#i was under the impression that i announced plenty of my thoughts

[fisheito]

What are you hopes and dreams for Yakumo? What kind of event theme would be your dream event? Any kinks or anything in particular you want to see in his rooms? Anything plot-wise you would like to see?

You know, I never thought about that

While playing , i suspend all my worldly desires. Then i take whatever I'm given like a good little F2P 🤣

Tho now that you bring it up🫨🤔..hmm...

Hopes n Dreams: a WIP , it seems . But for now...

- he needs to be in a dress. This is part of my agenda to have everyone put on the dress at LEAST once. No fakeouts like kuya's hakama pants. I want his legs sleeveless. Ready access. Destroy eiden while wearing a breezy skirt or smthh. Follow Blade's example , bc Blade is performing gender VERYwell.!!

Event???:

- yokai event with all three little beasties LOOKIN beastlier?? Yes???? Please??????????? I want them UNSETTLING and FERAL but with sharp beautifusful eyes.

in line with my desire for a snakular yakuhebi, i want him more monstrous. Covered in scales and the tail and the fangs with the dripdrop .which, yesyes probably never will happen but I'm gonna think about it anyway .

- I'm not creative when it comes to event ideas. The devs are way ahead of me on that. All i can think about is restaurant, but we've already had several forms of that. Barista yakumo..maid cafe...valentines parlour.... ahahahh I'm only ever thinking about eating...sorry... ...

- new jot note, new chance, becausr now i am DETERMINED to think of an event i wanna see. *scrunches brow* gmm..hmmm.......!!!! Does it count if i say some sorta winter event. One that requires yakumo to actually exist in cold weather. And he's wearing the giantest puffiest marshmallow of an 800layer coat because he's so very cold and will fall asleep in the snow if you leave him out there too long. Like, his silhouette is just a blob. There's nothing sexy about it. Covered head to toe in industrial arctic expedition protective gear 🤣🤣🤣 yakumo visits penguins. Wait what

-nononono JOT NOTE: TAKE 3! I *WILL* COME UP WITH AN EVENT! A CONCEPT! NOT JUST AN OUTFIT!. . . . . GOD but i just want an excuse to put him in the dorkiest/ most mundane outfits. He's just wearing farming clothes and helping his grandparents feed chickens. He's wearing a stupid little khaki uniform while catching bugs with a net like an amateur. Wait no he's the slutty glittery assistant in a leotard waiting to be cut in half by Magician Eiden where was i going with this i cant actually!!!--- move on to the next qursiyon

The ROOMS?:

- why has yakumo not hit it from the back yet. ? (Not counting FA R5..) Probably because doggystyle would deny him access to eiden's mouth, which is apparently a fate worse than cult sacrifice. Yakumo probably prefers to stare lovingly(🙄) at eiden's face while they're boinking so......

.

But *I* want them to throw it back. Just once. Eiden ass up face slightly-less-to-completely-inaccessible. Have garu as a guest instructor. I request this specific new angle just once kudapleas

- you mentioned kink and idk about elaborate kinks but '*slaps the roof of the car* TIE HIM UP. SUBJUGATE HIM. MAKE HIM WHINE AND CRY AND COME THE SECOND EIDEN TOUCHES HIS DICK. OR COME UNTOUCHED. THE POINT IS ,I WANT MORE OF THAT BULLYING FROM DARK NOVA R2

- it didn't occur to me to mention this bc i thought it was natural;assumed;common knowledge; but i shouldn't assume whatever i want is group consensus. So, explicitly stating that i am waiting for the snake hemipenes. I would love the non human look but it doesn't look like we'll get that. So I'll settle for 2 human dicks. Incredibly gracious of me iknow.

((Taking a break to thank all the fic authors who fulfill fantasies i know will never show up in game. The mind is a powerful tool but i still need kindling and these writers are made of dry sticks))

Um, ploT? Maybe?:

- the only thing I'd like for plot yakumo is to keep on showing his char development! He's changing ever so slowly!but steadily! Like how in his first interaction with rei, i was expecting him to get cowed by rei's blunt wording, but nope... he... understood what rei meant at base level and responded with a level of Spine and Emotional Awareness, instead of pure panic. Huh. Well whaddya know. Surprised me, fo sho. So I'd like to see him doing his best as time goes on ahhaha👈👉👈👉👈👉🤜

- i have NO idea where they arw going with the plot. Once again i must reiterate that i am like a child in front of a shiny screen re: consuming media. I have All belief. I am just going with it. There are no predictions or criticisms ongoing in my brain unless something is like... egregiously heteronormatively painful. So.

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Pay the Piper (Leitmotif 2)

mdni

Chapter summary: Your younger self proves herself to the Roger Pirates (and escapes the red-haired menace).

Master list <--- All chapters in order

Chapter warnings: blood/referenced injuries, referenced death, anxiety.

Unconventional Use of Haki: I'm playing with haki by introducing D&D flavored bardic talents. I'll explain further as the story grows, but I thought fair warning was needed. Always happy to answer queries in my inbox!

A/N: I alternate "verses" (main story arc chapters) with "leitmotifs" (critical flashback chapters with contextual adventures). It's a play on One Piece's own style and a way to keep things fresh.

I do not curate tag lists, but I do reply to comments when the next chapter goes live!

You caught yourself smiling.

Your father’s guitar, whole and undamaged if entirely out of tune, sat before you. Tracing worn patches of varnish where his arm rested, where his thumb wore down the finish along the back of the neck, you felt right. Whole. Purpose swelled in your little girl heart, growing it back into the right shape as you plucked, listened, tuned.

The men around you didn’t matter anymore.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d played for pirates, even if it was the first time performing on an actual pirate ship. Plenty of crews moved through the bars and taverns where your father worked, where you practiced and practiced and practiced until your voice and your playing flowed into his as easily as two shadows joining together.

You once imagined you sang for two in your mother’s absence. Your father insisted you had her voice. But after…

Well, now you sang alone – when you sang at all. It was like the part of her you’d carried for so long twined with your father when they were reunited, and their song was so heavy with love it sank to the bottom. Alone, you were entirely yourself. You had her voice and his songs, but they belonged to you, not you to them. It might be liberating if it wasn’t so lonely.

But you were brave, and you had your things back, and you would prove yourself to this dangerous crew.

Then you’d figure out how to escape.

You glanced up from your work and spied the red-headed boy smiling at you. He must’ve caught your lapse in focus. Tucking the corners of your frown firmly in place, you returned to what mattered.

Once the strings answered with the right notes, you adjusted your seat on the deck, propping the instrument at an angle over your knee as you thought of what to play. Pirates loved a shanty, something to sing along to, but you weren’t playing in a pub and angling for tips. They only returned the guitar so you could prove yourself. A shanty wouldn’t dazzle, enchant, stun.

Winning their respect – at least for your craft – meant breaking something. A heart. A mind. A fundamental understanding of who and what you were.

You needed to make an impression, and it needed to be twice as powerful since you’d lost any chance to impress them the first time round.

Without announcement or preamble, you began.

Pirates fell quiet in waves, the ring growing wider and wider with every note until only the wind, the sea, and the ship’s groans accompanied you.  

You swam through the music, giving yourself over to tides that obeyed your touch, surrendering to your greatest strength. The guitar sang, and a wordless story bloomed. The melody gave listeners space to feel, guiding them along different paths that all answered to the same thrill. It was lovelorn longing. A voyage through changeable seas. Rage, hope, and passion.

“Music is magic,” your father used to tell you, guiding your touch over his guitar’s frets. “You become a god, conjuring new worlds in your audience’s hearts and minds.”

Threads of harmony stretched between notes, and you gathered them, folding them into the melody, twisting everything into a single yarn, carefully measured. And cut –

.. just so.

The final refrain hung in the air, and as the strings trembled still under your fingertips, you felt the song lingering, saturating your corner of the world. It ran between the boards, seeping into the wood’s grain, and the sails’ weave trapped more than wind.

Reality settled back on your shoulders, pushing your soul back into your body. The pirates around you stirred, and you peeked up at the captain. His reaction mattered most.

A great smile curled behind his mustache, but you didn’t recognize the expression in his eyes. Too fierce to be entirely kind, but too proud to be displeased. It was like he’d split his face into two different feelings, or his mask had slipped to reveal more than he intended.

“I can see why you’re going to Dressrosa,” he said. His big, warm voice broke some spell on his crew, and a round of gruff affirmations echoed the captain’s sentiment. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, to get a little closer to your level. “And you’re going all by yourself? Someone waiting for you there?”

“I don’t need anyone else.” You snapped your attention to your guitar, beginning the post-performance maintenance rituals. The scabs on your hands had all torn open, and you folded a corner of your sleeve to delicately buff the blood off the wood. It wasn’t the first time practice left you bleeding, but it had been a long time, and the dawning sting made your nose burn. You refused to cry in front of pirates. “I’m brave enough by myself.”

“No doubt.” He leaned back, and his second leaned in to murmur something that had his captain nodding.

You had your hands full, though. Really, to get the guitar clean, you’d need a better cloth and some vinegar. Your shirt wasn’t enough to get the blood out of the strings.

Before you could work up the gumption to ask, a pair of hands caught yours and yanked them away from your task.

“You’re hurt!”

The red-head again.

You pulled, but he didn’t let go. His face was pure determination, bent brows and all, and he called for Crocus, the doctor, who stomped over with purely medicinal frustration. He seized your hands from the boy, twisting them back and forth to see the damage, grumbling all the while.

“No more playing that thing until these heal over,” he ordered. Sensing your rising defiance, he added, “If you don’t take time to heal, you could lose sensitivity, and that will impact your playing. Do you want that?”

Mournfully, you shook your head, and – still holding your wrists – Crocus pulled you to your feet and marched towards the lower decks.

“Time to rebandage these.”

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

“Are you asleep?”

You grit your teeth and held your breath. Deep in the belly of the ship, it’s endless creaking had almost lulled you to rest, but the voice jarred you back, and you felt every bruise and cut wake with you.

You’d been sentenced to sleep with the apprentices, the captain pointing out that they’d found you, and now that the doctor – Crocus – had released you from the infirmary, you were the two boys’ responsibility. The boys shared a narrow bunk room, and Gaban brought a spare mattress that smelled more like salt and tobacco than straw or feathers. You’d arranged it on the floor, plopped down, and immediately closed your eyes.

After about an hour of bickering, the boy with the blue hair and red nose fell asleep.

Unfortunately, the red-head did not.

Fake snoring always sounded fake, and sleeping people didn’t answer questions, so going still and silent was your best bet. With luck, the boy would get bored and try falling asleep himself.

He was on the lower bunk, and closer than you liked. You heard him shift, and eyes stabbed into the back of your head.

“You’re a bad faker.”

Rolling over, you met his grin with a scowl. “What do you want?”

“We never introduced ourselves.” He held out his hand. “I’m -”

“A pirate. A stranger. I’m going to get off this ship and never see any of you ever again, so we don’t need to know each other’s names.”

He shrugged, pulling his hand back just to prop himself up on his elbows.

“Why are you so set on that fancy music school?”

He wouldn’t shut-up until he asked his questions, and you resigned yourself to some kind of conversation. Sitting up, you pulled the blanket around your shoulders and raised your chin. You weren’t sure what you were defying exactly, but you wouldn’t be coaxed into any kind of cooperation, especially now that you had your things back. Your mother’s necklace hung secure around your neck, and your father’s guitar sat between you and the wall, within reach.

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“I’m just curious.” He sounded genuine, and as he rested his chin on his fists, looking like any other kid you’d met on any other ship, your determination wavered. “I mean, you have the whole world, but you want to go there. Even now, with your hands bleeding and your arm hurt, and, and –” Little gestures ate up the space between words. “It must be something special.”

Warm lantern light seeped through the rough curtain, spilled under the hum. It caught in his hair and warmed his eyes. He glowed, a beacon in the dark, and you wondered if that made him a lighthouse or a trickster spirit luring you into trouble.

You chewed your lip. Everything felt heavy. And you’d never gone so long without really talking to someone before. The things you wanted to say and feel got bottled up until the pressure hurt your head.

The red-head wasn’t a grown-up, even if he was a pirate. His meanness must be smaller, just to fit inside. Or maybe pirates’ hearts didn’t go stale and sour until they got bigger.

If you said just a little, talked to a real person like he was just a person, maybe you’d feel a tiny bit better.

You scooted to the edge of his bunk, and he leaned in until your foreheads nearly touched.

“My dad always said we’d go,” you whispered. “He said we’d need to go somewhere new after he found mom again. And he said only the best teachers in the world could keep up with me, so we’d go there.”

The memory brought you no comfort. It used to make you so excited. Now, it was the only direction you had left to go, and this wasn’t how you were supposed to get there at all. The seed of a dream had a broken shell, and it threatened to cut you when you handled it.

“Find your mom?”

Oh.

The warmth you’d been reaching for vanished. It didn’t fade. It just blinked out. A snuffed candle.

He didn’t mean to be a bully, you could tell, but the promise of that word – mom – pierced deep. It was a memory now, and not a future. The story hadn’t finished the right way, and everything was upside-down and awful. No doctor could fix the break left by the end of your whole world.

Your eyes overflowed. Then your nose.

You wriggled back, flopped down facing the wall, and pulled the blanket to cover your head. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

The quiver in your voice didn’t sound very brave at all.

But, at last, the room went quiet.

---------

When you finally fell asleep, you sank deep. If your nightmares woke you, you didn’t remember, but you tasted the gunpowder on the wind as you watched the ship carrying your parents sank.

A big, gentle hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake gradually drew you back to the surface, and you struggled to unspool memory from dreams that clung to reality like cobwebs. Blinking, dazed, you tried to recall when you’d come aboard a ship, what day or time it was, and why your father had left his guitar…

You rubbed your eyes, yawning.

“Wake up now. We’re putting you ashore.”

Silvers Rayleigh, the Dark King, crouched beside you, and the past few days hit you like canon ball. Physically jerking away, you slipped out from under his hand, but your back was to the wall, and he took up a lot of space.

He chuckled.

“Good morning to you, too, troublemaker.” Settling down to sit cross-legged in the narrow bunk room, he dropped a rucksack in your lap. “The crew who kidnapped you didn’t keep any of their victim’s personal items, I’m afraid, but this should get you started.”

Tugging it open, you peered inside like a snake would jump out and bite you. But nothing terrible happened, and the pirate let you investigate in peace, watching you steadily, waiting for something.

A shirt and trousers – doubtless stolen from one of the boys judging from their size – sat at the bottom, cushioning a water flask and a wax paper bundle you assumed held food. A drawstring pouch sat innocuously in the middle, and you reached for it with dread.

Your eyes popped wide at the Berries inside.

You immediately pushed everything back at Rayleigh. “I can’t take this.”

“Why not?” he asked like he already knew, like he’d planned for this conversation.

“Because it’s pirate loot,” you said, “and I’m not a pirate. And pirates don’t just give money away.”

“Technically it’s your share of the treasure you helped find,” he said, pushing on as your face went stony. “But you can think of it as your performance fee.”

Your eyes dipped to the bag. Fees and tips made sense. You knew how much your father made, how he balanced the potential for tips against the (usually low) guaranteed pay from a tavern keeper. He taught you sums with the change you collected during shows.

He’d never made so much, not even in a month. Maybe not a whole year.

“This is too much.”

A smirk that wanted to be a smile quirked over the pirate’s face. “For your talents? Not at all. Know your worth, kid.”

Your lower lip slipped between your teeth, and you chewed relentlessly as you considered. Turning away money was stupid – unless there was an unspoken cost or secondary service required. If you asked, he could lie.

And you needed the Berries. Your kidnappers really had thrown out anything they couldn’t sell, and they’d taken all the coin your father left. Without this payment, you may never even reach Dressrosa, let alone find a place to stay and eat while you looked for work…

You pulled back the rucksack. It fit nicely in your arms.

“Good. Glad we can agree on that. Now, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you before you leave.”

Oh no. There were strings attached.

He pointed at you, right between your eyes, like he could see inside your head.

“You have haki. Rare haki. There’s no time to teach you, but look it up when you’re older.” He looked entirely serious, and you sensed this was one of those adult talks you were supposed to obey even if you didn’t understand. “Try to keep a reign on your emotions. Don’t try intimidating people until you have some control, or someone will find a reason to control you. Got it?”

A warning. Not about pirates or marines or anyone specific. Just people. And you already knew people could be cruel, no matter what they called themselves. You wouldn’t be used again. You refused to be controlled.

So, you listened.

“I’ve got it.”

He let the smile have its way with his face and ruffled your sleep-mussed hair. As you swatted his hand away, he said, “You’re going to be a terror when you grow up. Hope to see your name in the papers some day.”

“I haven’t told you my name.”

“That’s why I look forward to reading it.” He slapped his knees and stood up. “Grab your things. We’re sending a tender to shore. It’s a pretty safe little island with lots of shipping traffic, so I’m sure you’ll get where you’re headed. Time to head out.”

You followed him on deck, finger-coming your hair as you went. A few crew members waited by the rail, where a rope ladder hung down to a small boat. Gaban sat at the oars.

