the sight of him. He stood just at the edge of the light, framed by the silver glow of the stars, his posture stiff—almost uncertain. His dark eyes found yours instantly, the flickering torches casting restless shadows across his face.

"____," he said softly, clearing his throat before glancing away, as if collecting himself. Then, quieter, more hesitant—"Can we talk?"

Instinctively, you turned slightly, expecting Hermes' presence beside you, a snide remark or knowing grin at your expense.

But when you looked, the space where he had been was empty.

The only thing that remained was the whisper of the wind, as if he had never been there at all.

Your mind reeled, struggling to catch up. Hermes was gone. Telemachus was here. And now—he was asking to talk.

You swallowed hard, pushing down the tangle of emotions threatening to resurface.

"Of course," you murmured, voice steadier than you felt.

Because despite the uncertainty, the exhaustion, the unresolved weight between you—one thing was clear.

Whatever Telemachus had to say, you were ready to hear it.

He moved quietly, lowering himself beside you on the ledge. The air between you settled into something fragile yet familiar—not tense, but not entirely at ease either.

Neither of you spoke.

For a long moment, you just sat there, listening to the distant crash of waves against the cliffs below. The wind carried the scent of salt and cypress, weaving through the silence like a presence of its own.

He exhaled slowly, barely audible over the night's quiet hum. His fingers flexed against his knees, gripping the fabric of his tunic like it was the only thing anchoring him. At first, his posture was rigid, but as the silence stretched, his shoulders slumped slightly—like something within him had finally given in.

You turned toward him just as he lowered his head, eyes cast downward, expression caught somewhere between thoughtfulness and quiet remorse. His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but he hesitated.

And then, finally, he looked at you.

His brown eyes met yours, raw and unguarded, holding an intensity that sent your heart skittering, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, and then—

"I'm sorry," he murmured. His voice was soft, but the weight behind it was immense. "For everything."

His fingers curled into his palms, nails pressing into his skin. "I've been acting like a fool. I see it now," he admitted, his tone edged with frustration—though not at you. "The way I've treated you, the way I've kept things from you... I don't know why I thought that was fair. As if you could read my mind, as if you could just... understand the weight of everything I've been trying to juggle without me even telling you."

He let out a breath, shaking his head. "That's not fair to you. It never was."

You said nothing, letting him speak, letting him unravel what had clearly been building inside him.

His hand dragged over his face before dropping limply to his lap. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. His lips pressed into a thin line before he sighed. "Lady Andreia. She... " He hesitated, then forced himself to say it. "She proposed a marriage alliance the first time we spoke alone."

A sharp pang shot through your chest, but you pushed it down, focusing on the way his face twisted, on the flicker of barely contained disgust in his eyes.

"I didn't see it coming," he continued, voice tight. "Not at all. I thought—" He scoffed at himself. "I thought she was just trying to recover after losing her brother. I never imagined she'd have her sights set on me, on Ithaca. Gods, I was blind to it. Completely blindsided."

His jaw clenched, frustration bleeding into every word. "And then I went to my parents. I told them everything." He let out a humorless laugh. "They weren't surprised. Not really. My father, being who he is, took it in stride. He spoke of alternatives—military alliances, cultural exchanges—but I could see it in his eyes." He exhaled sharply. "He was testing me. Seeing if I would choose duty over myself."

His voice dropped, quieter now. "And my mother... she reminded me that Andreia isn't just a princess. She's a girl who lost her brother, trying to secure a future for herself the only way she's ever been taught." His gaze flickered toward the sky, though he didn't really seem to see it. "And I hated it. Hated that it made sense. Hated that I could understand why she was doing this. Hated that I didn't know how to escape it without making things worse."

Silence settled between you, heavy and unmoving.

And then, in a voice quieter than before, Telemachus whispered, "I should have told you the moment it happened."

Your breath caught.

His hands trembled slightly as he flexed his fingers, his expression twisting into something deeply regretful. "I should have come to you," he admitted, his voice cracking at the edges. "I should have let you know instead of making you piece things together on your own. Instead of making you feel like I was shutting you out."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and when he spoke again. "I didn't want you to—"

He stopped abruptly, jaw tightening.

Didn't want you to what? Worry? Hurt? See how much it was affecting him?

Whatever it was, he didn't say it.

Instead, he let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging. "But by doing that, I made it worse," he admitted. "I made you worry anyway. I made you doubt things I should have been clear about from the start. And now..." He let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Now I've only made a mess of things. Because I was too much of a fool to realize how much keeping this from you would hurt you."

He dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers clenching briefly in frustration before dropping to his lap again. "I don't know how to fix this," he admitted, voice raw. "But I don't want there to be distance between us. Not anymore."

His gaze found yours again, and this time, there was something desperate in it. Something pleading.

"I just... I need you to know that, no matter what happens, no matter what people expect of me, no matter what Lady Andreia or my parents or the gods themselves want..." He swallowed hard, breath unsteady. "It's you I trust. It's you I care about."

His voice barely made it above a whisper, but the weight of his words crashed into you like a wave.

There was no uncertainty in his gaze—only truth, raw and unspoken, laid bare beneath the moonlight.

As you stared into his eyes, a part of you—the one that had spent so long second-guessing, doubting, questioning—shouted in triumph. See? it whispered, See? You were foolish to doubt him. Shame followed close behind, a quiet, creeping thing. Had you truly been so blind to his feelings all this time?

But despite that relief, one thing stood out, repeating over and over in your mind like a mantra, sticking to you like a burr you couldn't shake:

"No matter what happens, no matter what people expect of me, no matter what Lady Andreia or my parents or the gods themselves want... It's you I trust. It's you I care about."

Telemachus trusts you. He cares about you.

Does that... does that mean he—?

Your breath hitched, stomach tightening with a rush of something overwhelming, something far too big to process all at once. It was one thing to feel the connection between you, to share these quiet, stolen moments, but to hear him say it, to know that he put you above all else, was another thing entirely.

Your heart pounded, so loud you thought he might hear it. You swallowed, gaze flickering away for a moment, as if breaking eye contact might steady you. But it didn't.

Slowly, cautiously, you lifted your gaze back to his, and before you could stop yourself, the question slipped from your lips, soft and uncertain. "You... care about me?"

Telemachus stilled.

For just a fraction of a second, his entire body locked up, eyes widening slightly before he coughed, looking away. His grip on his knees tightened, and you saw it—the moment of panic, the scramble for an excuse, the way his lips parted like he might try to laugh it off, to dismiss the weight of his words.

But instead of denial, instead of some hurried deflection, he exhaled slowly. His shoulders loosened, a tired, almost self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips.

And then, before you could react, he reached over and took your hand in his.

The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you. His fingers brushed against your skin, slow and deliberate, tracing soothing patterns along the back of your hand. His hold was firm but gentle, as if grounding himself as much as he was grounding you.

"Of course, ____," he murmured, quiet but certain. "Why wouldn't I care for the one I love?"

Your breath faltered.

Your entire body locked up, as though the words had physically struck you.

The one I love.

The rush of emotions that overtook you was near unbearable. Happiness, fear, disbelief—all of it at once, making your head spin. Your fingers trembled in his hold, and you barely managed to whisper his name. "Telemachus..."

But the prince wasn't finished.

He shook his head, his grip tightening slightly, his other hand covering yours like he was trying to reassure you, trying to make sure you understood. Then, carefully, he shifted, angling himself toward you fully, his expression raw with something so painfully tender it made your heart ache.

"____, you have to understand," he said, voice softer now, carrying the weight of years, of things left unspoken. "This isn't something new, something I just realized. It's been there—gods, it's always been there. I just..." He let out a breath, lips pressing together before continuing.

"I think I first knew when we were children," he admitted, voice tinged with nostalgia. "The first time I heard you singing to my mother, soothing her when nothing else could. You had this way of making the world feel... lighter. Safer." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Even then, I think I was falling for you. Slowly. Every day. In ways I didn't even recognize until it was too late."

You felt your throat tighten, emotion clawing its way up, making it difficult to breathe.

"I always thought I had time," he confessed, his fingers curling slightly against your skin. "Time to gather the courage, to find the right moment. But then everything started shifting—my father's return, Bronte, the favor. And suddenly, I realized how quickly things could be taken away." His eyes flickered with something pained, something desperate. "I realized I couldn't wait anymore."

Slowly, carefully, he reached out, his fingers grazing your cheek—warm, reverent. Your breath hitched, your skin tingling where he touched. When you met his gaze again, it was filled with something so deep, so consuming, it nearly swallowed you whole.

"But I understand," he murmured, softer now, as if afraid to break the moment. "I understand that this isn't simple. That I can't just throw caution to the wind and expect you to do the same." His thumb brushed against your cheekbone, featherlight. "I know that for me, it's easy to say I don't care about titles or expectations. But for you... it's different."

Your heart clenched. He understood. He truly understood.

"I would be a fool to ignore that," he continued. "A fool to act as though this isn't complicated, as though it doesn't put an unfair burden on you." His voice dropped lower, the vulnerability in his tone making your chest ache. "But I don't care what the world says. I don't care what Andreia wants, or what my parents expect, or what the gods themselves decide."

He swallowed, eyes dark and unwavering.

"I'm saying this because I need you to know. Not because I expect an answer, not because I want to rush you into something you're not ready for." His lips curled into a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. "I just need you to know that from this moment on, I will be vying for your love."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"You don't have to take my heart," he whispered, "but it's yours regardless."

Your chest was so tight it hurt, your emotions swirling so wildly you could barely keep yourself together.

Telemachus gave you a small, almost pleading smile. "You don't have to say anything," he murmured. "Not now. Not yet. I just... " His thumb brushed against your cheek once more, reverent, tender. "I just want to spend this moment with you. If you'll let me."

Your vision blurred slightly, a single tear slipping down your cheek before you could stop it. He caught it with his thumb, wiping it away as gently as if he were handling something fragile.

A soft, trembling smile curled at your lips. "Okay," you whispered.

And so, you sat there, your hands still clasped in his, his warmth anchoring you as the world stilled around you.

And as if the heavens themselves had been waiting for this moment, the clouds above shifted, parting just enough to reveal a brilliant glow.

Venus peeked out from the darkness, luminous and radiant, casting a gentle silver light over you both.

A/N: AHHHHH IT HAPPENED!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉 I know y'all were starving for romance faster, but I just had to take my time with it, lmaooo 😭😭. the way I was KICKING UP MY FEET writing this... pure ✨delicious✨ agony. also, I had to keep it 10k—I could not cut it up and risk ruining the tension. the build-up, the divine drama, the slow unraveling??? *chef's kiss*. y'all needed to feel all of it. and that little almost/not confession?? Yeahhh... I needed that. 😌 also, shameless plug-in but plz check out my sis's (k_nayee) book 'Warrior'! It's an EPIC fic basically a 'what-if' if penelope were the warrior tyring to get home instead of odysseus 👀 y'all i'm not even gon lie it's good asf and im mad cuz she won't let me be her editor so i can read ahead 💔💔but seriuosuly i'm trynna not to ramble cuz the fanservices "MWAH" never knew i needed to have odysseus more than his son until i read it y'all! here's link to the other sites shes posted on tumblr, wattpad, quotev

Tag List: nerds4life246 ace-spades-1 uniquetravelerone alassal thesimppotato11 jackintheboxs-world kahlan170 akiqvq matchaabread danishland uselessmoonlight apad-ravya

[vrystalius]

I saw your request for "Kokushibo surprise kiss" and i was wondering if you could make it for the others, upper moon two and three?

