#in which i respond to your inquiries

[puella-peanut]

The ballsd of what? I know Hunger Games movies but wtf? Is this prequel or sequel?

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is the prequel to The Hunger Games Trilogy.

It focuses on 18 year old Coriolanus Snow as he becomes a mentor to Lucy Gray Baird in the 10th Hunger Games. It builds on the lore of the world, the series—while also being a fantastic character study, as well as a deep and intimate look at what people become in situations either of their making, or beyond their control. Either involuntarily…or voluntarily.

I highly recommend reading it, because it shows you how this 18 year old boy will eventually become the mass murdering presidential dictator of the original series. It’s a very dark, political, philosophical, and yes—romantic take on your traditional coming-of-age tale. Besides, reading it, and then going back to the original trilogy answers several formerly unanswered questions—some of which are absolutely mind blowing and shocking. Not to mention the entire third part of the book goes entirely off the fucking rails…

“A tendency toward obsession was hardwired into his brain and would likely be his undoing if he couldn’t learn to outsmart it.”—Coriolanus Snow

Read it, avoid spoilers at all cost, and let it sink into your skin with all the bite and venom of poisonous fangs.

Highly recommend! :D

[nagaytoe]

Periculum

Solivan Brugmansia X Reader

TW: implied drugging, manipulation

Word count: 1.4k

I can't be the only one wondering how on earth Sol is gonna explain himself on day 3 after the 8-point-required ending, that's why i decided what i think might happen!

BY THE WAY: i take request, so if anyone is interested, feel free to ask me :3

SPOILERS FOR TKATB DAY 1+2 REVAMPED

Periculum

(Noun) [Latin] Danger

Warm rays of sunlight graze your face as you slowly wake up, laying on your side.

What time is it? Why didn't your alarm go off?

You try to reach over to your bedside table but notice arms wrapped around your waist and someone spooning you, their chest pressed to your back snugly enough that you can faintly feel their heartbeat.

What the hell?

You feel panic rising up, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. The arms only tighten around you as soon as you try to break free from the grasp you currently find yourself in. Looking over your shoulder, you see none other than Sol, causing the feeling of panic to subside but one of confusion to settle in.

You sure as hell weren't cuddling yesterday evening. Wait, what happened yesterday evening anyways? You can't seem to recall, but you're pretty sure that you didn't go to bed with Sol.

In an attempt to wake him, you call out his name, but to no avail. You shake his arms that are still snaked around you, calling out to him yet again.

Sol's eyes flutter open and he looks at you with an adorning look in his eyes and a smile gracing his handsome face.

“Hey… good morning, [____]”

“Good…morning?” You ponder for a moment, before speaking up again.

“Sol, i really think we should get going, we still have classes today-”

His grip tightens at your inquiry, “Don't worry about it. You're probably still shaken up from what happened back at the arcade, right? Perhaps we should skip, how does that sound?”

He seems to snuggle even closer, signalizing that he would most likely not accept any answer other than accepting his request.

“Sol..” you sigh, aware that it wasn't a good idea. You need your studies, how else are you going to help your father? Even though, Sol might be right about one thing: You really are exhausted, but are yesterday's events at the arcade really the cause for that?

“We already skipped the last period yesterday, we can't skip again, especially not a whole day.”

You pry on his arms again and Sol eventually lets you go, although reluctantly. Sitting up and turning to face him, you decide to ask him one of the first questions that came to your mind after waking up, despite feeling a little uneasy about it.

“Hey… uhm, what happened yesterday evening?”

Sol raises his brow, looking up at you.

“You don't remember?”

His confused, almost disappointed, tone only serves to make you feel even queasier.

"No…? I mean, I remember that we were eating dinner but everything after that is… gone? I just can't seem to recall what we did afterwards…” You grow flustered. What the hell transpired between you two that apparently caused Sol and you to cuddle but you just can't seem to remember?

“You fell asleep.” Sol explains, “In the middle of the conversation at that. I was really worried about you, y'know? It was probably the exhaustion after what happened at the arcade finally settling in, which is understandable but also precisely the reason why I would like for you to rest a little.”

What? Never before have you fallen asleep just like that…but then again, you have never been attacked like that either…

Still, despite his comforting, caring tone you can't seem to shake off the feeling that something is wrong.

Before you could respond Sol continued, “I carried you to bed, I'd say that's a whole lot more comfortable than sleeping on a chair.” He chuckles, trying to ease the tension, since it doesn't slip past him how on edge you seem right about now.

“That… that was really nice but…it doesn't really explain why… um, you're sleeping next to me..” you can't help but mumble that last part, too flustered, almost embarrassed, by the predicament you currently find yourself in. You weren't the type to cuddle with just anyone, especially not with people you have known since a few days. The thought makes you uncomfortable, it's just not like you at all.

Sol chuckles a little, looking at you in awe with a blush of his own.

Oh how much he would like to tell you what happened, what he did, what he would do for you. How he knows that the two of you belong together, that you're his, even though you are yet to realize that.

“You were squirming and mumbling in your sleep the entire time, I thought you had a nightmare and quite frankly, I didn't want to leave you all alone after what transpired earlier on. You understand, don't you? I apologize if this made you uncomfortable, but if the roles were reversed, would you have left me alone, shaking like a leaf?”

No, you wouldn't have left him. Would you have cuddled him? You are not sure. Perhaps he only meant to stay with you for a few moments but accidentally fell asleep. That must be it, right?

You were too quiet for too long for Sol's liking. Did you hate him now? You can't hate him, you could never hate him, could you? The two of you were Soulmates, there is no way one could hate the other, is there?

“...[____]?”

You snap out of your thoughts, your gaze turning back to meet his vermillion eyes.

“Sorry, I just-” you bury your face in your hands, “You only meant well, didn't you? I probably caused you some trouble by having you feel obligated to stay here with me, that wasn't my intention. You need your studies as well and shouldn't miss them just for my sake.”

You really are horrible. How could you think that Sol potentially meant any harm? How could you feel so uneasy? How can you still feel a little queasy, despite him explaining what happened?

Is it because deep down you know that he is not telling you the entire truth?

“[____], you will never be a burden to me, please remember that. I will gladly miss my studies if it means I can be by your side.” Sol smiles gently and takes hold of your wrists, pulling them back and revealing your face to him.

“You really should rest, though. I'll be here, right by your side… If you let me.”

He wraps his bigger hands around yours. They're warm and still bruised from yesterday.

Sol did so much for you. He fought off 4 guys just to make sure they can't harm you and now he offers to miss his classes for your sake. He is sweet, sickly sweet, he doesn't seem to care about others as much as he cares about you. How can a single person grow on you this much in the span of two days?

It's surely because you are made for each other, two halves of a whole who finally found each other.

You nod slowly, leaning towards him to hug him tightly. A hug is the least you can give him after everything he has already done for you. Sol wraps his big strong arms around you, stroking the back of your head in a comforting manner.

Luckily, you can't see the wicked smile on Sol's face. He has you right where he wants you. With time you will grow more and more reliant on him, but worry not, for he will take care of you, he always will.

“Are you still tired?” You nod in response, properly laying down while still hugging him. “Sleep some more then. I'll be here when you wake up.”

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep in his embrace, not caring about your prior discomfort caused by the very same action. Sol feels happy, truly happy, ecstatic even. You've known him for two days and yet you're almost putty in his hands, believing whatever he says, though, to be fair, why wouldn't you? He has no reason to lie to you, now does he? He only wants what's best for the two of you, after all.

Perhaps you are too trusting, but Sol will make sure to protect you from everyone who may take advantage of that.

…Though perhaps the only one you need to be protected from is Sol himself.

[formulawolff]

“tending to my love” - t.w.

pairing: fem!reader x toto wolff

word count: 1.1k

warnings: reader is sick, a few curse words here and there, fluff so sweet it may give you a cavity

a/n: this request was sent to me a longgg time ago by an anon! so anon, i hope you enjoy soft toto tending to the love of his life <3 and i hope y'all enjoy the coziness! <3

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how are you feeling? have you taken medicine? has theodore checked up on you?

letting out a slight cough, you reach for the mug on the nightstand. carefully, you bring the heated cup to your lips, steam billowing into your nostrils.

the liquid is soothing, easing the ache in your throat as it flows down, the warmth flourishing into your chest.

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the mug clinks as you place it back on to the coaster. three gray dots appear, signaling you that he was not quite finished with his series of inquiries.

there's about five more minutes of this meeting and then i am taking the rest of the day off. if you need anything while i'm out, don't hesitate to let me know. would you like any sherbet or sorbet for your throat?

a giggle bubbles up, yet it crescendos into a cough, your lungs burning as you bury your face into your elbow.

once your coughing fit ceases, you begin to type a reply, thumbs gliding across the screen.

still feelin' pretty shitty. all i am in need are of some cuddles ;((

his responds instantly, and you feel the corners of your lips curl into a wide grin.

my poor schatzi. don't you fret, the moment i'm home i'm going to cuddle the shit out of you.

i hope that didn't come out wrong. you know what i mean.

i know what you meant, love. can't wait to see you. x

once you're finished with your text, you shove your phone back underneath the covers. snuggling back into the comforter, your thumb hovers over the spacebar of your laptop, resuming your favorite netflix show.

although this was about your second time rewatching the infamous series, you couldn't get enough. it was your version of real housewives or keeping up with the kardashians, as there was never a shortage of drama in the world of formula one.

since you were sick, you couldn't imagine anything more comforting than watching your boyfriend work. especially since you couldn't be there by his side in the office. you wouldn't admit it, but there were times you fell asleep to the show when the two of you were apart.

which, was the case currently, as the waves of heat from the comforter were oh so cozy. especially in your current state.

yet, you needed to resist.

it wouldn't be too much longer until he was home.

only about fifteen more minutes and he would be in bed with you, wrapping you up in those comforting arms.

meanwhile, toto wolff curses under his breath, balancing his work bag, a small tote of groceries, and keys in one hand. the other presses on his car door, slamming it shut as he fidgets with the keys. clicking a button, the car chirps in response, signaling that it was locked.

who knew that leaving work early to take care of his sick girlfriend was such a crime?

sliding the key into the lock, his wrist rotates. his free hand grasps the knob, opening the door. setting his work bag to the floor, he slips off his shoes, the tote of groceries still in hand.

making a quick pit stop in the kitchen, he places a quart of sherbet in the freezer, sliding a couple bottles of gatorade in the door off the fridge.

now, he could finally reunite with his love.

the austrian trudges up the winding stairs, ensuring that his steps were a little heavier than normal. this was habitual, his way of letting you know that he was home and on his way to you in the bedroom.

however, he doesn't hear you call out for him.

a tiny dose of panic sets in, but he fights his way through it. you just had a cold. it was nothing major, mainly respiratory. there was no reason to fret too much.

when it came to you though, toto found himself in a constant state of worry.

if anything happened to you, oh fuck. that was a thought too heavy to bear.

the moment he enters the bedroom, his heart swells.

you're buried in the comforter, hoodie of your sweatshirt pulled on, lips parted as your chest rises and falls. your laptop is only a few inches away, the sounds of voices filling the space. there's the rumble of an engine here and there, a noise that the team principal knew all too well.

the sound of a formula one engine.

carefully, he sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. his hand connects with your cheek, thumb tracing tenderly along your heated skin.

"did you miss me, schatzi?"

his voice is soft, brimmed with adoration. he doesn't expect you to stir, but you do, lashes fluttering, nose wrinkling in the process. at the realization that he was there, along with drive to survive still playing on your laptop, you pop up, hands instinctively reaching out.

the sound ceases as you nearly slam the laptop shut, "h-hi."

"good evening," a chuckle rumbles in the austrian's chest, "how are you feeling?"

"tired."

"i bet," raising the comforter, the team principal shuffles under the covers, pulling you against his chest.

"how often do you do that?"

"do what?" nuzzling into collarbone, you inhale traces of cologne that linger, grateful for his familiar scent, "i don't know what you're talking about."

"you know what i mean," he tuts, "do you watch that to sleep?"

"sometimes," you shrug, "it helps me sleep."

"well i'm here now," his lips graze your temple, peppering kisses all over, "i'll be here to take care of you when you wake. do you need anything?"

"no," shaking your head, your lids droop, the sleep settling in once more, "you're all i need."

"i love you," his heartbeat is steady, guiding you closer and closer to the edge of slumber.

"and i love you, toto. thank you for leaving early to take care of me."

"always," a hand slips underneath your hoodie, massaging gentle circles into your back, "i'll always be here. there is nothing more important than tending to my love when she's sick."

"you promise?" you can barely form the words, but they come out anyway.

"yes," toto nods, "i promise."

as you doze off, the team principal can't help but bring you in even closer.

sure, it was a risk, being in such close proximity to you.

but it was a risk that toto was willing to take.

if it meant that you were content, then that's all that mattered.

after all, if he caught your little bug, then it meant that he would get to spend more quality time with you.

and that idea alone was more enough to make it all worth it.

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master taglist: @ts1m1kas @joalslibrary @bxuzi @swifth0lic @dounib67 @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @invictax @pretzelsarenice @lizxoxeth @crazygirl0902 @marknolee @f1kenzzz @statuewoman @jeannealicette @chuxk-lerclerk @manianoola @lokideservesahug @noooway555 @vimayxo @p3rcyp1g

[immajustvibehere]

Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader (Part 2)

Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)

Part1 here!

summary: Arthur takes you and Jack out camping for two nights. Both of you have to battle your feelings for each other until you finally....

warnings: one bed trope, fluff, domestic bliss

6000 words

In the manner of Arthur’s approach, you knew he was up to something. His big hands rested on his gun belt, his expression was casual. His attempt to appear relaxed was almost perfect. You weren’t fooled so easily, though. By the smug grin that started to appear on your face as Arthur came closer, he understood that you had sensed his unease from a mile away. Your intuition was exceptional, and Arthur silently cursed himself for his own transparency. And suddenly, there were his subtle tells…the scratching of his neck, the scrunching of his nose, the restlessness of his fingers caressing the leather of the belt.

"Hey, what's up?", you asked and propped your head up with your elbow resting on the table.

"Uhm...I have a proposition to make", Arthur awkwardly sat down at the table. Thankfully, barely anyone else was around to witness this encounter. The sun hadn’t risen yet and people were only slowly crawling out of their beds. In fact, Arthur still saw the remnants of sleep in your features but the steaming mug of coffee in front of you suggested that you were diligently combating it.

"I'm all ears."

Arthur couldn’t help but detect the playful undertone in your voice. You had grown more comfortable around each other the last few days and weeks and some banter and teasing were commonplace by now, particularly in the presence of others. But when you found yourselves alone, which hadn’t really happened since last time, you’d feel like there was a more genuine connection and care for each other than either of you would normally let on.

"Ya can say no if ya don't want to but-...well, I already talked to Abigail. She said she was fine with it", Arthur started. You had no clue what he was on about, but he pressed on, "I suggested we take out Jack for a night or two. The boy needs to see something aside this patch of land and I thought...if you would wanna tag along? You know, I was fine fishing with him but I'm not sure if I'd be any good at the other stuff."

"Yes, of course", you immediately replied. Arthur wasn't sure why he had expected a rejection or a dismissal that he was stupid to suggest such a thing. You actually looked pleasantly surprised about the idea.

You smiled: "It's not just Jack, you know? I haven't left camp since we moved here, so I'll get to see some of the country too!"

"Okay, sure", Arthur said, still somewhat in surprise about what you had just agreed to. But his surprise soon gave way to a sense of anticipation, especially when he noticed enthusiasm. He couldn’t supress a warm chuckle, evidently relieved that everything had worked out.

You briefly discussed the logistics, and Arthur settled on a plan: a night between Dewberry Creek and Ringneck Creek for the first stop, followed by, if Jack was up for it, a night in a room at the Rhodes Saloon.

The following day, you were all packed up. Your horse carried a rolled-up tent, large enough to accommodate the three of you. Jack rode with Arthur, he was the experienced rider after all and would be much greater use in keeping the child from sliding off the horse. It was a fine day, the morning sun was veiled behind some clouds, offering a respite from the usual stifling heat. Rain wasn’t to be expected, the clouds looked like they would clear sooner or later.

For the ride, Jack was dead silent for ten minutes at a time but then asked any question he could come up with. Arthur appreciated your willingness to respond, particularly when faced with Jack’s more challenging inquiries that needed to be tailored for a child’s understanding. Arthur was outright impressed at your skill in addressing his questions, and kept silent, even if Jack wanted his view on something specifically.

It was a smooth ride. Once you had passed the first creek you kept looking for an ideal spot to build your camp. You watched happily how Arthur pretended to discuss the area with Jack, granting him the final say in where to put up the tent. Arthur was responsible for the tent while you went off with Jack to look for firewood. When you returned, the tent had been putt up and Arthur had already gotten out the fishing gear.

"Are we fishing again?", Jack asked with curiously.

"Well, we gotta eat something", Arthur answered.

"But fishing's boring!" Jack said back and Arthur chuckled warmly. The last time he took the boy fishing, it was anything but uneventful, though he understood that a four-year-old wasn't so keen on standing still and waiting.

You squatted in front of Jack: "Why don't you take your toys with you to the water? You can play and Arthur and I'll do the boring waiting."

"Mh, okay."

You walked over to Ringneck Creek. Arthur settled on the same spot he had been to while fishing with Javier a while back. It had a good overlook of the place, so Jack could play in the distance, while still being in eye- and earshot. You and Arthur sat down next to each other, not saying anything and prepping the fishing rod. Even when there were no words exchanges, both of you felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Arthur felt your eyes on him as he pierced a tiny bit of cheese through the hook and handed the rod to you.