“Why can’t we go?” Of course, the red-head was there, and he was whining to his captain, wheedling for more opportunities to make himself a menace. “It’s just to shore and back, right?”

“The fewer pirates she’s seen with the better,” Roger said, patting the boy’s head.

It looked too familiar, and you side-eyed Rayleigh, daring him to change his mind and try to keep you aboard with their other little pets. He caught you. Scoffed, amused.

You must look even smaller than usual with the guitar case on your back. It was nearly as big as you were, and if any of the pirates changed their minds at this crucial moment, there was nothing you could do to stop them. Well. Maybe you could swim to shore…

The doctor flicked your forehead, claiming your attention. “Let yourself heal. Have a little patience. Hear me?”

A nod was enough of an answer for him, and he stepped back, clearing the way. You didn’t wait for further permission and booked it to the ladder.

“Safe travels!” Roger laughed behind you.

In another moment, you were in the boat, and your escort pushed off. The boat rocked with the waves rolling into the shallows, and you held tight, squinting at the land, wondering how far you’d need to walk to the nearest town.

“Hey!”

You snapped around to the boat. The red-head shouted from the rail, the only one still watching your escape.

“We’ll see each other again someday, okay?”

Not if you had anything to say about it. Rising to your knees to make sure he could see, you leaned out as far as you could and stuck out your tongue.

“Idiot!”

His smile didn’t dim a bit. “Look forward to catching up with you!”

Still waving, he laughed, leaving you with a prickling sense of connection you couldn’t shake as the boat drew further and further away, until he was just a red speck you left behind.

[paperdice]

HIIIII TYSM 4 MAKING MY REQUEST 😭😭 I LOVED IT SM!!!!1!1!! SOOO I was reading like always (? And I’ve seen that Snakefruit actually has like 5 fics and the most recent one is like from 2022?? SOSOSO I thought, could you make a Snakefruit x Dragon reader?? I think that’s an interesting dynamic bcz yk.. he wants to be a dragon.. and ykyk (´⊙ω⊙`)

𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬)

"I would paint the skies with the colors of your dreams and dance under the moonlight until dawn, all for you."

Getting the attention of this wannabe dragon wasn't difficult, they had been eyeing you since before your first encounter. You are a noble and fierce dragon with an impressive reputation, after all. They envied your status, your strength, and your dragonhood.

Isn't it ironic that they fell for a dragon? Although it's not entirely surprising. Snakefruit believes that a dragon should be with another Dragon and that the two of you were meant to be together, despite the mistake of them being a snake. They promise that they will soon change and become the strong dragon that you deserve.

➻❥ Since before your relationship and during, it has always been apparent that Snakefruit would always marvel at you no matter what. They treasure their relationship with you absolutely, but there's no doubt that Snakefruit would throw in a few sly compliments that have you rethinking the choices you made.

➻❥ Snakefruit may seem deceitful with their questionable comments, but it's just their way of complimenting you by sounding a little too envious. They have a deceptive way of doing things, but they would never betray you. In their eyes, you've won the war, you've stolen Snakefruits heart and there's no way of getting it back.

➻❥ They know their heart is in good hands, they've spent plenty of time getting to trust you to know that. Maybe that's how you stole their heart. They lean on you with pure admiration, revealing a more loving side beyond their poker face.

➻❥ From their highest love languages to the lowest, the list goes.

Quality time: Having spent all their time helping others reach their goals, nothing compares to just sitting and savoring a moment with you. They're always asking for alone time, whether it's a brief encounter or a sneaky request, and you know they truly desire it.

Physical touch: They were never the touchy type, not before meeting you of course. You're a Dragon with stunning scales that are meant to be cherished. They would lightly caress your Dragon features, hold your hand, softly rub their cheek on you, and snuggle you behind closed doors.

Words of affirmation: You'd think it'd have a higher place but honestly, as much as Snakefruit tries to sound sweet it can sometimes sound alarming. However, that doesn't stop them from trying to get their words through your heart. At times, their words are exactly what you need to hear in the moment.

Gift giving: Another thing you'd think would be higher, they do try and gift you things but it's not their best of work. Yes, they'll find treasures and gather trinkets for you to own, but they only do this if the gift reminds them of you. Searching for a gift isn't out of the equation though the deja vu they get from looking for offerings for Longan Dragon Cookie can get a bit, irritating.

Acts of service: Similar to gift-giving, all Snakefruit has done is serve and serve many times, which is tiring and dehumanizing. After this repeated cycle, I don't think they'd be too willing to do everything for you. They wouldn't mind it at times, but to them, it just doesn't feel like their way of showing you their love.

➻❥ Due to Snakefruit being, well, a snake— this factor has a more dominating effect on their physical appearance. Half cookie doesn't stop how this half-snake is cold-blooded, so Snakefruit is drawn to your warmth.

➻❥ They don't ever announce when they're about to rub and side-nuzzle your body, they just do it. With the cheekiest smile on their face and a sigh of ease, however, they don't stay for long. It's a small tease they like to do; come about, feel your touch, and drift away when you just got comfortable.

➻❥ Though don't pull the same stunt on them, they don't like the taste of their own medicine. The expression of displeasure won't be too harshly painted on their face, but you know they don't like it based on their unnecessary pettiness in the following future. It just lasts a day don't worry.

➻❥ A funny yet sometimes annoying bit they do is when they purposefully drag their S's right when they're buttering you up for a surprise. Something like,,

"Then sshe ssaid.." "..uh huh." "Sssssss" "yes?" "Ssssssssss—" "What did she say?!"

➻❥ Snakefruit always looks out for your Dragon features, as if you were some sculpture to constantly polish. Scales looking a bit loose? Well according to Snakefruits memory, you don't shed till way later. Are you not treating yourself properly?? That won't do, cause now Snakefruit's on your case.

➻❥ Questions about being a Dragon do reach about from time to time, they're curious about what it's like for you to be born with immense power and purpose. They wanna know your every opinion on the rocks they're willing to climb to achieve their goal of being a Dragon, do you think it's possible?

➻❥ Every kiss is precious, whether it's a gentle peck or a vibrant, breath-stealing one. Each time they kiss, they always model a smile on their face, you can always feel more of their smile against your lips whenever they lean in for more. They're so greedy.

➻❥ Snakefruit would enjoy eskimo kisses, it's a kiss where lovers gently rub their noses together, a wholesome gesture Snakefruit does with meaning behind it. These kisses are rarer than the quick peck ones or the sharp intimate ones. Only when they're adoring you behind closed doors, tenderly caressing your features, they can't help but touch your adorable face.

➻❥ Snakefruit doesn't get salty with you being a Dragon, no not at all, if anything you being one encourages them to reach their dream. You deserve the finest passionate love, a Dragons love, they will not wait any longer to become what you are worthy of.

What a fun request to write, I'm glad to know you enjoyed your last ask, and even more so that you came back to request another! I hope you like this one as much as the prior one, don't feel shy to throw in a third request, you're always welcome <333!!

[2baddiesfanfics]

Try This on for Size

Pairing: Topaz x Jade

Tags: Dressing Room Sex, Lingerie, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Vaginal Fingering

Summary:

Jade and Topaz celebrate a big win with some drinks, as well as a trip to Penacony's Dreamjoy Fashion Store. Who's the one being rewarded here?

Read on Ao3

“Jelena, dear, I think you’ve had plenty,” Jade gently chastised as she eased the half-empty glass of Lost Twilight from her subordinate’s grip. Sitting at the bar in the lobby of The Reverie Hotel was starting to get old.

“Awww, c’mon! Hic! I’m barely gettin’ shtarted!” Topaz slurred. “I thought we were celebratin’ that amazing deal I just won!”

Her boss shook her head lovingly. She wasn’t wrong. It was an incredible feat for one as young as Topaz to have negotiated with one of the most powerful players in the galaxy and come out on top. She definitely deserved to let loose tonight, but at this rate, she was bound to spend most of the evening kneeling before the toilet.

“Yes, yes, by all means, you were immensely impressive tonight, little one. But what would you say to taking a little stroll to sober up a bit, hmm? I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” she said before knocking back what remained of her coworker’s beverage.

The leader of the Special Debts Picket Team may have been drunk, but she wasn’t so inebriated that she couldn’t read between the lines. Leaving a stack of credits on the bar, she hopped out of her seat.

“Lead the way, Lady Bonajade!” Topaz announced with an exaggerated bow that nearly made her topple over. Thankfully the older woman was there to grab her by the waist and steady her. 

“Careful now, big shot - we wouldn’t want you to damage those skillful hands of yours.”

——————

After entering the Golden Hour of Penacony's Dreamscape, the two women trekked through the bustling city. Jade was on a mission, and she knew exactly where they were headed. 

Cocona welcomed them into Dreamjoy Fashion Store, giving the usual “let me know if you need help finding anything” retail worker speech. When she had walked out of earshot, Topaz spoke up.

“Sooooo…care to tell me why we’re here? Not exactly the kind of celebration I was hoping for,” she remarked as she fondled the price tag of an expensive-looking blazer and then blanched at the price. 

She was thankful she still had a nice buzz going from her earlier escapade or else she’d have been bored out of her mind. Of the two of them, her boss had always been more of the fashionista. Topaz had to admit - it was also to her benefit. One of the perks of being the plaything of the hottest woman in the IPC (if not the entire galaxy) was that she often got to select Jade’s outfits specifically to her liking.

The other woman clicked her tongue as she sauntered over to the next section. “Patience, little Jelena. Do I ever not make good on my promises?” Her subordinate felt a surge of adrenaline when she realized where they were headed. Bra and panty sets lined the walls and racks, tantalizing her with mental images of what her lover would look like in each.

Jade skimmed the hangers with her long, elegant fingers, searching for the pair that would accomplish her goal. Finally, she settled on one, grabbed it, and walked toward the dressing rooms. Taking the hint, Topaz followed, thankful the workers seemed to be occupied by other customers.

Picking a stall toward the back, her manager stopped before entering. “Now, be a good girl and wait out here while I try this on.”

Topaz frowned, feeling like she’d been duped. “But…”

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t fight me on this, little Jelena. What good is a present if you already know what’s under the wrapping paper, hmm?” She said with a wink.

Still pouting, she sighed. “Okay, okay. This better be worth it.”

“Have I ever not been? I’ll knock lightly on the door when I’m ready for you.” 

———————-

A few minutes passed before the other woman heard the signal. Taking a glance around, Topaz quietly opened the door to the stall. 

“Either I’m really fucked up from those drinks earlier or you’re wearing the exact same outfit,” Topaz said flatly.

“My, you really weren’t paying attention, were you?” Jade chuckled. “What did I say about unwrapping gifts?”

Her subordinate’s face suddenly grew hot. “Wait…here? Now? I thought you meant you were going to buy it and bring it home!” She hissed.

“Oh, come now. Don’t tell me all that liquid courage has worn off. What’s the fun without a little danger?” Jade fingered the top button of her blouse gingerly, Topaz’s eyes following her movements as she toyed with it. She took a deep breath, and her gaze turned dark.

“Let me help you with that.” The younger woman pushed her against the wall roughly, her mouth seeking to devour. Her boss moaned into her, her hands pulling her hips flush with her own. Topaz worked ferociously to reveal what lay beneath Jade’s top.

When she finally reached the end of the line of buttons, she spun the other woman around to look at herself in the dressing room’s mirror. Shrugging the blouse off her shoulders, it dropped to the floor.

“Did I make good on my promise?” Jade murmured seductively. Topaz moved her boss’ hair to the side as her lips trailed to her neck.

“That depends. I’ll have to see what’s under these,” she retorted as she slid the other woman’s skirt down her body. The lingerie set barely covered her most private areas, the delicate black lace accenting the beauty of her flawless porcelain skin.

Topaz looked at Jade’s reflection as her hands moved to cup her breasts. She firmly squeezed, watching the way they swelled against her palms. Her boss let out a soft moan at the feeling, her head tilting further to the side to give her lover better access. 

The sharp pierce of her subordinate’s teeth in her shoulder made her gasp. “Ahhh…I take it you’re satisfied, then?”

Topaz felt like her body was on fire. Her head was still fizzing from her earlier escapades, driving her to take control. Gripping the other woman’s chin, she replied, “Oh, I won’t be satisfied until I make you watch yourself come.”

Jade couldn’t help but laugh at the words coming out of her cute little subordinate’s mouth. “Now, now. Don’t let winning one big deal get to your head, Jelena…”

“Don’t you remember, Lady Bonajade? You were the one who taught me the first principle of negotiating a deal is to keep pressing after a victory,” Topaz taunted before shoving her hand in the other woman’s panties. She was already slick with desire, and the leader of the Special Debts Picket Team felt the thrill of power she so rarely experienced with her mentor. 

Dipping her digits further into her, she coated herself with her arousal. Circling her clit with the tip of her index finger, she used her other hand to pull down one of her bra cups. Her nipple was already taught, desperately seeking stimulation.

“Jelena…” Jade whimpered.

“You made me wait…”

“Please…”

“Beg me for it.”

The other woman’s hips rocked against Topaz’s hand as she chased her release. “Aeons, darling…have mercy…I was only building anticipation…”

“You’re lucky I’m not as sadistic as you,” she replied as she worked the sensitive bud faster. Jade panted and whined before her subordinate covered her mouth to avoid being caught. She licked the shell of her ear before muttering, “Come for me, baby.”

Jade let out a muffled groan as she jolted against the younger woman’s body. Topaz smirked smugly, relishing the chance to make her come undone for once. She kissed her boss’ shoulder now marred by her earlier bite before picking up her clothing and helping her get dressed.

“Goodness, Jelena. It’s amazing that a single successful business deal and a little alcohol can turn you into such a beast.”

“What can I say? You bring out the winner in me.”

[yunogf]

lmao i asked bc, as you said in your tags, there was a certain way that it comes across as with how you’re talking about it, so i genuinely wondered bc i was gonna listen to it as well. i’ve been reading plenty of comments about it as well that mostly just lean on “aoty” “soty” “best album ever” and i get that these are (hopefully) exaggerated claims by stans, but i was seriously yet to see a decent comment about its musicality. it’s either about his face in the mv or his voice or the aesthetic of the mv. nothing on the lyricism or the instrumentations or its creativity or depth, so i was hesitant. i get liking it, but i doubt its being “the best”, so when i saw that your comments were the same, i began to wonder if this is another case of exaggerated praises and it’s just... meh at best. nothing new and all that. i am still gonna listen to it on my own ofc but, i guess, since i’m not really his fan, i’m not all excited. amazing debuts usually create tractions of their own, and i don’t hear much for this, but i ain’t judging based on that ofc. anyway, no need to feel attacked. as i said, i was genuinely curious so i asked. i’m well aware that i have ears. i was just genuinely curious about what you actually thought about it, what with your unhinged tags and whatnot. that’s all.

hard to gain traction when ur company announces ur album 2 weeks before it drops!

i was thrown by your wording and i still kind of am but i don't listen to music i don't enjoy and that's across the board for any artist bc....why would i do that lol and maybe ur not in the right circle being a casual fan/non-fan bc I've seen most ppl talk abt the musicality along with everything else 🤔

ik u said u were genuinely asking and i appreciate the explanation but im picking up on an overall unimpressed tone ("hopefully exaggerated" "doubt it being the best" ?) and it feels like u've made up ur mind about jaehyun and his music and ur asking me to give u a reason to change ur mind/care/be impressed but that's not my job ur free to make ur own opinion to me it seems ur going in with a half formed one already but it's music so like it or leave it either way is okay! ur under no obligation!

I'm sorry if being a kpop stan (im assuming...?) has made u feel disillusioned by solo releases tho i understand bc ppl are often overhyped by fans but jaehyun is a music enjoyer who did his homework and worked with artists he himself is a fan of and the payoff is really good music

overall ur ask is very uninformed which if ur not a fan is understandable but as a native english speaker myself listening to an album that is almost entirely in english from a nonnative speaker i have to say the lyrics are very well done they make sense create good metaphor and aren't superficially about balling or making a lot of money (i loathe to hear this often in eng versions of kpop songs lol) and jaehyun is credited as a lyricist on almost every song afaik

the production value is solid "can't get you" has an entire band accompaniment (the trumpet >>>>>) he wrote/worked on "flamin hot lemon" with emotional oranges (one of my fave artists actually <3) so that one is Excellent in every regard esp for a song inspired by cheetos lmao I've said numerous times that none of the songs sound like they were created with the intent of 30 secs going viral on tiktok (a very important differentiation for me) and one of my favorites parts about the title track "smoke" is the outro it's soooo good there's an unexpected bit of piano that he adlibs along with >>>> and the ballad "completely" has a Gorgeous piano backing to it (the lyrics on this one are also so beautiful)

my excitement about the release may have overwhelmed me so i might not have broken down each song beat by beat but rest assured i'm not wasting time on music i don't enjoy

in summation the album is good and on a separate unrelated note he just happens to be really hot ❤️

[aghost-writer]

Enough

Chapter 27

This is a Yandere MHA/BNHA x Female Reader Fic!

MDNI!!

The Sports Festival had officially begun, and as the crowd cheered in anticipation, Y/N stood at the commentator stand, her eyes glued to the action unfolding before her. Though she wasn’t participating, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement in the air, the energy from the students and the audience making everything feel alive. The thrill of competition, the fierce spirit of her classmates—Y/N had always been drawn to the passion of such events.