Surprise kiss

What will their reaction be to be teased with a surprise kiss while being busy?

Pairing: Douma, Akaza x reader

Here the surprise kiss with Kokushibo <3

Douma

Douma was talking with a few followers who were curious about the sermon he just held. He was speaking to them with his signature smile, but you noticed how his eyes weren’t shining like they usually do when he’s with you. He held a happy face for his followers, but was obviously either bored out of his mind or feeling too lazy to be a proper priest today. Perhaps the reason for it is how you’ve been neglecting him regarding affections lately. Not on purpose of course, you’re just busy helping Douma’s followers with simple chores around the temple, like washing clothes, dusting the shrines or teaching the kids about botany in the gardens. It’s fun talking to all the different people in his cult and get to know their stories, although your husband is not the biggest fan of that. Once you tire yourself out during the day, you barely have energy to properly coddle and drown Douma in affection like he deserves it. That’s why he’s been a little less enthusiastic about doing his duties as a priest.

You silently snuck up on your husband while he was talking to a couple followers. The people speaking to him noticed your sneaking around and raised an eyebrow but didn’t blow your cover. You are the founder’s wife after all. You stood behind Douma and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. He turned to face you, his expression brightening up almost immediately.

“My lotus! What do you need?”

You quickly cupped his cheeks and lightly squished them together before pulling him down to your hight, crashing your lips onto his. He jerked a little at the sudden affection you so openly showed but quickly leaned into the kiss with a huge grin. He slowly slipped his ceremonial hat off his head and pulled you a little closer, his tongue trying to intrude into your warmth. Your husband ignored the quiet gasps of surprise and hard stares digging into his back from his followers and simply covered your faces from them with his large hat.

They were spared from the sight but not the sounds of your lips meeting over and over. The followers had no choice but to awkwardly stand there while their founder finally got the affection he craved for days now. You had to push Douma away by the chest to finally catch a breath. He pouted once you pulled away, placing his hat back on top of his head.

“We’ll continue this later, shall we?~”

His large grin and sparkling rainbow eyes are already predicting your fate for tonight.

Akaza

He has been taking a rest from training, watching some kind of festival in a village from afar, on top of a rooftop. Akaza was alone and didn’t want any company for now. Muzan has been swamping him with all kinds of missions and tasks, on top of him training to reach his peak daily exhausted him to no end. He knows he has been neglecting you for a while, so your husband didn’t even want to confront you and hear you complain about him not being around. He knows that you have a reason to be mad but just doesn’t have the energy to listen to you.

Akaza craves your affections and presence just as you crave him. He really does, that man just keeps pulling him away from you. His thoughts kept swirling and running in circles, all circling around you. His eyes were unfocused on the lights of the festival afar and his mind dissociating, that’s why he didn’t notice you sneaking up.

Nakime teleported you on the same rooftop he used to hide from you after begging for almost an hour to her to let you see your husband. You missed Akaza and understood him well, meaning you knew that he was hiding from you to avoid listening to you complain about his lack of attention your husband was giving you. You pounced him from behind, wrapping your arms around his chest and peppering multiple kisses onto his neck. You felt how he almost instantly tensed beneath you. Akaza grabbed your arms and threw you over his shoulder, slamming you against the tiles of the rooftop out of instinct. He seriously thought you were some kind of perverted demon slayer that snuck up on him for a split second before quickly realising that it was obviously you, his spouse. His eyes widened and he quickly let go of your arms and leaned away, kneeling over you.

“I’m so sorry, are you hurt? Humans are incredibly fragile-“

Before he could continue to rant about this being the exact reason why he wants you to become a demon, you pulled him back onto your lips. Akaza grunted in surprise before finally melting into the kiss, resting all his weight onto his forearms, pinning you between them. He silently leaned away and just stared into your eyes for a moment. Then, you finally grunted out in pain and rubbed your lower back.

“You stupid hunk… how could you not sense your wife sneaking up?”

“I told you I’m sorry. I have suggested to you many times to become a demon, but you never listen, wife.”

💠

Of course I’d write something for three of my favourite Upper Moons! I hope you enjoyed it as much as you did Kokushibo’s part, anon!! I just ordered a Kokushibo plushie and am looking forward to have him join Douma. Now I just need Muzan, Akaza and Gyutaro!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3 I appreciate every single one of you interacting with my posts!

[gojossugarcandy]

A tired girl is aching to get some sleep when her karma doesn't let her.

An act of laziness and, well, cheating got her to her lowest. The act being summoning of a devil, an incubus, to cure her boredom. This girl had her summer vacations going on and her friends had abandoned her on the very first minute of it.

So she decided to poke around and found out about a spell that summoned an incubus. Not believing in this nonsense, she decided to try it out. Well, there was an upside and a downside.

Upside -> She got a boyfriend who oozed out sexual energy like hell

Downside -> This boyfriend was not one who pampered her but was to be pampered.

Lavi was a fucking bitch in heat who always clung to Y/n.

Never letting her take a breather.

And a few times he was abandoned, when Y/n was going on a night out or something (not with her friends but just visiting a bar for a drink) then he would get very pouty and thus established some rules. One of them being, you going out with him and your friends only.

One fine evening, while You sat on your bed with Lavi on your lap, your hand combing through his hair, while he was going through some weird incubus hentai manga and criticizing it to be very inaccurate and boring.

Then, a sudden notification pop caught your and his attention.

A notification from your dead friends!

Grout Chat - Drunkard - Guys, Let's go on a night out. Playboy - Man, I was waiting for you to say that Bestie - I feel like i am dying. Finally someone revived the dead chat

Then, you start chatting with them, a huge smile etched on your face. A smile Lavi didn't want to be due to others. Only he should make you smile like that. You can smile only with him. And so on, the possessive thoughts went on....

You suddenly stood up due to which his body was forced out of your lap causing his mood to instantly change.

"The heck? Why did you do that?!" His expression of irritation is ignored by you, who was too busy finding clothes.

You start changing into a different pair of clothes. Very revealing clothes.

He was dumbfounded for a second before he also got up, excited to go out with you, excited for your first date or whatever humans call it.

After changing, you turn around to take a mirror pic and showed your dress to him, when you noticed his giddy smile.

Confused, you ask "Are you so happy to see me go out of the house or something?"

He looked at you, now he was the confused one as he declared,

"Cutie, aren't we going out together?" he asked before adding in,

"Didn't we already agree that you would always go out with me only??"

"Oh! nonono, there has been a misunderstanding here. I am going out with my friends for a night out, It's a friends thing and plus i thought i agreed to going out with you also and not you only"

In the blink of an eye, the mood changed. The room suddenly felt colder, your clothes too open and his stare too suspicious.

You didn't even realize you were holding your breath, your adrenaline, released due to your flight-or-fight instinct, already reaching every cell in your body already, until your notification sound pops. No, you were far too busy staring at those eyes, too fearful to break the eye contact.

You snapped your head at the direction of the nightstand, where your phone was kept.

But he forcefully held your jaw with one hand, snapping it back to re-establish the eye contact.

His nerves were popping out, eyes angry, pupils too small and his tail swinging wildy.

You tried to push away the hand on your jaw when he held your hand.

Now, the anger wasn't limited to his eyes only. It spread all over his face. His expression was terrifying you. He then declared, in a very deep voice,

"Going Out With 'Friends' Without Me?! Since When Were You Allowed To Do That?! Ha! Don't Make Me Laugh!"

______________________________________________________________

@meo-eiru(The image up there belong to her. I really admire, adore, worship, words are not enough! creators like these as they draw such good drawing with their imaginations! Like damnnnnn! and then there is me. A person who likes drawing but is a huge failure. (I swear, my human faces look like monkeys😂🤣😂🤣) Anyway, seeing the image, I had like a context for it. I don't know if this is good or not. My previous stories are trash because I, like, had no motivation to write but just wanted to. But this one fanart fired my imagination up and I just started writing.

Well, here we go again, with copying the text and pasting it. Lavi seems like the kind of character who acts cute and nice when you agree with him but the moment you are, like, opposing or simply disagreeing with him, he would get angry and very very scary. It is kind of similar to Silas but he won't get angry. He will just laugh freakily and like correct you with his alluring voice.

[anna-the-undertaker]

The Boys reaction to a Blue Collar Worker MC who was summoned to the Devildom in nothing but a towel...

I finally did this after so long.... Idk whats happening but I've been on a writing kick recently so we will see how you all like my writing I guess lmao also we are ignoring how mammon wasn't in the room when MC arrives in game cause I'm lazy.

Tags: @lurkingblue @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

part 1

Lucifer

Lucifer's eyes narrowed as he took in the sight before him. A human, fresh out of a bath and barely coherent, standing in the heart of the Devildom, had the audacity to speak in such a manner. The request for clothes, food, and rest was delivered with a bluntness that bordered on insolence. Normally, he wouldn't tolerate such disrespect, especially not in Diavolo's presence. Lucifer prided himself on order and discipline, and this human's arrival was anything but. He could feel his patience thinning, a not so rare occurrence that he worked hard to suppress. This was the human chosen by Diavolo? His expression remained impassive, but the air around him grew colder as he spoke. "You are in no position to make demands, human. Consider yourself fortunate that Lord Diavolo is more generous than I."

How he looks back on it now: Lucifer, sitting with a glass of Demonus in hand, would let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I still can't believe that was our first impression of them. Summoned to the Devildom in a towel, dripping water all over the floor like they owned the place. And then—then—they have the audacity to demand food, clothes, and a bed as if they were checking into a five-star hotel. I knew from that moment that MC would be nothing but trouble... and I wasn’t wrong.”

Mammon

Mammon, caught somewhere between surprise and amusement, couldn’t help but let out a bark of a laugh. This human was something else. Appearing in the middle of the Devildom, demanding food and a place to sleep like they owned the place? Mammon could almost admire that kind of guts, if it wasn't so ridiculous. But he was also intrigued. They were obviously tired and out of their depth, but there was a spark of defiance in them that piqued his curiosity. "Hey, hey, maybe we should cut ‘em some slack, yeah? Look at ‘em, they’re about ready to keel over. Not exactly how I pictured meetin’ a human though…"

How he looks back on it now: Mammon would be laughing, practically doubled over. “Ya shoulda seen Lucifer’s face! He was so mad, but he didn’t know what to do! And then there’s MC, barely awake, tellin’ us off like we were the ones who interrupted their shower! They’re a riot, I tell ya. I knew right then and there—this human was gonna be somethin’ special.”

Leviathan

Leviathan blinked rapidly, trying to process what he was seeing. This was supposed to be the human exchange student? This tired, wet mess of a person who was talking like they had just walked into a convenience store? Levi was torn between feeling embarrassed for them and being mildly impressed by their nerve. But mostly, he just felt awkward. He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding direct eye contact, his facing burning with a fierce blush as he searched for something to hide behind. "This is so… weird. Like, who even does that? Walking into a place like this… in a towel? It’s like something out of a bad anime."