“The fish get cheese for lunch? That’s mighty fine, don’t you think?”, you joked.

“This cheese? It has been mouldy for days now. It won’t do us any good. But for fish? The stinker, the better”, Arthur explained and added in a mumble, “Or so I’ve heard…”

You both threw out your line and before you quipped: “So you keep your mouldy cheese in your satchel with the rest of your food?”

Arthur watched the rings expanding around his line, then swallowed quickly before looking you in the eye. Not very convinced he answered: “No…?”

He had expected a lesson on proper food hygiene, but you only grinned cheekily: “Glad I took care of food for this trip. But you really shouldn’t do that, you know? Next time you leave camp for more than a day, I’ll pack you something.”

“Ya don’t have to do that, really”, Arthur replied out of politeness, but the idea of you walking up to him with a sandwich to take on his journeys sent tingles to his chest.

“Mh. I insist”, you said, “I’ll have to take care of you if your stomach goes mad, so I’d rather prevent that. Not that I wouldn’t like to take care of you. Don’t you never keep an injury or sickness a secret in front of me, got it?”

“Yes ma’am”, Arthur said, “You sound like Miss Grimshaw, it’s good yer away from camp for a while”, Arthur joked. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to control him, but that you sincerely cared for his well-being. Something Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Of course, he would do the same for you – but that’s different because he had already figured out that he liked your attention more than anyone else. No, that he liked you more than anyone else. Arthur got a little lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t yet entirely sure about his feelings for you. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how you felt. You were so kind and caring for everyone in the gang, he sadly doubted that he was anything special.

“I missed spending some time with you. Sorry that it’s so hard to sneak away from camp”, you said after a while, bringing Arthur back to reality.

“Doesn’t matter”, Arthur mumbled. He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks getting warm, “We got away now, didn’t we? I feel almost bad that I take up so much of yer time.”

“Please don’t”, you laughed, looking at the man next to you with a smile.

“I think I saw Sean shed a tear when he heard that you’d be away from camp for two days”, Arthur mentioned.

“Yeah. I think he’s sweet on me”, you said so casually, that Arthur was caught off guard, staring at you in disbelieve.

Arthur cleared his throat before he slowly said: “I thought he and Karen…?”

“Well, Karen is good for one thing”, you said with an ambiguous smile, not meaning serious offence with those words, “I’m good for another.”

From the distance, you heard Jack calling for ‘uncle Arthur’. Arthur sighed with a smile and handed you his finishing rod.

“Yer okay to watch that?”, he asked.

“Sure, go ahead”, you encouraged him.

Jack wanted Arthur’s help to balance on a dead tree. It was wholesome to see how Arthur helped him up on the trunk and then held his hand so he would have an easier time balancing. Then the boy would sit on Arthur’s shoulders and break a smooth looking branch from a tree, using it to play swords fighting with Arthur. You knew that Arthur was gentle with Jack and compared to some men in the gang, even to John if you were honest, he was doing a great job. Still, you hadn’t dreamt that he'd be ready to take on a whole swords fight, pretending to get stabbed when Jack’s twig poked his leg. You noticed Arthur’s stolen glances in your direction. It was as if he wanted to make sure you were watching, though you didn’t have the impression that he only played along to impress you. Arthur seemed to genuinely enjoy it.

“Caught anything yet?”, Arthur’s voice woke you up from your daydreams when he walked up to you after a while.

“No…”, you answered and admitted, “I was a little distracted.”

“Ain’t blamin’ ya. We gave you a hell of a show”, Arthur said and took his spot next to you again. Luckily, a few fish bit later on and by the time you walked back to your tent, a fire could be built and the fish were grilled. A lot of time had passed, and the sun was already low in the sky. Jack demanded to be read to from his favourite book. After you had read a few pages and Jack had settled in to listen to some more, you handed the book to Arthur. He had been busy with stoking the fire and cleaning the grit, so he was a little caught off guard by the action.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”, he asked.

“Read to the boy”, you answered with a grin.

“Why can’t you?”, Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised in wonder.

“My throat is starting to feel sore”, you lied so obviously, that even Jack could have seen through it, “besides; I want someone to read to me too.”

Arthur considered the situation for a moment before giving in. The last time he read a book to someone…well, he wasn’t sure. Was it to Jamie when he was still a little boy or to Isaac? Did he ever even read out to Isaac? Arthur was prompted into opening the book when you suddenly snuggled up to him. But that alone made him lose his voice for a moment, so he had to collect himself before starting to read.

You loved how raspy Arthur’s voice would get when he was nervous, but it soon smoothed out and he had barely read for ten minutes when you had to stop him, because Jack had fallen asleep.

“’s barely even dark…”, Arthur commented after he had carried the boy to his bedroll in the tent.

“He did have an eventful day”, you said, and Arthur had to agree. The bottle of whiskey Arthur had brought was soon opened up and half was gone by the time you could make out the first stars in the sky. A lot of your conversation was just recollecting the day or commenting on happenings on the last few days, but after some silence, Arthur started a new conversation.

"Maybe, if ya told me what the other men ask you to do, I'd feel less a fool for asking ya fer something", Arthur suggested. The undertone of his voice revealed curiosity, but he had tried to keep that intent hidden. You were surprised that he remembered what you had talked about the last time it was just the two of us.

"You're unbelievable!", you exclaimed and giggled so light-heartedly. Arthur's heart melted when he saw the crinkles around your eyes. "You just want the gang's gossip!", you accused him.

"No! I'm just sayin'", Arthur shrugged with a smile, "It would really help a lot."

You looked at him, his blue-greenish eyes staring right back at you. You were an avid eye-contact holder, it was required for your role in the gang. But no pair of eyes ever compared to Arthur's. It was his turn to catch your gaze wandering to his lips, he also noticed how your eyes fluttered, when they looked up again, and then briefly away, as if you considered something.

"Fine. I'll tell you some. But I won't tell you who asked me for what."

"Sure."

"Mhhh...it's not the craziest stuff, if you’re expecting that. Most men like when I play with their hair. Or head scratches. I told you I was good at them! Someone likes it when I feed them. Like...you know...we go pick some berries and I feed them. It can be really,...domestic, I suppose. But then it becomes a lot of fun because we try to throw the berries into each other mouths, trying to catch them. It’s great..."

You got slightly embarrassed. When you spend time with other men from the gang, you always tried to give them an experience that made them happy. Some of it was oddly intimate. It didn't bother you much, but now, speaking about it with Arthur, you somehow started to worry that you'd be worth less in his eyes. Just because you have done those things with his friends. It wasn't like you slept with them. No, none, with very few exceptional instances, have ever been inappropriate.

You were silent for a while, those thoughts taking over quickly. And yet, what should it matter? It’s just Arthur, it was okay if he knew that side of you.

You sighed deeply, still finding Arthur’s eyes glued to your lips.

"Some of them like to show off to me. It's real stupid stuff. Like 'look how quick I can draw' or 'check out this piece of wood I whittled'. I suppose these are just things they are mildly proud at...but embarrassed to show someone. I...like that, though. It's really cute and reveals something about the person. There is always something to praise or enjoy about it. And they really appreciate it."

Arthur stared into the fire, nodding his head slowly.

After a while, he started with: "I ehrm-..." Then he pulled out his journal.

"It's nothing special either...", he flipped through some pages, only to reveal a double-sided sketch of Clemen's Point. A beautiful sketch, well-observed with depth and detail. You knew Arthur kept a journal – you never knew he drew in it! And from all the sketches the other men had ever shown you, most of them could have been done better by Jack, this was honestly impressive.

"Arthur-"

"I know, 's silly", and he was about to close the journal when you snatched it out of his hand and placed it in your lap. Not daring to flip the page but studying the sketch in front of you.

"Are you kidding? It's fucking amazing."

When Arthur looked at you in disbelieve, you doubled down: "Fuck you, man. I can't even pick out things I like to praise because the whole damn thing's just-!"

"Yer teasing me..."

"Am not! When someone shows me a drawing, I often have to guess, like ‘Oh, that’s a nice bison you drew.’ And then they correct me and go like ‘It’s supposed to be a dog.’ and we have a good laugh about it…but this…Is that Dutch's horse?", you asked, pointing at the little white stallion. Arthur confirmed it. You started to point at things, accurately identifying what it was. John's tent, the chicken coop, even the figure in the distance, that only was a vague outline of a person, you identified as if you had been there when it was drawn.

"You have more drawings in there?", you asked.

"Sure. But- wait", he took the journal back, carefully skipping the pages where he had sketched you, which had happened suspiciously often recently, and only showing you the landscapes and animals. You never expected that Arthur had an eye for things like that. A doe was captured perfectly in its shy manner. A funny looking cabin, a crooked tree. For all those things, Arthur stopped and took his time to draw them. It was stunning. You felt like he had given you a better idea of what sort of a man he actually is. To say you liked that version of him, was an understatement and you started to realise this with every sketch of ducks or fish he presented to you.

"When you find someone, someone you really like. And start a family...you could draw and sell those pictures, you know?"

Arthur was shocked. Firstly, why you knew about his wish to start a family, and secondly, that you suggested his drawings are nearly good enough for anyone to pay money for.

"Y/n", Arthur lamented, almost with a painful voice. As if you were that naive girl that had no idea about how life works. That there could never be a family for him, never a different life than shooting and robbing to get to some money.

"Have you ever painted? Like with colour and a paintbrush?", you interrupted.

"Ain't worth it. I'd be no good with colour. And it's too expensive."

"When's your birthday?", you asked out of the blue. You were determined. If you had to work your ass off for it or drop to your knees in front of Miss Grimshaw, you'd get this man a paintbrush.

"No", Arthur said firmly.

"Come on!", you quipped.

"Stop it. It's just a stupid thing I do to pass some time it ain't-"

"But I love them!", you interrupted, "I really do. Every single one you showed me."

"Clearly, something ain’t right in your head then", Arthur joked and put his journal away.

"You are a charming man, Mr. Morgan," you teased back, bumping into his shoulder.

As if your words had confirmed Arthur's accusation, he comically tapped your forehead with his index finger: "Really messed up, aren't you?"

"Why?", you said, switching gears and skilfully capturing Arthur's finger that had went for another tap. It took both of your hands to open Arthur's hand, not that he resisted, but his hands were huge. And with your guidance, Arthur's hand cupped your cheek. "Is it because I like to spend time with you? Do you think one has to be mad to enjoy that? Because if you do think that...I have to give you ten reasons why you are wrong."

Arthur barely listened to your words. His senses were hyper focused on his hand which was touching your cheek. Warm and soft. Not smooth like a perfect hide, but skin isn't perfect. Hell, his hand must be mighty uncomfortable. It was calloused, beaten up, scarred. There was no rational reason why you would snuggle your face into it like it was a pillow you readied for a night's sleep.

With pleasure you watched how often he blinked, how flustered he became, how his hand twitched in excitement under your touch. As careful as you were some butterfly, Arthur’s thumb dared to caress your cheek. The movement was so small, it was like he didn’t even want you to notice that you he had dared to do that. Somehow, this rough and hardened outlaw was a real sensitive guy. A sensitive guy who made your stomach flutter.

"I'll head to bed and join Jack, you coming too?", you asked, guiding Arthur's hand into your lap and holding in lightly with your two hands.

"Imma...t-take care of the fire a little longer", Arthur answered with coarse voice, his throat entirely dried up.

"M'kay", you smiled and stood up without letting go of Arthur's hand. Halfway in the process of standing up you halted, pressing a light kiss on Arthur's cheek and whispered good night, before finally letting go and walking off to the tent.

Though you were exhausted, it was tricky to sleep. You listened to Arthur who was still attending the fire, walking up and down, whispering to the horses and occasionally took a swig from the bottle. Jack slept at the side of the tent, you had taken the spot in the middle. No matter how long it felt until sleep finally took over, Arthur crawled into the tent ten minutes later, only to find out that you had messed with the sleeping set-up. It wasn’t the way he had arranged it, namely, a very inequal distribution of blankets and ‘pillows’ (rolled-up jackets or other garments). Arthur had planned to spend the night without a blanket, so you and Jack had two. But you had given up one of yours, which neatly waited on Arthur’s bedroll for him.

“She ain’t gonna make this easy for me”, Arthur thought, before lying down.

-

“Uncle Arthur!”, Jack squatted next to the man who was still fast asleep. Well, until the boy started to shake him with all his might, though it barely rattled the man.

“Aunt y/n told me to wake you”, Jack smiled innocently. Arthur was trying to grasp the situation. For a fleeting moment, he thought there was danger nearby. Then he had been confused about why Jack was there. Only slowly, as Jack left the tent and the rays of sunshine hit his face, he remembered that he had went out camping with you and the boy. And clearly, he had overslept.

Arthur crawled out of the tent and stood up with a groan, stretching his tired limbs. The smell of coffee had reached his nose before he looked down to see Jack walking towards him, a half-filled cup in his hands.

“For you”, he exclaimed. Arthur took the mug and mumbled his thanks, looking up a little to finally lay eyes on you. The fire was on, the percolator boiling with water, and he saw that you were in the process of readying a little pan for some eggs you had apparently taken from camp.

“Good morning”, you said with a big smile.

“Sorry I overslept…”, Arthur grumbled, sitting down by the fire.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you could catch up on some sleep.”

Breakfast was nice. You scrambled some eggs, garmented them with herbs you had collected earlier and re-filled Arthur’s mug. Jack was happy after eating a few bites and then playing with his toys in the distance. Arthur and you discussed the rest of the day and decided you would take your time, see if Jack was up for a ride and a stroll through Rhodes and spending another night at the Saloon.

Later, Jack helped you with washing the dishes at the creek. You managed to talk him into throwing a wet rag at Arthur, which he answered by throwing the rag back at you. This started a game of dogde or catch the rag. You laughed a lot. By mid-day you were on your horses, carefully navigating the shadows to escape the relentless sun. After one very slow hour of riding, with breaks whenever Jack discovered something interesting on the ground that needed further investigation, you arrived in Rhodes. After restocking on groceries, you made your way to the saloon, finding it relatively quiet and peaceful still.

“Can I help you, folks?”, the bartender asked, leaning on the counter.

“A room, please”, Arthur stated briefly. The bartender considered you for a moment, his eyes wandered from Arthur to you and finally your hand that rested protectively on Jack’s shoulder.

“We have a special deal for families. Spacious room, enough beds and a discount on a bath”, the bartender explained, opening the ledger where he kept track of which rooms were taken.

“Sounds great!”, you chimed in happily before Arthur could do as much as open his mouth.

“There you go. Walk up the stairs behind there, first door on the right”, the bartender handed you the keys, “Just let me know when you want the water heated up.”

“Will do, thanks!”, you answered. Your free arm was quickly intertwined with Arthur, who was taken by surprise. He stiffened a little but walked off with you and Jack rather convincingly.

“Whoa! This bed is huge!”, exclaimed Jack when you walked into the room.

“Ain’t for you though, little man”, Arthur chuckled. The room was equipped with a bed that was big enough to fit a couple and a toddler, but there was still a children-sized one in the corner. Arthur noticed how your arm slipped away from his as you entered the room, dropping some of your luggage onto the floor.

“Luxurious, isn’t it?”, you smiled. It was definitely better than the rooms you’d get in Valentine and probably even cleaner than the other ones the saloon had to offer. Jack was settling in, testing how bouncy his mattress was and unpacking his toys while Arthur walked up to you, clearing his throat.

“Yer fine with sharin’ a bed?”, he asked.

You raised an eyebrow: “We shared a tent last night, and that was a much tighter fit, wouldn’t you say so?”

“I guess…”, Arthur felt a little helpless. Sharing a bed felt more domestic and intimate than sharing the same tent. Also, Jack wouldn’t be all snuggled up to you, but in his own bed at some distance. Frankly, Arthur was excited. You watched his frown, not quite sure if its origin was because of discomfort or simple nervosity.

“Are you okay with that? I could bring my bedroll and-“, you wanted to suggest, but Arthur was quick to interrupt you: “I just didn’t know if you were fine with it. I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry about me”, you smiled, “I’ll go down and ask for a bath. Abigail will be glad I we bring the boy back cleaner than he was before.”

Arthur was alone in the room for nearly an hour, before you and Jack appeared with damp hair, smelling of soap. It was decided that Arthur would also make use of the warmed-up water, and as he went off to the bathroom, you and Jack set your plan in motion.

By the time Arthur returned he was met with a sight that initially puzzled him. The two of you had transformed the little corner with Jack’s bed using the limited resources available to you, creating a makeshift fort out of pillows and blankets. Jack’s small bed had been turned into a cozy cave of sorts, sheltered from the outside world to the point where you needed a lantern to read a book within.

Arthur didn’t even see you at first, he only heard Jack’s bubbly giggle and you shushing him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to play along and pretend that he didn’t know where you were…like some sort of hide-and-seek. But he decided against it, instead sighing happily, and sitting down on the big bed.

“I can hear ya, ya know?”, he said gently.

“No you can’t!”, Jack said back.

“Should have built it bigger, doesn’t look like I’ll fit underneath there”, Arthur commented. Now, you peeked out. Arthur saw how you opened a mouth, but something stopped you for a moment. His hair was wet and slicked back. He hadn’t even bothered putting on his shirt, but instead only wore his pants and union suit underneath. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to button it all the way up. It hugged his muscles perfectly. You knew he was in good shape, but you hadn’t expected THIS.

“Shouldn’t have grown so big then”, you finally said, a fine blush on your cheeks.