As the students lined up for the Obstacle Race, her eyes immediately found Shinso, standing among the competitors. His messy purple hair stood out amongst the others, and when she saw him, a smile quickly spread across her face. 

“Ah, Shinso!” she muttered under her breath, her tone light. She was more than a little pleased to see him, and her face lit up with recognition. She hadn’t expected to find him in the race, but there he was, looking every bit as serious as ever. 

Aizawa, who was sitting next to her in the stand, noticed her reaction immediately. His eyes narrowed, and Y/N could feel his gaze shifting toward her, his expression unreadable. “What is it?” he asked, his voice flat.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her smile still lingering. “Shinso. He’s a classmate. He’s quite cute, don’t you think?” She said it lightly, not really thinking about the implications of her words, but when she glanced at Aizawa, his frown deepened just the slightest bit.

“Cute?” He echoed the word as if it didn’t sit well with him. Y/N could tell he was irked, though he didn’t voice it aloud. She didn’t care much. She had known Shinso for a while, and she was genuinely glad to see him here. That was all there was to it.

Y/N refocused on the race, her attention drifting back to the other students as they prepared for the first event. Midnight’s voice rang out over the loudspeaker, announcing the start of the Sports Festival’s first event: the Obstacle Race.

“The first event of the Sports Festival will be the Obstacle Race!” Midnight’s voice echoed across the field, amplifying the excitement already buzzing through the air. “It’s a nearly 4 km race around the stadium, with plenty of surprises along the way!”

Y/N smiled softly, watching the competitors line up, all ready to give their best. She could see the determination in the eyes of her classmates as they stood ready to sprint across the starting line. Her thoughts drifted to Izuku. She couldn’t help but wonder how he would perform in this race—especially after everything that had happened at the USJ incident. He had grown so much, but there were still moments when his self-doubt could hold him back. This would be a good test of his resolve.

As Midnight waved her hand to signal the beginning, the students burst forward, their excitement palpable. Among them, Shoto Todoroki made his move first, his Quirk immediately turning the ground beneath him to ice. A few students slipped and fell, struggling to keep their footing, but Shoto skated effortlessly across the icy surface, swiftly putting distance between himself and the rest of the competitors. Y/N raised an eyebrow at his tactic. It wasn’t surprising, but it was still an impressive display of control over his Quirk. 

“I expected you all to avoid my ice,” Shoto commented, his voice cool as he glanced over his shoulder at the students who were trying to get a grip on the frozen ground. Y/N noticed that several of the Class 1-A students had already managed to avoid Shoto’s ice, but there were still plenty who were struggling.

Minoru, ever the opportunist, tried to use his Quirk to attack Shoto, but his attempt was quickly thwarted. A Villain Robot appeared out of nowhere, knocking Minoru out of the way. The first obstacle of the race had been revealed: Villain Robots from the Entrance Exam were blocking the way, just as they had done before. 

Shoto, however, didn’t seem fazed. He quickly froze the robots in his path, causing them to collapse, blocking the way for the other students. With the obstacles removed, he forged ahead, gaining a substantial lead as the others scrambled to catch up.

Y/N watched as the race progressed, taking mental notes of her classmates’ performances. Her eyes lingered on Izuku, who had been struggling to keep up but was pushing forward with determination. Despite his hesitation, Y/N could see that his resolve had strengthened. He didn’t look as fearful as he had in the past—he was thinking on his feet.

Izuku, unable to use his Quirk just yet, found himself facing a 1-Point Villain Robot. Without hesitation, he picked up a piece of metal, using it as a makeshift weapon and shield. Y/N’s gaze softened as she watched him dodge the robot’s attacks with precision. She’d seen him hesitate before, but now there was something different about him—an air of quiet confidence. He was no longer the boy who had shied away from danger. This Izuku, the one who used his intellect and courage, was a force to be reckoned with.

The Obstacle Race continued, with the second stage fast approaching: The Fall, a canyon that the students had to cross using ropes. Shoto, still in the lead, had already finished crossing it and was heading for the final obstacle: the Land Mine Field. 

Katsuki, never one to let someone else get ahead, began to catch up, using his explosive Quirk to propel himself forward. The tension between him and Shoto was palpable as the two started to vie for the top spot. Y/N noticed the fiery look in Katsuki’s eyes, his competitive spirit blazing as brightly as ever.

As the other students began crossing The Fall, Y/N’s attention was drawn back to Izuku. He was nearly done crossing, his face a picture of concentration. She couldn’t help but feel a little nervous for him. She had seen his potential before, but this race was different. This was the moment where he had to push past his limits, and she wasn’t sure if he was ready. 

When the Land Mine Field finally appeared before them, Shoto’s lead began to diminish. He had to be more careful, taking each step with caution. Katsuki, on the other hand, wasn’t so concerned. He blasted himself across the field, using explosions to navigate the treacherous terrain with ease. His headstrong attitude paid off, and he surged ahead of Shoto, gaining the lead.

Y/N’s heart began to race as the final stage neared. Izuku, who had fallen behind, was now thinking of a way to close the gap. She could see it in his eyes—the familiar spark of determination. He wasn’t going to let this race slip through his fingers. 

And then, in a moment of brilliance, Izuku came up with a plan. He placed the metal shield beneath him and detonated a landmine. The explosion sent him flying forward, propelling him into the lead. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, impressed by his ingenuity. It was a bold move, but it worked. 

Katsuki and Shoto quickly noticed Izuku’s maneuver, and they both sprinted toward him, desperate to catch up. But Izuku wasn’t finished yet. He used his shield to trigger another landmine, creating a cloud of dust that momentarily blinded his competitors. It was enough to gain him the final edge. 

With one final burst of energy, Izuku crossed the finish line, his face alight with joy and relief. Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, a smile spreading across her face as she watched her friend claim first place. 

Shoto, though clearly frustrated, crossed the finish line in second place, followed closely by Katsuki in third. The rest of the students soon followed, but for Y/N, it was Izuku’s victory that mattered most. 

She couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for him. It had been a tough race, and he had pushed himself to the limit, but in the end, he had come out on top. 

For a moment, everything felt right. For all the chaos, for all the uncertainty, there was one thing Y/N was sure of: her classmates had the potential to do great things.

Y/N’s hand twitched as she watched the students filter out from the finish line, her gaze lingering momentarily on the cheering crowd before her thoughts drifted. The thrill of watching the race had faded, and an all-too-familiar boredom crept in. She needed something to occupy her mind. Without saying a word, she stood up and walked over to her backpack, her movements deliberate.

Aizawa, still sitting stiffly with his bandages, shifted his eyes toward her. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice gruff but soft enough not to draw attention.

“Keeping myself busy,” Y/N said simply as she rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a pen and a notepad, clicking the pen as she returned to her seat.

Sliding back between Aizawa and Yamada, Y/N began jotting down her observations of the race. Her pen moved swiftly over the paper, her notes sharp and to the point. Todoroki: strategic but cautious. Over-relies on his Quirk. Bakugo: impulsive but efficient. Needs to refine control in chaotic situations. Midoriya: innovative under pressure. Still hesitant at times but adapts well.

Yamada peeked over her shoulder, tilting his head. “What are you writing there, Y/N?”

“Just observations,” she replied without looking up. “Keeps me from falling asleep.”

“Ah, I see,” Yamada said with a laugh. “Taking mental notes for a future career as a coach, maybe?”

Y/N smirked faintly but didn’t respond. Aizawa, meanwhile, gave her a sidelong glance. Though he didn’t say it, he appreciated her effort to engage with the festival in her own way—even if her focus wasn’t entirely on cheering like the rest of the spectators.

The hum of the stadium seemed to blur into white noise as Y/N continued scribbling, but her focus was interrupted when the door to the commentator’s stand clicked open. She looked up, blinking in mild surprise, and there stood Hawks, grinning lazily as though he owned the room.

Aizawa let out a heavy sigh, and Yamada groaned audibly. “Oh great,” Yamada muttered under his breath.

“Yo,” Hawks greeted, strolling in with his usual swagger. He held an envelope in his hand, waving it casually as he approached. His golden eyes immediately found Y/N. “Miss Quirkless,” he said with a teasing smirk, causing her to roll her eyes.

“That’s not my name, Keigo,” Y/N replied dryly, though there was a faint amusement in her tone.

Hawks chuckled, stopping in front of her and holding out the envelope. “Well, whatever you say, Miss Quirkless.Anyway, I thought I’d drop this off for you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking the envelope from his hand and inspecting it. “What is it?”

“Your business internship,” Hawks replied, his tone casual. “Looks like I got you approved for something decent. Figured you’d want to know.”

Y/N’s gaze softened slightly, and she nodded. “Thanks, Keigo. I appreciate it.” She placed the envelope on the desk beside her notes, then looked back up at him. “I’ll need to talk to Principal Nezu about it first.”

Hawks shrugged, his expression unbothered. “Of course you do. Always the responsible one, huh?”

Before she could respond, Hawks leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, a gesture so natural and familiar that it left Aizawa and Yamada visibly bristling.

“Keigo,” Y/N said, her tone carrying a hint of warning as she glanced at the two teachers beside her.

“What?” Hawks asked, feigning innocence. He straightened up and grinned, placing his hands on his hips. “Anyway, I was thinking—why don’t you ditch this snoozefest and come hang out with me tonight? You know, let me show you a good time.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You mean skip the Sports Festival?”

“Exactly!” Hawks said, his voice light and persuasive. “Come on, you don’t even want to be here, do you? Let me save you from the boredom.”

Y/N shook her head, her tone firm. “No thanks. I’m staying.”

“Boring,” Hawks teased, though his smile didn’t falter. “You’re way too dedicated for your own good.”

“It’s called responsibility,” Y/N shot back, crossing her arms.

“Responsibility, huh?” Hawks mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “You’re starting to sound like Eraser over there.” He glanced at Aizawa, whose expression had darkened considerably.

“Don’t drag me into this,” Aizawa said, his tone flat but edged with irritation.

“Relax, Eraser,” Hawks replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just making conversation.”

Yamada, however, was less amused. “Do you always have to be so... familiar with her?” he asked, his tone laced with thinly veiled annoyance.

“What can I say?” Hawks replied with a grin. “We go way back.”

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Keigo, stop antagonizing them. You’re not helping.”

“Fine, fine,” Hawks said, raising his hands again as if to surrender. He took a step back, his wings fluttering slightly. “I’ll leave you to your oh-so-thrilling commentary duties. But seriously, Y/N, think about it. You and me, out on the town tonight. It’ll be fun.”

Y/N gave him a pointed look. “Not happening.”

“Your loss,” Hawks said with a playful wink. “Catch you later, Miss Quirkless.” With that, he turned and sauntered out of the room, leaving behind an air of mischief and no small amount of irritation.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate slightly, though not entirely. Yamada let out a long breath, leaning back in his chair. “Does he always have to be like that?”

Y/N smirked faintly, glancing at the envelope on the desk. “He’s harmless,” she said, though her tone carried a hint of exasperation.

“Harmless, huh?” Aizawa muttered, his voice low as he leaned forward slightly. “He calls you ‘Miss Quirkless’ and thinks it’s funny.”

“It is kind of funny,” Y/N replied with a shrug. “I don’t mind it.”

Aizawa’s frown deepened, and he inched just a little closer to her, his protective instincts flaring. Yamada noticed the movement and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

For a moment, the room fell into an uneasy silence. Y/N picked up her pen again, returning to her notes, but she could feel the tension lingering in the air. It was clear that neither of her teachers was particularly thrilled with Hawks’ presence—or his familiarity with her.

Still, Y/N pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. There was a lot more of the Sports Festival to go, and she was determined to see it through. Hawks and his antics could wait. For now, she had work to do.

The commentator’s booth was quieter than usual. Present Mic—Hizashi Yamada—leaned against his desk, fingers drumming idly as he cast an occasional glance at Y/N. She was seated across from him, scribbling diligently in her notebook. Every now and then, she’d pause, tap her pen against her chin, and mutter something under her breath before jotting down another note. Her focus was unshakable, and her coffee cup, perched precariously close to the edge of the desk, remained untouched but still steaming.

Beside him, Shota Aizawa leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes half-lidded but sharp as they flicked between Yamada and Y/N. While the lively games in the stadium carried on below, their attention was entirely on her. She seemed oblivious to their scrutiny, which only made the tension between the two men more pronounced.

Aizawa's thoughts were practical, as they often were, though no less obsessive. Y/N had always been an enigma to him, but over the past few months, his fascination with her had grown into something far more personal. He had learned her habits—the way she drank coffee instead of eating, the exhaustion that lingered behind her every movement, the way she seemed to hold the world at arm’s length, even when she was surrounded by people. 

She was fragile, in a way that made him feel protective, yet there was a quiet resilience about her that he admired. That combination was dangerous, tugging at parts of him he’d long since buried. If he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t just Hawks he wanted to keep her away from—it was everyone. The thought of anyone else getting close to her, especially someone as careless and smug as Hawks, set his teeth on edge.

His gaze drifted to her coffee cup. She hadn’t eaten anything substantial today—again. That wasn’t unusual, but it wasn’t something he could let slide anymore. If she was going to stay in his orbit, she’d need to be cared for properly, and that meant feeding her. Feeding her the way she needed to be fed. 

Aizawa’s mind churned, his thoughts darkening. If he started bringing her food—real food—it might be enough to keep her content. He’d have to be careful, though, subtle. She was perceptive and independent, and if she suspected he was trying to take control, she’d resist. But if he could make it seem natural, like he was just looking out for her well-being, maybe she wouldn’t question it. Maybe she’d even come to rely on him. The idea sent a small, almost imperceptible shiver down his spine.

More than anything, he wanted her to stay. To choose him. And if that meant feeding her more frequently, ensuring she was always full, always satisfied, then so be it. He could handle that. He’d do whatever it took to make sure she never felt the need to look elsewhere—to look at Hawks. 

Beside him, Yamada’s thoughts were far less restrained. He’d always been the more outwardly exuberant of the two, his energy infectious and his enthusiasm hard to ignore. But underneath that cheerful exterior was a possessiveness that rivaled even Aizawa’s. 

Hizashi Yamada wasn’t used to being ignored. He thrived on attention, on being liked, and Y/N’s calm indifference to his charm only made him more determined to win her over. He watched her now, the way she leaned over her notebook, her pen moving swiftly across the page, and a dark, unbidden thought crept into his mind.

If he could just get her away from everyone else—just for a little while—she’d come around. She’d see that he wasn’t the loud, one-dimensional guy everyone thought he was. He could take care of her, protect her. All she needed was a little time to adjust, to see things his way. 

The idea of keeping her somewhere safe—somewhere only he could reach—wasn’t new, but it was becoming harder to ignore. A gilded cage, he thought, the words rolling through his mind like a mantra. He’d make it comfortable for her, luxurious even. She wouldn’t want for anything, and he’d be there to teach her, to guide her. She’d come to rely on him, to need him, and eventually, she’d love him. How could she not? He’d give her everything.

Of course, he couldn’t just take her. Not yet. But the thought of it lingered, sweet and insidious, as he watched her scribble another note in her book.

Aizawa’s voice broke the silence, low and measured. “You’re going to spill your coffee.”

Y/N glanced up, startled, and followed his gaze to the precariously balanced cup. She let out a small laugh, her lips curving into a faint smile as she moved it to a safer spot. “Thanks, Aizawa-sensei. I didn’t even notice.”

Aizawa gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable, but his chest tightened at the sight of her smile. It was such a rare thing, fleeting and soft, and it only solidified his resolve. 

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer before shifting back to Yamada. His friend looked far too amused, his grin wide and sharp, and Aizawa knew that look all too well. Yamada was scheming. 

“So, Y/N,” Yamada said, leaning forward, his tone casual but with an underlying edge of curiosity. “What’re you taking notes on? Planning to take over the world?”

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “Hardly. Just observations from the games earlier. Shinso’s performance, mostly. He’s got potential, but he’s still rough around the edges.”

Yamada hummed thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You always work so hard. Don’t you ever take a break?”

Y/N shrugged, her attention already drifting back to her notebook. “Not really. There’s too much to do.”

Aizawa and Yamada exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. They both wanted her attention, her focus, but for entirely different reasons. 

Aizawa’s mind circled back to his earlier thoughts. He needed to find a way to keep her close, to make sure she was cared for and content. If that meant stepping out of his comfort zone, so be it. He could be patient, methodical. He’d feed her, protect her, and ensure she had no reason to ever leave. 

Yamada, on the other hand, was less inclined toward subtlety. The idea of taking her away, of keeping her all to himself, was becoming more appealing by the second. He could imagine it so clearly—her locked away in a place only he could access, her days filled with his presence, his words, his attention. She’d hate him at first, maybe, but he’d win her over. He always did.

For now, though, they both stayed silent, their plans hidden behind carefully composed expressions. Y/N, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing between them, continued taking notes, her pen scratching softly against the paper. 

The games below carried on, the laughter and cheers of the crowd a stark contrast to the quiet intensity in the commentator’s booth. Aizawa and Yamada watched her, their thoughts spiraling in different but equally possessive directions, neither willing to give an inch. 