How he looks back on it now: Levi would be blushing, trying to hide behind his manga. “I mean, it was like something out of an anime, right? The clueless protagonist just casually demanding things from these powerful beings… it’s straight out of a ‘reverse isekai’ plot! But honestly, I was too busy being embarrassed for them to laugh at the time. Now, though? It’s kind of hilarious. They just… stood there, barely dressed, like it was no big deal!”

Satan

Satan observed the human with a critical eye. The situation was strange, even by Devildom standards, but it also presented an interesting puzzle. Who was this human to speak so boldly? They were clearly exhausted, pushed to their limits, but there was something almost… primal about their directness. It was as if survival instincts had taken over. "Interesting. They’re either incredibly brave or too exhausted to care about decorum. I wonder how long they’ll last here if this is how they start."

How he looks back on it now: Satan would smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I admit, I didn’t expect a mere human to have the nerve to make demands right after being summoned. It was… refreshing, to say the least. I could see the frustration in Lucifer’s eyes, and I knew I was going to enjoy having MC around. They didn’t bow down in fear—they just wanted a nap. Brilliant.”

Asmodeus

Asmodeus couldn’t help but giggle, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. This human was definitely not what he had expected. They were dripping water everywhere, their hair clinging to their skin, and yet, instead of being mortified, they were making demands. It was almost endearing in its own way, like a lost kitten mewling for attention. "Oh my, aren’t you just precious? But darling, if you’re going to make demands like that, at least do it with a bit more flair. Still, I think we can find you something more… suitable to wear or you could just lose the towel all together."

How he looks back on it now: Asmo would be giggling, twirling a lock of his hair around his finger. “Oh, it was such a scandal! A human, in a towel, dripping wet in front of everyone! And yet, they had this… effortless confidence. It was kind of hot, honestly. And their skin looked amazing—I was so jealous! I just knew I had to befriend them. Anyone who can pull off an entrance like that is someone I need to know!”

Beelzebub

Beelzebub’s concern was immediate but simple. The human was obviously tired and hungry, and those were things he could easily understand. He frowned slightly, glancing around the room as if expecting someone to step in and help. "They should eat something. And rest. They said they’re about to pass out. We can figure everything else out after."

How he looks back on it now: Beel would nod thoughtfully, his focus split between the memory and whatever snack he’s holding. “I just remember being really confused… and hungry. They said something about food, and I thought, ‘Yeah, I could go for a snack too.’ But they didn’t even seem scared, just tired and hungry. I get that. We connected on a deep level that day.”

Diavolo

Diavolo, on the other hand, was more fascinated than anything else and couldn't help the booming laugh that escaped him. The human’s arrival, so raw and unfiltered, was not what he had planned, but it was a glimpse into their true character. He appreciated the honesty in their exhaustion and the way they set boundaries despite being in an unfamiliar and likely frightening situation. "Welcome to the Devildom," he said warmly, his voice cutting through the tension. "We will, of course, ensure you are taken care of. Rest first, and we’ll discuss everything else when you’re ready."

How he looks back on it now: Diavolo would laugh heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, that was classic! I thought we were about to welcome our human exchange student with a grand, royal introduction. You know, something to set the tone! And then… poof! In they come, in nothing but a towel, demanding food and a nap! I couldn’t help but admire their spirit—who else would have the audacity to make demands of a demon lord? Honestly, I knew right then that they were going to make things very interesting around here.”

Barbatos

Barbatos watched with his usual calm demeanor, though his mind was already calculating what would be needed to accommodate this unexpectedly demanding guest. He was intrigued by their bluntness, a trait not often seen in someone so new to the Devildom. "It seems we have our work cut out for us. I’ll prepare something for them to wear and eat. This situation, unusual as it is, can be addressed once they’ve had the rest they need."

How he looks back on it now: Barbatos would smile subtly, a hint of amusement in his usually composed demeanor. “It was certainly… unexpected. I remember thinking, ‘Ah, this is going to be a challenge.’ I had prepared everything for a formal welcome, and suddenly I was considering where I could find suitable clothing on such short notice. But what really stood out was their confidence. They weren’t intimidated at all—just tired. It was almost endearing, in a way. Though I must admit, I’ve never had to prepare a royal feast for someone who was dripping on the floor before.”

The other characters after hearing of MC's dramatic arrival later -

Belphegor

Belphegor, still hidden away, was not present to witness the scene firsthand, but the way the human handled their introduction would later reach his ears. He would find it amusing, this tired human, dragged into a world they couldn’t possibly understand and still demanding rest. It would have made him laugh, perhaps even endeared them to him in a strange way, though he’d never admit it. “I think it's hilarious. They were so focused on getting some sleep, just like me. Honestly, I'm impressed. I don’t even care that they're human. Anyone who prioritizes a nap over everything else has their priorities straight in my book.”

Simeon

Simeon would laugh softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, MC. Only you could be summoned into a realm of demons in nothing but a towel and somehow manage to make demands! I can just imagine the look on Lucifer’s face. It’s impressive—you're like a stubborn ray of sunshine cutting through the darkest clouds. I’d love to have seen it!”

Luke

Luke would be flabbergasted, his eyes wide with a mix of horror and indignation. “They were summoned like that? That’s so unfair! I bet they were freezing! Who does that? Demons, apparently! But you know what? Good for them for telling those demons off! That’s what they deserve for being so unprepared. If I were there, I would’ve given them a piece of my mind too!”

Solomon

Solomon would be grinning, clearly amused by the whole scenario. “That’s classic MC—turning a moment of complete chaos into one where they’re the one calling the shots. I can just picture them standing there, dripping water all over the floor, and casually telling the future King of the Devildom that they need a nap. Honestly, it’s moments like this that make me glad I chose them as my apprentice. They’ve got the kind of audacity that most people can only dream of!”

Rapheal

Raphael, known for his serious demeanor, would hear about MC’s first arrival to the Devildom and probably raise an eyebrow, trying to picture the scene. "So, they appeared in a towel and demanded food and rest? Bold. Very bold." After a pause, he’d add with a rare smirk, "They might survive down here better than I thought."

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles, with his aristocratic air, would be caught between disbelief and amusement. “They really told Lucifer and Diavolo off in a towel? If only I could’ve seen that! The looks on their faces must’ve been priceless. Perhaps I’ll write a column about the ‘indecent’ summons of the human exchange student!” He’d chuckle at his own joke, imagining the uproar it would cause.

Thirteen

Thirteen, with her mischievous streak, would find the whole thing hilarious. “They really popped in like that? A towel, dripping water, and told everyone to get their act together? That’s brilliant! I would’ve loved to see everyone’s reaction. I bet Lucifer’s face turned fifty shades of red. I like this human already—got some real spunk!” She’d laugh, already planning some pranks inspired by the story.

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 21.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. angst, hurt with maybe some comfort but you really have to squint, some closure, plot

A/N. it's over isn't it isn't it isn't it over

-> MASTERLIST.

The team you had signed with gave you about a month to make your move. Which was honestly not a burden, considering they paid for everything. They even paid for your housing and other necessities for when you moved to the states.

A month also gives you enough time to hang out with any of your friends or family.

The week that you accept the job offer, you spend it with your family back in your hometown. Spending 7 days with your loved ones before you left across the globe was bittersweet. It was a jam-packed 7 days, but it was still fun. It felt nostalgic to be in the town you were raised in, seeing many familiar faces and buildings.

You cry when you bid your family goodbye. 

“You tell me if you ever need anything, ‘kay?” your sister mumbles into your shoulder, her own tears wetting the material.

All you’re able to respond with is a frantic nod of your head. You crash into your parents’ arms as they whisper words of love and praise into your ears. It all reminds you of when you first left for college. You always were a crybaby, huh?

As you got into your car, you gave them all one last wave before letting the sound of the car ambience fill your ears.

You, for the most part, pay no mind to your surroundings, letting the colors of nature and architecture outside blur into one. Until you come to a stop. 

Only catching a peek, you realize you’re stopped right next to your old high school. You catch yourself in the midst of a thought, a thought about a certain someone. You instantly crush that thought and throw it to the back of your mind. 

Out of sight, out of mind.

———

The rest of your time before the week of your departure is spent with friends or just relaxing. After all, you’d probably get straight to work when you get settled in your new place. 

After procrastinating and putting it off for so long, you finally get to packing. It’s not too hard, since you find yourself to be a minimalist and don’t have too much in the first place. The most packing you had to do was taking apart your computer. Second to that is probably your clothes. 

When the day before your flight finally came, you wound up tired and lazy on your couch. Part of you was excited, excited to leave the country for a whole new experience. But on the other hand, this country was your home. You were leaving so many people behind. So many memories. But perhaps the latter was for the better.

You could feel yourself dozing off. Your place was dark as the night took over the city. You quickly input 4 different alarms onto your phone before finding yourself relaxing on the comforter. 

Knock, knock.

You chalk it up to your imagination or the fact you’re already half asleep. You ignore it.

Knock, knock, knock.

Realizing it’s definitely not your imagination, you think back if you ordered any last minute items. You didn’t. So maybe it’s a burglar. Or they just got the wrong home.

Knock.

Now you definitely need to call the police, because–

“Y/N, it’s me,”

Your eyes shoot open at the familiar voice. Should you go through with calling the police? You did tell him that you would. 

“I know you’re in there, I just– I just need to talk to you one more time before you leave, please,”

You sigh and weigh your options. Did you really want to carry the burden of what the conversation with him might hold all the way to California? Or would this one time be alright? Would you finally get closure and be able to forget about him once and for all?

You’re up and heading for the door when you choose. You open it to a disheveled Atsumu. He had eyebags and his eyes were halfway swollen and it makes you pity him. When he looks up at you, you swear his eyes sparkle a little.

“What do you want, Miya?” you start.

The name makes him flinch a bit, but he continues, “I know you don’t want to see me, but I just need to explain everything to you,”

Did you really want to relive the betrayal he put you through in extreme detail? Nonetheless, you felt bad, you didn’t think ending things with him would affect him this badly. You kick yourself mentally in rejoicing in the fact that you’d make him like this.

With a nod of your head, you move to the side, “Come in,”

When he enters your place, he’s looking around frantically. It’s definitely changed since the last time he was here.

“Already packed, I see,” he comments, “Are you excited?”

You’re confused at his words, but give him a response, “Yep,”

You both find seating in your living room across from each other. “Out with it,” you say.

It takes him a moment. He looks into your eyes, then down, then back up at you once again. His fingers are fidgety as he tries to find the courage and the words.

“I’m sorry,” is what he starts with. 

“You gave me a chance and I screwed it up, it’s no one’s fault but my own. I never meant for the picture to get out, I promise to you that I never ever sent it to anyone. I even deleted it,”

“Then how did she get it?” you question, desperate for answers. You loved your job, but that whole incident made it basically impossible for you to return to the team with it being how it used to be.

Your voice catches his attention and causes him to pause for a moment, “I– She admitted to going through my recently deleted. I was never going to do anything with it, I took it out of jealousy,” 

“But why? You hated me that day you took the picture. You’ve always hated me,”

“Not always, don’t say that,” his voice is desperate, “I don’t know why, but even before we started talking normally, I’d get jealous of you and Omi. I didn’t like the way seeing the two of you together would make me feel,”

Your silence allows him to continue.