As the evening advanced, you had read several chapters to Jack, lulling him into slumber. You then quietly slipped into the bed beside Arthur. After some casual conversation which both of you skilfully and awkwardly used to get closer to each other, Arthur asked something that had been on his mind for a while: "What do you get out of it? All the nurturing and caring for everyone in the gang? Has any one of them ever done right by you?"

"Well...I have a place to stay and sleep. I don't have to worry too much about earning money. And I like making others happy."

Arthur didn't like that. A place to sleep and food, he felt like, shouldn't be things you had to earn by listening to the complaints of others all the time.

"All you get is hearing the troubles of some dirty, foolish outlaws. Ain’t really a life, is it?"

"Some make me happy too", you admitted, quietly. You realised how Arthur tensed up slightly.

"I get to know y'all. Don't you think that's a privilege? For a woman my age? Others can't simply walk around in the street, offer some hand-holding a listenin' and expect this to pay for their meals."

"You want to do this for the rest if your life?", Arthur asked. You scanned his body, focusing on the dark hair that grew on his chest.

"No", you whispered, and gently, you put your hand on his chest. You felt his heart, no, you saw how it beat, the skin of his chest swiftly moving in an up and down movement.

Arthur...was different than the others. You didn't know if it was that there was an actual difference, or if it just felt differently. But the way he treated you, the way he held you...it was so gentle. Like it was touch meant for a lifetime. The others were slightly more prudish, because they knew they had a couple of hours with you and maybe they'd be shot and die the next day. Somehow...not Arthur. When he pulled you closer into a hug, it was always the same, as if it was a welcome back, a coming home. There was no holding onto it, because he sorts of knew you would always be there. And you wanted it to be like that too. Because you, as tricky it was to admit, had feelings for this man.

Now it was you who caught Arthur staring, staring at the unsure movements your lips made as you searched for something to say. Maybe to explain what this all meant to you.

"Do you think it's ridiculous, what I do?", you asked. You wanted to know Arthur's opinion, truly.

"What? No."

"Really?"

"Hell, we'd be a bunch of degenerates if ya didn't keep us together. Yer ignoring Micah. For good reasons, I gotta say, and look what a slimy no-good he is. We'd be all like that if it wasn't for you", Arthur said. There was humour in his voice, but he meant what he had said. You smiled slightly.

"I wish I had come to you earlier", Arthur said.

"We are making up for the lost time, aren't we?", you said and leaned into him. The gesture seemed so familiar that Arthur wrapped his arms around you with barely any thought. Arthur watched your fingers as they trailed through his hair on his chest, never resting somewhere for long but tracing lines from his collar bones to where his beard started on his neck.

“Do you mind?”, you whispered, your fingers resting on a button of his suit.

Arthur subtly shook his head and watched how you unbuttoned one button after another. You had him slip out of the sleeves so the suit could be pulled further down, now exposing his entire abdomen to you.

There was no way he could hide his hitched breath. Your touch tickled pleasantly as your fingers explored his skin. He was enjoying those careful attentions, you'd trace around bruises and old scars, Arthur was focused on how it felt differently, the abused flesh and the scar tissue that had lost sensitivity. He noticed, either for the first time ever, or he had forgotten in the meantime, how ticklish he was on his side, under the ribs. He had no urge to laugh, but his body reacted to your touch differently, squirming when your skin brushed over his. Arthur noticed that you took a liking to those reactions, because he felt the corner of your mouth, which was pressed into his arm as you leaned into him, curl into a smile.

It was quiet. Sometimes the yells of a bar fight could be heard or someone hammering on the piano, but that aside, it was only Jack's silent snores that disturbed the peace.

"Arthur?", you whispered and sat up.

"Mhm?", Arthur looked sleepy. It wasn't even that late yet, but something about the situation was making him sleepy in the best way. You said nothing more. You only put your hand on his cheek, briefly caressing his stubble.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?", you asked.

For a few moments, Arthur's mind went completely blank. He only breathed a shaky "Yeah" and your lips brushed his already.

Instantly, Arthur's hands pulled you in closer. You were close, lips brushing, breathing each other's air. It was all you needed, before both of you finally pressed into each other.

You knew Arthur was gentle, but this sort of tenderness took even you by surprise. And Arthur- well, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? No, when was the last time he kissed a woman and felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He had craved this ever since the night you spent together. And by the way your hands wandered to his hair, fingers running through his strands, he knew you had wanted it just as much.

It was a soft kiss and both of you looked sort of surprised when it had ended. Arthur sat up slightly and pulled you on his lap, which earned him a happy grin. You started to pepper the man in front of you with kisses. Super light, as if a breeze was brushing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, under his ear, the corner of his lips. You had lost count, stirred on by a blushing Arthur underneath you.

"D-don't ya think that's enough?", Arthur said, kind of trying to dodge your kisses, but not really.

"Nope. You deserve this!", you said, but when you headed for his nose, Arthur managed to turn it into a proper kiss again.

Then you sank on his chest, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around you.

For Arthur, this was a weird feeling at first. But he loved how your weight pressed him down into the mattress and how your hands always found a piece of his body to caress and tickle. He was embarrassed about how dry his mouth and throat became again, all of a sudden. He was convinced you realized how often he had to swallow and how hesitant he still was to move his hands any further down than the small of your back. Though if you noticed, you were very understanding. You clearly heard his heart hammering in his chest and waited patiently for it to calm down before speaking again.

"Can I tell you something silly?”, you said, lost in thoughts.

"Sure"

"I liked it when the bartender referred to us as family."

"Me too", and his hold on you became ever so tighter.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

@eyelovie @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @daenerysluvrr @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @tem60 @freshoutthewomb2 @itswormtrain @ineedyoubadly @lea-khena @anawkwardartistandgamer @pheesupremacy @tahitiansiguesss @c2ss1e @alyxhasonsocks @kagemaruzest69 @agaritas @lonesome-ranger @joelmillers-gf

[choppeddreamworm]

Clashing Interests

Friends to lovers! Captain Hook x fem! reader

Summary: you wanted to catch a certain prince’s attention. Knowing he found swords interesting you decided to sword duel practice before trying to impress him. Who else to ask than your pirate friend, the famed captain of the Jolly Roger. He must be well adversed in swords to defend his ship no?

Warnings: teasing, flirting, a little spice (NO SMUT, just lingering touches, body descriptions and intense kiss ), slight jealous! Hook, Blood, Mention of injury, A little Angst with a little fluff to compensate, Experienced!Hook, Unexperienced! reader, wallflower & Book worm! reader

Word count: 4.4k ( proofread )

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Authors note: I thought this would only be 2k words but I just cant help but add over explanation to characters feelings (its a curse fr). I'm Sort of new to writing that might be why but ANYWAY I hope you my little birdies enjoy. Remember I welcome criticism not rudeness!

I really enjoyed writing this for yall :)

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Would you go out of your comfort zone to impress someone? Or go the extra mile, changing yourself to fit their ideal girl? No, is what the answer should be but you find yourself doing exactly that these days. Whether it be changing the way you laugh, walked or the way your clothes laid on your skin. Hook took notice, but decided to not bring it up since they were minuscule changes until you asked him to show you how to sword fight. He didn't want to think of you as less but you were a goody-two shoes, let alone a small bodied goody-two shoes at that.

"I'm sure the weight of the sword itself will defeat you before I even draw my sword lass", he easily dismissed your inquiry, closing his locker and starting to walk off. It wasn't such an odd situation, you bothering him during class exchanges. So in true annoying princess fashion you followed after hook. "Please you're the only person that's good with swords that I know of", you may be friends but that didn't stop him from taking a jab at you whenever presented with the opportunity. He was a villain after all. "I'm the only person you know", a small snort followed after his words making you roll your eyes. Yes you were much of a wallflower which made having friends hard but his hurtful words bounced off you completely. In some odd way you had grown immune to his insults. You grabbed at his arm before he could get lost in the seas of people passing by. "You still owe me for the homework answers I passed", you whispered yelled at him, finally getting his smoky black lined eyes to look at you. Seeing him not budge you let out small pleads, forcing him to respond "What even peaked your interest in swords? I thought books were the only thing you were capable of carrying", he arched his eyebrow while his voice took more of a serious tone, his eye darting from the book in your hand then to your face. A light heat of embarrassment settled in your neck, subconsciously you tried to hide the book behind you. There was no way you'd tell him your true intentions so you tried changing the subject, your hand grabbing at his coat over his shoulder tighter. In a whiny voice you spoke,"Are you going to help me or not?". Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, he let out a sigh of defeat, " you and me  after school at the bridge near the lake, lateness won't be tolerated..". The faux expression you held on dropped, a bright smile taking over as you squealed, "thank you, thank you so much!". Your noises died down as you noticed hooks grim face caused by you still not letting go of him. You muttered a small sorry fixing the crumbled fabric, but immediately mocked a salute. "But yes! Aye aye captain".

You didn't have a high status or many friends at the Merlin Academy, but you were just a girl with a pirate friend and a dream.. you'd make it work.

So you wasted no time, right as the last class of the day was dismissed you scurried around the academy to the outside reaching the little trail that would lead you to the place of hope. Where your future would change and you wouldn't recognize yourself in years to pass. You could already imagine the wedding bells ringing, the dress you'd wear and the look Prince Charming was wearing. Right before leaving the school grounds you went pass a few royal girls, they whispered amongst each other, laughing and huddled up. You couldn't help but stare at them, feeling a tug at your heart from the presentation. A female friend was something you needed Even if it sounded cheesy, someone to share your secrets with, talk about boys while getting manicures would do wonders right now.

Your day dream was broken when one of them looked up, locking eyes with you before scrunching her eyes in a disgusted manner. You instantly looked away, deciding to keep walking instead. An obnoxious laughter filled the air, one you could only guess came from the girls, you were tempted to look back but you knew you'd be hurt by the outcome, so you chose against it. Girls like that always clinged around the prince you were doing all of this for. If they didn't pay you any mind how would he? That's how you knew your changes had to amount to something. Instead of getting your hopes down you used it as reinforcement to look forward to the sword lessons with Hook.

Continuing upon the pathway you were tempted to get caught up on the flowers, possibly even taking some. But, there was no time to waste, a girl that wants to marry a prince doesn't have time for pointless hobbies (you definitely stopped to smell them).  The view you had of the lake while on the bridge was beautiful, an opportunity you couldn't deny yourself no matter how much you yearned for change. "Times ticking darling~", you heard that thick accented voice yelling. Not far from you was Hook sitting on a giant rock in-front of the white columns that worked together to create a small circle behind him. Your mouth couldn't help but stretch into a smile, one that had been gone since earlier in the trail...

James watched you skip towards him, even in your haste you still watched your step, your hands out like a little royal.

Finally in-front of him he stood up, grabbing one of the swords he had brought with him, "first things first you've got to get rid of that," he signaled to your back pack which you immediately put down next to the only other thing there, the extra sword. Hook never cared to actually bring stuff to school, to him this was a  really long boring vacation. You were convinced his locker was storage and not for academic things. While turning back to face him you realized he ha'd gotten extremely closer to you,"And that hair of yours". Your heart couldn't help but skip a beat as he inched his hook close to your face. That was definitely a reasonable bodily human reaction.

His Hooked hand gently pushed a few wild strands of hair behind your ear, while looking into your eyes. You reactively took a few steps back, hands nervously starting to collect your hair, "yeah, yeah i got it". One thing about villains was their inability to care, thats what your parents made you believe at least but gosh was it far from it. James tried not to look bothered by your indirect rejection to his advancements, clearing his throat instead. He explained how it was best to start with teaching you the basics, stance, grip and balance. So he did with many ridicules may you add, then when he finished explaining he let you hold the sword which was to say the least true to his tease, hard to carry. There was a light joke that left his mouth about you probably reconsidering taking on this new hobby that just struck a cord inside you."-no! I... I want this okay," noticing your little outburst  he sarcastically put both hands up, "ease off lassie I just thought books were more of your thing". Your desperation couldn't help but turn into anger. His jabs never affected you but it must've been that same feeling earlier in the trail starting to cloud your thoughts and keeping you on the edge that made you react (def not your growing identity battle).. He had always been your friend but did he think of you the same way those other royal girls did?"your not taking me seriously hook". you growled only earning a laugh from him at your failed  "intimidation" attempt . He was used to your Agressive gushes they he found the endearing.. "Maybe i shall go fetch some flowers to calm you-". His teasing words died in his throat when he saw you walking over to your backpack that romance book you would spend hours explaining to him during lunch or after class now in your hand. "What are you doing?", then with a grunt you flung the book towards the lake.

Due to the hard cover it didn't last long in the air, gravity making it meet the water with a splash, the beauty of its pages now soaking up the water surrounding it. Hook never was a fan of reading or books for that matter, but he couldn't help but feel a light pang in his heart. You had spent hours annotating it, personalizing the book cover and even forced him to sign it. 

He had suspected some boy had probably caught your attention due to the tweaks you made to yourself and your schedule here and there. But, Sword fighting and now discarding your favorite book, even for him as a villain this seemed wrong and he knew who it was.No one deserved your devotion especially that stuck up prince. "we can continue now," you walked back to your spot, trying to distract yourself, from the courage getting rid of your book took by perfecting your stance once again. He wasted no time, he didn't sulk instead made contact with your sword harshly. A loud clash permeated through the calm forest. "hey!" you to tried your hardest to collect yourself, the force of his sword disrupting your balance. "An opponent won't wait for a count start," did he feel bad, maybe a little but you were so adamant on being different you'd have to face the reality of hardship. He was a fool to think you'd want to learn one of his specialties in the name of spending time with him.. you were just friends.. nothing more

Your breaths start to grow irregular as you tried to keep up with his attacks, you timed his sword pushing forward at an open window leaving him what you thought was vulnerable. In reality, It was an aimless move one he didn't skip on to criticize  you, simply stepping out of the way he lead you to your fall. With nothing to push back on you fell face first on the ground, your sword clinged on the floor gently a direct comparison to your harsh contact on the dirt.

He walked over to you not even trying to help you up,"Remind me this little ordeal is for what exactly again, attention?". A familiar colored fabric dropped in-front of you. It was your skirt that went over shorts, he must've tried stopping your fall but in your head he was using it as a prize to flaunt . Your eyebrows scrunched at his words, using the small adrenaline rush you pushed yourself up. "I didn't know you'd be so adamant on changing yourself," you brushed the dirt off your face trying to not let Hook get a rise out of you. But when you picked up your sword, his words struck a nerve, "especially over some stupid prince".  You lifted your sword being the one now to initiate the attack again, he swiftly blocked it instead forcing you to hold a defensive position close to his face, "you don't know me". It was stupid for you to spit those words out because out of every student in Merlin Academy.. even your parents, he was the one who understood you the most. Your words didn't hurt him, they offended him, you couldn't possibly have the nerve to insinuate otherwise? He pushed you back with his sword resetting you to a neutral stance. "you're right i don't ..i'm just the only person who knows that you probably stopped to smell some flowers on your way over here and don't want to marry for status you just wish for a sappy love like those romance books you spend reading day in and night out," with every point he got across he pressed forward with a strike.He pushed you to see the idiocy that was, changing your whole being for someone that might not even appreciate you for you in your totality. A blush snuck up your cheeks mid battle making your defense faulty. Seeing the way your arms wobbled he stopped, laying his sword back to his side taking strides to be in-front of you. "so i guess you are in a way right princess, I don't recognize this lass in front of me..", his breath hit your face. You allowed him to say these words to you, looking up at him with now glossy eyes. His jaw clenched seeing your pitiful expression, he wasn't one for knowing to comfort so instead of saying something else to you he turned around.

Your heart had never beat out of its chest like this, even when charming looked you in the eyes or the very few times he had talked to you. The heat creeping into your body like slow poison, being one you had associated with the popular boy never another person... especially your friend.

He was being cruel... taunting you with possibly having feelings for him and your inability to woo your royal prince. It wasn't fair.  

The frustration made you charge forward with a yell , a rule he didn't follow himself in this moment, "never turn your back on your enemy". Something that had been engraved in his brain since birth. He didn't expect you to ever cause harm, you'd always cry over an ant being stepped on. But when he turned back around to face you he was lucky to catch your sword with his hook. The motion of you slashing downward in a perfect angle made him hiss, his eyes watched you put your sword back down, then to his arm. Right above where his hook ended was a gash not deep enough to need immediate attention but deep enough for that irony red substance to start seeping out. Your eyes widened, the anger you had fleeing, concern now replacing it due to seeing the red being soaked up by his ripped coat and white shirt arm. Desperation seeped from your words, "-James! I'm so so sorry please you have to believe me i..." his lighthearted sadistic laugh caught you off guard. He actually quite enjoyed the altercation you had created, maybe he was wrong to underestimate his dainty princess friend. "how the tides turned," he muttered like it was a revelation  under his breath. You were so sweet though, leaving your weapon on the ground to make sure he was okay, while he took his coat off, dropping it near you back pack. "If we go back to my dorm, I have- I have an aid pack or if you prefer i know where the nearest first aid kit is at school-" while your hand came up towards his injured arm to hold it, his other free hand came up to grasp yours. In a quick motion he spun your around, your back now on his chest. A light gasp left your lips as his hook came dangerously close to your throat. " Duels not over yet love," his husky voice made you straighten your posture. His other hand laid gently on your hip his cold rings creating a delicious contrast against your skin that was exposed. James slowly led you to the small dock near the area you had been fighting in. You new he'd never hurt you but the light doubt made it weirdly exciting. " Should i make you walk the plank as revenge for the wound hm~,' His breath cuddled the shell of your ear, his hook gently tapping the underside of your chin, making you experience a light jolt of electricity travel through your body. Then his demeanor changed with a joke " Or for choosing the most horrendous fish in the whole wide sea?". This time you couldn't help but grin at the jab he took at prince Charming.