And Y/N, focused on her work and her ever-present cup of coffee, had no idea she was the center of it all.

[stokofsky]

Runners part 9

B-111 was excited to see what BX-626 had done with The Runner. Gray was simply no color for a space craft. He and K-3NT neared BX-626’s star port and he could see the glint of a wingtip through the tightly packed shuttles and starfighters parked all around it. He sped up.

“Where is the fiiiire?” K-3NT protested behind him. He’d done better in the foot traffic on the way back, B-111 had been happy to notice. But it still seemed to be unexpectedly taxing for him, mentally. B-111 was sure he’d get there, with time and practice.

“I want to see The Runner, Enty! Come on!” B-111 ducked under and around the other ships, all with mere centimeters of wiggle room between them. That was what was possible when only Droids were landing at a star port. When BX-626 had acquired this place more than a decade ago, she’d been told it could accommodate a maximum of six vessels. There had to be at least twice that parked here. And the Runner was parked right in the middle of it all.

It was sitting resplendent in the same dark metallic bronze finish he’d given his own plating, and that his old rouge-class had been finished in. It made an immensely pleasant difference.

“Why is it brown?” B-111 turned to find K-3NT looking up at the Runner as if bemused. His voice had certainly carried a tone of confusion. 

“Not brown!” B-111 said, irrepressible in his enthusiasm, “That, Enty, is Geonosian Bronze.”

“It looks like brown to me.” “Yeah, and your finish is pink.”

“No it isn’t! It’s Tskad bl-Oh.” K-3NTs shoulders sagged and he glared at B-111. “Very funny.” B-111 shrugged, “turnaround is fair and sound.” K-3NT gave him a sideways look.

B-111 ignored the look, and instead tapped a control surface on his wrist, opening the viewport hatch on the Runner. 

“Just going to leave without saying anything?” B-111 turned to see K-3NT tensely pointing his blaster rifle at BX-626.

“Where did you come from? There is a less than 30% chance you could have approached without detection in this environment.”

BX-626 walked up to K-3NT and forced his blaster point down with her hand. “I’m an assassin droid, slag-foot. I don’t go clomping around everywhere to announce my presence like your sort do.”

B-111 laughed. “I wasn’t going to leave, two-six, I wanted to check something.” 

“If you mean you want to know if I cleaned up your mess, then yeah. I had to move the ship to refinish it, and that involved actually interfacing with the controls. At all. Why in makers name did you not give your second seat its own instruments?”

“Thank you!” K-3NT cried. “That is exactly what I asked!”

“Didn’t need to,” B-111 replied, “I wasn’t planning on having anyone but the Armorer in that seat, and she’s definitely tall enough to see over my head. Besides, I was mostly focused on getting off that rock, not long term functionality.”

“Well, color me impressed then,” BX-626 said, looking the Runner over, “if that’s true, at least. Besides the ugly wiring to your added auxiliaries, everything on here is completely functional. For not thinking of much, you sure did think of everything.”

“So good to hear positivity from you, Two-Six, always so lovely.” B-111 made an exaggerated bow. 

“So are you going to square up your tab now, or after your next job is done?”

B-111 reached into the storage compartment on his jetpack. He took out a handful of coins, which he proffered to BX-626. She looked at the glittering credits and nodded, holding her own hand out and letting B-111 drop them in. 

She tossed the coins and caught them in her other hand. “That will do it, there’s a bit too much here, but I imagine you’ll be back, so I’ll add it as pre-pay to your tab.”

B-111 hopped into the pilots seat and gave a quick salute to BX-626. “That’s nice of you, but you can keep the change. If we ever come back here, we’ll have plenty of credits to go around.”

K-3NT, who had been hoisting himself into the cockpit of The Runner, paused and made a spluttering sound. “‘If’? What do you mean ‘if’? I thought you were on the warriors path, don’t warriors speak in absolutes?”

“Relax about it, Enty! A warrior knows that his path is fraught with danger, and there exists a greater than zero chance he fails in his undertaking. That is why he walks it, to know there is a challenge and purpose! Now get in.”

K-3NT stared at B-111. He turned and stared at BX-626. BX-626 shrugged her shoulders. K-3NT sighed and got into his chair, grumbling throughout the process. BX-626 waved at them as B-111 closed the canopy once more. 

He turned to speak over his shoulder. “Are you buckled, Enty?”

“Yes, I am.” K-3NT sounded huffy. 

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. I am.” He repeated.

“Good!” B-111 said, taking his hands from the controls. “Then taxi us out of atmo-space.”

“What?”

“Were you a shuttle pilot or weren’t you? Come on, take us to space.”

“But I, that is to say, where are we?”

B-111 reached down and tapped at the navicomputer for a moment. “There, jump path programed, now will you please take us out to space?”

“I don’t see why I-”

B-111 turned around again. “Enty… is there a problem?” He’d expected K-3NT to be happy to have the chance to prove his effectuality, happy to have purpose to keep his mind off his present existential crisis. He hadn’t expected this level of resistance.

“I’ve only ever taxied between empty landing pads and capital ships, One-Eleven! I’ve never dealt with… all of that!” He waved his hands generally above his head.

“Enty… ‘all that’ is the most orderly, predictable speeder traffic system this side of Mon Cala.” His words were met with silence. B-111 decided to try a new strategy. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

He sat forwards again, took the controls, and shot the Runner straight up at its maximum lateral traversal rate. “One-Eleven…” K-3NT said behind him. He ignored K-3NT. He halted their vertical climb right before they made contact with an overhead skybridge. He then slammed the throttle to maximum, taking them rocketing straight forwards. He knew, of course, that he was well within his own limits when playing this game. He’d been flying this part of coruscants lower levels for more than a decade, often with far less regard than he had now. But this was enough for K-3NT. 

“One-Eleven! STOP!” B-111 complied instantly, bringing them to a total halt and causing them both to be thrown forwards against their safety harnesses. 

“Alright, Enty, what now?” B-111 waited, and The Runner began to gently move. 

“I will take it from here, thank you very much. You are such a dreadful brute, One-Eleven, and very insensitive.”

“I’m a battle droid.”

“So what? So am I!”

“I thought you were an enforcer droid.”

There was silence as they continued to gracefully lift up through the many levels of the city-planet. When they had left atmospace, B-111 double checked the navicomputer. “We’re ready for the jump,” he said to K-3NT, “Throw the lever at your leisure.”

“Where are you taking us?” K-3NT asked, the tone of suspicion not even concealed in his voice.

“Approximately 150 megameters off the surface of Rothana, where currently there rests a Kuat Drive Yards mobile proving platform. We are going to dock, and deliver the data tape which I, heh, liberated from Sienar Fleet Systems. After we have done this, and been paid handsomely for it, we will then travers away from the proving platform, far enough to be blocked from sight by the planet itself, and then land. We will then infiltrate a top secret KDY skunkwerks and steal their protected IP and abscond.”

B-111 waited for a response. He waited for K-3NT to ignore him and initiate the jump to hyperspace. He waited, it seemed, in vain. He turned to find K-3NT sitting still, his hands hovering just above the controls. “Enty, what are you waiting for?”

K-3NT looked at B-111. “I’m just processing. It is unexpected to me that you have even a semblance of a plan.”

“I’ve been executing a plan this whole time! Being marooned on that moon, needing to slap The Runner together, finding you, these were slight detours to that plan, but we are finally now back on that plan.”

“Huh,” was all K-3NT said to this. He reached past B-111 and cranked the jump lever. The Runner shuddered and jumped into hyperspace.

It was a long jump, during which B-111 stayed ready for K-3NT to ask questions. But K-3NT remained silent. Hours passed. B-111 became worried. Why was K-3NT not saying anything? Was he facing his emancipation purely within his own mind? B-111 wondered, dimly, if he had pushed too far and in the wrong direction earlier. But he held to his position, K-3NT would have to ask him for help to get it.

When they dropped back out of hyperspace, the thought of K-3NTs silence fled B-111s mind. It was time for action, time for focus. 

To the ships starboard loomed Rothana, imposing and orange. It almost looked like geonosis from this angle. Floating right in front of them was the proving platform. A large orbital facility that Kuat Drive Yards used to test their propulsion systems in zero gravity. 

B-111 took the controls and taxied them cautiously towards the platform. He pressed a button on the instrument cluster, “Proving platform, this is datahound, inbound with a delivery.”

“What are you doing?” Asked K-3NT, finally breaking his silence.

“What do you think, Enty? They aren’t just going to let us land. I previously arranged all this, datahound is my codename for this operation.”

“Operation? One-Eleven, we’re data thieves, not special agents.”

“Enty, a warrior does not allow his enemies to assign him his titles, that is the path.”

K-3NT was not allowed to retort, as the reply came over the comlink at that moment. “Datahound… you’re late, can you please verify you have not been compromised?”

“Oh, wonderful!”

“Quiet, Enty!” B-111 pressed the comlink button once more. “The item was, shall we say, stuck in shipping longer than I expected, and a bit harder to find.”

“We don’t want excuses, verify your safe code, dadahound.”

K-3NT leaned forwards, putting his head right next to B-111s, “what is the safe code? Should I have known the safe code? I think I should have.”

“Shh,” B-111 said, waving K-3NT back. He turned back to the instrument cluster. “Mon Cala; thirteen; halogen; seven; deep water; forty nine; cast ingot; two; harvest field; nine; vacuum. Confirm?”

B-111 waited for what seemed a tad longer than strictly necessary before, “confirm. Proceed to hangar bay.”

“Enty, when I said ‘let me do the talking’ I really meant it. I’ve been planning this operation for almost a year; I have contingencies, I have contingencies for contingencies; so if you don’t quite know what is happening, follow my lead.”

“I would have appreciated being brought up to speed, One-Eleven.”

B-111 was surprised to hear K-3NTs tone wasn’t sulky, just matter-of-fact. Also, he was stung by the correctness of this statement. “I am sorry Enty, I… hadn’t thought about any of that. I will fully brief you in the future.”

“Thank you,” said K-3NT, “Now let me get us landed. You’ll probably make them even more on edge if you land like a ‘slagfoot’ as usual.”

B-111 shrugged, sitting back in his seat. “Suit yourself, Enty.”

[rafent]

"I suspect this will be an interesting game, don't you?"

In one hand, she holds a yellow ribbon recently obtained as she makes her approach—Poe has never been the sort to make her allegiances subtle, and she sees no reason to change that here. The game proper may not start for a while longer, but even now there is plenty to do. To make note of who is here and under what banner, to begin to gather first impressions… that, perhaps, was more vital than anything else.

She is not surprised they are not assigned the same team. After all, that would be far too easy.

(These are far better circumstances anyway, are they not?)

From a strategic standpoint, she has no reason to offer anything besides small talk here. She knows not what she stands to gain, nor what she stands to lose. There are not yet any chips on the table, nor have the cards been dealt. But she has never considered herself much of a player, and winning the game for herself has never been her priority. Carefully, she tears a strip from her bandana—such an imperfection won't be visible once she's tied it up anyway—and places it in the palm of the other's hand.

"No matter which team you may be on… I hope you will remember that I am here, as I always am."

Equally could it be read as declaration or expectation; perhaps in its ambiguity, it is both and neither.

Ghosts need not only be of the dead, of course, and if there existed anyone as testament, it would be her. Any suitable hour and wild locale to compose the makings of Poe's haunting grounds, that seamless approach which brought judge to judged bordered on nonchalance; his solitary stance joined without announcement, and with little need for adjustment. What had happened once, twice, several times, then several more, was just about as familiar as day into night. He to slip as naturally into conversation as she had welcomed herself into it, yet again.

"Humph. Interesting is the least of all words I would choose." As much as Poe thought her rightful place to be within Rafal's mind, his own pride belonged there also. What interest could be salvaged from a competition with the great determinant of a Fell Dragon's ability? A challenge was all that could be hoped for. "More importantly, you are as shameless as always. Our teams are not the same, and yet you desire that constant seat in my thoughts all the same. Such adorable wants could stand to be expressed more. . .adorably."

Loud the exasperation, teasing the amusement, and yet still his fingers curled in acceptance around the offering. More territorial marking. How burdensome and demanding she was. Remember me, keep me close, she all but trumpeted in the whispering slide of yellow ribbon into palm, the imposition of something hers into something his. Never mind that he would do those things regardless.

"Very well." But he sobered - straightened - on his acknowledgement. Whether or not the promise of her unseen eyes should hover, the sinner would acquit himself in the ways he deemed appropriate, sufficing by his sights alone. With the most important statements yet to come furthermore— "Unlike you, however, know that I've no need for words. Out there, my actions will serve instead."

A glance over the shoulder, that might be searing fire, that might be cutting wind or enduring storm; each and all that was Rafal. "And I will be worth remembering."

[introvertedlass]

Hi, I hope you don’t mind me sharing a controversial opinion here.

You might post this and that’s fine but I just wanted to share my opinion.

I would like to point out that I am someone who leans heavily that this is PR because there are to many inconsistencies that don’t add up to this being a real relationship. And what I am about to say is really just a thought based on Talk and observations I have seen.

So, in my opinion, I don’t believe the thought process of “he signed this thinking his fans will back him up no matter what”

I feel like these things are far more complex and this is just another way for many fans to justly their anger because there is no for us to know that this is the complete truth.

Could he have signed this and disregarded his fans and how they will used in this? Probably yes. But we can’t say that it’s a 100% fact when we don’t have all the other variables in the equation.

I personally feel like there are too many variables here to consider first before we get to this point. And I know to many I am sounding like I am making excuses, but I will say it again, we don’t know many things that have happened/are happening behind the scenes.

Please remember that I am believe this is PR and is a contract so my thought process may not match yours

One of the things to consider, was this a new contact designed for this specific situation/future projects/current projects or was this part of his employment contract that was disregarded previous and now being used? Or is this part of an old pricey contract he signed and was unaware of?

Another thing, what were the terms discussed, if they were ever. What I mean is, when he signed what were the things he was told about the situation/contract.

If this is a new contract, then He must have been negotiating for something right? Was the PR situation upfront on the table or was this added later when he was so close just to push him to say yes, or did he say yes under the impression this is a simple one time thing? Was this properly negotiated or was he simply leaving everything for other people to do and all he was focused on was the end?

Because here is thing, and no offence to those with sources, but there is no way he signed a contract with the presence of his team there. Which makes me think he was might have been misled about the terms. I am pretty sure that after so many year with his agency he would trust them when they present him with a contract and he simply signs without reading. But I don’t believe he could go to another country and sign a contract without the knowledge of lawyer and representation.

Was any of this pre approved or was this, play as you go type of situation? For example, was there a general plan that was agreed to, or was this a step by step plan?

First this happens, and then that happens and so on. Or was this just them going “we need an announcement, how about we do this” and then doing it.

I am going to stop here because I think I made my point.

I would also like to add another thing, if we can to start accusing him of doing something we need to all call out other who do them as well, because I feel like people are simply trying to be mean and not fair at this point. He is not the only personal in the industry that uses fans, they all.

Because here is the thing, Hollywood and talent agencies, they are all disgusting and have absolutely no morals. Just remember there are still many harvey weinstein and jeffrey epstein in this industry. And they all turn a blind eye until they can’t.

If we are want to call him out, you need to call all of them out for their hypocrisy. Otherwise you are nothing but a performative activist, who will select who to call out based how hurt you are.

He might be part of the problem but he is not the whole problem, there plenty of problematic actors who have done worse things and they are doing better than him. If you really want to change the way things are and want to call the hypocrisy and unfairness that you feel. You hold him accountable for his actions but you also call out other with the same behaviour, don’t over look them because they are better actor or have better careers and didn’t hurt you. That’s not how calling for change works.

Sorry for the long essay.