“As for Angie, I don’t talk to her anymore. When she texted me that day when you left, that was the first time I’ve talked to her since the last time I met with her. I’ve been ignoring her texts and calls. I ended things with her because I felt myself getting more attached to you as the days went by, and I felt disgusted when I was with Angie,”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you feel like you should say something. You’re not sure what though. 

“Why’d you say she was your cousin? Why couldn’t you have told me the truth there and then?”

“Because things had just gotten good with you, Y/N. At first, I never wanted anything to do with you. I did everything to drive you away, yet you were always on my mind, it drove me insane. And even after all of that, you still gave me the time of day. I felt so lucky that you’d really given me a chance, that I felt like if I fumbled in any way, you’d slip away. It happened anyway though,”

His words sadden you. But you were definitely the stupid one for giving him a chance in the first place.

“From the very beginning, I just wanted to avoid you, Atsumu,” his name causes his eyes to widen, “But then you treated me like shit, just like you did in high school. And I absolutely hated you for it. But then everything began to shift, and it scared me. You became nice and it felt like you really cared about me. Everything changed and I felt myself beginning to like you, and you’d finally apologized to me so it felt like you really regretted everything you did to me,”

“I do regret what I’ve done to you–”

“Let me finish,” he nods in defeat, “So I gave you a chance, and it was fun. I thought it’d be different, that you would be,” 

“But no matter what, we reached the outcome I truly wanted to avoid. It was inevitable though, I suppose. Whether I had let you in or not, you were always going to hurt me,”

An awkward silence washes over the both of you. You hardly realized you had started to tear up. 

“Even now, I still like you, Atsumu,” you finally admit, “But you’ve hurt me so much, I feel like I’ll never be able to trust anyone ever again. Sometimes it feels like I’ll never even love again,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” is all he manages. 

“Your apologies mean nothing, Atsumu. At the end of the day, what’s done is done, and I don’t think we’ll ever be able to be what we wanted to be,” 

He’s crying now, but you don’t move to comfort him. Not when you couldn’t even help yourself.

“I’m moving away tomorrow, away from here, away from you,” you sigh through the tears, “I want to forget everything along with you. I want to be able to live my life without everything reminding me of you,”

“Y/N, please– stay. I’d do anything, just stay,” he’s desperate through his own slowly falling tears. And you can feel it yourself, he’s telling the truth.

“Please don’t,” you cry, his words daunting you, “You need to leave, Atsumu. I’ve heard you out, and you’ve heard me,”

You’re getting up and he’s frozen. You could practically see the thoughts racing through his mind. His eyes close and his head drops before he’s getting up.

“Thank you for everything, Atsumu,” you tell him, words caught between sniffles, “I wish you the best in the future,”

As he walks through the door frame he gives you a solemn look back, “Thank you for everything Y/N, thank you for giving me a chance,”

There’s a pause in time as the two of you look at each other, caught in the moment. You force yourself to shut the door, feeling like if you looked at him any longer, you’d fold all over again. You take a few deep breaths before wiping the tears at your eyes. Walking over to your couch, you resume the position you were in earlier. 

You had a long day ahead of you tomorrow, but for some reason you were calm. It felt like the clouds that had surrounded your heart for the past months had finally dissipated. For the first time in a while, it felt like you could breathe clearly. Your mind was finally clear. 

As you fell asleep in this place you’ve called home for nearly a year for the last time, you’re finally able to let go of everything. 

Goodbye Atsumu.

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[jadeddangel]

Creepypast & Marble Hornets headcannons:

Jeff the Killer:

100% sneaks into your house/ room just to wake you up randomly to spook you

If he ever took you on a date it would 100% be to the cheapest cinema in town cause my man's is broke

Your the breadwinner, you can make $2 a month and still be the breadwinner

He buys axe body spray and sags his jeans like a middle school boy and you can't convince me otherwise

Opened a nesquick Powdered milk tub with a table saw cause he couldn't get him open

Doesn't know how to undo child proof locks on meds no matter how many times you explain it to him

"No Jeff your not listening. Press down and then turn it," your voice scolded

"I'm trying! Damn you woman!!" Jeff yelled back

Yea, he never opened the jar right

Masky:

It started with you and Tim dating and then when you met masky you trying getting to know him

He ignores you at first, more focused on doing his job then dealing with his other half's lover

He's smart, he'll pick locks open jars and complete puzzles in no time flat

He doesn't make money but Tim does so indirectly he's the breadwinner

He'll start hanging out with you after getting tired of sleeping on the downstairs couch

He's not nice, like at all, he's very blunt and when it comes to any type of criticism, constructive or not, he's pointing out every miniscule flaw

Don't bother lying to him, he can see right through it and it pisses him off

It doesn't matter your gender or your sex. He's turning around when you change any form of your clothes. He's big on privacy

"Masky? C'mon masky, it's just a sweater you don't have to turn. I'm wearing a shirt underneath, " you sighed, pulling your sweater off

Masky shook his head. "I don't care sometimes you don't wear a shirt under them, and i don't wanna see your nipples," masky spoke bluntly

Yeaaaa, if you can't tell your sex life is totally (not) amazing with man

Tim:

As I said before Tim has a job, he Linda needs it to pay for his smoking habits

Speaking of smoking, he hates when you do any kind of drugs, he doesn't want you to end up like he did

He's surprising clingy behind closed doors and really likes being your little spoon

He constantly takes showers and cleans your shared home, even if no one except for you, him and masky will see it.

He has this bad habit of just buying whatever he craves, so when he goes to the store, expect the bill to be rather high

As I said before he's clingy behind closed doors but when it comes to pda the most he'll do is lock your pinkies together

"Tim, pleaseeeee I just wanna hold your hand! Just five minutes, and if you don't like it, you don't have to keep holding my hand. " You tried to bargain

Tim sighed "fine fine but you're giving me your box of cigarettes. Don't think I didn't smell them on you"

He has a sharp nose, so there's no point in trying to hide things from him

Hoodie:

Hoodie was beyond confused when he first met you, he had a whole "who what when where why?" Moment

You and brain both pay for everything so there's not really a breadwinner

Hoodie is rather quiet, it's not because he's awkward or shy, he just has nothing to say

Hoodie Hates coffee, he's more of a tea or energy drink guy

I hate to say this(no I dont), but he's a stoner, he hates all vape or smoking products except for weed

He usually sticks to weed vapes since it's less work and he can be a bit lazy when it comes to that

I mean his hygiene is ok he doesn't really shave or trim any thing but his beard but yknow he do him

Speaking of , he leaves his beard shavings all over the sink and leaves the toilet seat up

"HOODIE! GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE NOW" You shouted to get the man's attention

Hoodie walked in. "What?" He said monotonely

You pointed at the sink and then the toilet "pick up your fucking mess!!"

Hoodie shook his head "Nah I'm good. Thanks for the offer, though. "

You would probably try and beat him up if he couldn't just wollop our ass

Brian:

He's such a sweet boy,it like he's made out of cotton candy

He's mostly did cleaning and cooking on top of his job but after switching back from hoodie, he's out of commission for like a week

He picks up after himself, and does his own laundry and there's never beard trimmings in the sink

He occasionally forgets to put the toilet seat down but it's rather rare

He's not too clingy but he does cuddle up sometimes

HES A FUCKING FURNACE WHEN HE SLEEPS

"Brian pleaseee get off!! It's the middle of summer! It's too hot to be cuddling" you huffed sleepily

"Shhh just let me hold you.." Brian muttered

Ticci Toby:

Your the breadwinner. Period

You think this man has a job? Hah funny

He hates when he tics especially when you are trying to have intimate moments together

You guys have to be silly during sex especially when he has a verbal tic and just yells bird

"Fuck toby right there~" you moaned out holding onto his shoulders tightly

"I'm so c-*whistles* shit sorry~" toby moaned out a bit embarrassed

"Toby it's ok it's normal~.." you muttered a bit trying to keep your voice even

Toby nodded "fuck I lov-Birds!" Toby shouted

You both looked at eachother before bursting out laughing just holding eachother close

Overall aside from Toby's horrible moodswings at times and his "work" you guys have a pretty helpful relationship

Slenderman:

No, Just no

This man is toxic asf when you guys first meet, definitely a manipulator

He tones it down after a bit but still gaslights you into getting what he wants

When he gets angry, please down run from him- he will track you down and may or may not resort to physical violence to get you to learn your lesson

If you ask about the missing children he WILL gaslight you into thinking that's he's told you before and it hurts that you forgot and won't tell you again

Sex? What sex? You think he would let you even get close enought to see that shit happen hah very funny

"Slenderman? Cmon I'm sorry you know I didn't mean to hurt you.." you muttered softly

"No. I already told you, and you forgot.. it is insensitive of you and unwise of me to tell you again, " he responded through your mind. And though he doesn't have eyes, you could only assume he was glaring

He's not healthy for you, but you've got yourself into this for life and there's only 1 way to get out

Eyeless jack:

Just like Jeff he'll sneak into your room

You literally can't get rid of him

He won't talk or anything, just stand and stares

He doesn't cuddle and he barely touches you

He definitely tried to offer you a kidney as a way of telling you he appreciates you

No hygiene whatsoever, he doesn't shave and it takes a month before you even get him to shower

He mostly just grumbles and groans to let you know he understands what your saying

He's really smart, puzzles, locks ,and riddles are no match for him

He's blunt, when he does talk it's rare, bit it's honest and unfiltered

You guys barely have sex and honestly you've probably never seen his face

"Jack, please!! I just wanna see your face, " you whined, laying yourself over his lap

"I said no, and if you keep asking, I'll eat you. Literally, " Jack retorted

Yeaaaa he meant it literally and you could tell

[kentokrazy]

a/n: im so high and i couldn’t get this out of my head!!

cw: alcohol, death, spoilers? hints of relationships with reader

27 year old nanami kento!!

* 27yearold!nanami who still throws his jacket and shoes to the side after a long day

* 27yearold!nanami’s who the morninngs he ignores his alarm clock and gets dressed half asleep sometimes puts on mismatched socks

* 27yearold!nanami who still drinks too much, but he doesn’t go out and sits on the couch watching documentaries

* 27yearold!nanami who when red faced and drunk, sits on the floor with you in the kitchen. you’re both in pajamas, fingers greasy and eating fried chicken you ordered

* 27yearold!nanami who goes to the gym and still listens to his high school playlist

* 27yearold!nanami who doesn’t wear suits on the weekends. opting for a simple shirt but still fitted jeans and shoes

* 27yearold!nanami who gets messy hair in the mornings and when he has nowhere to go, doesn’t fix it

* 27yearold!nanami who still cries when drunk because he missed his best friend

* 27yearold!nanami who walked home, so drunk he couldn’t walk when he got mad at you in your apartment when you both were talking about your shared time at jujutsu high.

* you brought up how haibara and geto were gone, and it was only a matter time before you two were too.

* 27yearold!nanami who still slouches like he did as a teenager when he’s especially tired.

* 27yearold!nanami who ever since his first job has hated staying later than usual.

* 27yearold!nanami who still silently wants to fight the “man” and hates himself for not putting up a fight and turning selfish.