"Go on then," he gave you a slight push forward, the threat of his hook on your jugular no longer existing. You stumbled regaining yourself, taking steps to reach the top of the relatively short dock. You hesitated, your own reflection staring back at you,"Ive heard It helps if you take off your shoes". His sarcasm made you lightheartedly roll your eyes nonetheless listening to him you took off your favorite shoes tossing them to a catching ready hook. This offered you time to admire him, the way his white shirt highlighted his light muscle while he stretched down. Now seeing your pirate friend in a new light. He had always put up with your odd hobbies even if he had acted annoyed at times, he still endorsed them. The lingering touches and eyes like earlier when he pushed your hair back...

You had to catch yourself, feeling that crimson red fight up your cheeks once again, now understanding its real implications. "do you need a bit of encouragement princess?" The overused nickname along with the way he strutter over to you playfully lifting his hook made your heart stutter inside your chest. Your widened your stance, noticing in the process of setting down your shoes he had taken his off to. To be completely honest you didn't know how to swim properly, "i don't know how to swim hook so you better not!". You giggled knowing he was either going to push you or pick you up and throw both of you in. "I know, thats why its even better," He growled. Lucky for you he made a senseless attempt to rush you, using a move from his book like earlier you simply moved away, leaving you perfectly watching his body make a big splash standing unharmed. Similarly you couldn't help but laugh and mock him, " hows that for walking the plank!". Your cackles died down once the ripples on the water came to a halt and yet no pirate emerged. The air had grown silent, you called out his name but got nothing in return. Doubt started trickling in your brain, did he know how to swim? Maybe he had been cursed like you with the inability to tread water... but he always bloated about his adventures at sea. Even saying he wrestled a crocodile once (he definitely did not).

You kneeled over the edge of the dock, maybe you'd catch a glimpse of him in the water if you got closer. How could the famed captain of the Jolly Roger have such a strong weakness? Answer was he didn't, before you could react something snatched your wrist from the dock. There was no time to even let out a scream before your body was enveloped in the cold water.  The courage to even open your eyes underneath the lake no where to be found, too focused on holding in your breath. Your hands started flailing, successfully taking you upward to let your nostrils be greeted with sweet air, but not to keep you afloat. Before you could start panicking again a pair of arms wrapped around you gently, turning you around, "calm.. ease up darling don't kill both of us,". Finally having something to wrap around, your gasps for breath came to an end.The secure hold of your hands on Hooks neck and legs subconsciously wrapped around his waist let your body ease. He watched as you assed the somewhat murky water before turning to look at him. Both of your eyes locked, you could see his eyeliner starting to smudge, the black stone earrings he always wore that you only ever saw from afar and his small birthmarks. One on his upper lip, the other on his right cheek. 

The proximity and position didn't help the growing tension.  "Thats a very dangerous look lass," his voice grumbled entrapped by the longing held in your orbs. He was right, he had only ever been your friend maybe he was thinking of the consequence this situation you were in could bring. But to him he wasn't referencing the outside people, he did not care for their opinion. Instead he was talking about himself.

If you were in his hands and looking at him like you would jump off a ship in the middle of the sea if he asked you to, he would not be able to help himself. Your parted lips were basically begging for him to meet them. "I've reconsidered what you said.." your breathy voice brought his eyes back up to yours. He felt your thumbs tapping the skin around his neck nervously provoking that cocky smirk. "and that is?," you munched on the inside of your mouth, letting your left hand leave the hold on his neck sand trace his arm down to his hook, "Im letting the fish i desperately wanted off the hook-". A sudden swish of water created by hooks hand cringing, made you immediately stop your metaphor and shoot your hand up. Seeing a bit of that red substance on your fingers, the rest probably taken by the water itself and hearing the groan James tried to hide inside his throat made you comprehend. "I'm sorry i was just trying to, i thought it would've been funny if when i said that-id touch your hook, please forgive me James!" he heard you descend  onto madness even using his birth given name. "its alright," he muttered still trying to get over the pain your fingers incited by touching the fresh wound. But you still kept at it, tugging your hair strands nervously. Thats when he decided his free hand would take one of your cheeks in its palm redirecting your attention at him. His rings caressed your skin perfectly, "I've already found it in my big villainous heart to forgive you". You grew quiet sharing a small laugh along with him yet still weary. Before he could take his hand off, you raised your own smaller one entrapping it, surprising the flirtatious pirate. you inched impossibly closer, enough to see the veins in his beautiful eyes sitting right above his thick bottom lashes. In response he grazed your face with his eyes, an unfamiliar rattle of anxiety traveled his nervous system, is this what all those romance books you read talked about when finally kissing the romantic lead? You weren't his first kiss, that was obvious with his comfortability flirting, yet he didn't understand this pit feeling in his stomach.

 His breath slightly hit your upper lip making a light shudder leave yours in response. Your whole life you'd thought when the moment came, you'd realistically wait for the boy to kiss you. Never thinking you'd come across a moment so right. So perfect. The thought of prince charming, morals and rules left behind. You had never done this before, James knew so he let you make the decision of letting your lips come crashing down on him... and down hard. Hook was a bit taken back, the strength of your kiss pushing his head backward slightly but he tried his best to reciprocate. Your inexperience was obvious but he relished in it. 

A few voices in the distance cut your moment short, both of you parting and turning your heads to the bridge. Your pulse skipped a beat recognizing the same girls who laughed at you in the trail, seeing the fear in your eyes hook started slowly swimming towards the shallower end of the lake taking you with him. Understanding the implications of being seen in this exact position with you could hold. Implications you weren't forced to put up with just because he was a villain and the fact you could still save your chance with that prince of yours. He didn't want to deprive you of that ability," we should probably.." he started but you disagreed, muttering a small no.  The girls already saw you as less for being yourself, never did you care for anyone else's opinions until your eyes started being set on prince Charming. He wasn't at fault, it was yourself, you started realizing you had been looking at this all wrong. "kiss me," it left your lips so easily, "are you sure?", hook was tempted to ramble but when he heard you beg he couldn't help himself. In comparison to the forceful kiss you gave, his lips met yours gently his free hand holding your neck and some of your jaw. The act of his hooked arm pushing you into him made the butterfly feeling described in your books start to emerge. You let him lead you, his kiss becoming more feverish by the second. Then his ringed fingers left your side for a moment, leading the idle digits of yours located around his neck to the back of his head instead. Subconsciously you dug them into the strands you had always admired, unknowingly to you serving as leverage to deepen the kiss. Your body felt trapped in his being. You never wanted to let go.

 His lips and yours stretched when the forgotten girls in the bridge gasped, probably gossiping about the most outrageous scene in-front of them. "Cheeky royal putting on a show for them," he muttered against your lips in a purr. You leaned your head back allowing both of you to breathe, "Your the one who was kissing me". His fingers crawled up your neck taunting you before they reached your face, his thumb dragged provocatively over your bottom lip. Being under his gaze made you shudder lightly, the temperature of the water not helping. "if it weren't for your begging we wouldn't be here my little vixen," he playfully threw the nickname out, making you sheepishly grin. You started letting go of him slowly, seeing that fake predatory look on his face start to appear. "You look exceptionally Ravishing my sweet, " He flashed his teeth then pounced on you. Your feet softly met the banks of the pond, jesting back at him"no get away from me you beast!'. 

Whilst you both laughed splashing water on each other you couldn't help but let your heart warm. You'd definitely hear an earful from your parents. Those girls would definitely spread their new found information around like wild fire.

Alone with a villain inside a body of water would definitely tint your reputation enough to not let you get charming.. or any prince for that matter. But maybe this whole time you were focused on the wrong, "self conceited" boy in the Merlin Academy. He was much closer than you initially thought and you didn't have to go change yourself inside out, He already appreciated you as you are   <3

———————————————————————

[selarina]

AU where Gojo Satoru and you have been co-parenting Megumi and Tsumiki for 2 years now.

Warnings: fluff, reader wears a dress, questionable parenting, protective Megumi Fushiguro, pre-canon

It's a normal evening, Satoru is up, he walks into the living room and his gaze is drawn to the little brat whose gaze is fixed on the television screen — face blank. He knew getting cable was a wrong idea, but he relented once you insisted.

It's a normal evening but suddenly you walk in with your fingers rummaging through your purse's depths, donning a deep blue dress, a stark contrast to your usual muted clothing choices.

Satoru remained uncharacteristically silent, not knowing which question he could start with.

"Why are you dressed up?" A voice pierced the air, and he supposes the little brat who's walking up to you, posed a better question than anything that would have come out of his own mouth.

"I... " You faltered momentarily in your purse-rifling, and a few seconds pass before your attention finally shifts to the boy when you finally seemed to locate your phone.

"I have a date," your lips revealed, a smile tugging at the corners, like you were half-shy about it, half-eager too but Satoru would rather not delve into that.

"He should be here soon. How do I look?" You direct your question into the room when no one says anything.

Gojo has a barrage of jokes and insults dancing at the tip of his tongue, something that he knows you will think about on your ride to the restaurant or whoever this date of yours will be taking you, but alas, he is a simple man sometimes. "You look good," he responds.

Your gaze veered from the little one, traversing to lock onto Satoru. Your head tilted slightly, a bit amused, but mostly confused as though you didn't hear him clearly.

Satoru swallows, "Like a smurf," he adds.

At that, your eyes narrow as you stare at him as you most often do - studying him like he's a bizarre scrunkly-looking creature you'd relish dissecting.

He dons a cocksure smile after that, striding animatedly towards the couch as he casually chimed, "Good luck on your date."

You turn your attention to the little boy who will at least be earnest in his thoughts, "What do you think, Megumi?"

His response is swift. "You look pretty," he says, plainly, like it's a matter of fact.

A genuine smile stretches across your lips, and you have to suppress the impulse to pinch his cheeks – a gesture you've come to learn he's not particularly fond of. Instead, you strode forward as your fingers grazed against his raven locks in a silent acknowledgment of his words.

The doorbell tolled, its chime resonating and cutting through the moment as you found your footsteps receding from the living room and towards the door.

In your absence, Satoru could hear the shuffling and the muted exchanges, before they became clearer as the two of you seemed to walk into the living room.

"I'll just get my scarf. You can wait in the living room," you say as he watches you rush to your room.

Satoru's head inclined subtly, affording him a glimpse of the man who just walked in. His gaze remains on the man for a second before they shift back to the screen ahead of him.

A woman gets shot, and another man gets stabbed seemingly to death. Wow, that was 7 proper stabs. What has Megumi, the 9-year-old, been watching?

Megumi remained where he stood since you left to greet your date, he has been silently appraising the man ever since he walked into the living room.

"Hi," the man greets him, a smile that seemed to stretch up to the bottom of his eyes.

"What are your intentions?" Megumi's inquiry came out like a dagger.

"Uhm, I... " The man faltered, and Megumi decided that the hesitation got him some negative points.

"Well, um, good intentions. I promise," the man attempts under the little boy's growing hardening gaze.

But the moment washes over the man quickly when he watches you walk out of your room, pulling a cream-colored scarf snug from around your shoulders.

An apologetic smile graced your lips, "Sorry about that."

"No," the man clears his throat, his eyes still not leaving Megumi's gaze. Honestly, he was too scared to. "No worries," he managed.

You take in the scene, before you try carefully, "Okay, we'll get going."

Swift as a shadow, Megumi is quickly at your side, his small hand reaching up to tug at the fabric of your dress.

This was something he did quite often, upon your own request. Something about how some words are meant only for each other, and when that's the case you promised to lean down and hear him out.

Honestly, Megumi figures it has something to do with that one time he said something maybe a bit rude to a lady that was looking at you dirty for some reason. He could still feel the weight of the other people's stares as you had to talk down the lady – malevolent arrows flung from a stranger's bow, aimed squarely at you.

He couldn't understand it entirely but he didn't like how you looked after that incident and he has been following this ritual ever since. Tugging at your pants, and your skirts alike.

You seated yourself, careful so you don't flash your date too early into the night.

You meet his eyes, as he speaks, "Don't go."

The query hung in the air. And surprise danced upon the strings of your expression. That's odd, you can't help but think. Megumi's always been independent, letting you live your separate life as your own, but this is certainly new.

"I don't like him," he adds his confession.

"I could like him," is all you could say.

"You could?" He turns, doing one over on the guy who at this point is on his phone scrolling through something. Could be a settings app for all you know, but you appreciate the privacy he created.

"Maybe, I just want to know him."

"What if he attacks you or something?"

"Do you not think I'm strong?"

"You're the strongest person I know," his response comes out immediately to affirm you.

You stare at him, a bit surprised but a smile graces your lips. You'll take it.

"After him," he nudges his arm, gesturing to the man sitting on the couch, and you frown. You'll take it regardless.

"Alright, then do you not think I'll be fine?"

Megumi's frown deepens. "Fine," he concedes

"Okay, I'll bring you some dessert." You gently ruffle his hair, before you stand up.

You're long gone, saying your goodbyes one last time to Satoru’s rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, as Megumi watches the TV play.

Satoru plops himself next to Megumi, making him bounce on the couch just a little before he nudges him as he holds out a packet of cookies.

“You’re not supposed to give me that,” Megumi answers, choosing to side-eye the packet, his eyes keenly trying to focus on the scene in front of him.

“Says who?” He barely hears Satoru’s munched-up words.

Megumi doesn’t answer, still staring at the TV. He does want a cookie, if he’s being honest and he figures if someone’s getting in trouble with you later — it’s going to be the man next to him.

So, he reaches out, stretching out his hand to grab a cookie. He takes a small bite, chewing as he turns his head. He sees the man next to him plop two cookies into his mouth with ease. It annoys him how two whole cookies go into his mouth — all in one go, while the span of one cookie is just so larger than his whole hand.

Megumi swallows before he speaks up, "I spoke to him.” Satoru merely hums in response so he continues, “I scared the shit out of him. He’ll be good."

Megumi reaches over, taking another cookie.

Honestly, Satoru wasn't overly concerned, knowing more than anyone that you could handle such situations on your own. While he could only wish that you didn't have to deal with inconveniences, he had confidence in your safety.

But as Megumi's words start to linger and stain in his head, similar to the blood splatters on the TV, he simply took another sip from his cup before an inevitable smile etches itself onto his face.

[thebluester2020]

[ZZZ] "How To Recieve An A+ In Housekeeping!"

Summary: Attempting to get a job in Victorian Housekeeping Co. is a very strenuous process! One must show a wide variety of skills, good vocabulary, and excellent manners— all three were skills that you were failing at but, luckily the leader of the company had the perfect method to teach you these skills and it all starts with a program! Warning(s): Dom! Lycaon / Sub! Reader, Brat-Taming [Reader's a bit mouthy at best tbh] Spanking, Slight Edging, Cum Denial [Kinda? Lycaon encourages reader not to cum but doesn't do anything to enforce it tbh], Lycian being gentlemanly as hell. (Feel free to tell me if I missed anything!) Side Note(s): I won't say I am/am not a furry. But I will say that my taste in dudes will always favor them where they're stoic and serious but have a secret soft side. Respectfully, those types of men make me want to do the sexy splits on them.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this <33

"Your manners are terrible"

When those words left the wolfman's mouth sternly as you sat before him, only a desk separating the two of you, you could've sworn you felt a metaphorical anvil drop into your stomach. You had been job-hunting for a couple of weeks now, after your last gang had disbanded due to the leader getting caught up with the law. You no longer had a steady flow of cash (albeit a little illegal ) coming in!

From gang member to attempted housemaid...it was laughable. Even to you.

And clearly, the leader of the Victorian Housekeeping company thought so too from the way he looked at your resume with a strict gaze once more before resuming looking at you. You were fully expectant of another harsh sentence to slip from his sharp-toothed youth until...you heard a heavy sigh escape him.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the very room seeming to react to the movement by the way the single light above you two flickered. His then he huffed. "There is a way to improve to improve your manners, however, you'll be learning from me personally."

You gasped. "Really?! Thank you so much, man!"

His ear twitched at the casual "man" you threw his way. "...Sir or mister is a more proper way of speaking to your male superiors."

You cleared your throat and uttered a 'sorry'. "The program will be for three weeks. Each week will be dedicated to a specific set of manners that you are to master if you wish to join the company."

"Which are?" You responded.

"The first week will be vocabulary, communication with clients, and the correct words to address people by," As Lyacon said this, he opened a drawer on his side before pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it to you. You slowly began to read over the paper, one that seemed like a contract of sorts as the wolf continued to talk.

"The second week will simply focus on posture."

You scoffed as your eyes flicked back up to his. "Posture? Ain't that just walkin'?"

"Proper posture is harder to achieve than one may assume Ms. Y/N." He said. "The third week will be—"

The sudden clearing of his throat made him stop immediately, your face suddenly but quickly turning red as you reached a section on the paper that caught your eye.

Complete submission is expected by those who train under Von Lycaon, especially those he offers "favors" to.

"F-Favors...?"

"Favors hint towards a sexual nature, if I'm to assume that was the inquiry to your question?"

In your former gang, you had heard about Von Lycaon and the whole attitude of the white wolfman. He was a pinnacle of perfection in seemingly everything he did! There didn't seem to be a single thing he half-assed, to put it crudely, and what's more? He didn't get distracted. So...for a document to suggest that he wanted submission during sex?

You didn't know if it was shocking or expected.

"I didn't expect the Lycaon to need a document to garner sex." You said.

A rare chuckle left him. "I don't," He answered. "But everyone learns quicker and better when praise and pleasure is included, correct? This is merely a suggestion for you to learn faster. You are more than welcome to opt out of this."