Anon

[candy-floss-crazy]

The world renowned graffiti artist, Banks'y happens to be a favourite of my daughters. To be honest I quite like his style too. A few years back when she was studying art at school, she made Banksy her special project, so one day we jumped in the car and drove to Bristol to visit his artworks in the flesh so to speak. When he announced the Dismaland project, a theme park not suitable for kids as he put it, at an old Lido in Weston Super Mere. We were lucky enough to secure tickets for us and a couple of Emmerson's friends. My wife hates using our car due to the size and fuel consumption, but none of the vans would fit 5 people, so I got to enjoy a blast all the way down the country in my Mas. During the periods the wife fell asleep I got to enjoy the 400+ horses under the bonnet without screams of "Look at the fuel consumption" lol. When we got to the park, the queue was enormous. It was then that I realised a possible problem. I had actually bought the tickets on ebay, not through a regular channel as they were next to impossible to obtain. Basically the ticket was a sheet of A4 paper with a barcode. Anyone could have put them together, or the same ticket could have been sold multiple times. Crap, but I did have a cunning plan, I sent the kids in first to see what happened. In the event they walked straight in so we were ok. A Park With A Difference Now the park itself was different, very different, but something we all enjoyed. However I have to say it brought a worrying trend home. The whole idea was that the park was meant to be a dismal, unfriendly place, with surly staff that couldn't be bothered with the customers. A spoof on a traditional fairground. Thing I realised was, the customer service part was pretty much what you see on some fairgrounds today. Young kids in the stalls playing on their phones who viewed you as a nuisance if you wanted to play. Operators in the rides looking bored and disinterested. At one point the wife and I were stood debating whether we should go into a particular structure. When the girl on the outside shouted at us "In or out, in or out, don't stand there blocking the ride, make your mind up!" I burst out laughing, because a very good friend of mine has exactly the same customer facing skills. I have seen her shout very similar commands when some poor unfortunate is stood at the ride entrance making their mind up. I was impressed by the thought that had gone into the attractions. To be sure they were taking traditional funfair attractions and twisting them into some steam punk, distressed interpretation of what they would have been. But in some cases hitting the nail right on the head. It's Impossible To Win! Take topple the anvil for instance. I should imagine its physically impossible to knock an anvil off the shelf with a rubber ball. But then, there are games I have seen on fairgrounds that are equally impossible. The traditional coconut shie was renowned for having 'duds', that is some of the coconuts you were trying to knock off were actually metal replicas. Nothing short of an Exocet missile would move them. One of my favourite shows was death riding the dodgem car. Played to trance music it was one of the earlier attractions we encountered and was just plain funny. There was plenty of Banksy's political commentary, such as the coin operated remote control boats. Which happened to be boats filled with refugees. Or the exhibition of various weapons used by governments to oppress the people. There were also some weird commentary on consumerism and minority representation such as the gifts below sold in the shop. Battlefield Casualty Action Man But The Food Was Good Lol, even the catering didn't escape his vitriol. Although some people slated the park, I think it is because they just didn't get the sarcasm mixed with social commentary undercurrent that it was put together with. We had a great time. Sources; Dismaland http://www.dismaland.co.uk Banksy https://www.banksy.co.uk Read the full article

[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (10)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: smut, sex content, religious guilt, fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

______

The Queen was delighted when Lady Stark announced the next day that she wished to go with Prince Aemond to the Great Sept. She expressed her joy that her son's betrothed wanted to learn about his faith and tradition.

Y/N smiled warmly at those words and glanced at Aemond, who was watching her intently from the side. He remembered what had happened between them in the night and what her motives were. His gaze was black.

Of course, Lady Stark and Prince Aemond couldn't go there alone. Ser Criston was to accompany them. They all donned long gray cloaks and wide hoods over their heads so as not to draw attention to themselves.

For the first time, Lady Stark was able to leave Red Keep and walk the usual roads of Kings Landing. She was amazed at how alive and busy the streets were. There were plenty of shops, taverns and stalls everywhere, the city was bustling with life. She watched everything with curiosity.

She knew Aemond was watching her closely. After what had happened between them that night, they hadn't spoken to each other since morning. The truth was that neither of them knew what to say. They both felt like they were cursed. The way they interacted with each other was addictive.

Lady Stark noticed Great Sept. It was a massive building with a large dome and beautiful stained glass windows with a seven-pointed star motif. To get to there, they had to climb the high stairs to the very top. Ser Criston had been telling her stories about this place.

Lady Stark asked him to explain to her the main tenets of their faith and tell her something about each of their gods. The enigmatic Stranger intrigued her the most. She knew, however, that according to the will of her future husband, she was to pray to the Maiden and Mother for forgiveness.

Inside, the temple was very impressive. The space filled with large candlesticks, on which hundreds of candles were burning, was surrounded by huge statues with representations of seven gods. They looked down on them disconcertingly, their faces illuminated by candles and stained-glass windows. Ser Criston said he would retire and wait outside the temple to let them pray in peace.

As soon as he left, Aemond and Y/N looked at each other. Lady Stark couldn't help an involuntary smile of amusement that made the prince roll his eye impatiently.

Not wanting to annoy him further, she obediently knelt on a kneeler by one of the candlesticks, clasping her hands in prayer. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

After a moment, she heard the creaking of wood under the weight of someone, and she knew without looking that Aemond had also knelt beside her. There was absolute silence in the temple. They heard only the sound of someone's footsteps, but no one spoke.

Lady Stark tried her hardest to devote herself to fervent prayer. She begged the Mother and the Maiden not to burn her alive after death. To express understanding for her weaknesses. To not punish her future husband for her sins.

She couldn't shake the thoughts and memories of their night together. What his wonderful, royal tongue was doing to her. The very thought made her shiver. She clenched her hands into a fist, swallowing hard. She knew they were doomed.

That they would pray for forgiveness every morning and end up in bed together at night, pleasing each other. They pretended that they try their best to hold back and they both knew that wasn't true.

After a quarter of an hour, Y/N felt discomfort in her knees. She shifted on the kneeler, trying to put the emphasis on another part of her legs. She heard Aemond move and felt him looking at her.

He had hoped that she would give up. Say that everything hurts her, and that she would beg him to go back to the Red Keep. But she decided she wouldn't give him the satisfaction and did as she was told. She wanted him to feel remorse, to want to kiss her aching, red knees.

For the last few minutes, she was actually sitting on her feet, unable to hold her weight properly anymore. Her legs were shaking slightly, but she tried not to think about it. To make the time pass faster, she imagined what she had thought of back in Winterfell. That he comes to her now, picks up her dress, and then takes her in the presence of his gods.

She imagined how nice it would be to feel him all inside her, what a sense of accomplishment it would give her. She swallowed softly and smiled to herself as she felt her wetness trickle down slowly between her thighs.

She thought she had just polluted this sacred place and he didn't even know it. She opened her eyes and was surprised to find that he was watching her intensely. She wondered if her expression somehow conveyed what she was thinking.

Aemond stood up, and she took that as a sign that she might as well. She staggered, feeling her legs go numb, and grabbed the railing. Aemond approached her, concerned.

"Everything's all right?" He asked quietly. Y/N nodded without looking at him.

"Yes, my prince. It was an intense, thoughtful hour for me.” She spoke truthfully, trying to keep her face serious. Aemond pursed his lips as he looked at her and motioned for them to head for the exit. The relief she felt at finally walking normally was indescribable.

The sunlight nearly blinded her as they stepped outside. Ser Criston rose from the stone bench and started toward them.

"How did you like it, my Lady?" He asked, obviously interested in her opinion as someone who had never encountered it before.

"Very much. I want to come here every day." She said calmly, and Aemond gave her a surprised look. Clearly, he hadn't expected her to take his words so literally.

When they returned, Y/N immediately went to her chamber. He followed her in and closed the door, locking it. She looked at him, feigning surprise.

"What are you doing, my prince? We shouldn't be in the same room unsupervised." She said calmly, raising her eyebrows. Aemond approached her impatiently.

"Show me." He said dryly. Lady Stark didn't know what he meant. "Your knees." He said more clearly.

"I can't. What would your mother say?” She asked with a smile, but he, annoyed by her behavior, grabbed her hips and sat her on a soft couch.

She couldn't hide her surprise and excitement as he knelt before her and shamelessly lifted her dress, revealing her bare legs. Her knees were all red and swollen. Aemond leaned in to kiss each of them, massaging them in his hands.

"Why didn't you tell me you were suffering?" He asked, looking at her, trying not to glance at her partially exposed thighs. Y/N pursed her lips.

“I want to be worthy to wear your mother's necklace. I'll go there tomorrow too." She said calmly.

"No." Aemond said, frowning. He knew she was playing him, that everything she did was just to tease him, to upset him. Lady Stark turned over in her seat, her face expressing displeasure.

"You don't have to come with me. I'll go there alone, with Ser Criston. I am free to pray as much as I want. If you stop me, I will complain to the queen." She said and stopped as he jumped up and leaned over her abruptly, his hands on either side of her head. His jaw was clenched, his nose was twitching in warning, he was furious.

"What do you want from me, woman? For me to fuck you right here, on this bed, in broad daylight? Do you want me to do that?" He asked, his hand slid under her dress and gripped her tight.

She drew in a quick breath, embarrassed and excited at the same time. She saw that he was on the edge and he didn't know what to do with her. She swallowed hard as she looked at him.

"Yes." She said softly, not believing it really came out of her mouth. But that was the truth. She couldn't even be ashamed anymore.

She saw his lower lip quiver at her words as he shuddered. His chest heaved at an accelerated pace. She could see that there was a battle in his head now, that everything he believed was melting away in front of him.

"If I do this, will you finally calm down and behave yourself?" He asked, his voice trembling slightly. Lady Stark looked at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly parted. She could feel it literally leaking between her thighs.

"Yes." She whispered, though she knew she couldn't promise him that. Her whole body trembled with tension and anticipation. His eye was dilated. She saw everything in him - anger, fear and dark, all-devouring desire.

Her heart started pounding like crazy and her throat went dry as she saw him undo his pants. She settled down quickly under him, breathing heavily, looking at him expectantly. Never in her life had she wanted anyone or anything as much as him right now.

Aemond lifted her dress so she couldn't quite see what was going on. She didn't need it now, she just wanted to feel him inside her at last, wanted him to take all of her and leave her nothing. She pursed her lips and threw her head back as she felt his fingers touch her wet entrance. Aemond moaned low.

"Gods, you're leaking" He whispered, looking spellbound at his fingers touching her wet entrance. He couldn't hide how turned on he was and how much he needed it. He looked at her, his gaze dark as earlier in the night, his face stony.

"Spread your thighs wide." He said in a tone that brooked no argument. Y/N did it immediately, breathing heavily. Aemond leaned over her, his hands on either side of her head, staring at her with a mixture of rage, pain and euphoria.

"If you make even one loud noise, I'll stop, do you understand?" He asked through clenched teeth. Lady Stark swallowed loudly, her heart was pounding like crazy, the space between her thighs demanded the desired fulfillment.

"Yes." She whispered softly.

Aemond leaned down and buried his face in her hair. She shivered all over and hugged him tight as she felt his manhood brush against her entrance. She didn't know how to keep quiet, so she buried her face into his shoulder, breathing heavily.

She gripped his leather jacket tighter as she felt the tip of him pressing against her entrance. Her hand involuntarily went lower to help him, parting her skin slightly. They both shivered as they felt him enter her a little.

"Tell me if the pain becomes unbearable." He whispered in her ear and entered her deeply. They both gasped for air and let it out, stifling moans of pleasure, their hands clenching their bodies.

Despite some discomfort from the way he filled her and a slight pain, Lady Stark knew she had never known such a wonderful feeling before. She spread her thighs even wider and they both moaned softly with pleasure when they felt that he entered her to the end.

Only then did he lift himself up slightly to look at her. He thought he would see pain and terror in her eyes, but he didn't. Y/N touched his cheek, her lips slightly parted.

"My prince." She whispered softly, her eyes warm and thirsty. He shivered at the sight, feeling his cock throbbing all over her insides.

Aemond squeezed his eye shut, feeling how tight and hot she was. Their shared fluids ran down their thighs. Never in his life had he wanted so much to be inside a woman. He stroked her thigh lightly, as if to check if she was okay, if she reacted to his movements.

He pressed his forehead against hers, slowly sliding out of her. She moaned and pursed her lips, trying to hold back any sounds as he slide inside her again. He could feel their bodies quivering with excitement. That there was no salvation for them even if he wanted to. He couldn't stand it any longer. He just wanted to fuck her.

His cock began to slide in and out of her in a lazy rhythm, rubbing where his tongue and fingers had touched her before. They both opened their mouths at the sensation, panting heavily. The delight he felt was indescribable. No whore gave him as much pleasure as her hot, clenching, wet cunt gave him right now.

"You will destroy me, woman. I cannot sleep or rest because of you." He said, broken, and she moaned, covering her mouth as he sped up, thrusting her harder and harder, his cock entering her all the way.

He was filling her wonderfully and completely, waves of heat rushing through her with each thrust. She heard the wet sound of their bodies hitting each other. She had not thought that such an animal, physical sensation could be such a delight.

"Punish me, my prince. Make me regret my actions." She mumbled, and he moaned low, gripping her hips tightly and thrusting into her brutally, with all his strenght.

She knew it wasn't a sweet act of love between prince and lady right now. He fucked her, fucked her like a whore in a brothel and that's all what she wanted right now.

She arched back, grabbing the armrest with her hand, her whole body surrendering to its intense rhythm, both of them thinking only about coming, sweat pouring down their bodies.

Aemond thought he would die before marrying her. That there was no hope left for them, that he had to abduct her as soon as possible and forcefully make her his wife or he would go completely insane. The sight of her beneath him, the pleasure etched on her face, her parted lips and misty gaze made him unable to take his eye off her.

They weren't even naked, and they were doing the filthiest thing in their lives anyway. He thought with both embarrassment and delight that her tight cunt was just made for him.

He squeezed his eye shut in despair as he felt himself close to fullfilment, her hips responding eagerly to his every thrust, his tighs slapping hard against her buttocks, their juices spilling under them, creating a wet stain on the couch underneath.

They were both panting, holding on tight. He moaned low as he felt Y/N grab his buttocks and pound herself against him, her walls pressing tighter. He fucked her, panting with pleasure, his thrusts sharp, fast and wild, no longer holding back in any way.

"Gods, Aemond, yes" She mumbled and leaned back, voice froze in her throat as she pressed her cheek against the pillow. She couldn't help herself and moaned loudly as the strongest orgasm of her life flowed brutally and almost painfully through her body.

Aemond covered her mouth with his hand, leaned over her, and buried his face in her neck. He stifled his loud, low groan that way as he pulled out of her and came on her dress, massaging himself for a while longer, his cock throbbing hard and hot all over, his sticky cum dripping endlessly from him.

He collapsed on top of her, trying not to crush her. They were both panting heavily as they lay with their eyes closed. They don't even have the strength to move their hands. They knew they were cursed by the gods.

His fear that he might have hurt her melted away like morning mist. No woman had given him such pleasure, and no woman had reacted to him the way she had. He knew that now, that he had known the wonderful feeling of being inside her, he wouldn't stop at this one time. He shivered when he heard her voice.

"Thank you, my prince. I promise I'll be a good wife."

_____

If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @namoreno @dreamlandcreations @darkenchantress @moira-strangle-me-please @yentroucnagol @cloudroomblog @thehumanistsdiary

[safarigirlsp]

Did you see the announcement that Adam is going to be in Heat 2 with Michael Mann again? What are your thoughts on that? Do you have any dream team directors you would like to see him work with? I wish he’d do the Chloe Zhao Dracula movie!

HI! Sorry it took me a while to get to this.

I did hear the Michael Mann announcement, and all AD movie announcements are definitely good news to me! I've never been super impressed with Mann as a director and I have disliked all of his movies that I've seen, which admittedly aren't all of them. I'd be very happy if he did a Last Mohicans 2 and let AD have long hair and run around shirtless for 2 hours fucking people up with a hatchet, but Heat 2 isn't really blowing my skirt up. In all fairness, I've never Heat 1 so now I need to. I'll see how he looks in it before I get too excited lol. I made that mistake with Megalopolis by getting super excited over an upcoming movie only to have my hopes crushed when the first pics leaked. Megalopolis now falls under the same category for me as White Noise - I'll watch it, but I'm going to bitch the whole time, and need a Jacques and Mills mental palette cleanser afterward!

I haven't see a Chloe Zhao movie, so I can't weigh in on her as a director. But I have heard the Dracula rumors and how it's supposed to be a Dracula Western and omfg I would love that!! That would definitely be on my dream list of AD movies. However, I personally speculate that with the new stupidly fun looking Nic Cage Dracula movie coming out, AD will not want to take a Dracula role. Which is really too bad. But I think he likes to be more original than that. I'd love to be wrong though!

Here are the directors I'd love to see him work with! The first three are my top three in order, then they're just random as they came into my head.

Chad Stahelski aka the John Wick director! AD needs to be the next John Wick! Or a bad guy in a John Wick movie! Or anything similar! Absolutely one of my dream roles for him! The John Wick movies are favorites, complete with some of the best action around, hot and well dressed men, gorgeous cinematography, and kick ass music. I love them! AD in a John Wick sort of role and all the things that are bound up in that get my #1 vote!

Quentin Tarantino. I have my fingers crossed that AD will be in his upcoming movie! That would be a dream for me! Inglorious Basterds, Once Upon A Time in Hollywood, Django Unchained, and Deathproof are some favorites of mine. AD really has to get Tarantino on his punch card for the best directors out there, and I really hope he doesn't miss the opportunity to work with him.

Clint Eastwood. Preferably in a western playing a scruffy cowboy with facial scars! I love Clint Eastwood and he's so good and genuine with creating rugged manly men. I grew up watching his movies and loving them all and I still do. Unforgiven, The Outlaw Josey Wales, and Two Mules for Sister Sara are favorites of mine.

Robert Eggars. I would actually bet that AD will team up with him at some point because they’re both young and have plenty of time to do so, and they both like strong talent and making dark weird things. They’re meant for each other! I personally want another hyper masculine role like Northman. I would kill to see AD in something like that! They could even repeat the naked volcano fight and I wouldn't mind at all!

Tim Burton. Gorgeous movies with great occult vibes! AD would be perfect to play a dark disturbed Victorian dude!

Guy Richie. Great action, great characters, hilarious dialogue. His movies are all a blast!

Kenneth Branagh. HIs movies are so beautiful! I'd kill for AD to have been in Death on the Nile! That would have kept my adventurer vibes going for years! Any intelligent, beautifully filmed, period murder mystery would be great by me.