* 27yearold!nanami who goes to the gym more and more because he can’t stop thinking about how yuu and yuuji laugjh the same say.

* 27yearold!nanami who still eats cup noodles and gas station onigiri

* 27yearold!nanami who got so drunk that he got in an e-bay auction battle and bought a $629 cologne and when he smelled it it smelled like nothing.

* 27yearold!nanami who discovers the cologne was empty and the seller was selling the bottle after he re-read the description.

* 27yearold!nanami who sometimes breaks out his old nintendo system, a bunch of junk food and plays his old games.

* 27yearold!nanami who drinks out of the juice bottle when it’s early enough

* 27yearold!nanami who pretends he knows nothing about the internet but will turn to yuuji, peer down over his glasses and in the most stale voice he can manage then say. “chat let me cook.” in response to yuuji’s worry for more grade one curse killing,”

* yuuji didn’t know who he could tell

* 27yearold!nanami who irons his suits and clothes. gets them tailored. wearing his band t-shirt from college that still doesn’t quite fit anymore. its got holes on the hems.

* 27yearold!nanami who just sometimes drinks the cheapest beer he can find when hes super desperate

* 27yearold!nanami who still buys two drinks at the vending machine and when he gives one to yuuji, he feels like he’s back to 17.

* 27yearold!nanami who is 99% of the time very strict with his diet and exercise. but sometimes hes just lazy

* 27yearold!nanami with a retirement fund.

* 27yearold!nanami with an account for his future children.

* 27yearold!nanami who sometimes takes a while changing his sheets

* 27yearold!nanami who still laughs at dick jokes he sees on the internet

* 27yearold!nanami who can be really stiff and anal… is still a 27 year old

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Becoming the Breadwinner

David has been a real pain since he turned 18. The kid refuses to get a job, skips school, and spends his time playing video games on the couch. The only effort he puts into anything is girls, and even that he quickly loses interest in.

I love my little brother, but I expect more from him than that. When our parents stepped out of the picture, I was the big brother who stepped up. I dropped out of highschool and got a full time gig at a garage. It was grueling work, but I always put in overtime to make sure David could finish school and play basketball.

Now my lazy brother rarely does either of those things.

"David, did you really just sit on the couch all day," my voice rises as I get home from a long day, "You had chores to do around here."

"I'll get to them tomorrow," he mumbles, staring at the screen.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I stomp over to the TV and turn it off.

"What the hell, bro!" he snaps, "Turn it on."

"No TV until you mow the goddamn lawn!" I roar.

"Lay off me, dad." he scoffs sarcastically, "You used to be fun, bro."

"Oh, am I not fun anymore? Sorry, I don't enjoy putting in 7 days of work a week so you can bum around all day!"

"Whatever, bro," he resigns. I can already tell I'm not going to win. He's already staring at his phone, and there's no way in hell David is picking himself off of this couch tonight.

"I didn't want to resort to this," I explain, "But I don't have a choice, do I? You're going to take on more responsibility from now on, and your going to like it," I say firmly.

"Shut up, bro," he rolls his eyes at me.

"No, you shut it! I'm tired of paying for our house, our food, our lives while you refuse to appreciate any of it! It's my turn to be lazy!"

"Your nuts, bro," David groans, but he shifts in his seat, suddenly growing uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Maybe I am, but you can feel it happening, right?"

"What's happening, bro?" my little brother laughs, but his smile lines deepen as the skin on his face becomes more tired and loose.

The kid's shoulders broaden beneath his t-shirt and his legs lengthen as he fidgets awkwardly on the couch. Then his skin roughens before it looks like it's almost inflating. A small layer of pudge fills out his cheeks and then his neck. His entire torso thickens as his metabolism weakens. David's previously flat stomach grows into a paunchy belly that his now heavy pecs can finally rest on.

"What's happening?" David cries, but his voice cracks and the second word is said several octaves lower than normal.

"It's your turn to play dad," is all I say.

"What?" the deep voice in his throat whimpers, as a thick patch of wiry hair bud around his jaw and neck.

"And I'm tired of our lack of finances" I add, ignoring the desperate look on my brother's rapidly aging face, "You work at the bank. Don't you, dad?"

"I'm not dad!" he says firmly, but between his deeply commanding voice and matured body, it was hard to see him as anything else.

His t-shirt eventually transforms into a collared button up as a wide tie rolls down from his thick neck. A heavy brown belt appears beneath his gut, tightly tucking his slacks into his soft body.

David holds a hand to his creased forehead and groans, "Bro, what's going on?"

"Bro?" I laugh emphatically, "Why are you calling me bro, dad?"

David pauses and then let's out an amused chuckle, "I don't know, son. It was a long day at the bank."

"You're such a weirdo, old man," I add, taking on the bratty tone David had previously been using with me.

My new dad let's out an exaggerated groan as he pulls himself off the couch, "Why are you dressed like a grease monkey, son? You finally get a job?"

I glance down at the worn blue clothes that make up my mechanic uniform. I won't be needing these anymore.

"Nah, dad," I laugh, "I thrifted these. They're vintage."

David let's out a chuckle, "You kids are something else. I'll start on dinner. Chicken sound good for tonight?"

"Whatever," I answer heading for the gaming console in David's old room, "I'm gonna play some videogames. Just let me know when the food's ready."

"Sure thing, pal," my new dad feighns a smile as he steps into the kitchen.

I spent the rest of the night relaxing in David's old room while my father cooked dinner before going straight to bed. He had to be up early to shower and shave before heading to the bank.

Meanwhile, I called the garage and quit. David would be taking care of us for a while. It was his turn to bring in the income, and it was my turn to coast off of his long hours.

[tired-biscuit]

istg what I wouldn't give to ride Kiba after having a horrible day

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // established relationship, domestic comfort.

wc: 1.9k

coming home to find him dressed in sweatpants and manspreading on the couch; looking warm and cozy and just so… boyfriend.

he greets you with a lazy grin and a little ‘hey, babe’ when he sees you locking the front door behind you, and after the day you’ve just had, he’s like a sight for sore eyes.

your bag lands with an audible thud on the floor; the shoes are quick to follow. keys get tossed to the side, as does the umbrella that you’d uselessly been carrying around the entire day for absolutely nothing since the weather app had decided to fuck you over. you’re tired, overstimulated in a sense, but completely sucked dry of any emotion at the same time.

the clothes you’re wearing feel overly tight on your body and the scarf that you had only just unwrapped from around your neck felt like it was choking you during the entire train ride home. it makes you want to gather them all up in a pile, pour gasoline over it and set it right on fire.

but now that you’re home, being greeted by your significant other — who looks so appealing after his shower, by the way — eases the discomfort a little bit. so you rush to get to him as fast as you can, shimmying out of your coat along the way, and dropping it in the middle of the hallway because you cannot even be bothered enough to hang it in its rightful place.

i mean, it’s not like it matters. one of you will pick it up later… probably.

and so, the soft pitter-patter of footsteps ensues.

despite watching you this entire time, kiba still lets out a little noise of startlement when you drop everything to collide with him and climb into his lap.

“aw… did my girl have a rough day?” he inquires playfully, smoothing down your hair when you finally stop squirming on top of him.

your arms wrap around his neck as you nod. “worst day ever, actually.”

“mm.” he gives you a moment while he considers the statement and how serious it is, offering you a chance to add more to it. but since you don’t, there’s a small pause before he asks, “wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“not really.” you blink, trying to ignore the weight that sits atop your eyelids. you’re just so tired and you feel so empty; work has been draining you like crazy. “maybe later.”

“okay,” is all he says, sensing that you don’t want him to push into the matter. “later, then.”

settled in, he strokes your back while he continues to watch the movie, listening and occasionally chuckling at the little sighs of displeasure that you keep letting out whenever he stops. his touch is loving and his palm is broad. it feels good whenever he drags it along the length of your spine that you’ve covered up with a thin white blouse. up and down — solace.

“i made dinner by the way,” he mumbles at some point. “it’s on the stove.”

“yeah?” this makes you perk up. food sounds nice; especially the promise of a warm meal that’s actually cooked instead of microwaved. “what did you make?”

“just some pasta. didn’t have time for somethin’ more fancy since i got off work later than usual, but i did make that sauce that you like.”

“ugh, thank you.” your gratitude shows in the way you rest your forehead against his shoulder and hug him tighter. “did you do the dishes too?”

briefly faltering, he says, “i loaded up the dishwasher… does that count?”

it draws a little laugh out of you. “lazy ass.”

“shush.”

you obey for once, deciding to stay quiet when he shushes you. long moments of comfortable silence pass once more; there’s nothing to fill the quiet except for the TV.

nuzzling into the crook of his neck so that you can hide your face from the world, you inhale that deep, almost spicy scent that is so unique to him and only him, before you press a gentle kiss right on top of his pulse point, disturbing its calm rhythm and urging it into something just a little bit faster.

for as long as you can remember, kiba has always been extremely responsive to you, even at the simplest of pecks aimed at his neck. but doing it one time isn’t nearly enough, so you tug on the collar of his t-shirt to get better access and kiss it again. and again.

by the fourth time, he feels the need to readjust in his seat and to wrap his hands around your hips.

“you trying to tell me something?” he mumbles, paying attention to how you drag your teeth over his sweet spot every so often now.

his eyes flutter shut at the sensation and squeeze when you part your lips wider and your teeth finally sink into the skin. the bite isn’t nearly as deep as the one he’d be able to give you, taking his sharp canines into consideration, but it does feel just as good nevertheless.

it makes his toes curl against the carpet and a deep exhale escape his mouth. his body tingles with growing warmth that starts in the pit of his stomach, slowly awakening and buzzing with what he guesses is lewd anticipation.

“no,” you reply, your voice slipping into something deeper; more sultry as you continue your ministrations. “just wanna kiss you a little bit… i missed you.”

the smile in his voice is as audible as ever as he says, “is that so?”

you suck on his neck extra hard in answer — it’s not strong enough to leave a hickey, but it does make his cock twitch in his underwear as blood rushes below his waist.

before he can say anything or act like a smartass, your fingers tangle into his hair. it’s thick and rich; the chestnut curls fill your hands as you slide them to the back of his head and tug at the roots.

a small grunt escapes him at that, planting a small kernel of pride within your chest which begins to bloom rather quickly. he leans back against the backrest of the couch, letting you touch him however you wish because he plans on doing the same.

his hands slip underneath your skirt, familiar and skillful. he bunches it up, causing wrinkles to appear in the fabric as he exposes your thighs, then your ass. he gropes the plush flesh then, squeezing and caressing; making the soft cotton of your panties stretch with the action.

the touching eventually makes you start to grind against him, and after spending so many years together, your bodies have learned to move as one during it. when he bucks his hips up, yours press down. when your back arches, his hand fills the empty space along the curve.

it’s as simple as breathing.

your feet are tucked underneath you and are propped on his knees, white thigh-high socks rubbing against his sweatpants. warm wetness pools between your legs as you rub your clothed pussy against the bulge that’s now become quite apparent despite the layers of clothes keeping you from each other. even your panties succeed in stimulating your clit.

you smile as you reach between you so that you can wrap your hand around the ridge of his cock and begin to stroke it the exact way he likes it.

meanwhile, kiba huffs and busies himself with kissing the small patch of uncovered skin near your collarbone. if you’re not careful, he might just end up ripping your pretty blouse so that his mouth and hands can reach your tits — lord knows it wouldn’t be the first time. he’s never been patient enough to work with so many dainty buttons, especially when he’s horny out of his fucking mind.

it’s the reason why you push him back against the backrest with the help of your fingers digging into his chest. why you kiss him gently when he looks at you with big, lovesick pupils and a prominent blush tinting his cheeks.

gosh, you want to marry this man.