"And if I accept?" Upon that question, the corners of Lycaon's mouth curled up slightly as he slowly leaned in until you could just barely feel his breath.

"Then you will learn fast. On my honor, I promise you."

You should've said no to this optional part of the program. All you needed was a job and Lycaon made it clear that there was a sexless version of the program where you'd simply learn the old-fashioned way! No pleasure or sex included but...as your eyes steadily trailed over the thiren, you couldn't deny he was a handsome individual. It wouldn't be unpleasant in the slightest to have benefits while completing your training under him. And as you steadily came to that conclusion, your thighs beginning to clench underneath the desk.

The thiren briefly sniffed at the air before he closed his eyes and exhaled. He was as still as a statue for a brief moment before he cleared his throat and offered you a pen from his breast pocket.

"I didn't give you an official answer—"

"Your scent gave me a suggestion." His raspy voice in combination with the sudden feral look in his eyes...you all too quickly shooed away any doubts you may have had before you began to sign away on the line at the bottom of the paper. And once you did, sliding the paper gently back to the wolf, he read over it briefly before he folded it neatly and placed it back into a drawer.

"We shall begin Monday," Lycaon said. "Please be prompt and on-time, I don't tolerate tardiness."

"Yeah, yeah." You scoffed.

And thus, your training as a potential housemaid for the Victorian Housekeeping Company has officially begun.

. . .

| Week One |

You had slept in, you had forgotten to set a timer over the weekend, too engrossed with the fact that you had basically agreed to have sex with Lycaon during your three-week training! The second you arrived home, it was a struggle to not touch yourself to the thought of what he looked like underneath his kept-together appearance.

You imagined he'd be soft to the touch judging by how much fur he had.

Would he be firm with his gaze, demanding you to be perfect even in the heat of the moment? Or would be he gentle and accommodating with you?

No matter how much your body cried out for you to indulge yourself a little, you saved it until you experienced it for yourself.

But right now, as your head was bowed down in apology to the wolfman for making him wait over forty minutes to your first day. You had a strong feeling you wouldn't be experiencing anything pleasurable today. "Once again dude, I am SO sorry!" You said.

"I forgot to set a timer, then I wanted to stop and get some breakfast along the way—"

"Stop," He snapped his jaws with a growl seeming to bubble just underneath the surface, the sight of his fangs making you shudder out of fear and...the slightest hint of excitement.

"First appearances are important, the most important out of any interaction and you sullied it on your first day of training? How do you expect to work for the company with such a flippant attitude?"

"I said sorry—"

"Sorry does not cut it Ms. Y/N. Excusing being a minute or two late is another matter but forty? Punishment is the only fitting way to solve such blatant disregard for other people's time." At those chilling words, Lycaon took a single step toward you before he took your chin into his hand, his eyes scanning over your nervous form with a critical gaze before he eventually sighed.

"I have a punishment in mind, please see to it that you are undressed in my office within' five minutes, and be on time."

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers before you huffed defiantly. "I'm not doing that!" You yelled.

His ear flicked, to him? You sounded like an impudent child, screaming and doing anything to get out of being scolded by their parent. "No?" He tilted his head.

"No!"

A wolfish smirk crept onto his face. "Every minute you stand here is an additional minute to your punishment Ms. Y/N. Do take care to remember that."

And so, there you stood.

| + | + | + |

You wouldn't be able to claim that he wasn't patient for the entire duration you had a fit about being punished on the first day of training. For about ten whole minutes, you stood there staring at the thiren until you eventually got bored and decided that "your punishment wouldn't be that bad" and simply went to his office!

You sat on a black couch and waited and when Lycaon came in?

The way he so quickly got his hands on you felt like you were being thrown around by an uncouth beast, a complete switch from the gentlemanly wolf you were talking to just a few minutes ago.

Slap! "Count." He ordered.

"O-One—Ah!"

He tutted his lips with a shake of his head as his hand slapped against your ass again, your maid uniform tugged up to your midsection as he pinned your hands down with his free hand. "Proper communication is most effective when you're speaking clearly Ms. Y/N...also, it's "one, sir"."

Another slap against your red behind rang out in the air, your body jerking forward a little at the movement. "At this rate, you'll never reach fifty." He sighed.

"W-Wait...!" You begged. "J-Just give me a break...so I can c-catch my breath—" When he slowly inched his hand upward again, your eyes widened as you quickly remembered your manners. "S-Sir! J-Just let me catch my breath...please."

If your eyes weren't blurry with tears, your mind getting fuzzier and fuzzier as you tried to ignore the ache in your cunt. You could've sworn you saw his tail move a little. After a minute, however, a sharp gasp left your swollen lips when you felt a finger graze against your sex, the featherlight touch making you shudder as you whipped your head around to look at the Lycaon.

Unconsciously, his tongue poked out to sweep against his upper set of canines as he focused on how your slick oozed out from your pussy so shamelessly. But at the same time? He figured he shouldn't have been shocked at the lewd sight, his keen hearing didn't miss the way a tiny moan would escape your lips at each slap. It was as if you wanted him to keep going and didn't want your punishment to end anytime soon.

Such behavior wasn't befitting of a potential future employee at the company. "Are you done recuperating? If so, then let us continue."

"W-Wait..." You begged. "J-Just a little time- Ah!"

"Now, now—" He pressed his hand down on your wrists a little more, lightly pinching at your thigh with the tip of his claws to calm your squirming. "—If you focus and count Ms. Y/N then your punishment will be over very soon, please remain focused."

After a final warning, he was quick to resume his smacks against your ass. The pain and pleasure eventually blurring into one another enough for your brain to somehow find a way to "center" itself. And, after around twenty minutes...Lycaon finally released you from your bent-over position over his lap and got up.

A lingering rebelliousness in the back of your head wanted to curse out the wolf as he stood, fixing his cuffs until they were neat again as if he wasn't rocking a blatant boner in his trousers! Yet as your mouth began to open as he walked further away...it quickly shut when he started walking back to you after grabbing something from a bookshelf behind his desk.

"What is that?" You asked.

"Aloe cream, it should help with the burn and any burning sensations."

Oh, you thought.

How...nice of him.

At your silence, his head tilted as he sat down next to you. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah...I just wasn't expecting aftercare." You blushed.

"Your work would be even more affected if I didn't do this, I wouldn't want that." Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat.

. . .

| Week Two |

You didn't want to admit it to yourself at the time but you knew full well as to why your heart skipped a beat that day. At first, you tried to joke and claim that you were a masochist starting to bloom! Von Lycaon was handsome, yes but you knew how to distinguish between work and personal lives! Besides, you wanted money more than you did romance and if the latter interfered with your money...you weren't in any shape or form interested in it.

But, at the second week's coming, this week focused on posture if your memory served correctly. You couldn't lie or joke to yourself anymore.

You developed a crush on your future boss.

And it grew harder and harder to deny that fact in your...current position. Naked aside from your short black heels, you were standing right in front of Lycaon with his pants pulled down just enough to reveal his leaking dick. The tip seemed to turn increasingly into an angrier red as you continued to stay frozen in place. "Are you uncomfortable?" Lycaon's words snapped you out of your thoughts before you shook your head.

"N-No sir! It's just..." You went quiet for a second. "How...how is this going to teach me posture?"

"If you would come closer, I will show you." Like a siren's song, the beckoning of his clawed finger made you take small steps forward until you were finally in front of him. "I'll be letting you take control of me for some time," You could've sworn you caught a smirk on his lips at his words. "If you manage to fuck me until I cum with the correct posture then consider your training done, and welcome to your new job as a new maid to the Victorian Housekeeping company. I'll be generous and not even include the third week of training."

"But—" As his hand found its way to your hips, he gently tugged you forward until he slowly maneuvered you to straddle him on his lap, his cock throbbing against your stomach as beads of sweat started to appear at the back of your neck. He reached the middle of your stomach, easily! And that wasn't even considering his girth. "—If your posture fails, you will unfortunately stick to the original training program. And I must warn you, most do not manage to get through week three."

You jumped a little when you felt Lycaon's hand move down to your pussy. "What are you doing?" You voiced out shakily, your clit throbbing at Lycaon's touch as one finger alone was enough to cover your entire clit.

"Preparing you of course," He said with an "obviously" tone. "No matter how much I can smell your eagerness in the air—" A sharp moan escaped your lips when his finger started to slowly move, your cheeks burning at the fact you let out such a noise from such little stimulation. "—I doubt you will be able to fully take me without a little prep."

"Y-You..." You bit your tongue to keep a curse from flying out, your hands quickly moving to his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself and not lose yourself too quickly to the pleasure. A task that you were quickly failing at as you felt a knot slowly begin to form in the pit of your stomach, scorching hot tears brimming your eyes as a single line of drool fell from the corner of your lips.

And Lycaon was enjoying every second of it.

If he were to be honest with himself.

He didn't want you to succeed this time.

After having so much fun with you last week, he would say that he had gotten a bit greedy. As entertaining as it was to tame your bratty behavior and mold it into something more palpable as someone who would be interacting with clients often, it was torture all the same to him to not shut you up with his cock instead! It wasn't enough to rut into his hand at the end of every day, heated pants leaving his lips as his tongue lulled out of his mouth like some common dog begging for a slip of meat.

To say that it was unbecoming of him to set you up for failure was an understatement, rubbing your needy bud until you nearly squirted on him wouldn't make you last very long when you were actually seated on his cock. And as cruel as it was for him to say...how unbecoming and un-gentlemanly it was...

He was so fucking eager for you to fail.

"S-Sir..." His ears perked to your whining as your head fell his chest, his ears then moving to the sound of lewd squelching coming from your pussy. "Please...I-I'm so close..." You whined.

He allowed himself to play with you a minute longer until...he took his finger away.

He struggled to withhold a laugh at your state, your eyes seeming to be confused and stuck between wanting to glare angrily at him or beggingly like a wanton whore for him to continue. "Don't look like that," He said. "If I were to make you cum now, you would be too shaky to fuck me."

You were too shaky now.

But, you'd first kiss the seat of a toilet lid before admitting defeat.

"I-I won't fail this..." You said with determination, although breathlessly.

His tail wagged ever so slightly at your determination. "We shall see," He responded before he relaxed against the couch with a deep sigh. "Please begin at your leisure Ms. Y/N." When you took him into your hand, you felt a surge of confidence at Lycaon's not-so-quiet sharp inhale of breath. You prayed that he was just as needy as you because as you lined him up to your entrance and started to slid him into you, every inch that sunk further into you made your mouth gap wider and wider until you were certain you looked like a gasping fish.

He rubbed against your walls so nicely too, his girth stretching you out just enough to where it made you drool as it touched spots inside of you that you hadn't had a clue existed until today!

"F-Fuckkkkk..." You moaned out once you were fully seated on him.

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, desperately trying to ignore that burning feeling in your core as you began to move.

"Shit." Oh, how you just wanted to just shove a hand over his snout to keep him from letting out such sexy noises. His raspy voice and the way his thumbs rubbed encouraging circles into your hips...it wasn't good for you. You'd cum faster at this rate.

"Faster," Lycaon suddenly ordered, opening one of his red eyes to look at you.

"I...I can't- Oh!" Your words caught in your throat when he suddenly fucked up into you. A squeal nearly leaving your throat as you shut your eyes tightly to try and force back that urge to cum.

"Disobeying a superior now Ms. Y/N?" One of his hands slowly dragged up your back before it gently shoved you forward a little. Immediately, you fixed your posture although you nearly fell back over a couple of times. "You should watch yourself, my type of punishment for this act won't be very fun."

You doubted that.

But, as your hands tightened on his shoulders and you fucked yourself more quicker onto him. Tears started to flow down your cheeks more easily as you couldn't deny the burning feeling in your stomach anymore, how the way Lycaon's dick throbbed inside of you and pressed against your most sensitive spots...the urge to beg him for the chance to cum, just once was on the tip of your tongue but you tried to stay focused. "Oh my God..." He moaned deeply.

"Fuckkk..."

"A-Are you close?" You whined.

He scoffed. "Not even close," You felt your hopes nearly crash and shatter at those words. "But...your pussy feels so good on my cock," He praised, his tail thumping against the couch unabashedly as he stared up at you with hooded eyes and a feral gaze. "Perhaps, instead of a maid, you should be my personal breeding toy."

His smirk grew when he felt your pussy tighten around his cock.

"Yeah?" He asked. "You like that?"

You shook your head, shutting your eyes tightly as if not seeing him would help your situation anyway. However, as you felt a furred hand cup the side of your face, the feeling of breaths hitting your face. Your eyes slowly cracked open to the wolf thiren's face right in front of yours, panting and moaning with little to no shame before he smiled. "So pretty like this Y/N..." He said before his leaned down to begin pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

Briefly, the thought of whether or not this was a part of the training flashed in the front of your mind. But...as quick as it came, it was gone. You wanted to believe that...he wasn't following some manual when it came to his actions, that they were meant just for you and you alone. "You're so wet, making so much noise...I think I was right in my earlier suggestion hm? Maybe you will do better as my toy."

You shook your head. "Don't lie." He lightly nipped your shoulder, the sharp sudden pain being just what you needed to throw you over the edge before...Lycaon's ears moved to the sound of gushing and the feeling of wetness splashing against his pants and a bit of his thighs.

Without a second thought, his fingers shot down to gather some of your cum onto his fingers before he tasted you, a groan rumbling out as he almost shocked himself with how fast he got hard again. But before he could mention it, much less suggest it, when Lycaon returned his gaze to you. He saw you passed out against his chest, the very sight making him laugh ever so quietly before he sighed.

He supposed he was feeling a touch bit generous...he expected you to cum within seconds of fucking yourself onto his cock but it took you longer than that! To the point, he actually began to worry about cumming first or not! Although he had a mind not to be, he decided to be generous and forgiving seeing as you fucked him until the point of total exhaustion on your point.

He'd give you a passing A+ for effort.

[chalkscene]

tears of themis ⇢ WOULD YOU KISS ME FOR $10 OR THE PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD FOR $700?

ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter

“i have a question,” you tell LUKE. he’s sat on the couch, playing some new video game which he immediately pauses to acknowledge you. “okay, shoot.” “would you kiss the prettiest girl in the world for 700 dollars or me for only 10 dollars?” before luke can school his features, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as memories from your childhood flash in his mind. ever since you were kids, you’ve always had the most random trivia and inquiries ready to share with him—his heart swells at the thought of you not having changed at all. going back to your question, luke normally would’ve been deep in thought searching for an answer but he’s always had it in him. so with loving eyes, he meets your expectant ones. “you know i’d kiss you for free.”

ARTEM looks up from his paperwork, paying you his undivided attention now. “come again?” you’re halfway through repeating the question when he cuts you off with a chuckle, “i heard you the first time.” you know he’s just too nice to dismiss you but if you spend another minute thinking about your case, you’re going to lose your mind. “so, what’s your answer?” “i’d kiss you,” he replies without skipping a beat and his lips curl into a smile. you mirror his expression before glancing at the door then back at your boyfriend. “can you kiss me now?” you pout, “i need motivation.” artem shakes his head at your antics but he adores them. he gets up from his seat en route to your side of the office, leaning in to grant your request when celestine barges into the room, “artem- oh.” artem immediately straightens up and clears his throat as he takes a step back from your desk, “yes?” whatever celestine’s come to see him for is soon forgotten, clearly enjoying the sight she walked into. the whole firm knows about your relationship with artem so you remain unfazed—unlike stellis’ notable lawyer whose cheeks are blushing furiously, unable to meet your colleague in the eye.

“missed your pretty face,” MARIUS says in greeting the moment you open the door. half an hour ago, he called to let you know he was on his way to your apartment. now here he is, leaning in for a kiss which is immediately followed by a sigh of pleasure at the feeling of your mouth on his. “you say that as if i’m not your lockscreen,” you tease when you pull away. “i can’t kiss my phone though.” he winks then dips his head lower for another peck but you stop him with a finger over his lips. marius’ eye brows shoot up in surprise, coaxing a giggle out of you. with a cheeky smile, you ask, “would you kiss me for 10 dollars or the prettiest girl in the world for 700 dollars?” “what kinda question is that?” he scoffs and rolls his eyes at its absurdity before his familiar cockiness once again takes over his features. “miss, i’d pay to kiss you.”

“is something on your mind?” VYN’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts—well, thought. you’ve had this random question plaguing your brain for a while now. “what is it?” vyn asks again. “well…” you begin, trying to form the words before you utter them, “i was curious…” “go on.” “would you kiss me for 10 dollars or the prettiest girl in the world for 700 dollars?” vyn doesn’t respond right away, blinking at you as he is momentarily dumbfounded. but it’s not long before you sense the gears in his mind turning. you’re not sure if it’s due to the nature of his job as a psychiatrist but vyn is never not thinking—you truly believe he’s actually taking the question seriously. soon enough, he gives you his answer. “my rose,” he says as he tenderly takes your hand in his, “your kisses are priceless.”

[winterwandersland]

The Box Pt. 1 (18+)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader cw: fluff, humor, mention of drugs word count: 1.5k Reader has a crook in her neck

You had been walking around the house, your neck stiff as a board. Every time you turned it to one side, it felt like it might break the more you turned it. Any time you needed to turn your head, you just turned your body or turned your head just enough to use your peripheral vision.

You were putting away your clean clothes in your drawers when you heard the door open. You knew exactly who it was, but unfortunately, you couldn’t move enough to exclaim your true excitement.

“Simon! You’re back!” you exclaimed as if he wasn’t just there twenty minutes ago. He had only gone to the store to get you both ice cream to watch a movie.