Guillermo Del Toro. Another director who does beautiful and dark so well! Weird, macabre, and a match made in heaven!

Ridley Scott. In another period movie! By making him so unbelievably hot as Jacques and letting him lean fully into his hotness, Ridley is now one of my all-time favorite directors! He was in my favorites anyway and I love so many of his movies, but that gave him an extra boost! Ridley did two awesome period movies with Russell Crowe. They actually did five movies together total - three of them were great and one was even a romantic comedy! Ridley owes the same with AD as a minimum! He's another top tier choice for me for another period piece or an epic.

After Cocaine Bear, Elizabeth Banks gets my vote for the woman director he should work with first! That was so much fun and I would love to see AD in a campy action/horror comedy where he could do dark physical comedy.

These next three would never happen, but it’d be so much fun!

Gore Verbinsky. Some first rate adventure like Pirates of the Caribbean! I love those moves so much!

Stephen Sommers. The Mummy and Van Helsing are some of my all time favorites and anything similar would be a blast with him!

Baz Lurhman. I don’t actually like a lot of his movies, but they’re all SO gorgeous and he lets his men be hot! AD needs to make more pretty movies! Baz took my second favorite, Hugh Jackman, and gave him his hottest role ever in the western Australia. It was hard to top Wolverine, but Baz did it!

I actually feel super lucky and very happy that two of my dream roles for him he’s already done, and even luckier that they’re the two where I find him the absolute hottest! A badass knight and a rugged action hero!

I'd love to know who everyone else has on their dream list of directors if anyone wants to weigh in!

[ktheist]

lips? sealed. legs? spread.

premise. because of the pandemic, you’re forced to have your graduation online. but that’s not stopping you from driving down to the beach to celebrate with your friends. it just so happens that you’re the main attraction of the night.

muses. jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jeongguk x reader, yoongi x reader, yoongi x jimin.

word. 3.6k

warnings. consensual gangbang. public sex. unprotected sex. sex on the beach. bigdick!tae, bigdick!jeongguk, thick dick!jimin

note. this is pure absolute filth. idek why i wrote this.

x

it started with truth or dare before the word “boring” comes out of park jimin’s mouth and a “strip” added to cure that boredom to get you through the night. lisa manoban ends up stripped down to her panties and bra and steps out of the game.

“nah, i’m out, you guys have fun though.” she waves her hand in surrender, picks up her clothes and slips away from the circle to emphasize on her withdrawal from the game.

a series of ‘aww’s and ‘boo’s follow from you and the rest before hoseok disappears five minutes later, saying something about needing to take a number 1 but never coming back and getting forgotten by everyone.

he’s probably left to check up on lisa who said she was going to grab some snacks from the convenience store that’s just three minutes away from the beach.

the flames of the custom made bonfire dance in the night, cackling and laughing when it’s your turn to discard your bra. the chilly air making your nipples stand. your cheeks are burning as you cross your arm over your exposed chest. the hesitant way you look down and bite your lip is enough indication that you’re thinking twice about being the sole winner of tonight’s strip truth or dare. kim taehyung attempts to place his jacket around you but is met by a series of protests.

“if you wanna put on a jacket, you gotta be prepared to admit defeat. that’s the rule.” or so jeon jeongguk announces.

“never heard of that rule before.” kim jennie looks at him with an elaborated twist of her eyebrows to show the utter confusion and absurdity she finds in his words.

“yeah, well, now you know,” jeongguk winks.

it’s either because of the man’s flirtatious advancements or because she really needs to go to the bathroom, that she stands up, pick up the shirt and the only piece of article she’s taken off and walks towards the cars. somewhere a few feet away, the lights of the convenience store and closed diner illuminates the area.

jisoo shoots you a look that you shoot back with another look of determination. if there’s anything you’d never be caught dead doing, it’s raising the white flag before jeon jeongguk does.

so she ends up chasing after jennie on her own.

“anyone else wanna be loser?” jeongguk asks, vanity apparent in his voice.

you wonder how it’s not shivering in the cold with how he’s stripped naked to his boxers.

“i need to get some water,” seokjin announces and struts towards the direction the girls were headed.

he’s one of the lucky few that managed to keep his clothes on throughout the game. 

it’s become an unspoken knowledge that the ones who backed out will go home in seokjin’s jeep.

there’s only you, taehyung, jimin, jeongguk and yoongi.

namjoon was the first to leave because his girlfriend called him crying for some reason and he’s the kind of man that would come running to his girl. somewhere in your heart, you feel a tinge of jealousy for chaeyoung for having such an amazing man who loves her to the moon and back.

“this is getting boring.” jimin confesses for the second time of the night, bringing the bottle to his plump lips.

“let’s play 7 minutes in heaven.” jeongguk suggests, “we’re all bored here.”

“but there’s just one girl...” jimin murmurs to himself.

“so? you can make out with one of us,” taehyung winks.

but jimin’s shyly looking down and smiling is the last thing you expect to see. he’d usually just brush off his best friend’s advancements by laughing or flirting back but never speechless.

“alright, here’s the bottle,” jeongguk says afer gulping down the whole content of the beer and lifting the opaque glass in the air, “game’s simple, it’s like spin the bottle but instead of making out, you spend 7 minutes in one of the cars.”

“no –not my car,” jimin complains, throwing his head back, probably recalling that time when he lent jeaongguk his car and in the morning, started blowing everyone’s phone up by spamming the group chat, sending death threats to jeongguk for those stains in the back seat.

“i’m out.” yoongi says simply, but doesn’t move from his spot which is sitting on the log between taehyung and jimin.

his porcelain skin is painted auburn from the fire in front of him. he raises the beer to his mouth and starts downing it.

“ugh okay, okay, how about just making out here for 7 minutes?” jeongguk mediates.

that receives a moderate response of ‘not-so-thrilled-but-not-against-it’ kind of nod.

jeongguk places the bottle down on the ground and yoongi plainly points, “that’s not how physics work.”

“shh,” the younger man shushes him up, “it’s gonna work.”

then he spins the bottle just a few centimeters above the sand. the opaque bottle spins in the air for the briefest moment before it lands on the grainy sand, it’s top pointed straight at you.

“okay, so me and ___ are the first pair.” he grins, excitement flashing across his eyes.

jimin goes next, mimicking jeongguk’s techniques and the bottle points at yoongi. all of a sudden, a strangled silence settles in.

the elder man makes an impressed nod –probably surprised at how things turned out.

“okay, tae, you spin the bottle and if falls on me or ___, you can join us and if it falls on jimin or yoongi, you can join them.” jeongguk says as if he’s done this plenty of times before.

you attempt to pick up your shirt when jeongguk clicks his tongue and wiggles his index finger in the air, “nu-uh, the game’s still going on, you put on any of the clothes you’re not supposed to have on, and you’re out.”

“that’s a dumb rule and i’m cold.” you roll your eyes and slip on your shirt anyway.

your nipples appear more protruded underneath that thin layer of material but it’s better than having to cover them with your arm.

jeongguk groans but doesn’t say anythng else as taehyung picks up the bottle and spins it.

in the end, you have a pair and a trio.

since taehyung is right next to you, crash your onto with his. it takes him a moment to register that the seven minutes start now before he swipes his tongue over your lower lip and you let him in, tasting the bitter beer in his mouth while he suckles on your tongue.

you expect taehyung to play along for the first few minutes and let jeongguk and you have a go at it. but the proactive advancements aren’t unwelcomed.

“hey! come on!” jeongguk whines somewhere in a distance –he’s sat across from you.

it doesn’t take long to make his way over and starts kissing your shoulder, sitting on the vacant end of the log. it’s the hand that snakes under your shirt and gropes your breast that makes you moan into taehyung’s mouth.

jeongguk pinches your nipple almost painfully, as if getting payback for starting without him.

when you don’t budge and wrap your arms around taehyung’s neck, he stops his assault on your sensitive buds and slips his hand under your panties. you gasp, body frozen from the unannounced intrusion and he takes that chance to turn your face to him, capturing your lips.

taehyung sighs softly, as if foreseeing that jeongguk would sweep you away from him. and you thought it the end of that.

but instead, you feel more slander fingers than jeongguk’s on your other breast that jeongguk didn’t touch. they’re gentle and handle you like you’re a delicate porcelain doll.

and like you said, taehyung’s touches aren’t unwelcomed.

that, paired with jeongguk’s careless fingers on your clit, easily makes you moan out in pleasure as sparks course through your veins, stars behind your eyes, your arm around jeongguk’s neck and your mouth tore away from his.

jeongguk lets out a low whistle as caresses your sensitive clit in a circular motion and stops when your hand grasps his wrist, telling him you need a break.

“wait, out here? dude, you can’t be serious,” taehyung lowly cautions as jeongguk shifts behind.

you barely get to focus your eyes after coming down from your high, noticing the two men making out behind taehyung where you last saw them. yoongi’s hand is in jimin’s pants.

“baby, can i put it in?” jeongguk’s voice is uncharacteristically silken and sweet.

it doesn’t take a genius why.

you throw a glance over your shoulder to see him pumping himself, his tip glistening with pre-cum.

“no, i want tae’s.” you say vindictively.

“what – “ the aforementioned man’s eyes widen, skin appearing olive gold next to the fire.

“may i, tae tae?” you smile, fluttering your lashes and smiling coquettishly as you caress him through his pants. just like jimin, he only lost his shirt in the earlier game.

his adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your offer but spreads his legs open as though welcoming your touch.

“i...” he says thickly, “i don’t have a condom on me...”

“it’s fine, i’m on birth control,” you shrug, lips still curled into a suave, inviting smile.

then his head shakes in the smallest nod.

“yeah?” you ask, head tilted ever so slightly to the side in an innocent gesture.

“yeah,” he echoes your words, eyes screwing shut, “please.”

it takes you close to no difficulty to take him out. you ravel in his size –he’s possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. taking him in your mouth, you let jeongguk pull you panties to the side and slip his tip past your entrance. he groans, appreciating your warmth while you coat taehyung’s length with your saliva.

once you’re sure taehyung’s all ready to take you, you lift yourself up, earning a whine from jeongguk whose closed eyes shoot open as if he just woke up from a  delightful dream and crashed into reality. you lower yourself onto taehyung, humming in appreciation like jeongguk did as the taller man stretches you out to fit his size.

once you’re sat on his lap and taking him to the hilt, only then do you pay attention to jeongguk who’s directing your hand to wrap around his length.

you start to move your hips, appreciating each delicious graze of taehyung’s length stretching and molding you to fit his size while pumping jeongguk’s shaft and lowering your mouth to wrap around his tip.

“i’m close,” taehyung murmurs breathily, his hand ghosting over your hips as though barely fighting against his primal urges to grab your hips and move you to his desirred tempo.

“you can come inside,” you say, tearing your mouth away from jeongguk for the briefest moment to throw your head to meet taehyung’s hooded gaze.

“please, can i cum inside you too? after tae?” jeongguk asks, knowing full well that he’s walking on thin ice with you.

“no.” you deny curtly, making sure to shoot him a glare to emphasize your disapproval.

“fuck,” taehyung’s voice cuts through the night as he’s pushed to his limit. those large hands dig into your skin as he bounces your ass on his lap the way he wants it.

and you let him. moaning against jeongguk’s tip as your brain shortcircuits. you barely notice the way jeongguk’s thrusting his length down your throat –much deeper than you’d allow him, just because you’re not a fan of his arrogance but also can’t completely resist it.

once you and taehyung stop moving, jeongguk easily lifts you up from taehyung’s lap and place you down on his.

“jeongguk,” you say warning, not at all pleased that he handled you like a ragdoll but can’t help the way you tighten around him –he’s winning in girth compared to taehyung.

“don’t move –i promise i won’t come inside you, just please let me feel you around me,” jeongguk’s basically begging as he hugs you close to him  –it’s probably to get you to stop any inch of movement but your stomach is fluttering and your cheeks are immeasurably hot.

you bite your lower lip from moaning.

while he’s holding you so tight, your clit is rubbing against him and you’ve got the fattest dick inside you.

there’s no way you can sit still.

you move your hip in a circular motion, the groan coming from jeongguk’s lips being music to your ears.

“fine,” you push the mated hair from his face when he pulls away from your shoulder and looks at you in the eye, they appear to be twinkling in the flicker of the flames, “you can come inside.”

the last thread of his sanity seems to snap. he lays you down on your back and because the log isn’t long enough for that, you end up having your head laid on taehyung’s thigh, his just-cummed dick still out in the open. every time jeongguk thrusts inside you, you end up brushing against it.

taehyung, having lost his reserves about sex in public, smiles down at you and places a hand underneath your head to support you while his friend is thrusting in and out of you like a mad man who’s never tasted a woman in his entire life.

eventually, taehyung, the moans and the squelching sounds disappear into a blurred mess. you don’t know where you start and where jeongguk ends. 

when you come to, you’re staring at the starless night sky, breathing heaving into steady breaths as you feel satisfaction tingles in between your legs. a mixture of jeongguk and taehyung’s cums pour out of you and onto your stained panties. 

and in the peaceful cackles of the bon fire and the sound of waves crashing, a shadow blocks your view.

“uh, ___,” jimin says hesitantly.

“hm?��� you look up at the man with his length out –he’s probably the shortest compared to taehyung and jeongguk but his girth could give the latter a run for his money.

“we got turned on looking at you guys,” jimin stammers, cheeks flushed while yoongi stands next to him, stroking himself to the sight of your glistening and naked body.

“come here,” you giggle, pushing yourself up.

“let me,” taehyung whispers, sending shivers down your spine as he holds out his hand for you to use as a support.

you don’t realize how spent you are until you decide to stand up but almost go tumbling into the ground again a second later. you would’ve faceplanted into the sand if taehyung hadn’t caught you. he helps you to sit on his lap and holds both your legs up.

your panties are now discarded on the ground while sticky, white cum drips out of you freely and park jimin’s got a front row view of that.

you should be embarrassed but the last of your braincell’s got fucked out of you by jeongguk who’s now passed out on the sand, snoring away like he’s got no care in th world.

jimin’s face is beat red as he slips right inside you. it would’ve taken more teasing if you were to take him without jeongguk and taehyung’s jizz dripping out of you.

“you mind if i give you head instead?” you ask the elder man.

“not at all,” yoongi shrugs but that unbothered facade comes crumbling down like sand castle as soon as you wrap your lips around him, hand covering where your mouth can’t reach.

well, you can, but deepthroating’s jeongguk’s made you too tired to take another man deeper than you do now.

you sigh softly when jimin starts moving. he’s gentle with his strokes, as if making sure you’re gradually getting used to him. probably because he knows he’s thicker than the average men. and jimin being jimin, will probably make sure all his partners are comfortable (how ever comfortable you can be butt naked in the open and with sand sticking to your soles and exposed flesh.

but all that easily melts away as jimin hits that one spot that gets you throwing your head back on taehyung’s shoulder. even when he goes faster, he’s still attentive of your reactions and actions. 

you’re not sure how he can read you when it’s covered in yoongi’s cum. he’s the fastest to cum out of all the four boys. somewhere in your mind, you thank the universe for giving you a fast and easy blow.

when yoongi steps away, you shift your focus to jimin, “i’m coming,” you murmur.

it takes a few strokes more for  you come at the same time, jimin throwing his head back, barely moaning out. it’s as though his reservations still cling onto him and stops him from losing himself.

jimin pulls out with a sigh, legs barely able to stand so he tumbles back to one of those empty logs and zips himself up.

just when you’re about to pull your legs together, all of a sudden, conscious of how exposed and naked you are –taehyung’s hand stops you.

“taehyung...” you murmur, cheeks burning at the way you’re spread and bare with multiple men’s cum dripping down your ass.

but he doesn’t seem to mind as he slides his fingers down your stomach and slips two of them past your entrance, coating those slender digits with the cum inside you.

his motion starts picking up and until he’s thrusting his fingers inside you like he would his dick. you’re grasping his arm and biting your lips at the sudden yet different rush of pressure you’ve had up until now. with the pleasure jimin left you, it doesn’t take long for it to built up in the pit of your stomach and spreads through your body likes the waves against the shore.

the rest that follows is a blur. you remember foregoing your undergarments and slipping on your jeans and shirt before having taehyung sweep you off your feet and carry you to the car.

“t-tae! i can walk!” you try to protest but he simple chuckles.

“you can barely stand.”

you can only cast your eyes to his collarbones –anywhere besides his eyes as you recall the throbbing sensation between your legs.

jeongguk, having been kicked to wake by yoongi, scampers to stand up and follow the three of you. he falls a step behind and complains the whole way to the car, saying something about “can do that too”.

whatever that is.

when you reach your home, the lights in the living room are still on and you’re quite literally screwed.

“come on, i’ll help you to the porch,” jeongguk says ever so casually as he undes the safety belt.

yet something instinctual makes you hurl out words of rejection right there and there despite your brain telling you that you’ll barely make it three steps out of the door without crashing against the ground.

“no, i’m good.” you huff, swigging the car door open yet you hear another car door open and the sound of feet hurriedly shuffling over and in no time, jeongguk’s arm is around yours.