“what’s wrong?” his exhale is laboured as he rasps the words, signature drawl instantly coming forward. his voice is so deep and riddled with want that it makes your pussy clench around nothing. you can’t wait to have him inside you.

“nothing’s wrong,” you reply, fingers working to unbutton your blouse. “i just wanna get this off real quick.”

“lemme help,” he says as he reaches for you, but you’re quick to slap his hand away.

“no, you’ll ruin it just like you ruined the last one.” another kiss is given, this time an apologetic one that’s aimed at his forehead. “just sit there and look pretty while i handle this, okay?”

surprisingly, he does. granted, he’s terribly impatient as he waits; you can feel his knee bouncing underneath you and his piercing stare burning holes into your face, but by the time the blouse and the bra are both tossed to the side, he’s been obedient enough to earn himself a reward.

“wanna sit on it now, ki,” you mumble, the corners of your lips twitching upwards again as you watch him suck your nipple into his mouth the second it’s exposed.

his nose smushes against the fat of your breast while his hand gropes the other, thumb swiping over the bud, making you even more sensitive than you already are since your period is about to pay you a visit soon. and as if that wasn’t enough already, whenever you feel the tips of his sharp fangs graze your skin, it sends exciting adrenaline coursing your veins.

“c’mon,” you insist, “you’ll get to do that later.”

he kisses your nipple softly when you push him back again, and blows on the saliva he’s left there so that he can watch you shiver.

it’s why he’s practically musing as he says, “okay, sweetheart.”

you work together so that he can pull his sweatpants low enough for his cock to become free. after a couple of more kisses and strokes, you use your own saliva instead of getting up to venture off for lube, and guide him inside you with the help of your hand, while his keeps your panties tucked to the side.

connected at long last, you both let out faint sounds of pleasure. it’s nice; warm and wet. it makes you want to kiss each other silly from how in love you are.

“you wanna take over or should i?” he asks, chocolate brown eyes glued to where your clit kisses his dark pubic hair now. besides dripping with your own arousal, you’ve also used so much spit that the hairs glisten with moisture. he thinks it’s hot as hell.

“mm, you do it,” you utter softly, sighing. “i’m too tired to even exist right now, much less ride you.”

“tsch… and then you have the nerve to call me the lazy one,” he teases with a click of his tongue against his teeth, but immediately wraps his arms around you so that he can bring you closer to his chest.

you let out a soft little whimper when he draws his hips back and ruts them into you slowly, making another wave of pleasure wash over your body, replacing the badness that was gathering throughout the day.

kiba is a good boyfriend.

you can trust him to rail the negativity out of you.

[charlie-lec-stories]

Better // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: You can cure the enmity between Max and Charles, but never their competitive drive.

Warnings: A tiny little bit of angst, but not much. Charles and Max taking things too far (like always).

Author’s Note: A story that explores the power battles inside a poly-relationship where there are three dominant people. A little story time: I wrote this while living in Argentina -something about me, I'm Spaniard but been living in Argentina for like, forever- and since my characters were inspired by friends of mine, the characters were originally Argentinian. I'm actually too lazy to think of another nationality for the female character and also it'd take too long to change it all the time to do something more culturally neutral, so I will leave it like that, sometimes you may find some things about her being latina, but not too much, so if you'd rather ignore it, knock yourself out! Rate: +16 (inappropriate language)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She loved them. She really did, with her whole heart, but she had never felt so tempted to throw them both out the window as right now. It started as a harmless breakfast, just the three of them, and what was just a simple comment of how much she loved the perfume Max brought for her, became the spark that ignited Charles' competitive side. He just couldn't help it, he had to say that the Channel one he brought was better on her. She never said anything about Max's being better, she just said that she loved it, because she did. Of course, Max took that personal, and five minutes later they were spraying her wrists with both perfumes and pressuring her to choose which one was better. Because that was the word that always meant trouble around them. They had fought their whole lives to settle which one of them was better and they just needed to bring that into the relationship too. Who wore the best outfit, who was a better driver, who was better at video games, who played football better, who was smarter, who read more books, who could name more capital cities, who had more points on Grill the Grid, you could make her moan first, who could unclasp her bra faster, who lasted more, who got less tired, who brought the best gifts... It was constant. At first, they would argue about it, random accusations of cheating at every game or challenge they faced, convinced that the other one simply couldn't be better. Mean comments thrown in the middle of situations that should be about love and pleasure. After a few times of Y/N simply grabbing her clothes and getting dressed again, leaving them alone in the room, they stopped arguing, but never competing.

"C'mon, mon amour. I know that you love this one". Charles insisted, caressing her hand and smiling at her.

"I do-"

"I told you". Charles cut her off to show Max who won.

"She loves mine more, that's why she wears it all the time. Right, Schat?". She just wanted to be swallowed by the earth.

"Of course I love yours-".

"More, you love it more". Max finished the sentence for her. She was not going to say 'more', she was planning on saying 'too', but it was pointless to argue. It was true, she wore Max's often, but she also kept Charles' for important occasions, it was just that both perfumes were for different types of situations. Charles' was too elegant and expensive to use it everyday, and Max's has perfect to wear on her daily basis. But they didn't want to hear about that.

"She didn't wear it for the gala last year. I don't think she likes it that much, Max". Charles was definitely looking for an argument.

"She just said it, are you deaf?". Things were escalating quickly.

She barely got out of that alive.

The next week it was race week, and they were already on edge with the competitiveness. The first free practice session went alright, Charles was the fastest, 0.011 faster than Max, and the Dutch just couldn't take it. He wanted to do better than Charles in practice two, but he just simply couldn't. When it came to speed, Charles was an expert and Max had a hard time accepting that. He complained the whole drive back to the hotel. She had agreed to go to and back from the paddock with him because they were staying at the same hotel. He talked about Charles and his powerful Ferrari engine like they were Netherlands' number one enemies, stating the he was kicking Charles' ass the next day at practice three. She just let him talk, take things off his chest. It was just Friday and they were already racing. She was competitive, you can't thrive in Formula One without competitiveness, but she did the best she could to leave that out of the relationship. Even if she wanted to win and do better than them on the sport, she was aware that love celebrates each other victories and supports through the defeats. Once back at the hotel, Max did what he always did when he felt like he had given a bad performance on the track, he searched for reassurance. Sex had been, though the whole history of human kind, one of the most primal ways of getting someone else's approval, and even if she enjoyed it, it wasn't the most healthy coping mechanism for his frustration.

"Max, we should sleep". She said while he kissed her neck and pulled at her clothes, they had barely set foot inside the room and he was already all over her. "We have practice tomorrow, and Qualifying. We need the sleep".

"I'll make you feel good and then we sleep". He kept softly pushing her towards the bed, his hand sneaking under her shirt after she didn't take it off as fast as he wanted her to. "I promise, Schat, please".

"Okay, but we can't stay up too late".

They did stay up late, and the next day she was extremely tired, the few hours she got of sleep not enough for her to be properly rested. Charles noticed instantly what they had been up to the night before. It wasn't the first time that Y/N and Max had alone time, just as he had with her sometimes or as the two men did whenever she was out with friends or back at home visiting family. But the sight of her fighting sleep and Max's big ass smirk when he passed him by just fueled Charles' most petty side. It was the implied 'I won' that made Charles furious. Max did better at free practice three and then, got pole in Qualifying. Charles ended up fourth, behind Y/N on second place and George Russell between them. Now it was his turn to be pissed. He went straight back to his hotel and sent Y/N a message, telling her that he wanted to see her. She knew what to expect, so when Charles pinned her against the door, she wasn't surprised.

"Don't. We're not doing it, Charles". He stopped attacking her collarbones instantly and looked up at her eyes. She was dead serious. "I mean it".

"Okay". Breathing heavily, he moved backwards just a few centimeters, giving her some space. "Can I ask why?". She huffed. "I know that you don't own me an explanation, I'm just curious. I promise".

"I'm just tired. I need to sleep". She looked genuinely exhausted. "I can't be the referee of your competition with Max tonight".

"I don't want to make love to you just to compete with Max, Amour". She scoffed, feeling kind of insulted.

"Tell yourself that enough and you might believe it". She was properly angry and Charles started to recognize that things were going too far.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way". But she was way past apologies.

"You're just a pair of troglodytes!". Charles did a mental note to search for that word later, it definitely wasn't good, but he just didn't know how bad it was. "I'm sick and tired of being in the middle of your little beef. If you want to know who fucks better just go ahead and fuck each other and leave me out of it". With that, she stormed out of the room.

"Troglodytes veut dire... hommes des cavernes? Putain". (Troglodytes means... cavemen? Fuck).

They did fuck up bad.

Charles woke up the next morning with Max pounding his fist on his room's door. He checked the time before getting up, a lot earlier than when he needed to be up. He walked to the door and let Max in. His boyfriend was notoriously anxious, he kept rambling in Dutch and mixing it with some English words. From what Charles could grasp, Y/N refused to let him into her room last night and then left him on seen when he texted her goodnight. Charles already knew she was mad but for Max, she had just gotten angry out of nowhere. "We are troglodytes", Charles informed Max, who looked kind of surprised that Charles would use that word. But she was right, as a pair of cavemen, they just kept sizing each other, as if being better would make them more worthy, and through all that competition, they both lost. They had to fix it, whatever it took. If they wanted to be better so bad, then they had to do better. They sat together and thought about what they should do. Buy a gift? Make her some good dinner? Charles started writing a list of options on his phone. Max was more worried about starting on the first row with her at the race. If there was something that could scared them, it was their girlfriend driving angry. He was in trouble. At the paddock, Max and Charles were given the cold shoulder, not only by their girl, but also by Oscar and Lando, who most surely were up to date with what happened.

"Lights out and... We're racing in Hungary!". Max was forced out of the track in a blink, the Mercedes car that started next to him taking P1 and sprinting off. He went down to P3, overtaken by George too. It was kind of embarrassing, how easily she stole the race from him, just like that. Charles was close behind, in P4, and he knew that he had to build some distance because Charles couldn't be trusted with any gap. The Mercedes just flew off and Max decided to focus on keeping P3 and getting himself into the podium. P5 was Fernando Alonso, to say that Max was worried would be an understatement. He had to fight Charles while also making sure that Fernando didn't overtook them both. After his first pit stop, he got to pass George -who went down to P5- and get P2, Charles still visible on his right mirror, trying to take the inside line. They mede a little contact at the turn and Christian complained over the radio. He was in trouble, but Max couldn't do anything, the car was slow and he was doing what he could. Ferrari was so quick he could barely keep Charles at bay. GP, his race engineer, informed him that Fernando was on DRS range to the Ferrari number 16 and that the chances of the monegasque getting overtook were high. Max tried to decide: getting close to Charles and risk P2 or put some distance and then fight Fernando, who was faster than his boyfriend.