But that didn’t matter.

You were always excited to see him.

You jumped onto him as you normally would, and he caught you in his arms. You always fell perfectly around his waist, his arms locking below your thighs. “Hey, love,” he said, giving you a kiss. “I got ice cream.”

“What kind?” you asked him, knowing he would never get anything other than the usual unless it was requested.

“The kind you like,” he said, knowing you already knew the answer to the question.

He put you down and you told him you would be ready shortly. You just had to finish putting up the clothes. He watched you move differently than you normally would. As he helped you to speed up the process, he noticed that something was wrong.

“Why are you moving like that?” he asked you, genuinely concerned for your well-being. You turned to him as normally as you could without hurting yourself. Your hands were on your hips, trying to play everything off.

“What do you mean?” you responded, doing your best to look innocent. He knew you knew exactly what he meant. You would’ve had him fooled if you weren’t missing your signature head tilt during your inquiry.

“Why are you so…stiff?” he asked, now examining you even more. “I’m not stiff,” you lied.

That was your first lie.

“Turn your head,” he said. You did as you were told, except you turned it to the only side you could without causing yourself any pain. “The other way,” he said, growing more demanding. You turned your head as much as you could, but it was obvious that side wasn’t as mobile as the other.

“You’re in pain,” he said like it was a matter of fact. And yes, you were. But it was normal for people to get a crook in their neck now and then. You probably just slept wrong. “It’s just a crook in my neck,” you confessed. “I’ll be fine.”

He took both of his hands, cupping your face, both of his thumbs on your jawbone. “Let me see,” he said. He tilted your head from side to side until he saw you wince at the pain. You could’ve sworn your neck was about to break or a neck bone would slip out of place. “I’m fine. I swear.”

Another lie.

“How long?” he asked you, trying to find the pinpoint of the pain in your neck. You told him since this morning which nearly sent the man into a spiral. “And you didn’t say nothin’?”

“It wasn’t that bad, and I thought it would go away.” You really did think it would have gone away by now, but it had only gotten worse throughout the day. At least this morning, you still had a full range of motion in your neck.

He finally found your source of pain once he pressed down on a specific part of the back of your neck with his thumb. Your immediate reaction told him all he needed to know. Simon walked over to the bed, positioning himself in the middle of it. You watched him as he sat, still fully clothed, only his shoes and balaclava removed. “Come,” he said, motioning you over to him. You did as you were told and he gently guided your head to his lap, positioning you to face him as you laid down.

He placed his hand around your throat, using his thumb to massage the stubborn notch in the back of your head. You enjoyed his warmth. His comfort. Every moment you spent with him was like a moment in heaven. There needn’t be any words exchanged. If he kept this up, you’d be asleep, forgetting about the movie and the pain in your neck.

So, you did the only thing you could do to stay in the moment,

Speak.

“I have a question,” you said. He rolled his eyes, knowing any time you said that a flow of nonsense would spew out of your mouth. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. “Oh boy,” he commented.

“If you did a line of cocaine right now-,” you started. “What the fuck?” he said, cutting you off. You playfully pushed him, complaining that he didn’t let you finish. He sighed, letting you know he was listening. “If you did a line of cocaine right now, how many laps around your base do you think you could run? And it’s like, a good decent line of coke. Like not too thick but not too thin, you know?”

“No. I don’t know,” he replied. He was amused, a slight grin going across his face. If you actually looked closely, it looked like he was actually contemplating his answer as he massaged your neck, despite the fact he would never do such a thing. Not only would he be kicked out of the military, but he’d lose everything he had, including you. “I’m waiting,” you pushed.

“None,” he said. You were confused. None? Simon Riley? Not being able to do any laps around base? Impossible.

“None? Why,” you inquired. You thought he would say because he wouldn’t do coke, but you were wrong.

He went on to explain how cocaine increases your heart and blood pressure, so if he were running, it would increase so much that he’d have a heart attack before he could finish the lap. You did say “run” not “jog”.

It was quite an interesting answer, but you begged to differ.

He continued the pressured massaging of your neck with his thumb. You were surprised it hadn’t given out yet from as much pressure he was putting on it. Your neck was starting to feel better already, but you wanted him to continue. You distracted him with an answer of your own.

“Interesting. I’d think I could do at least three,” you confidently said. You had been on his base a few times. Surely, you could run it at least once, but you said three just to add more to your self-esteem.

Simon raised an eyebrow, surprised at your answer. “And why is that?” he asked, interested in your explanation that he had a feeling would only make sense to you. “I don’t know. I just feel like with enough coke in my system, if I felt like I was having a heart attack, I could just tell it to stop.”

He chuckled, his leg slightly moving under you. You laughed with him, but you were serious about your answer. “That’s not how that works,” he said between laughs. It was surely how it worked in your head. You explained to him how you felt like after doing cocaine, you felt you would have a level of control and consciousness over your body that someone who was sober wouldn’t. He laughed even more.

It may not be how it worked, but that’s just how you imagined it, and it made perfect sense to you. “You have a very interesting brain,” he told you. And you did. The way you connected topics that wouldn’t make sense to the majority of the population, but somehow it still made sense at the same time, was fascinating to him. Whenever he had a bad day, he knew it wouldn’t last long once he got to talk to you, whether it be over the phone or once he walked through the doors of your shared home.

While you two continued to talk about the most absurd topics, he realized you were moving a bit more fluidly now. He asked you if your neck still hurt and you told him it did.

Another lie.

Fortunately for him, a branch hit the window, making you snap your neck in response, not a wince in sight. Unfortunately for you, he noticed. Meaning you had broken the number one rule.

No lying.

“Are you sure?” he asked, this time trying to see if you would lie again.

If he had been counting since the beginning, this would be your fourth lie because you told him you were sure. You saw the look in his eyes turn dark, and you knew you were in for a night of trouble.

Pt. 2

Written bc I had a crook in my neck yesterday and no one to tend to it

credit to @finnegancosmos for the divider that I will now be using on my shorts.

[shookuna]

m. fushiguro x gn!reader - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

a/n: another lil piece for a moot!! the loveliest ever @meguemii !! emiiiiiii i know u have been feeling a lil down recently so i thot a lil fic might cheer u up !!!! take this silly drabble w/ ur husband, pls enjoy him !!

just some dumb bf megumi, established relationship, megumi is a little mean in this but he doesn't mean it <3 cw: slight angst :(( bc megumi does not know how to Emote. but ends happily :))

wc: ~1.4k

"would you still love me if i was a worm?"

you ask out of the blue, rousing your boyfriend from whatever he was looking at on his phone. it's a typical night in for the two of you - take-out from your all-time favorite restaurant, cuddles, and a movie. it was his turn to pick tonight, and with no better ideas, he settled on some high-budget action flick that gojo-sensei had recommended.

"...pardon?" megumi asks slowly, his voice barely audible over the sound of swords clashing on the tv. he's facing you now with the most dumbfounded stare on his pretty face. surely, he must have misheard you. over the course of your relationship, you've asked him some pretty fucking stupid things ("if you were starving, would you eat me? like, what if i said it was okay.") but this might take the cake.

"you heard me. would you still love me if i was a worm?" you repeat, undeterred by the way he balks at the question. you could have just as well told him you thought the sky was green with the way he's looking at you like you have three heads.

"is this some sort of test?" megumi asks, furrowing his brows at you in mild frustration. he was still reeling from the time you asked him if he thought water was wet, which sparked an hours long debate. the sensible answer of "yes? it's water?" was not satisfactory for you, apparently, as you took it upon yourself to consult yuuji and nobara for their opinions. by the end of the night, all four of you were embroiled in a heated argument, with no one showing any signs of backing down. it was only when megumi suggested a truce that you all begrudgingly agreed, and the discussion finally ceased. having witnessed the extent of your stubbornness firsthand, megumi was in no hurry to see it again.

"no," you respond, stretching out the last syllable. "it's just a question. one i expect you to answer. would you still love me if i were a worm?"

megumi stares at you for a bit longer, his mouth opening and closing as he processes your inquiry. he'd gotten used to your weird antics, for the most part, but there were still times where you left him speechless, for better and for worse. he eventually settles on asking you "are you a worm?" in an attempt to assess your sanity.

"no, 'gumi," you roll your eyes, puffing your cheeks out at him. he could be so difficult when it came to providing reassurance, even in this roundabout way. "in this scenario, i'm asking you whether you'd love me if i was a worm. like, imagine i just got turned into a worm, all of a sudden." you clarify, which only serves to make megumi look even more hopelessly confused.

"i mean..." he starts, before hesitating when he sees the gleam of hope in your eyes. with his next words, he sees it die before his very eyes. "...no? obviously not?"

"obviously?!" you cry out indignantly, making megumi's brow furrows further. "what's so obvious about it?"

"i mean... i'm still a human in this... scenario, yes?" he asks, to which you grumble, "assuming you're human now, yes."

"okay, so i'm human, and you're a worm." he deadpans. when you still look at him expectantly, he adds, "that speaks for itself, really." the casual indifference in his voice wounds you even further.

"well, so what? i get turned into a worm, and that's it? you just stop loving me?" you protest, growing more animated as you speak.

"i don't foresee you turning into a worm anytime soon," megumi mumbles boredly, turning his attention back to his phone. he was prepared to dismiss the discussion entirely, to get on with your night and continue to ignore the laughably bad movie on the screen in front of you. when you actually pause the movie, he realizes that's not happening anytime soon. "what'd you do that for?"

"like you were even watching it," you scoff, before rising from your seat on the couch, "i just, i can't believe you would stop loving me just because i was a worm."

"just because you were a worm?" megumi parrots, raising his brow at you as he sits up straighter. "you can't say it so casually, like you're just getting a new haircut, or something." he attempted to reason with you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "you'd be a worm. we couldn't even communicate."

"i never said that!" you huff exasperatedly, and megumi just stares blankly at you. "i could, you know, spell messages out for you with leaves, and stuff..." you mumble under your breath, making him roll his eyes. "what?!"

"isn't it enough that i love you now?" he sighs deeply, attempting to appeal to your logical sensibilities. his words make your heart catch in your throat, and you can't help but avert your eyes away from his always piercing gaze. you knew it was stupid, to get genuinely upset at his answer to a question that had started as just a silly hypothetical. but sometimes, even though you knew megumi loved you deep down, you found it hard to reconcile his true feelings with his outward actions towards you. maybe he didn't have to love you if you were a worm, fine. but sometimes it felt like he might not love you now.

when you remain silent before him, megumi's eyes widen. shit. he didn't mean to hurt your feelings. how many times had this exact scenario happened before? where you were left to reassure yourself about megumi's love for you, when the man couldn't do it himself? you didn't deserve that. megumi knew it. "you... you do know i love you, right?"

more silence.

and then, even worse. tears.

your tears, sliding down your pretty face even as you attempt to blink them away. "i-i know, 'gumi," you let out a shaky breath, your voice scarcely above a whisper. "i know you love me. sometimes i just... i don't feel like you do." you say honestly, attempting to convey the depths of your feelings to the at times emotionally constipated man. luckily, your emotions in this moment require no further explanation.

"i... i know." megumi whispers out, in a voice so defeated that you can feel the little piece of your heart as it breaks for him. "it's just... hard, for me, sometimes, to..." he shifts in his seat, searching for the perfect words to put your mind at ease and coming up empty. "...to be honest with you, i guess. or, rather... to be honest with myself. about what i feel for you. about how much.. i love you.

"to admit that i'd... love you no matter what. even... even if you were a worm," megumi pauses and chuckles quietly when your face lights up, before continuing, "...it would force me to confront the fact that... yes, i would always love you. no matter what. and if one day, you woke up and fell out of love, if you realized you can do better than being with me, if you left... when you walk out the door..." he trails off, his eyes getting glassy as he casts his gaze down to the floor. "...you'd be taking a piece of me with you. a piece i don't think i could ever get back."

the air is heavy with the weight of his confession, and now it's your turn to stare at him with wide, dumbfounded eyes. you'd been dating for a while now, and he's told you he loved you before, but you'd never seen him like this. so vulnerable, his emotions spilling out as he threatened to come apart at the seams.

megumi wouldn't blame you if this was the moment that pushed you to walk out. after all, now, you had seen him at his lowest. his most weak. he certainly didn't expect you to fall in love even deeper after witnessing him in such a state.

but that's exactly what you did.

he nearly jumps in surprise when you throw yourself into his lap, draping your arms around his neck. "oh, 'gumi," you mumble, and the tenderness with which you say your little nickname for him has his heart racing in his chest.

"...i knew you'd love me if i was a worm."

© shookuna ! plus megumi header edited by me <33

[sunboki]

⎯ PAPER PLANES a Kim Seungmin fiction

🛩️ : Kim Seungmin x gn. reader

TROPE. friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff fluff fluff galore

WORD COUNT. 1.5k!!

WARNINGS. cursing

AUG'S NOTES. still crazy about this concept💀 … i wrote this in 30 minutes in complete silence.. the demons have possessed me…

SYNOPSIS. Life in the city has never been as interesting as this. More specifically starting the moment your newest neighborhood, Kim Seungmin, moved in next door.

or alternatively :

It was only a matter of time before those paper airplanes turned into something more.

City nights are your greatest escapade and your worst nightmare. When insomnia plagues you awake, it’s easy to turn off all your fans and just listen.

New York isn’t called the city that never sleeps for no reason.

Whether it’s the faint honking of a car or the nearest nightclubs obnoxiously loud stereo, 24 hours a day almost every day of the year this city’s eyes remain open, and in essence, it makes you feel a tad bit better about those sleepless nights.

There’s the buzz of your surroundings, but as for your apartment complex, things are pretty quiet.

Well, you did intentionally choose a very much elderly-occupied residency after all.

Until somebody else showed up, somebody who didn’t explain to you on a morning basis of how they’re deciding on their casket.

And he sings.

Headed back from work up the elevator was when you ran into him for the first time. A smidge taller than yourself, puffy hair hanging over his forehead.

Neither of you talked apart from the courtesy “Which floor are you going to?” followed by an equally courteous “Five”, and you realizing you were both headed to the same place.

Elevators are a dangerous place. Anything could go wrong, technical issues, you end up trapped, weird strangers, and a myriad of unfortunate events waiting to happen. What’s worse? The conversations.

Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from the decades worth of elevators you’ve been on is that they’re either a place to never stop talking or never talk.

As for this discovered neighbor of yours, you spend a solid thirty seconds deciding the right course of action.

“So where’d you move from?” You pique, watching the numbers atop the door slowly increase.

“South Korea,” He responds, and out of the corner of your eye you notice him glancing at you, hands stuffed in his puffer coat’s pockets.

Mouth opening to speak, you immediately close it, evidently surprised. To think how hellish the flight must’ve been humbled you instantly, not to mention how he carried no accent when conversing.

But before you could ask any more questions the doors open and he wordlessly slips past you, leaving you to silently follow.

“Wait!” Calling out prior to him walking through the door, he stops, turning to you with a confused expression adorning delicate features.

“What’s your name?” You voice another inquiry, hand also fastened onto the doorknob.

He blinks, the action scarily resembling a puppy dog.

“Seungmin. Kim Seungmin.”

Seungmin.

Cute.

“Y/n, nice to meet you.” Nodding politely his way, he returns the gesture, a sudden unwelcoming awkwardness creeping further into your skin the longer you both stand there, staring at each other.

And of course your genius of a mind decides to open its big fat mouth.

“..I guess we’re neighbors, huh.”

No shit sherlock, You internally reprimand, wishing oh so badly to leap out of the nearest window.

Sucking his teeth, Seungmin hums agreeably, and you feel like the stupidest person in the world.

“Yeah well, bye!” Panickedly twisted the knob and racing inside to slam the door behind you, you sink to the ground, clutching your head pathetically.

“Y/n…” You whine, addressing yourself like a lunatic. There’s a heavy sigh, a leaning your head back, thumping against the wooden frame.

“…What the fuck is wrong with you.”

Nonetheless, the night you first heard his voice pitch through gleaming neon signs was one to remember.

Typing manically on your keyboard while a half-empty glass of watered down coffee occupied the space beside you, you squint, scrutinizing that same sentence at least a dozen times before ripping the headphones off your ears and raising up frustratedly.

This essay is definitely earning a rightful spot on your thirteen reasons why list, a close second to your first impression on Seungmin last week.

Stretching your arms above your head, you hear it. An entrancing, melodic tone sifting beneath your cracked window, decorating your bedroom in a decadent assortment of color.

Carefully tiptoeing to pry open the window fully, you crane, cheek pressed against cold glass.

It’s Seungmin. Face tipped to the side, lips halfway parted. You don’t know if he’s focused on something or what, but you know he’s the only thing that matters in this moment.

His vibrato, the way he perfectly slices notes into harmonious rhythm pulls you in like a hummingbird to nectar.

You find yourself aimlessly standing there, rocking back and forth of your heels, savoring the effortlessly sweet relief he fills your exhausted soul with.

Day after day he’d sing, voice never ceasing to calm your senses, as if supernatural, into a lulling drone. No thoughts, just him.

Occasionally it’d be a new tune, one familiar, one not. Over and over and over again you’d routinely wait for him, like a child rushing to see their favorite cartoon.

And as a result, Seungmin became one of your biggest sources of comfort without either of you knowing it.

Today is the day.

Reaching over as far as you can muster with the makeshift paper airplane held tightly, you attempt at reading the wind, trying to decipher the best time to launch this secret weapon of yours.

Well, not really secret (somewhat), and also not a weapon, but you get the picture.

This morning you’d taken tedious measures to ensure your innovative paper airplane note would successfully fly, especially since the note inside was just as innovative.

𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐. Was what it read, and you thought the compliment was pretty appropriate considering how often you’d admire his mellowed tunes in the eve.

Except, the first one was a fail, then the second one, and a third, and by the forth airplane you had paper-cuts all over your hands and a temper teetering on the brink of defeat.

Hey, at least three people today (almost four) would get a “I like your singing” note today.

Whoosh! Your note flies, and just when you begin to lose hope does it switch trajectories, successfully hitting his balcony’s screen door.

To say you shouted was an understatement. Hell, the entirety of New York likely heard your chanting, yelling, and the entourage of oddly proud noises in between.

Noises of which were quickly muted upon said screen door opening, to where you frantically drop down, peering between the chair’s legs to observe his reaction.

Seungmin glances around repeatedly, curiously, prior to peeling back paper folds.

You inhale sharply.

His eyes graze over the sentence, investigating his surroundings again.

No reaction.

You initially deflate, grumbling to yourself defeatedly.

Until a tiny sliver of hope peeks through dark curtains.

Seungmin smiles.

He covers his mouth (an action you don’t understand but start to considering how dazzlingly bright it is), and laughs. A soft laugh that has his shoulders shaking, corner of his eyes wrinkling into charming crescent moons.

You swear there’s a ring of sparkling light outlining him, like something out of a K-Drama.

His smile could (and should) win an award, you’re convinced.

And just like that he disappears back into his apartment, and you chant a nonstop “Oh my god!” a good thirty-six times, unable to contain the feather-light feeling spreading from your fingertips to the very tip of your toes.

Cute. Kim Seungmin was so, so cute.

From the sheepish grins he gives you each time he’s seen you since, you have a hunch he knows it was you who sent the note, but you choose to act oblivious.

Oblivious, before you received a note of your own.

Of course, Kim Seungmin’s paper airplane is perfect, aerodynamic and probably arrived on the first throw unlike your consecutive sacrifices.

Slowly shuffling open the response, you peek through hesitant fingers, slapping a hand over your gaping mouth upon witnessing his obviously perfect handwriting.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 :) , It reads. Something so mundane and proper there’s no reason you should be losing your mind, but you are, and the rattling of your heartbeat serves the best explanation.

You make sure to hang the note up afterward, right above your laptop.

So over the next few days, the both of you become more daring, more adventurous. Two paper airplanes turn into four, four to eight, eight to eleven. By now there’s not enough room to hang all of them up.

Meaningless conversations. Asking about dinner plans, what you’re currently doing, what your favorite hobbies are, favorite songs. But yet, they mean so much to you.

Your own, childish way of communicating even though the mature, adult reply would be to knock on his door.

Although, he seems to love it as much as you do.

𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? Is scribbled on the airplane he’d sent a few minutes ago.

𝙽𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚢? You write quickly onto one, hands nimbly constructing the shape after sending so many. Routine.

Returning to stirring the pot of boiling water in front of you, a familiar tap alerts you, padding over to grasp his letter.

Strangely, a part of you grows more and more excited, plopping down into your chair to gradually take apart his craftsmanship.

Your legs move before you can even register your own feelings, scrambling outside.

Seungmin’s there, breathtaking smile as brilliant as ever despite such dim lighting.

There’s no need to admit you’ve been sending them now. Especially not from the way he gazed at you, the words inscribed on that paper airplane.

𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

He bites back an even bigger grin, cheeks dusting rosy pink from the cold air.

Yes.

Absolutely yes.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[puella-peanut]

Teenage tramp Daniel has the hots for handyman Kreese lmao. Thots?

Gorgeous, seventeen year old neighborhood tramp Daniel LaRusso is…mad. Big Mad to be exact. 

It’s all because his attempts at seducing the local, rugged, handsome neighborhood handyman have…fallen flat. Failed to lift off. Closed on opening night. Houston, we have a problem, and his name is John Kreese. 

Thing is, Daniel’s gone all out. Taken out all the big guns. Brought out the big, flashy, show-stopping numbers. He’s been coy, coquettish. An innocent and not-so-innocent tease. Sweet and shy. Sassy and spunky. A bonafide ingenue to the Lolita of the Valley, and all around the block and back again! 

Jeeze, he’s never worked this hard for a lay in his life!

See now—he’s worn his tiny band crop tops. His tiny tank-tops cut to show plump, caramel nipples. His even tinier, cut off jean-shorts that hardly leave anything to the imagination. 

He’s boosted himself up on the front of John’s battered Ford pickup, just to criss-cross those long, bare, coltish legs of his. Straddled (and stolen) ladders John’s been using while he works, to display parted, slender thighs. (And show off how limber he is. How…flexible.) Reached up to grab at nothing on his toes to show off a waist so small and trim that a pair of (large, callused, rough) masculine hands could span oh-so-easily. He’s bent himself over convenient surfaces—countertops, couches, tables, wobbly banisters and kiddie coloring tables for crying out loud!—to show off his sweet, juicy ass. The lush cheeks that spill out. The roundness of it all. 

He’s brushed up against John, sat touching him knee-to-knee, fallen across him “accidentally”, faked a sprained ankle in the hopes of a bridal-carry, and still—still goddammit!!—John hasn’t paid him any attention!! Not the slightest bit. 

All Daniel has gotten in return is: ‘Hey, you’re in my way.’ To, ‘Put some clothes on, Prima Donna, it’s January, and your sneezing is unhygienic.’ And even a, ‘Join the Service, kid. That’ll whip some sense into you.’

Ugh. 

Ugh. Ugh. Ughhhh. 

…Why, by this time with his other conquests, he’d gotten railed twice over! All stupid, annoying, teenage boys; simple schoolboy, after-school flings to pass the time. Like that total brain-dead bimbo Johnny, or violent karate bad-boy Mike. To foreign exchange student Chozen, followed by future sociopath Dutch. A real slick wannabe named Ponytail got him next, then sweet preacher’s boy Bobby. Jimmy and Tommy had tag teamed him after, and then finally that dorky piano nerd, rich-boy Twig (he’d gotten real maid service, a night in a mansion, and breakfast in bed for that one!). Between all of them, Daniel had gotten laid in six months more than some people did in an entire year! Lifetime even! Yeah, yeah, the lays themselves didn’t rank too high on the scale of one to ten (some far lower than others!)—but a fucking was a fucking, and he had been sixteen and desperately horny. Besides it had been summer, and California had made it too hot to be too fussy. 

…Except that now he is, because there is something about this Kreese that gets him all hot and bothered. Something about those sinewy, hairy, muscular arms. That solid, sturdy body. The heavy booted footsteps. The worn jeans and faded flannel. The fluffy, sandy hair (and matching, coarse stubble). The hairy, broad, hard chest. The squareness of his jaw, the strapping height. The surprising brightness of his blue eyes. The sudden, rare smiles. The fact that he is older, is an adult. A full grown man. That he can do anything to Daniel, and, smitten boy that he is, he’d let him. 

Yeah, Daniel wants him like one would want a cool drink on a hot day. He has it bad. But things have to get worse before they get better, right? And all fevers must run their course. 

And boy, what a fever this is!

(And may he never recover!)

…

Meanwhile, our John has indeed been stoic in the little tease’s presence—but, thing is, the moment he’s alone, tucked away safe in his bed or in the shower or even that one time in his kitchen for fuck’s sake—John has spent nearly every spare minute in his day jacking off furiously. Getting his sheets, tiles—even kitchen countertop—all sticky with jizz like he was fifteen again, and had seen a pair of breasts for the first time in a dirty magazine. (But those thoughts of his former teenage fantasies have nothing on the centerfold that is LaRusso.)

And, damn it, he spends far too much of his day dreaming about that full, red mouth. The glossy, floppy hair. Those long-lashed big brown eyes. The perky brown nipples, the slightest swell of the soft chest on that tiny, fragile body. The endless, shapely legs. The endless, tan skin. The endless smoothness of it. The curve of that plump ass. The bounce it had, the little tormenting jiggle when the boy walked with a spring in his step. The sweet little puckered cunt hidden between those slim thighs. How it would drip and spill and gush out all that John has to give the little shit. Is dying to. 

Oh, John’s got a calendar counting down the days until the boy is legal, until he’s all of eighteen and the law can’t save him—and then John’s gonna fuck him into submission, rail him into obedience. Pound that tight, juicy, boypussy raw until LaRusso can’t think for how good John’s giving it to him. 

And then he’s gonna make the little shit his, because fuck it all—the little Italian brat has made him fall for his charms big time.

Only a matter of time kid, John thinks later, watching the boy work his bag of tricks with a stoic, calm expression. Though he all but grins (inwardly) when the boy fumes in frustration at his non-reaction.

Just you wait, Prima Donna, John promises.

You’re mine. 

[m30wk1ttycat]

early bird

pairing: newt x reader summary: you, the glade's newest arrival, end up cuddling with newt, because he won't let you sleep on the floor.

the box arrived early. too early. when the door/ceiling opened, it was dark outside. you could barely see anything. and on top of that, you had no clue where you were, who you were, how you got here. as much as you tried to remember what was happening, there was nothing. literally nothing.

you could only imagine the look on your face when you heard someone's voice. "hey, are you okay?" the person asked, extending his hand for you to grab.

you nod. but how okay can you really be when you're stuck in some sort of elevator, in the dark, in an unknown place?

letting go of the person's hand, you look around. in the dark, you could barely see anything, but you could still make out giant walls covered with thick ivy. "i know you're confused - i promise, i'll explain everything," the person said again. it was only now that you noticed his british accent. the boy before you looked to be sixteen/seventeen years old, his blonde hair tousled and sticking out in awkward places - which looked quite silly -, his dark eyes barely open.

"who are you? where am i? what's going on?" you ask. judging by the look on his face, he didn't seem to be in the mood for your questions. he ran a tired hand through his hair before answering your inquiries.

"i'm newt, the second-in-command here. this-" he gestured with his hand, "-is the glade. you're safe, i promise. here, at least."

with a sigh, he looked at you again, unsure how to continue. he put his hands on his hips, explaining that the box - as they, the gladers, called the elevator you found yourself in - came up too early, and that it malfunction. thus, why no one else was around. the others were asleep, which made you feel even more nervous - there were others? now you weren't sure what was supposed to upset you more - the fact that the box malfunctioned or that there were other people here?

"what do you mean it malfunctioned?" you asked.

"there's always a loud alarm, about half an hour before the box with the greenie actually arrives. but today, it didn't," he explained, "greenies are what we call the newbies."

newt ended up explaining the most important things that you should know - about the maze, the jobs, the people you should or shouldn't interact with.

he offered to let you sleep in his hut, since it was still only four am, and he wasn't planning on letting you sleep on the floor. you didn't tell him no - it more of an "are you sure?" to which he responded with "i wouldn't be asking if i wasn't sure, greenie." you weren't exactly familiar with glader slang, it was still confusing. but all things aside, you two ended up wrapped around eachother in his hammock. you were comfortable, so was he.

he was so close to falling asleep again, but he tried to stay awake just so he could answer all your questions.

"so, what does the second-in-command do?"

"basically the same thing the first-in-command does, only that the second-in-command is his number two," he said.

"who's the first-in-command again?" you ask, confused.

"alby. you'll meet him in the morning," newt answered, desperately trying to keep his eyes open.

"and there's.. fourty-ish boys here?"

"you really like asking questions, don't you?" he turned to look at you, his eyes half-lidded. "go to sleep. i'll answer everything in the morning. i don't have the energy for this. please." you nod, turning away from him. he tugged you closer to him, his arm draped over your waist just like before. before he could even manage to blink, you drifted off to sleep.

in the morning, when most of the gladers were awake, it was just you and newt who were still inside, probably sleeping. newt never missed breakfast, so minho went to wake him up - just like he woke up the runners incase they overslept -, only to see newt watching over you, you snuggled up against him. newt looked like he didn't get an ounce of sleep.

"newt," minho called out from the entrance to his hut. newt was already awake when minho entered, shooting a glare in his way. "no. go away," newt grumbled.

"alby was looking for you, just sayin'," minho said. you were still asleep, newt's arms around you like a teddy bear.

"alby can wait," newt said. "now, go. thank you."

minho rolled his eyes, walking off, without even questioning why the hell newt was cuddling someone who he's never seen in the glade. it'll be fun seeing newt explain what was going on to alby after you woke up.

newt is cranky when he doesn't enough sleep. don't tell me he isn't.

[johnbrand]

The Commander's Office

With @mrrharper

“Don’t move.”

All four guns were pointed directly at the meek lieutenant. He had been trying to escape for days, sensing something was wrong on the base. But he found no means to leave, nothing that would not end up with him sitting in the commander’s office.

“This is 27, reporting a deviant in the southwest quadrant of the base,” the second on the left spoke into his transceiver, his weapon still pointed at the miscreant.

“Confirm location and officers,” a gravelly voice responded back.

“Located near the far end of the barracks, sir.” The officer’s voice was deep and dull, lacking any of the energy it once held less than 24 hours earlier. “Flanked by 18, 23, and 4.”

The lieutenant fought back his tears of fear, trying not to admit that it was already too late. The commander of the base had been dissatisfied with the newest batch of recruits. Deeply dissatisfied. He had openly remarked that their group of 30 had been one of the military’s “biggest disasters since Pearl Harbor.” This remark had been based on what the commander believed was a lack of discipline, patriotism, conservative ideology, and breeder instincts. What he termed "made men men."

“What are your orders, sir? How would you like us to dispose of the nuisance?” the third officer, 23, asked.

“I like that my officers show some initiative,” the voice chuckled through the other end. “The deviant can be delivered directly to my office. All of you can escort him.”

“Are you sure, sir?” 4, the farthest right, confirmed. “There are still two more loose on the base.” Before all this, 4 had protested the commander’s scalding, anti-progressive sentiments, even promising to deliver a quote to his politician boyfriend.

“Is that an inquiry about my plan, officer?"

4 immediately straightened at the questioning of his obedience, "Sir! No, sir! The plan's not up for debate, sir."

“You’re here to obey orders,” the commander reminded. “Not question them.”

“Sir, yes sir!” they all chanted back.

After the commander had made his viewpoints on the new recruits clear, he had begun work on assuring that each of the soldiers met his requirements. One by one, they were privately called into a meeting with the commander. There seemed to be no order, no pattern to his selection. And no one knew what went on during that session. However, once the recruit left the room, they left their identity behind as well.

“The deviant will be in your office in a ten minutes, sir.” 18’s rigidity was the most frightening of all to the shivering lieutenant, who was being picked up off the ground while his hands were cuffed behind him. The lieutenant could remember when they were in bed together on one of their first nights at the base, their bodies held tight by the cot not meant for two individuals. 

Before, 18 had been soft, sensitive, and adorned a sleek runner’s build. Now he embodied a corn-fed American bull, with the gruffness and traditional mindset to accompany it. 18 even had a name before all this, but the lieutenant could not place it in his head. They had all had names when they had entered the base, but those too were left behind in the commander’s office. Instead, their new identities were given to them by the order in which they had transitioned.

“P…p…please,” the lieutenant sputtered, but he was immediately silenced by a forceful hit to his back by the butt of a gun.

“Quiet, faggot!” one of them barked. All of their voices had the same pitch in lower register, the same unremarkable quality, that the lieutenant could not discern who spoke to him. “It is our duty to defend the law and spread order throughout as the commander orders.”

It was like they were speaking in code, a direct program that had been installed into them.

“The commander encourages us to expand upon our American traditions,” another recited. The group had now entered the main building on the base. The lieutenant could feel his heartbeat racing a bit more with every step.“Our cooperation leads to a better, stronger military.”

He did not want to be brainwashed by right-wing propaganda. He did not want to become another huge, masculine machine spreading American values. He did not want to become a mindless, breeding soldier.

But the door quietly locked behind him. The lieutenant turned to face his commander. His eyes were wide with alarm and dread and horror.

“Take a seat, soldier. This won’t take long.”