“i don’t need your help,” you hiss under your breath despite the relief that floods your system from jeongguk’s support.

“what are the chances of your parents letting you coming back past curfew slide because the face they saw walking you up to the porch is mine?” he makes a compelling argument.

before you can even refute, the front door swings open to your father’s glum expression. though his face lights up like christmas light as soon as he sees the man next to you.

“jeongguk! well, i’ll be damned,” your father beams, hands on his hips, “i didn’t know you two made up.”

“evening, mr. ___,” jeongguk nods in greeting, pretending not to hear the last part.

“thanks for walking me,” you say, strained.

gathering all that’s left of your might you take a step forward and out of his arm to stand next to your dad, waiting for him to leave.

“did someone say jeongguk?” your mother comes running from the couch, “oh, how’s your mother? is she well?”

“yeah. too well, actually. she’s been into yoga lately, keeps saying she’ll be able to beat me in arm wrestling,” jeongguk chuckles, scuffing his sole against the ground, hands buried inside his pocket.

“yeah, it’s getting late, don’t you think?” you cut in.

your parents seem to take the hint, your mother wishing him a one last, “tell minhee i said hi, yeah, son?”

“will do,” he smiles, eyes travelling to yours only to have him drop his gaze. “have a good evening mr. ___, mrs. ___.”

then he’s walking back to the car where you can see taehyung waving his hand from the passenger seat. only then, does an actual smile curve on your lips as you wave back, pretending not to notice the slouch in jeongguk’s figure.

x

that’s the last you talk to jeongguk privately. sometimes, when you’re texting in the group chat, you can’t help but reply to his dumb memes. yoongi and you exchange music in private message while you and jimin are ‘best friends’ on snapchat and you occasionally reply to taehyung’s insta story.

no one spoke of that night.

it’s as if it never happened.

the girls asked about it but you simply brush it off, “oh we had some drinks and decide to go home because it wasn’t fun with half of the squad not around.”

they don’t believe it.

but they don’t push it either.

but they probably thought you made a mistake and that mistake having something to do with your summer fling slash childhood friend, jeon jeongguk.

part of it was true.

except you fucked half of the boys in your group of friends.

it’s a month later, did you get a text from jeongguk on one ordinary friday night, after coming home from work. after going back to seoul.

jk: hey

jk: me and taehyung are going out for a drink

jk: since we live ten minutes away do you wanna come?

[sacredsorceress]

You? || Peter Parker

pairing: peter parker x telekinetic!reader

summary: peter parker has a crush on you. you have a crush on spider-man. what happens when you learn each other’s true identities?

word count: 2.6k

warnings: mentions of getting shot, blood, fluff

masterlist || request

You stood on the rooftop of the building at the corner of the intersection, watching as a mother and her two young children used the ATM across the street. Despite the fact that there were plenty of lampposts scattered along the road, only the dim light that hung above the ATM was what stood between the small family and complete darkness. With the sun having set over an hour ago, a breeze swept through the dark night and a chill ran through your body as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself.

A few months ago you had discovered that you had the ability to move things without ever touching them. The first time you had, you thought it was a coincidence. You were standing on a street corner, waiting for the light to turn red so you could cross the street when you looked up and saw a small toddler rush out of their mother’s arms and into oncoming traffic. Without even thinking about it, you threw your arms forward and the child was thrown back into the safety of their mother’s arms and the car that was inches away from colliding him, halted right in its place without the driver ever hitting the brakes.

You had been so shocked that you immediately rushed home, locking yourself in your room. You confirmed your suspicions later that night as objects flew around your room without you ever having lifted a finger.

You never told anyone else about it, afraid of how people would perceive you or even use you, but you also knew that since you were given this power, you were meant to use it to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves the same way.

What you didn’t know was that none other than the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was doing the same with his own abilities, crouched on the rooftop of the building across from yours, looking out for the same family.

You heard two men’s voices shout from below, causing you to snap out of your own thoughts. When you looked back down below you watched as one of the men pulled a gun on the mother who was using the ATM while the other man stood by his side. Before you could even do anything, however, you watched as  none other than Spider-Man himself swung into the situation.

“Hey guys!” He announced. “Nice try, but I think you need a card to use this machine. So, I’ll be taking that.”

You watched- still standing above- as he shot the man’s wrist, causing him to drop the gun, and kicked the other guy to the ground. With a swift punch to the first man’s face, he was knocked cold and Spider-Man turned back to the family.

What you could see that none of there other’s below could, was that when Spider-Man turned his back, you watched as the second man, still conscious, picked up the loose gun from the ground and shakily pointed it at Spider-Man. As his finger inched closer to the trigger, you shouted.

“No!” You quickly swung your right hand causing the gun to be torn from the man’s hands and to the sidewalk across from where he sat at the intersection. At the sound of the commotion, Spider-Man spun around, watching as your figure levitated down from the roof above.

“Woah.” 

As your feet landed on the ground below and the man who had just held a gun in his hand scrambled to his feet, you lifted your hand up in the air, throwing him against the nearby brick wall, knocking him out instantly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come down sooner.” You told him, turning to face the masked Spider-Man.

Shocked and frankly impressed by what he had just watched occur in front of his own eyes, he began stumbling over his words.

“What the... did you just... wait a minute.” He attempted to compose himself, flustered. “D-did you just move that guy with your mind?”

That was the first time the two of you had met- at least as your super-hero aliases. Despite the fact that you and Spider-Man would patrol nearly every night together and became a local crime-fighting duo, the two of you never shared your real names with each other, wanting to conceal your identities.

Little did the two of you know that you also knew each other in “real life” as classmates. Although you and Peter Parker spent time in different circles, you shared a lot of the same classes and would often chat with one another. What you also didn’t know was that Peter had an enormous crush on you, waiting eagerly for that same class every day just for the chance to speak to you. However, you were oblivious because you only had eyes for the boy you spent every night with- Spider-Man.

It was a tricky situation to say the least.

That was how the two of you lasted for months. You had an undying crush on Spider-Man, barely giving Peter a second thought and Peter had the strongest feelings for you, not caring less about the super-powered girl he spent every night with.

Neither of you understood why the other seemed to not care about you when in actuality you did have feelings for each other- just a a different version neither of you were aware of.

The night that you finally uncovered the truth you were both distracted. The Homecoming dance was that upcoming Friday and Peter was determined, yet terrified to ask you to go with him. When you asked “Spidey” what he was so anxious about and he confessed that he had been practically in love with this girl for a while and he was planning on asking her out, your heart shattered. You were right there waiting for him, why would he need anyone else?

You should have been paying attention. You shouldn’t have let your feelings for the famous Spider-Man get in the way of the middle of you patrolling, but you couldn’t help it.

It happened too fast for you to catch it.

The two of you were sat on the ledge of a rooftop of the bank building, watching the sidewalk below. You and Peter had just watched a group of what you thought to be suspicious looking men enter the building. Not wanting to start a commotion and get yourselves in trouble, you planned on waiting to interrogate these men until they were once again outside the building. No sirens rung from the bank and the door remained closed. You didn’t think anything of it. Both of you were so in your own heads about your feelings, that you didn’t notice the man who had walked out the door to the roof you and Peter were sitting on until you heard the gunshot ring in your ears.

As soon as you spun around to see the man, though, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Peter fell with a loud yelp and hit the ground. In an instant, you swung your arm out, catching the perpetrator and threw him against the door he had just walked through, knocking him unconscious.

As soon as you watched the man sink against the door, you dropped to your knees at Peter’s side. He was grasping a wound at his side and you could see the blood slipping through his fingers.

“Shit, Spidey, we have to get you to a hospital.” You told him, trying to move his hands to get a closer look at his wound.

He adamantly shook his head.

“It’s okay.” He told you. “The bullet came out the other side I think. It’s gonna be okay. It just hurts... a lot.”

Seeing him in pain, groaning and holding on to his side nearly made you sick. You hated seeing him hurt.

“Is there anything I can do?” You asked him, wringing your hands.

Peter grunted, throwing his head back, but still managing to nod his head.

“Can you...” He groaned from the sharp pain at his side. “Can you take off my mask? I can’t breathe in this thing.”

Your eyes went wide in shock as you looked at the boy in pain before you. The two of you had never seen each other without a mask- you didn’t even know each other’s real names. You were almost afraid to take off the mask, knowing it would change everything- although not in the way you initially thought. You knew you would continue to love him regardless of who he was without his mask, because it wasn’t the mask or the super powers or anything like that that mattered to you- it was him.

“Are you... are you sure?” You asked him, wanting to be sure he wouldn’t regret his decision.

He nodded again, groaning in pain. “I- I trust you.”

He lifted his head for you to take off his mask. You shakily moved your hands to the end of his mask, gently brushing your fingers against his skin underneath. You turned your face away, still worried to meet the boy who hid behind the suit. Slowly but surely, you tugged at the material and when you finally tore the mask off of his face and held it in your lap you turned to face him.

You immediately recognized him, dropping his mask at your side and throwing your hands up to your mouth in shock.

His face twisted into a cringe. “Do I look that bad?”

You shook your head, taking in his appearance. Spider-Man- Spidey- was Peter Parker. Your classmate Peter Parker who was always tripping over his own shoelaces, whispering to his friend Ned in class about the Lego Death Star they were planning on finishing that night and the same Peter who was always so kind to you in class, helping you with your work. You could hardly believe that the same Peter Parker was fighting crime beside you every night.

You were in love with Peter Parker.

“Peter?”

Peter sat up straighter at the sound of his name. He was confused as to how you knew his name, the two of you never sharing that detail about yourselves with each other.

“How- how do you know my name?” He asked, still holding the wound at his side.

“Peter I-”

You didn’t know how to explain to him how you recognized him. You were still in so much shock that you couldn’t find the right words to tell him.

Instead, you slipped your fingers under your own mask, pulling it up and over your face.

You watched as Peter’s eyes now shot open wide, his face going pale.

“Y/n?” He asked before quickly shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Maybe... maybe I should go to the hospital. I have to be losing a lot of blood if I think you’re Y/n.”

You smiled, placing your hand gently on his arm.

“Peter, it’s me.” You assured him. “It’s Y/n. You’re not going crazy or anything, I promise.” You paused, laughing. “This is crazy.”

Peter didn’t know what to do with himself when it finally clicked in his brain that you- the girl he had been crushing on for the past year- were the same person he had been patrolling with every night. He had been so shy, working up the courage to speak to you every day at school and the whole time he was spending every night fighting by your side.

“Y-yeah.” He chuckled. “I guess it is.”

You clicked your tongue, not knowing what to say next.

“So....” You said. “Who’s that girl you were talking about?”

Peter laughed nervously, removing his hands from his side that had now stopped bleeding. He didn’t know what to say to you. If you had asked that question before you removed your mask he would’ve told you in a heartbeat because he trusted you more than just about anyone. Now, he didn’t know what to do.

Even though he had just been bleeding out in front of you minutes before, he was terrified to admit his crush on you.

“Uh...” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh no. It’s okay!” You butt in, realizing the awkward predicament you put him in. “You don’t have to answer...”

“No, it’s okay!”

“No, no really. I shouldn’t have asked. I made it weird-”

“Y/n, really it’s okay!”

“Peter, really, I’m sorry. You don’t have to-”

“It’s you, Y/n!” He finally confessed, cutting you off. “You’re... you’re the one I wanted to ask to the dance.”

The sound of his shouting forced you to stop talking and instead look at him. Peter had a crush on you?

Before you could even help yourself, you started laughing.

Although you couldn’t tell under the dark night sky, Peter’s face flushed red, embarrassed, figuring you were laughing at him.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s stupid.” He mumbled to you sheepishly, unable to meet your eyes. “You don’t have to go with me or anything...”

Composing yourself from your laughter, you shook your head, grabbing Peter’s bloodied hand. You glanced up towards him smiling.

“No, Peter, I didn’t mean it like that.” You said. “It’s just- I had the biggest crush on Spider-Man. I’ve liked you too this whole time and I didn’t even know it. You have to admit- it’s kind of funny.”

Realizing that you weren’t laughing at him, Peter finally met your eyes, shooting you a smile right back. Then it hit him- you liked him too. Even though you admittedly had a crush on Spider-Man, you liked him. You didn’t like him for the mask he wore on his face, but for the person he was underneath the mask... it just took a while for you to figure out who.

“You like me?” He asked you.

“Yeah! I mean-” You cleared your throat. “I liked Spider-Man, but you’re Spider-Man. Ironically, I guess, I just got to know you better hanging out every night than I did at school, but don’t worry, Peter. I like you- with or without the mask.”

Both of you gazed at each other, smiling, content with finally knowing the face behind the mask. Just as you were about to lean in closer to Peter, you heard a shuffling sound behind you.

The two of you had been so caught up in your own revelations, you nearly forgot about what the two of you were doing in this position in the first place.

Both of you turned to follow the cause of the noise, noticing the man you had knocked out minutes before, drowsily waking up. At once, both you and Peter raised your hand. You picked up the man and held him high against the wall and Peter immediately shot a web at him, holding him against it. The plastic bag holding stolen cash fell from his grasp onto the ground.

You smiled, handing Peter back his mask.

“Felling better, Spidey?” You asked him, slipping your own mask over your head again.

When Peter’s mask was securely covering his face, he pulled himself up from his spot on the floor, chuckling.

“I am now! What about you?”

You laughed, strolling towards the unnamed man to admire you and Peter’s handy work.

“Oh, I’m feeling miraculous, trust me.”

Peter strolled past you, picking up the bag of cash from the ground. Once in his hands, he stood by your side again, watching the bank robber struggle underneath the webs.

“We make a pretty good team, huh?”

You smiled, wrapping your arm around Peter’s waist and resting your head on his shoulder.

“We do.”

Before Peter could say another world, you stole the bag of cash from his hands and swung open the door, leading to the staircase down to the bank. The sound of police sirens grew louder as the cruisers rushed down the street.

You waved the bag in your hands, teasing Peter.

“Last one to get this guy arrested has to pay for Homecoming tickets!”

As soon as you finished your sentence, you rushed down the stairs, the door still swinging behind you.

“Hey! No fair!”

[emilia3546]

Snowball Fight - Gwynriel

The snowball fight has always been the way to win bragging rights for the year, but this year Azriel has a hidden ace, from an innocent suggestion that they all team up with their wives.

*****

Gwyn snorted with laughter at Cassian's shout of outrage when a snowball hit him straight in the face. She ducked down behind the wall or hard snow she'd built up earlier, waiting for Azriel to draw attention away. She crawled back to the middle of their snow fort, rolling a new load of snowballs, and left a pile waiting for Azriel to keep Cassian and Nesta's attention on him. Rhys and Feyre were too distracted trying to take advantage of Cassian's distraction to notice when she slipped away, climbing a tree to get a better vantage point.

Azriel still had plenty of ammunition, never popping up long enough for anyone to hit him, but just enough to pelt Cassian with a couple of snowballs before hiding again. Feyre was busy making snowballs, occasionally standing up to throw one, usually right after Rhys took one to the face, but she seemed more than happy to let him take the hits. Still, she was exchanging snowballs with Nesta quite regularly, and squawked in outrage when a snowball exploded on her shoulder, sending snow flying everywhere. Gwyn stifled a giggle at the snowball exploding on the side of Rhys' head when he turned to see what had happened. Cassian laughed, but then cursed when Azriel's snowball hit him in the back of the head. Gwyn silently moved across to the next tree, chuckling to herself when Nesta retaliated, sending Azriel diving for cover under the barrage of snow.

She glanced around the trees, there, just a few trees away, she should be sheltered enough to be hidden if anyone looked up, which the probably wouldn't, not with Azriel drawing attention. She leaped across the gap, holding her breath for a moment when her foot slipped, sending snow falling, but no-one seemed to notice. She waved a hand at Azriel, still hiding behind cover, but she hadn't missed the shadow that had crept up to check on her after she'd slipped. She pointed back at Feyre, moving across in her snow fort to try and attack from another angle. He raised an eyebrow but did pivot to dodge her attack, sending snowballs after her in quick succession until she squealed, running back to cover, shaking snow out of her hair and using Rhys as a living shield to focus her attacks back on Cassian and Nesta.

Gwyn lost sight of Nesta as she counted the snowballs Azriel had planted up the tree earlier, hiding them in a hollow in the tree, and another on the other side, lower down, she'd use those as a last resort.

"How's it feel to be losing again, Cass?" Gwyn picked up her first snowball, waiting for Azriel's signal that he was ready,

"Losing? We're not losing, even with you lot all targeting us," Cassian probably would have kept talking if he hadn't had to duck a snowball. Rhys whispered something to Feyre where they were hiding behind their snow fort, and she giggled, nodding. Gwyn kept her focus on them as Rhys rolled several snowballs together, and Feyre held a hand out, melding them all into one giant snowball. She giggled again as it lifted on its own, hurling over and almost knocking Cassian over as it slammed into him. He yelped as he stumbled, and Gwyn reached out a hand for the shadow that was still following her,

"Tell Az that Feyre and Rhys are cheating," she whispered, meeting Azriel's eyes a moment later, he nodded, and she tossed her snowball in her hand, waiting for her chance. Azriel stood up, exposing himself and everyone's attention snapped towards him, giving her a chance to throw a snowball, right so that it exploded, snow slipping down the back of Cassian's neck, leaving him too distracted to shield Nesta from the same treatment as he tried to get the snow out. Gwyn didn't need to maintain her attack, with Rhys and Feyre pressing their advantage and pelting them both with snowballs until Nesta sneezed and Cassian held up a hand to stop the assault.