"I'll push, then focus on Fernando". He couldn't concentrate on everyone, he had to choose. Leaving Charles on his own gave Max time to build a gap with Fernando, and also made the Ferrari waste more tyre, giving him an advantage over Charles after Fernando inevitably overtook Max in a few laps. At least he could get P3.

No one was shocked when Y/N won the race, she had driven like a beast, completely untouchable. After parking her Mercedes behind the P1 sign, she ran to her team and hugged everyone. That gave Charles time to weight himself and take all of his head protections before running to her. Even if the world didn't know about Max, their relationship was public and they agreed on keeping it like that. He waited patiently for her to finish with her team and then walked to her, helping her take off her helmet and balaclava and kissing her fondly. He might be P4, but his girl won the Hungarian Grand Prix and he couldn't be happier. Max walked to them and hugged his girl, kissing the side of her head and telling her how proud he was of her. She walked out to the podium with her chest filled with pride, the Argentinian national anthem putting a smile on her face. Charles found himself proud too, as he watched his girl get her trophy and golden medal, Max standing at her right and looking at her with adoration.

The drive back to Max and Y/N's hotel was quick, them leading the way and Charles following. She was in a better mood, but she still felt like they needed to apologize properly to her for being a pair of machos, as she called them when she complained to Lando and Oscar. It was actually the brit's idea to fuel her anger to make her a menace on the track. The McLarens could barely grasp P10 there so he knew that they weren't winning that race, if he had to choose someone to get P1, he'd choose her. He made it clear: "They fight to see who's better but they never stop to consider that you could be better than them both. Doesn't that make you angry?". And damn angry she was. He wanted to watch the world burn to the ground so he could gossip about it later. "Show them who's truly the best". She walked out of Max's car not even looking back at him and completely ignored Charles, who parked next to them. They both followed to her room in complete silence. Inside, they sat on the bed and looked down at their laps, not knowing what to expect. Will she yell at them? Will she threaten with braking up? She opened a bottle of vodka from the minibar and poured 1/3 on each of the three glasses she had on the room's table, filling the rest of the glasses with orange juice. At least, if she was going to scream at them, they could down it with some alcohol. But after handing them the glasses, she never raised her voice. On the contrary, she changed her clothes in silence and sat on the little couch in front of the bed, at the other side of the room.

"I was named the most stylish person in motorsport by Vogue, trice. I have a 7 time World Champion as my mentor and Sebastian fucking Vettel as my race engineer. I can play almost every sport. I finished high school with perfect grades. I can play the viola and cello. I can sing. I have the best score on Grill the Grid. I'm the first woman to ever win a Grand Prix and the first latina to ever race a whole F1 race. I bagged Monaco and F1's golden boy and the most dominating driver of the decade. I just have to give you one kiss and you're on your knees, desperate and begging". She made a pause and Charles and Max looked up, watching her observe the bottom of her glass like it was the most interesting thing. She sighed and stood up, walking up and stopping in front of them. They looked at her from below, following her every move. She placed the glass on the nightstand and clicked her tongue, disappointment tinting her next words. "You both acted like pricks, the only things that you didn't measure against each other were your dicks, and if you did, I don't wanna know". They both looked away, blushing, the answer to that comment revealed, and she rolled her eyes. "This competition of yours has been the most pathetically macho thing you have done and you forced me to not only witness it but, also, be a part of it".

"We're sorry, Schat, we-".

"I'm not done talking. Don't interrupt". Max shut up and nodded. "What you did sucks and I should totally be mad at you for some time, but I think you learned your lesson tonight, after the demolishing victory I pulled against you". They both nodded eagerly, happy that she was forgiving them.

"Thank you, mon amour. We'll try and do better". Charles said and reached out to her, his hand coming to the back of her knee to bring her to his lap. She decide to place each leg between theirs, sitting on both Charles' left leg and Max's right. She took their faced in her hands gently, to make them look at her.

"You're welcome". They sent her their best smiles. "I know that you'll keep competing against each other to see who's better... just know that if I'm in the picture, you're always fighting for P2".

They both were well aware of that.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay, since I've seen that most of you guys like this series, I'll give it priority over other stories. Thank you for reading!

[dilfl0v3rss]

https://twitter.com/lovingthegoods/status/1679339873327775744?s=46&t=XNPHyJBqVLim8WnaQQHPig

Which one of the baldies do u think this is

If yk how do u think yn put herself in this situation 🤨?

arannnnn😩

“early in the morning and you leaving” you mumbled as you watched your man get dressed to go get an early morning practice in. aran sighed, continuing to walk into the closet for his sneakers as he replied. “mama i’ll be back in a couple hours” he said, his morning voice already sending a rush of arousal through your body. you needed to find a way to keep this man home.

aran walked out of the closet, shirtless and still very much tired with his sneakers in his hand. he went to put them in his bag, but stopped when he glanced up at you in the bed. just from the way you were looking at he could tell what type of timing you were on. your eyes were tired and low as you looked at him through your pretty lashes, your palms under your chin as you looked up at him while laying on your stomach. you had nothing but your bra and panties on as you slightly tilted your head.

a knowing smirk made it’s way onto his lips as aran began to shake his head at you. “mama no.…i gotta go” he mumbled, but you ignored him. you slowly crawled towards his side of the bed turning around so your back was facing him before giving him a good view of your ass. “just the tip pa” you said, your voice soft as you watched your man physically struggle to look away from you. aran’s dick was already hard, his morning wood never being taken care of since he got dressed so early. his hands slowly moved towards your ass, palms moving slowly on the flesh as he pressed his print on your clothed pussy. “i reaaaally gotta go princess” he groaned, the feeling of you against him not helping as he slid his hands up your back and to your pretty waist.

you began to rock your hips back into him, loving the way his deep groans fell from his lips. this was his breaking point, the sight of your ass all over him made aran forget all about the practice he was supposed to be going to. “just the tip aight?”

“fuckkk daddy s’too deep” you whined, your hand flying back to grab at his wrist. aran quickly slapped your hand away, deepening his trusts to draw out more of your pretty moans. “you wanted it so let daddy give it t’you” his morning voice making your arousal increase as he continued to pound into you from behind. this was not what you were expecting from him this morning. you thought the two of you would have some nice regular morning sex, but aran was much more pent up than you thought.

“cmon mama fuck me back, it’s your dick don’t be lazy” he grumbled, yanking your hips back harder to meet his thrusts. you felt him so deep in you it was hard for you to even think of anything other than the feeling of him. you brought your hand back again, this time on his abs as you tried your best to get him to take some of his inches out. “ohhh my goddd aran pleaseeee” an annoyed sigh left his lips as he grabbed your hand and pinned it behind your back. giving you all of his inches as he quickened his pace.

“all that teasing you was doing and now you tryna run?” he chuckled. you let out a muffled “uhh huh”, having no shame in what you did or what you were trying to do right now that you were getting consequences for your actions. “i t-thought you was tired daddy” you whined as you tightly gripped his hand behind your back, squeezing as hard as you can while taking the deep strokes your boyfriend gave you. aran twitched inside of you at the sight, your pretty ass clapping back onto him as you tried your hardest to take the brutal thrusts he was giving you. he tucked his lip behind his teeth, biting so hard he almost drew blood before he spoke.

“i hope youn got nowhere t’be today cause ima be in it for while mama”

[ranhaitanisgf]

could i request headcanons for rindou looking after a fem reader who is recovering from getting sick (ie: more tired than normal, kinda grumpy, still dealing w headaches/congestion or more generic symptoms) ? i am recovering from COVID and i need rindou to look after me so bad LOLL

sickness begone!!

synopsis: how would rindou act with an s/o recovering from sickness?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ hiii thank you for requesting!! :3 i was wanting to make this a bit longer but i couldn't think of anything else D: i hope it's alright and that everyone enjoys !! xoxo [just as a note, i unintentionally didn't end up using any gendered specifications, so this is gender neutral! i hope you dont mind ╥﹏╥]

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ rindou haitani x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 1.4k+

masterlist

❥ rindou is the number one complainer. he isn’t complaining about having to take care of you, no, he’s complaining about how stupid you are for getting sick. it’s an extremely annoying thing to hear when you’re already not feeling well, but it’s his own way of showing that he cares about you!

“how did you even get this sick? you need to take better care of yourself.”  “how ‘m i supposed to know…” “you need to be more careful.” “yep.”  “are you listening to me?” “just give me the damn glass of water.”

❥ he’s actually quite unsure of how to take care of someone who is ill, so he ends up calling his brother for help, asking what he’s supposed to do, (‘aniki, they're burning up, what do i do?’ ‘you don’t know what to do when someone’s sick? you don’t know anything at all?’ ‘i’m hanging up.’ ‘no, no, ‘m sorry, i’ll help you.’). 

❥ when he gets the basic rundown from ran and gets all the supplies he needs, he does his best to try and make you feel better! he doesn’t really say anything the whole time, just squinting at the directions on all the little packages, muttering about how ‘these words are too damn small…’. 

❥ he’s surprisingly soft though, his worry for you taking over his usual snarkiness. he’ll gently brush your hair out of your face and will periodically wipe any sweat away from your face with a damp cloth, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. he’ll stay by your bedside for almost the whole time you are there, watching over you and making sure that everything is alright, (he also insists on helping you walking to the bathroom or kitchen even if you can walk completely fine). 

❥ does not care if you bitch and moan about the bitter taste of the medicine. you will be taking it, no matter what. 

❥ he makes sure to check your temperature regularly, letting out an annoys tsk when he notices that your temperature is still high, (might curse out whatever virus that is tormenting your body at the moment).

❥ his snarkiness immediately comes back when you start to get better, though it comes in the form of nagging like an old grandma. 

“hey, why’re you going out?”  “‘m going to get decongestant.”  “stupid, don’t go by yourself. stay here, i’ll go.” 

❥ he just does it because he cares, so don’t get too annoyed with him!

❥ he secretly compares you to a lazy cat when he sees you lounging around your apartment, sprawled out all over the sofa or even just on the floor, (of course, he will never voice this, but he thinks it's rather cute). sometimes if you’ve ended up falling asleep there, he will snap a few pictures because he thinks you’re absolutely adorable!

❥ i think that rindou knows what it’s like to get bad headaches since having bad vision can sometimes cause them, so he understands what you’re going through when you complain of having a pounding pain in your temples. without any sort of explanation, he’ll tell you to lay down with him in bed or on your couch and he’ll gently massage your temples, doing his best to help ease your pain, (if you try to tease him or bring it up later, he will pretend like he has no idea what you’re talking about). 

❥ when you snap at him while you’re recovering, he’ll either completely ignore you or will call you an idiot and then will continue whatever he was doing. either way, he won’t ever get upset with you and he won’t snap back either since he knows that you’re not really in your right mind. 

❥ rindou likes to sleep, (not as much as ran) but he will stay up for however long you can’t sleep for whatever reason there may be, whether it’s congestion, a headache, or any other pains in your body. he’ll carefully smooth his hand over your forehead to get rid of any sweat and will hold you close to him for comfort, gently rubbing his hand in circles on your back until you fall asleep, (if you say a word about it, he will once again pretend like it didn’t happen. he is the biggest tsundere). 