[weepingwillowwonder]

Horny Hazbin Hotel Thoughts: NSFW AHEAD [Minors DNI! 🔞] -> -> ->

This is Vox/Val's PART 2!!! (Here's part 1 if ya missed it <3)

Reactions to Shy!Reader asking to have sex/initiating sex

CW: Embarrassment/humiliation, Dry humping, Dirty talk, GN!Reader but wears a skirt & panties, Pet names. Oral Sex

Translations: 

Muy bien = Very good Sientete = Sit down Cariño = Sweetheart  Sigue adelante = Keep going Eso es todo = That’s it Pequeño perrito = Little Puppy Tan lindo = So cute

Your lip trembles as you finally answer, “I just wanted daddy that’s all!” you sob out, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down. Valentino hushes you, murmuring soft praises to you. “Muy bien baby..” He holds your cheek, which makes you lean into his touch, then glances up to Vox who’s watching intently, palming himself through his pants. “I understand now why you chose this one…” Valentino pulls you up into his lap and mischievously smirks, looking at Vox, “Since your little toy wants to play, you wouldn’t mind me having a turn would you?” Vox mimics his smile, “By all means…”

~~~

Valentino positions you to face him, pulling you to sit right over his thigh. The unexpected pressure of him between your legs makes you grunt softly, your body automatically shying away from the stimulation. As you lift yourself slightly from him, his fingers press into your hips to firmly pull you back down. 

“Sientete, baby, sit.” He murmurs, forcing you to relax against his thigh despite your sounds of protest. Unsure exactly where to put them, your hands settle on his chest and he gives you a soft hum in approval. “There you go cariño, relax for me~” his praise goes straight to your core and he chuckles as you wiggle slightly against his thigh with a soft gasp. You will yourself to stay still, despite the delicious ache that makes you want to shamelessly grind yourself against him. However, he seems to sense your hesitation and presses his thigh firmly between your legs in time with his hands that guide you to move against him.

“Ah, w-wait!” You whimper out as he effortlessly maneuvers you against his thigh, your forehead coming forward to rest on his chest to hide your embarrassment. You hear Valentino light a cigarette above you, but miss the way he heatedly looks down at your form, face hidden from view.

“Mm Voxy, as I was saying earlier…” He starts, easily picking up on their previous conversation regarding work. Other than seemingly disregarding you, he continues to guide you along his thigh, ignoring your soft pants and the way your thighs twitch and squeeze around his own. The two demons act almost as if you hadn’t spent more than the past few moments being humiliated by them. Almost. 

You can practically feel the heat of Vox’s gaze on you from your position, even with your back to him. He responds to Valentino’s inquiries, outwardly coming across as unaffected by the explicit display in front of him. While Vox would never put you in such a publicly accessible position, for any outsiders looking in, it would appear as if you were the only one affected by the current circumstances. 

The more you’re dragged along Valentino’s thigh, the more you feel your resolve slipping. The conversation happening around you seems further and further away as your mind hones in on the pleasure of your sensitive bits dragging along the lap beneath you. Slowly you begin to grind against him on your own, and instead of the pressure on your hips to continually move you forward, large hands come to settle on your ass. 

You feel a rush of cold air as your skirt is slowly dragged upward to expose your hardly covered ass. The heat rushes to your cheeks as you’re also made aware of the growing dampness in your panties, no doubt noticed by the other two as well. Your movements stutter slightly and Valentino quickly coos encouragement to get you to continue. 

“Sigue adelante,” He leans down to whisper in your ear, hands fully gripping your ass to pull you against him again. When you listen to his command, he praises you again, this time with a free hand sliding up your shirt along your side. “Eso es todo, baby…” His fingers skirt their way up your chest and easily find a pert nipple, brushing against it slightly as he gropes your chest.

Your reaction is immediate. Face emerging from its hiding place, you meet Valentino’s gaze with wide eyes and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. His fingers locate your nipple again and flick it slightly before rolling it between his fingers with more purpose. His eyes blaze with hunger as he watches you attempt to stifle your sounds with a bite of your bottom lip.

“Your little pet is so responsive Voxy~” He purrs matter of factly, reveling in how you squirm at his gentle touches. “Making such a mess humping my leg like a pequeño perrito.” You try to hide again at the sudden harshness in Valentino’s voice, but one of the hands on your ass quickly comes to grab your chin to prevent you from doing so. “Is that what you are, baby? Just a dumb little puppy?”

Your eyes search his eyes at the humiliating accusation. He didn’t want you to actually answer that question did he? The sudden sound of his palm making contact with your ass, accompanied by a stinging sensation, has you crying out with tears pricking at your eyes.

“It seems Val asked you a question, sweetheart.” Vox’s taunting voice breaks through your racing thoughts after a moment as Valentino roughly kneads the sensitive skin of your ass . When he pulls his hand back again, you catch the unforgiving expression on his face. 

“W-wait! Wait! I-,” you stutter out before he makes contact with your ass again. This time when you let out a pained cry, Valentino envelopes your lips to muffle the sound, a deep growl bubbling in his throat as you lean into his touch with a tight grip to his shirt. He presses his tongue past your lips and you let him, obediently opening your mouth to let him claim you how he wants to.

He coaxes you to kiss him back just as passionately, sliding his tongue against yours sensually. Distracted by the hands roaming your body and the lips molded against your own, you're surprised when you feel the slightest shifting below you and then the warmth of something pressing against your leg. 

Valentino pulls away from you with a seductive grin, and you automatically look down to see his exposed member laying against your thigh. Oh. The sight has you moaning before you can stop it and both demons laugh at your reaction. 

“Tan lindo~” Valentino coos before effortlessly lifting you up to turn you around. You immediately make eye contact with Vox who’s watching you intently with a mischievous grin. Trailing lower down his body, you see his pants unbuttoned and wide open with his cock exposed. A hand rapidly strokes along its length and the sight alone makes your mouth water. Your tongue peeks out to lick of your lips and the action doesn’t go unnoticed by the other, as his grin only grows bigger.

Valentino settles you back into his lap, only this time he moves your panties to the slide and slides his cock right between your legs. Finally feeling direct contact against your core has you keening over from overstimulation with a sharp gasp escaping your lips. An arm comes to wrap around your middle to keep you pressed against the chest behind you, and your head rolls back against Valentino’s shoulder. 

“Oh bien, stay juuuust like that…” He grunts out as he lifts you up slightly to fuck himself between your thighs. His breath is hot against your ear as you watch the slick tip of his cock slip back and forth between your thighs, each time dragging against your throbbing sex. Your legs press together to feel more of him and your hand timidly reaches down to touch him as fucks your thighs. He curses as you make contact with his smooth tip, your fingers quickly becoming slick with the mixture of his and your own essence. 

As your orgasm builds, your hand cups the tip of his member as it peeks out to and from your thighs and press it against yourself to feel more of him where you need him most. Your own hips roll back in time with his as you chase your own high, a frustrated whine leaving you from the build up of the previous stimulation. Your eyes find Vox’s again as he stands up from his seated position, panting out your name softly as he continues stroking himself while approaching you. 

“So close baby, need you…” Vox grunts out. Valentino’s grip loosens on you once Vox grows near and you move forward slightly with a gasp. 

The next few moments happen so quickly, you hardly have time to process the events that occur: A hand threads its way into your hair and you’re moved in the direction of Vox’s cock. Your mouth automatically welcomes him and you’re given almost no time to adjust as he immediately rocks himself against your face.

Your eyes flutter shut at the weight of him against your tongue, greedily sucking in each inch of him. When your eyes do open, you look up in hopes of finding him affectionately looking down at you, but instead you find him leaning over you to passionately kiss the demon behind you.

Tears fall down your face as your orgasm hits you suddenly, your hands reaching up to cling to Vox as you ride out the waves of pleasure. Your moans vibrating along him has Vox pulling away from Valentino with a curse to look down at you as his release quickly comes after.

He spills himself down your throat with a deep groan and pulls away slightly when you start to choke around him. Some of his release falls from the side of your lips as you try to reorient yourself. Still bouncing in the lap beneath you, Valentino continues to use you as a fleshlight for his pleasure. 

The only indication that he gives you of his own release is when your head is turned completely to the side so he can lick the rest of Vox’s cum from your lips and kiss you to taste more of him. Shortly thereafter, your thighs are coated in white as Valentino’s orgasm takes over him.

With a deep groan and a stutter of his hips, he shoves his tongue further down your throat as he milks himself dry between your legs . Dazed, you slump back against the body behind you, only to be pulled away after Vox pulls himself together.

“Heh, I’ll admit,” Valentino starts speaking before also tucking himself away, “I did not expect that from you, baby.” You cling to Vox on shaky legs and hide your face in his shoulder. The other only laughs.

“You know Voxy, we could always use new talent in the studio…” He propositions lowly as he ascends from the sitting area. You and Vox follow behind, his arm tightly wrapped around you as you make your way out of the club.

  “As tempting as it sounds my friend, I unfortunately I’m going to have to pass on your offer. This one is mine…”

[watermelonlovershigh]

Spontaneous Pleasures {part 7.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

The Rated R Card Game {part 6.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: we're getting so close to them actually having sex. then after that, it'll go back to more mundane things they do in their everyday lives. sorry i keep dragging this on but i'm having fun writing this series. enjoy!!! and make sure to leave your ideas and feedback!!! xoxo

This story contains: fingering (both pussy & ass) blowjob, analingus, aftercare, comfort

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - au!harry - softrry }

word count- 2,159

After Harry spontaneously fingers you during what started out as one of your typical movie nights, you get a wave of dominance come over you, leading you to get on your knees and sucking Harry's cock while also eating and fingering his pretty little ass hole for the first time.

> A few days later

"Har....H..Harry, mhm fuck!" you moan in pleasure as Harry fucks you with his fingers. What started out as a casual movie night, cuddling on the couch, soon turned into more when Harry's hand slipped into your yoga pants. Of course, there were kisses exchanged as well.

Grinning from ear to ear, he dirty talks, "Yeah, feels good baby? M' I makin' you feel so good? Fuckin' you with my, long, thick, fingers? Hmh?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" is all you're able to chant. It's rare for you to get fingered unless someone else fingers you. The angle at which you need to be fingered is something you've always found difficult to do to yourself. So you generally stick to clitoral stimulation or one of your dildos. But on the rare occasion you do get fingered, it feels amazing, when done right of course.

As Harry continues finger blasting you in the middle of his living room, on his sofa, he starts applying pressure to your clit with his palm, enhancing the sensation and causing your body to arch from its reclined position. The moist, squelching sounds reverberate throughout the walls of the house. Overwhelmed by immense pleasure, your mind becomes hazy and your toes begin to curl.

"You gonna come for me? Can feel you clenchin' down on my fingers."

You respond with a nod and out of nowhere, your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave. The intense pleasure you've been holding in your stomach erupts, creating a display of fireworks behind your closed eyelids. Your body trembles, your back stays arched, and your legs quiver as if they might close.

As you begin to come down from your euphoric state, the words "Oh my God!!" instinctively escape your mouth. Harry continues to pleasure you until he notices the signs of overstimulation and gradually withdraws. Now you find yourself lying on the couch, breathing heavily, as you attempt to regain your composure.

Rising to his feet, Harry states, "I'll be right back. Gonna get somethin' to clean you up with." While he's away, your senses begin to awaken again and you become aware of just how horny you still are.

Upon Harry's return, he cleans up the mess between your legs that he created from the spontaneous fingering session. Once he's finished with that, in a display of dominance from your horniness reappearing, you assert yourself by pushing him onto the couch and positioning yourself on the floor between his legs. Before Harry can utter a word of inquiry, you swiftly lower the front of his sweatpants, and he willingly aids in pulling them down even more until he's able to kick them off to the side of the couch.

His penis springs forth, looking as appetizing as ever. You reach forward and encircle his large shaft with your small hand, causing him to recoil slightly due to its sensitivity. Harry remains quiet, allowing you to have your way with him but his mouth is dropped open in an 'o' shape, breaths becoming heavier and more pronounced with each touch you give to him. Finally, you rise to your knees and lean over his lap, taking his dick into your mouth.

Upon feeling the head of his cock touch the back of your throat, he breaks his silence with a quiet curse of, "Shit" You adjust to accommodate to his size by tugging on what doesn't fit in your mouth, making Harry believe he's in heaven. Little does he know though, that what you have planned next will take him beyond the heavenly gates.

While removing your mouth from his cock, you continue to provide consistent strokes with your right hand as your face travels lower. When your mouth grazes over his testicles, Harry assumes you might engage in licking or sucking them, which he'd find incredibly satisfying. However, you exceed his expectations by bypassing his balls and positioning your mouth face to face with his puckering hole.

The act of performing analingus has never been your preference. You have only done it once, and that was with someone you knew very well. You would never entertain the idea of engaging in it with a one-night stand, as you had no way of knowing their level of cleanliness or when they last used the restroom.

However, you feel comfortable doing it for Harry. You're aware that he maintains excellent personal hygiene, especially when it comes to his bum, thanks to his experiences with men. He's well-versed in the practice of keeping his anus clean through regular douching and ensuring it remains free of excessive hair.

After gathering your courage with a deep breath, you plunge headfirst into the task at hand. Your tongue encounters the tense ring of muscles and slowly pushes its way inside. "What r' you doin'?" Harry blurts out. It's not that he dislikes what you're doing, because he fucking loves what you're doing. It's simply surprising, as he never envisioned you as someone who would engage in such activities. Nevertheless, he feels incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

You pull away quickly with a smirk. Despite feeling a bit nervous about whether or not what you did was acceptable, you can see from his expressions that he thoroughly enjoyed it. "Did you like that? I bet you like having your little ass played with, don't you? I wonder if you'd ever let me fuck it. Would you? Maybe with one of my dildos, or I could purchase a strap-on. If I bought a strap-on, perhaps I could also fuck your throat. Just like you allowed that other woman to do. Make you choke and gag on my fake cock."

Harry has never seen you so confident with your dirty words. It probably has something to do with the orgasm he previously gave you. You're still out of it, he concludes as an explanation. And you referencing something he admitted happened in his past during that card game a week or two ago, he was hoping that by sharing that event, maybe, just maybe you'd get some curiosity and fantasize about trying it out on him. He guesses his plan worked.

Still breathing rather heavy, Harry answers back, "Y/n, you can do whatever you want with me. Anythin'. Nothin' is off limits." And he truly means that. You want to fuck his ass? He'll get on his hands and knees this instant. You want to fuck his throat? He'll open his mouth so wide his jaw threatens to snap. You want to tie him up one day? He'll tie himself up for you, if that's even possible. He'll be your submissive. The only catch is, you've gotta let him do the same things to you.

"Good to know." is all you say before continuing where you left off. You lubricate his tight hole with your tongue before slipping it inside and fucking him with it. Your right hand picks up its speed on his cock. Harry grabs the backs of his thighs to hold his legs open for you, his feet propped up on the edge of the couch, which you greatly appreciate.

After a minute of continuous action, Harry is nearing orgasm. His legs quiver, his breathing becomes strained, and his stomach muscles contract. As soon as you feel his cock twitch in your hand, you remove your mouth from his hole and proceed to place his dick back into your mouth. Although you don't neglect his bum hole. Slowly, you guide your left hand down until it reaches his tightening hole, then smoothly easing inside without any resistance thanks to the lingering saliva left from your mouth..

Just as you insert your fingers, Harry announces, "Y/n, baby, m' gonna come." True to his words, he ejaculates, releasing his warm jizz all over your tongue as you skillfully pleasure him. Simultaneously, you continue to stimulate his anus, ensuring he experiences the utmost pleasure.

Even after his orgasm subsides, you persist in pleasuring him with your mouth and fingers until he physically has to push you away, stating, "Enough, baby. M' too sensitive now." When he uses the endearing term, "baby," it fills you with warmth. Though it's mostly been used during intimate moments. You eagerly anticipate the day when he will use it more frequently and not just during your sexual activities.

With a pop, you release Harry's softening penis from your mouth and retract your fingers from his ass hole. Harry is left on the couch, panting like a dehydrated dog. He's trying to compose himself after what just occurred. You stand up on sore legs, from the hard floor that is, and go to the bathroom to get a damp cloth for cleaning him up with. He deserves aftercare too. While in the bathroom, you also wipe away the arousal that formed between your legs and change into a clean pair of panties.

Upon your return, Harry remains in the same position where you left him. However, there is a slight change as his head now rests against the back of the couch, eyes closed, and he's no longer holding his legs up. You step in between his legs and speak softly, "Let me clean you off" He raises his head slightly, his eyes barely open, and notices that you hold a damp cloth in your hands. Without uttering a word, he spreads his legs to provide you with more space and just silently observes as you lean down and meticulously cleanse his genitals, followed by his wet ass.

Harry's sensitivity causes him to hiss, but he relaxes once you're done. Placing the damp cloth on the coffee table, you stand up and reach for Harry's hands. "Let's go to bed. We're both knackered." Harry takes your hands and stands up with your assistance. Upon standing, he notices something shiny on the floor.

"What's that?" Harry questions looking downwards, prompting you to cast a glance downwards as well, seeking to identify what he's referring to. It's in that moment that you become aware of a small puddle, evidence of your overwhelming arousal while you were pleasuring him. Although you were conscious of your heightened state of arousal, you didn't realize it had reached a point where it leaked onto the FUCKING floor. This situation is unbelievably humiliating.

Stumbling over your words, you reply, "Ohh, um, well doing what I did to you got me wet. Like really wet. I didn't realize it dripped on the floor though. I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be embarrassed, Y/n," Harry says softly, his hands cupping your face. "M' actually flattered that I got you so wet. It's an easy fix, we'll clean it up." With a nod of agreeance, you observe as Harry retrieves the cloth from the coffee table and bends down to eliminate the small puddle. In a matter of seconds, the area is completely cleaned and you both proceed to Harry's room where you'll be staying for the night.

Once in Harry's room, you go to slide under the covers when Harry suddenly asks, "Can we sleep naked?"

"Um, yeah if you want. But why?" Not that you have anything against sleeping naked but normally whenever you've shared a bed with each other, you have some form of clothes on. Typically you in an oversized t-shirt and panties, Harry in just his briefs.

As you both proceed to remove your remaining clothes, Harry answers, "I don't know. Just want to feel close to you, s'all. Your warm and your boobs make great pillows." That garners a laugh from you.

Now fully nude, he turns the one lamp that remained on, off and you each get under the duvet. "Come over here then." you instruct Harry. "Your pillows are waiting for you." He slides across the bed until he's settled by your side and gently places his head on your nearest breast while his top arm is slung across your belly.

In this moment, Harry realizes just how much he loves you. Never in a million years did he think he'd fall in love with the shy, timid girl who accepted his housemate position all those months ago. But gradually, after becoming friends, he realized how much fun you are to be around. How comforting your presence is. How you make him feel safe and warm. How you never judge him for his sexuality and accept him for who he is. He knows in this exact moment he wants to spend the rest of his life with you and you haven't even had sex yet.

But without a shadow of a doubt, he knows you'll be the best sex he's ever had and he has a feeling it's going to happen sooner than you anticipated. Like really soon. He can feel the sexual tension every time you do other sexual things. Tensions that make you just want to scream, "fuck me already." Soon can't come fast enough.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

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My Masterlist Masterpost

The Next Morning {part. 8} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)