"Are you cold?" Nesta shook her head, but even Gwyn could see that she was shivering through her thick coat over her leathers, "Okay, we're out," Cassian announced, "Inside, c'mon, warm,"

"No, I wanna win," Nesta complained, "You go if you're cold,"

"Nes, you're shivering, and you're ice-cold," she stared him down, and he sighed, sweeping her up, one arm under her knees, the other around her back. Cassian ignored her complaints as he carried her into the cabin,

"Put me down!" She squealed, "I want to win! Put me down, you brute!" Cassian ignored her, just kissing her cheek, and she stopped wriggling, realizing that she couldn't get out of his hold, finally letting him carry her inside.

Once Cassian and Nesta were back inside, the fight was back on, Azriel kept Rhys' head down with a constant stream of snowballs, and Gwyn kept targeting Feyre where he was replenishing their supply of snowballs. She yelped when a bit of snow got into her coat,

"I thought they were on your side!" She complained, "Are they both there?"

"Az is, I can't see Gwyn, but she must be hiding,"

"She's attacking me from somewhere, I can't see her," Gwyn grinned, and aimed a snowball for Rhys' face when he turned around to look, but he did then look up, grinning when he saw her. She kept her eyes on the snowball he was tossing up and down, and glanced along the branch, there was snow all along it. She settled into a fork in the wood, and kicked the branch, hard. Nothing, she tried again, and giggled in delight when a load of snow fell out of the tree, right onto Rhys' head, and she followed up with the rest of her snowballs, signalling for Azriel to do the same until he held up a hand,

"Okay!" He yelped, glaring at Azriel when he couldn't resist one more snowball, striking his brother right on the backside, "We give up,"

"Rhys!" Feyre complained, but Rhys just shrugged,

"They weren't bullying you, darling, I'll make it up to you later," Feyre leaned towards him to say something, throwing her arms around his neck,

"You're cold," she observed, "No," she yelped when he tossed his remaining snowball at her, "Get away! No, no, Rhys!" She squealed when he chased her down, tackling her into a snowdrift, leaving her shaking snow out of her hair, "Prick," she hissed, shoving him aside to make her own way inside, but didn't complain when he wrapped an arm around her.

Gwyn dropped out of the tree and bounced over to where Azriel was emerging from their snow fort, giggling with glee,

"We won!" She leaped into his arms, laughing when he couldn't help but laugh at her excitement, kissing the sound away when she giggled again.

"My devious little Valkyrie," he murmured, and Gwyn wriggled out of his arms,

"Little!" It didn't matter that he was almost a foot taller than her, she raised herself onto her tiptoes, and smashed her last snowball in his face, running away afterwards, rolling forwards to avoid his counter-attack. She sprinted for the safety of the cabin, but he reached her just as she opened the door, an arm around her waist, pulling her back out and flipping her over in the snow.

"I win."

"What gave you that impression? Perhaps this was my plan all along,"

"To get pinned?"

"To get underneath my husband," she whispered, just loud enough for Azriel to hear and no-one else, but he snorted with laughter, and she took his moment of distraction to surge upwards, grabbing both of wrists and pinning him to the floor as she sat down onto his hips, "Now who wins?" She demanded, dancing away before he could push her off, grinning over her shoulder as she darted inside, "I'm safe!" she yelped when he chased after her, throwing her over one shoulder, "Az!" She squealed, "You're cheating!" She yelped and grabbed onto him when he spun round in a circle, fat enough that she squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring the laughs from the rest of their family until he finally put her down. "Asshole!" She hissed, but held on to his arm as the room kept sway until she'd cleared her head, "That's it, I'm moving in with Nesta, you're demoted," she giggled when Azriel feigned horror, and kissed him quickly again, "Maybe you're forgiven,"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe if you go and get a warm bath ready," she laughed as Azriel's shadows immediately skittered off, and sank onto the couch beside Nesta, "Are you alright?" Nesta held up her mug of cocoa as a response,

"We'll get you next year," she promised.

[heroloverangel]

Cloud City

We interrupt your regularly-scheduled filth for some surprise Sad Boy Hours.

You’re six years old when Oboro Shirakumo drops into your life. Quite literally, in fact.

It’s your first day of school, and you’re terrified. Your family only moved to this city a few weeks ago, and you haven’t had a chance to meet any of the other kids in the neighborhood. So here you stand in the school yard, shyly watching from behind a tree as your new classmates play together. You’re lonely, but too nervous to approach them. Your tiny mind is on the verge of a breakdown and you can feel the sting of tears in your eyes. “Don’t cry,” you whisper to yourself. “I’m not a baby, don’t cry.” You sniffle, but your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of a twig snapping above you.

There’s a boy floating on a cloud several feet over your head, one hand grasping a branch to keep himself steady. “Hi!” He grins down at you, and you look back with wide eyes. “I’m Oboro! Wanna be friends?” You gawk up at him; you’ve never seen a quirk like that before. Even his hair looks like a fluffy cloud in the breeze. 

“Okay,” you agree after a few more seconds of confused staring. Your new friend gives you a thumbs up, immediately loses his focus, and the cloud dissipates underneath him. Both of you scream as he comes crashing to the ground, landing on your back. You’re rewarded with some impressive scrapes to both your knees, and him with both his front teeth knocked out. You’re inseparable from that moment on.

You’re the best of friends through elementary, but things begin to change once you hit middle school. It’s cute when you’re six and happily tell your parents that you’re going to get married when you grow up. It’s just awkward when you hit puberty and start to discover that your feelings for your best friend suddenly aren’t so cute anymore. The two of you grow apart with separate friends and different interests, but still make it a priority to walk home together every day. 

“High school admissions are due soon,” he points out during one of these walks. It’s been storming all day, and the two of you huddle under the same umbrella in a half-hearted attempt to stay dry. He’s hit a growth spurt over the years and towers above you now; it’s hard for both of you to stay out of the rain if you’re not nestled suspiciously close together. “You figure out where you’re applying yet?”

You shrug, stepping wide to avoid a puddle that he ignores. “Probably just Endor. It’s close, and they’ve got a pretty decent reputation.” You nudge him with your shoulder. “You’re going for UA, right?”

It’s never been a secret that Shirakumo wants to be a hero, and there’s no doubt in your mind that he’ll be great at it. He stops walking and you look at him, surprised to see his expression so discouraged.. “Yeah, of course. You’re not? Their general studies class is supposed to be one of the best, too.”

You glance away. “Too much pressure, I think. And it’d be hard, going to school in a different city where I wouldn’t know anyone.”

“You’ll know me.” You’ve both had a grip on the umbrella, but now his fingers wrap tightly around your hand and squeeze.

“Oboro…” You’re not used to him having such a serious look on his face, his eyes wide and unblinking as they stare into yours.

“Come with me.” It’s not an order, it’s a plea, and your chest feels tight at the thought of disappointing him. You swallow hard and nod. It won’t hurt to apply, you think. You probably won’t even get in.

Shirakumo pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face and leans down to press his lips against yours. Your first kiss isn’t perfect; his neck is bent at an uncomfortable angle to make up for your height difference, your nose bumps awkwardly into his as you shift, a car drives by too fast and splashes both of you with frigid water. Still, when he pulls away his smile is as warm and bright as the sun. You’ll gladly follow him to UA. You’ll gladly follow him to hell and back if it makes him happy.

He’s accepted into the hero course without a problem, but you make him promise that he’ll go even if you fail. You’re more shocked than anyone when you open the envelope to find an acceptance letter welcoming you to UA, and you finally allow yourself to feel excited. You’ll be going to the best school in the country, and you’ll be there with your favorite person in the world. For the first time you won’t be in the same class, but you’ll still be close enough to watch him reach his dreams. 

The first few weeks of high school are a whirlwind of chaos before you settle into a routine. You have to be at the train station before dawn; every morning Shirakumo meets you outside your house, still half-asleep and groggy as you walk. You split something simple for breakfast most days while you ride. When you’re lucky enough to find two open seats together, you can manage a well-deserved nap slumped against each other’s shoulders. Your classes are tough but with enough effort you manage to do well once you form a study group going with the other girls in your class. They’re friendly, and they’re both impressed and jealous to learn that you’re already dating a hero student. They swoon when he appears at your side on the first day of school to buy you lunch, and you can’t help but gloat just a little at your good fortune.

The hero course is even busier than general studies, and you don’t get to see much of your boyfriend during school hours. It’s nearly a month into the term before he catches sight of you at lunch again and practically sprints over, flanked by two classmates you recognize from the stories he’s told you on the ride home every day. “Guys,” he grins and throws an arm around your shoulder. “This is my girl! The one I’ve been telling you about.” Your heart skips a beat at being called his girl, and knowing he’s been gushing about you to his friends. Yamada’s a bright, loud ball of energy when he introduces himself, while Aizawa barely mumbles his name and looks like he’s been dragged over against his will. They both seem nice, and you’re happy he’s found some good friends to work with.

Everything goes surprisingly well for your first year at UA, and your second seems like it’ll be just as good. It’s late one night, several months into the school year, when you’re woken by a tapping at your bedroom window. This isn’t the first time Shirakumo’s snuck you out of your house, but the window gets harder to crawl out of every year and you’re glad that graduation isn’t too far off. “Hey, come look at the stars with me. They’re really pretty tonight.” It’s not like he needs to give you the excuse, but you can see he has a point.

Ten minutes later you’re laying on a cloud together, floating a few feet over the power lines in your neighborhood. It’s cold up there, and you cuddle together for warmth as you watch the stars overhead. You know more about the sky than him, and he’s happy to listen while you point out a few things above you. A chilly breeze blows through your thin pajamas and makes you shiver, and he pulls you in closer to share his heat. “Was all of this just an excuse to get me alone up here?” You laugh, kissing his smiling lips.

“Not all of it,” he jokes with a smirk. “We’re past the halfway point this year already. Just one more, can you believe it?” You curl up close and listen to him chatter about his big plans for the future. You’ve heard this all before; he’s always so excited about the idea of opening that hero agency with Aizawa and Yamada. “I figure we’ll do the sidekick think for awhile, work up some solid experience, y’know? Then it’ll be smooth sailing when we break off on our own after that. Four, maybe five years?” You nod, running your fingers through his familiar fluffy hair. “And then once things settle with the agency, we can get married if you want,” he announces with only the faintest blush betraying his nerves.

“Oboro, what?” You bolt into a sitting position, gawking at him with wide eyes. Sure you’ve thought about the future you might have together, but the two of you have never talked about it before. “You can’t just spring that on me out of nowhere!”

He folds his arms behind his head, totally unconcerned. “It’s not really out of nowhere, is it? You know I’ve been in love with you since we were six, right?”

This boy is ridiculous. “Me too, but still! Isn’t this a little sudden? There’s so much more to talk about if you want to get married.”

He shrugs. “Like I said, it won’t be for a couple of years. We’ve got plenty of time to talk it over.” He grabs your hand and pulls you back down to rest your head against his chest. “I’ll wait for you, as long as you want.” You stay like this for a few minutes, mulling the proposal over in your head. “Just think about it for a couple years, okay?”

Slowly, you nod. “Okay.” You’re already warming up to the thought of marrying him. You’re seventeen, and you’ve been together for eleven years now. You can give him another five. Or ten. Or fifty, if that’s what he wants. In your heart you already know you’ve decided on an answer, and you murmur it into his ear later as he’s helping you climb back through the window into your bedroom. He’s beaming with happiness as he kisses you goodnight and flies off. You’re too giddy with love to sleep the rest of the night.

If you’d known what was coming only a week later, you never would have said goodbye. He promised to call you after his internship the night before, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d fallen asleep instead as soon as he got home. You’re not worried until he doesn’t show up in the morning to walk with you, even after you call him twice with no answer and wait until the last possible minute to leave on your own. You arrive at school just as the final bell rings, and it’s a bit of a relief when you catch a glimpse of Aizawa looking even more tired than he normally does. They must have had a really tough time on their patrol, you assume, and Oboro just decided to take a well-deserved day off.

Your day is uneventful until lunch, when you hear your name called to the office. The principal sits there with your homeroom teacher and the counselor, all of them looking grim. A lump forms in your throat; you’ve got no idea what you could have done. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. We understand that you’re particularly close with Oboro Shirakumo from the hero class.”

You nod. “Yeah, we’re dating. Um, actually we’re kind of engaged now, I guess?” Your stomach drops at the sad expressions facing you. “Did...did something happen? I haven’t seen him all day. Is he hurt?”

Nothing in the world could have prepared you for the answer. “He was killed in an encounter with a villain yesterday. I’m sorry for your loss.”

You want to argue, insist there’s been some mistake, but the words don’t come. A sudden sense of numbness sweeps through you as it sinks in, and it feels like everything within you shuts down. Your brain doesn’t process the voices offering you sympathy and compassion. Your lungs refuse to take in air. You’d swear that your heart itself stops beating in some attempt to defend itself. You’re not even aware of your movements as you stand and leave the room while your teachers are mid-speech. You need to get out of there. You need to be alone. You need to breathe, but you can’t. You’re on autopilot as you rush down the empty hall, if you can get up to the roof there’ll be fresh air-

Completely blinded by your grief, you collide hard with another body and almost fall before hands grab your shoulders to steady you. “Sorry,” you gasp through the lump in your throat. “I just-” You blink back your tears and stop when you recognize him. Up close, he looks even worse than usual. His eyes are red and hollow, the dark bags under them could pass as bruises. It’s obvious he hasn’t slept all night, you can practically feel the exhaustion radiating off of him. “Aizawa,” you croak, your voice cracking on the syllables. He doesn’t say anything, only gives your shoulder a squeeze, and something inside you completely breaks.

“Oboro, he’s...” is all you can manage through your tears. You fists ball into Aizawa’s jacket as you sob against his chest, and he doesn’t stop you. He knows there’s no comforting you; the only thing he can do is let you use his shirt as a tissue while you mourn. You’re vaguely aware that a bell rings to resume class, but you ignore it. You can’t bring yourself to do anything except cry until there’s nothing left, and he stands there holding your shoulders to keep you upright. It’s the best way anyone can help you right now.

An eternity later, you wear yourself out. Your throat feels raw, your eyes are burning, and your fingers hurt from the grip you’ve had on his uniform. “Thanks,” you manage out, and he nods silently. He’s not the most exciting, but you’ve always liked Aizawa’s calm personality as a match to your boyfriend’s unstoppable energy. Your own emotions are a train wreck, and you don’t think you could handle being around anyone else after that news. “I’m glad he had you,” you muse out loud.

“Thanks,” he says awkwardly with a shrug before fixing his wrinkled jacket. “You should get back to class.” Aizawa walks off before you can think of anything else to say.

You don’t go back to class. The other students have noticed something’s off, and rumors are beginning to spread around campus already that there’s a new, empty space in the hero course. You grab your bag and head for the exit as fast as you can, ignoring everyone else along the way. You spend the rest of the week at home; your parents allow it once they learn what happened. It’s a struggle to get through the first month without Shirakumo’s presence hanging over you like a cheerful little cloud, and the rest of the year doesn’t get any easier. Your friends do their best to console you, but it’s a losing battle when you feel his absence every minute of your day. It’s all too familiar, too easy to see the missing piece that’s been a part of your life for so long. You transfer to Shiketsu for your final year, where no one knows about Loud Cloud and you aren’t stuck going through a routine that’s been irreparably broken.

It’s an uphill fight. You force yourself to do well in school, because it’s what he’d want for you. You throw yourself into work and establish a good career, because it’s what he’d want for you. You make yourself move past your loss and date other men, because it’s what he’d want for you. By the time you’re 31 you’ve got a divorce under your belt, a sad excuse for a social life, and a cat with fluffy white fur; you loved him the moment you laid eyes on him. You’re not entirely satisfied with how your life has turned out, but it could be worse. You can go entire weeks now without thinking about him. Sometimes you wonder what kind of life the two of you would have, but you try not to dwell on those thoughts. 

You’ve had the day off and have spent it happily lounging around the house. You treat yourself to lunch and settle on your couch to watch a movie with your beloved cat when an unfamiliar number pops up on your phone. You answer without a second thought. “Hi, if you’re out of noodles, I can just get rice instead. It’s fine.”

There’s a beat of silence before the man confirms this is the correct number. You don’t immediately recognize his voice, but you’re sure you’ve heard it somewhere before. “I’m not with a restaurant. This is Aizawa, from...from UA, when we were younger.” You can tell he’s choosing his words carefully, and he continues. “We need to talk. It’s about Shirakumo.”

It’s surprising how hearing his name is enough to reopen wounds you thought healed years ago. You swallow nervously, fresh dread pooling in your gut. You can hear how hoarse your voice is when you answer. “Okay. I’m off today, if you want to meet.”

You’ve got a very bad feeling about what you’re about to learn.