❥ he does not know how to cook, but he will try his damndest to make you some good meals so that you don’t have to cook. every time you try to help him he will roll his eyes and tell you to go back to bed, ‘don’t worry, i’ve got this’, (he does not got this). he’s on the phone with ran the whole time, which is odd because he doesn’t know how to cook either. 

“oh…wow! it looks great!” “why did you pause?”  “uh, no reason…!” 

❥ it’s the thought that counts…?

❥ you guys end up ordering takeout, and you have to comfort rindou for the whole night that you were very appreciative that he tried to cook for you, (he’s not outwardly upset, but it’s easy to tell that he’s sulking). 

❥ you know those people who tell you to drink water whenever you complain about something? that’s rindou while you’re recovering. your head hurts? did you drink water? your stomach is achey? did you drink water? you’re really dizzy? did you drink water? it’s not even like he knows that water will fix any of those things, he just read an article on how sick people should have a lot of fluids, so he’s constantly shoving water and electrolyte drinks in your face. 

❥ binge watching is the number one activity to do while you’re sick, so rindou will watch any show you want to watch with you. he doesn’t exactly say why, but it’s because he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s leaving you alone, especially while you’re sick, (it doesn’t really make sense to anybody but him). 

“wait, hold on. so mary was dating mark but then she cheated on him with kendall?”  “right?! it’s so crazy!!” 

❥ he somehow gets into the crazy reality tv shows you watched because of your boredom. 

❥ going back to this note, he’s not just by your side 24/7 while you’re sick, but also while you’re recovering. it’s completely irrational, but he has this fear that you’re suddenly going to collapse and get even sicker than you were before if he’s not there, so he will not let you leave his sight, (unless he’s going to the store to get something for you). 

❥ if you want something, while you’re recovering is the time to ask for it! rindou is especially weak to your requests, and even more so when you’re feeling unwell, so if you ask him to buy you five pints of ice cream, he’ll end up buying ten, (he enjoys seeing the grin on your face, so he thinks it’s worth it). 

❥ he does not care if you’re sick or still recovering, he will keep kissing you, and no, he doesn’t care if he gets sick. why should he let some stupid virus dictate whether or not he can kiss you? he might not seem like it, but he lives off of the affection that he gets from you, so he can’t even imagine not being able to kiss you. 

❥ no matter the length of your hair, he will braid it. it’s a strange thing, and he doesn’t have an answer for you when you ask him what he’s doing. all he says is, ‘...keeps it out of your face…’, (he only knows how to braid because of ran). 

❥ will walk by and toss a blanket on you if you don’t have one on already. it’s almost like he’s attacking you with blankets, but he just says that ‘you need to stay warm’. 

❥ when you finally get better, he’s so relieved! he will only admit it to you, (and he will only say it once) but he was actually really worried about you. he’s not ever worried about your safety when you’re with him and his brother because he knows that they can fight off anybody who tries to hurt you, but sickness isn’t something that he can fight, so he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself. all he could do was hope and pray that you would get better, and he absolutely hated it. 

❥ he takes you out to your favorite restaurant and spoils you rotten when you’re back to your normal self <3

[beaunoor]

higuruma hiromi x f!reader

synopsis: modern au! with both of you as lawyers. you're supposed to remain professional, but it doesn't stop the both of you from feeling a certain way when you both are in your element. sort of based on a previous imagine

wrd count: 1733

warnings: mdni! i don't really go into the actual court case bc i am lazy, female reader! light tension, smut (doing it on a desk, fingering, rough sex, tie pulling, semi-public, sort of breeding idk, praise), word "wife" used, yeah they get turned on in court in an odd way ig, barely any real plot

*extra editing will be done later, very tired while posting this

"Court is in session."

Your eyes watched as his black pant clad legs glide across the room to face the stand to give the plaintiff's opening statement. His gruff voice was tantalizing in a way you could see the confidence he oozed with his unwavering speech. This wasn't the time to ogle at your competition though. You had a job to do; to defend your own client who assumed you were preparing yourself to speak on their behalf as they shifted in anxiety. Which was wrong--you knew this was an easy civil contract case, and you just happened to be saddled with a defendant who was untruthful. Though you did not work on cases together often, discussion of them was a daily occurrence you partook in when in the privacy in your own home, so you knew the outcome was not in your favor. It didn't mean you wouldn't give it your all at least. Besides, anything was worth it to see Hiromi Higuruma in his own element.

You remembered him getting ready this morning and the image had you nibbling on your lip. You narrowed your eyes at the way his suit hugged his body. The way he spoke with assurance and the way he oozed confidence really did it for you; this was him at his best after all. You also remembered his tired eyes lingering on yours when you passed ways at the office, trying your best not to spare a glance--oh right. You were supposed to be mad at him. Your legs crossed and you looked down at the papers in front of you when you felt the faint wisps of arousal arise.

After his opening statement, you stood up from your chair, smoothing out your clothes before moving to the stand. While you talked and faced the judge and jury, Higuruma's chin rested atop of his folded hands. His eyes raked along your backside and further down to the pencil skirt you worn. He remembered taking glances at you earlier that morning. Though his morning was less than pleasant when you had not spoken a word to him. A small spat was what it was last night. It was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He wished he could hear your voice in different circumstances.

As you slowly paced across the floor, his eyes watched your words and gestures. When you were done with your statement, you had a fiery look in your eyes and the upturn of your lip when you caught his gaze on you, which to his embarrassment had his pants tightening.

When a short recess was taken, he had walked up to you in hopes of getting you to talk him in a different manner.

"And how are you doing today miss?"

You just glanced up at him and turned away, "It'll be better when I win, Mr. Higuruma."

He faintly grimaced. He knew he had to end this quickly before you caught a worse attitude with him.

Back and forth the battle went, each more passionate in their witness testimonies and evidence. But Higuruma always had an ace up his sleeve to help his clients, always.

"B-but that doesn't mean--" You put your fingers on your temple and suppressed a groan at the defendant's admittance.

"Your attorney should've prepared you better, Mr. Soto." Higuruma jabbed.

"And you now just admitted to being aware of such knowledge of a contract. So, to the jury," he turned to their stand, "I hope you can agree that ignorance does not determine a good defense for such a company circumstance. Mr. Soto has shown his account of unjust will to comply and I hope you can see how the plaintiff is needed to be compensated rightfully so." With that he concludes his closing statement.

He’s got you good.

The gavel against its block boomed loudly throughout the courtroom signaling the conclusion of the session. You can't help but purse your lips in disappointment.

While the bailiff was trying to calm down your client you packed your things up and caught Higuruma's eye as he walked back to the plaintiff's side as he gathered his things and shook hands with his client. You proceeded to grab your things and walk out of the courtroom, feeling his presence following behind you, making himself known as he opens the door for you and you both walk out side by side in silence. Once a certain amount of distance away, he lets his hand rest on your lower back guiding you away from peering eyes.

His embrace feels warm when he's got his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Are we okay now?" His question muffled.

"...Yeah, yeah we're good now." You say pulling away from him.

"Why do I always get the short end of the stick with my clients?" You huffed aloud as you both stood in the empty hallway of the office building.

"Maybe it's karma for getting angry at those who don't deserve it."

You stood in front of him, arms crossed and let out a scoff at his jest. 

“Well, I am available to help debrief in my office if you are free at the moment. I don't have another case until later.”

“Well I wouldn't want to intrude on the 'oh so great lawyer Mr. Higuruma's time” you replied.

"You know no one likes a sore loser" He leaned in close to your face, "though if you want a 'pick me up' I always have time for you, wife."

Your eyes looked into his eyes before flickering down to his lips, you tilted your head up at him, "What did you have in mind?"

As soon as his office door was closed, you turned around to see him drop his briefcase and reach for your face with both hands and fiercely kissed your lips. Your arms went up to his shoulders and chased his lips back. He walked forward and you clumsily stumbled backwards until your legs hit the front end of his desk causing you to half sit on the desk. You let go to take a breath, and half hazardly unbuttoned your dress shirt. He got his suit jacket halfway off before he felt you reach his belt loops and unbuckled his slacks. He stopped you to do it himself while you crumpled and lifted up your skirt to expose your panties to him. As soon as his boxers were lowered for his cock to spring out, you grabbed his tie to pull his lips to yours. His hand went down to slip past your underwear to insert a finger inside your pussy. When he felt how warm and wet you were he let out a groan into your mouth and inserted another finger to work you open.

“Oh baby, you’re so wet.” he groaned out against your lips.

“Haa- you were so hot out there,” you gasped out.

“Yeah? You like me arguing with you? This pussy sure loves it, can you hear it?”

He gave a few more pumps in with his fingers before pulling them out and using the same hand to jerk his dick before bringing it to your cunt and pushed in a little before pulling it back to rub it against your opening. He heard you whine at the sensation and finally pushed all the way in.

“Hah my wife is so inpatient.”

As his hips pushed into yours, his hands grabbed around your waist, wrapping your legs around his torso, back now flat against the desk.

“You did so good out there baby. Haa- you feel so good–” he moaned out, head falling back at the feeling of being inside you.

His thrusts begin slow and stroke deep. Your toes flexed inside your pointed heels at the feeling of being dicked down so good. One hand reached up to grab onto his shoulder and the other grabbed at your breast and groped in a way to make you moan out.

He looked down at you again, loving to see you enjoy yourself and let loose in your half undone shirt, “Oh baby, I'm so close–-feel so good--ah can’t believe you do this to me.”

He lifted up your left leg onto his shoulder to reach deeper which had you whining and your eyes teared up in the new sensation, he was hitting all the right spots.

“Hiroo- I’m going to-uhn-I’m going to cum baby” 

“Yeah you’re going to cum? Cum on this cock baby, you can do it baby I can feel it.” he encouraged by moving his hand down to play with your clit, rubbing it in circles to overwhelm you. 

You let out a shaky breath as you felt yourself orgasm, having it reach its peak had your legs flex and shake as it washed over you. A silent scream and the tightening of your cunt kept him going, him speeding up his thrusts to reach his end.

“Ah I’m going to cum–ahh I’m cumming in this pussy.” He groaned out, exhaling deeply as he felt his cock release into the deep crevice of your cunt. He gave a few more shallow thrusts, rubbing his hips against yours slowly before stilling his movements and letting your leg down. He held your thighs as both your breathing turned back to normal. He took one of your arms, hand sliding down to your hand before placing a kiss into your palm.

“Don’t worry baby, you'll win the next one. I can't loose, I want to look cool in front of my wife.”

You rolled your eyes at him and swat at him playfully.

"Hmm I thought that debrief surely helped your attitude, maybe not?"

You groaned and looked him in the eye to pout. He leaned down to kiss at your face and made his way down to nibble on your neck, before you giggled and pushed his face away.

"Mm Hiro stop, you have to get back to work soon." you reprimanded and he huffed through his nose before he pecked your lips one more time before pulling away from your body and tucked himself away.

After you separated and fixed yourselves you turned back to him to smooth out his suit and tie.

“Thank you for the pick me up." you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "See you at home, Mr. Higuruma. . .” you said and walked out of his office.

a/n: can't believe gege trying to take my man! it's superrr late but was inspired to get this out of the drafts, tumblr kept deleting the progress and it stressed me out so it may not be the best

likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated! thanks for reading!