#its so hard to draw the redheads.

[kosmic-autokrat]

horrifying quick textpost redraw

original by @heathcliffgirl2002 here

[dhmis-autism]

ID LOVE TO SEE YOUR HUMAN RED GUY BTW

well gosh if you're gonna be so enthusiastic about it sure. here's a drawing i did of him a while back. if you really want i'll show you the others but ah, im shy.

[osamucide]

⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

[gayerthanevertbh]

morning shenanigans.

pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist

summary: you and natasha spent the morning making “love” while other people were awake. 

warnings: rough sex, dirty talking, daddy kink, natasha being a little needy, pet names (sweetheart, slut, whore, etc), talks about anal sex, and more - 18+ MINORS DNI.

author’s note: just a little fic in my head that i wrote lol enjoy cx

“Natasha, oh my god!”

You clutched the headboard as Natasha rutted into you, grunting and panting above you like a hungry animal devouring its prey. She had her eyes closed and was moaning every time your cunt clenched on her meaty length, making it even more difficult for her not to come so soon. She flutters her eyes open as she kisses your lips hard and sloppily, spitting into your mouth as if she wanted you to be in her forever.

"Jesus Christ," she sighs, rolling her hips each time her cockhead brushes against your cervix. “You’re so tight for me, fuck! Oh god–”

“Quiet, Henry might hear us–”

"He's probably asleep," the older woman above you mutters as she feels your inner walls squeezing her cock once more, causing her to roll her eyes in the back of her head. "You're squeezing me too tightly, baby girl."

You smirk at her, clawing her ass as you let her go deeper inside of you.

“You don’t like that, Daddy?”

“Who said I didn't like it?” she growls, licking a stripe from her neck as she continues to cling to you, grabbing your hips. “You like this, don’t you? Do you like it when Daddy fucks you like this?”

You whimpered out loud, turning your gaze to the door, apprehensive that your child would burst into your room if he saw your girlfriend fucking you into oblivion.

“Baby, look at me,” she says softly, her hand gripping your jaw as she kisses your lips. “That’s it, you’re doing so good angel…” she pulls out of your pussy, leaving only her cockhead inside your walls as she wraps her hand around her meat and slowly pumps herself, looking down at you hungrily.

“D-Daddy,” you whimpered, attempting to roll her hips so that her entire length could slip into you. “Please fuck me... Fuck me good. I want you to go deep inside of me and fill me up.”

“Yeah?” she asks, her other hand squeezing your right breast and tweaking your nipple as you whine quietly. “You like this, baby? Hm? Gonna ruin your fucking pussy for everyone else, okay? Stay quiet and be pretty for me, little girl.”

Natasha pushed her penis all the way inside of you again, the bed creaking as she pounded into you hard, her mouth on your chest, open-mouth kisses on the middle of your cleavage. She moves her hands all over your back, thrusting her cock in and out until you feel yourself losing control and falling into euphoria.

“I need you so much,” she begs, peppering her lips all over your collarbone. “Y-You make me want to bust my nut into you, make you my breeding bitch. Tell me, you want to be bred like a little whore, huh? Come on.”

Natasha's hips snap back into you, pulling out before pumping herself back in. She looks down, watching her cock slip inside of you so easily that she might mistake you for no longer being tight. But you've always been so tight on her, so desperate for her penis, that she can go hard whenever she sees you. The older redhead returns her gaze to you and smirks, unconcerned that the neighbors might hear them banging each other's heads together.

"Good girl," she grunted, closing your mouth as she lifted your other leg, her cock effortlessly slipping inside of you. She draws back, seeing your juices coat her long limbs. "Do you like my big cock, sweetheart?" "You like Daddy's big cock?"

“Mhm!” you bit your bottom lip as her hips rolled back into you, causing the bed to groan once again. “Nat, Henry might-”

���Just be quiet, baby. H-he won't hear anything,” she mumbles as she gives you a gentle kiss. “You're making Daddy feel so good, God. I feel you all over my dick, fuck…”

Natasha's tip was mercilessly slamming into your sensitive spot, and your whines and moans could be heard throughout the room - you couldn't help yourself, she was too excellent at this. She was too adept at making you feel as if you were in oblivion or paradise. Her growls get louder as both of your wet skins slap together, filling up the room to the point that you could assume someone could hear you from outside.

“You're such an obedient little slut,” she moaned above you, her tongue brushing over your nipple. “Do you enjoy being fucked by me? Do you enjoy being my naughty little girl?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned in return, nodding vigorously. “Please, go hard, please-”

“Telling me what to do right now, hm?” she groans into your neck, jackhammering her hips into you. She spreads your legs widely with her knees, allowing herself to fuck you without a care in the world.

“Feels good?” she asks while panting, her breasts bouncing each time she ruts into you. You couldn't resist sucking one of her nipples, causing her to hiss. “Oh fuck–shit, oh god… that feels so good–”

“Are you close?” you asked, whining as you felt her cock hump into you and her arms tighten around you. “Daddy, cum in me–”

“I'm here, baby… oh fuck,” she moans aloud, sucking on your neck to the point of bruising. She continues to pound into you until she stops her hips, balls deep inside of you. “I'm going to cum, I'm going... Oh, shit!”

She stills her hips and releases massive amounts of sperm into you, her ass twitching as she releases her thick, white milk into you, her mouth all over your chest. You ran your fingers through her short brunette hair, gripping it tightly as you went around her length. She yanked out quickly, splattering more thick cum all over your pussy lips - she smiled.

"D-Did you like that?" she asks, her gaze fixed on your pussy clench. She couldn't help but grab her tip and spread the cum all over your folds, repeatedly slapping the head on your clit. This gesture made you flutter your eyes closed. “Fuck, baby. I just gave you a creampie.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, your eyes closed, as you felt Natasha's cum oozing out of your hole, causing her to chuckle deeply. “Happy now?”

“That I came in you? Yes,” she said as she stood up in her loose gray boxers, an obvious tent in her undergarment. “What is it?” asks the older woman, turning her head over her shoulder.

“I feel like Henry heard us.”

She snickered and crept back under the covers, clutching you close. “I doubt it. He’s dead asleep, baby.”

“Yeah, I guess–”

A loud bang is heard against the bedroom door. “Mommy? Can you please help me make waffles? I know Mama is still asleep, so please come and help me.”

You laughed softly as you rolled out of bed, teasing Natasha with your bare ass. “I want to bite your ass,” she said quietly.

“You could do that later, my love.” you brushed your hair away from your sweaty face while wearing shorts.

Natasha was allowing herself some free time by staying at your apartment for a short time while she was away from the compound. You had to inform the older woman you had a son when you first met her. You assumed she would resist you because she did not want to be engaged with a single parent. But the moment she heard you say those words, she treated Henry as if he were her own. It was as if you had a new family with her, and you felt entirely whole again.

She stood up when she heard your mother calling from the other side of the room. She kisses your left cheek while brushing her hair off her brow and wearing sweatpants.

"Can I also cum in your ass?" she asked with a whine. “Please, baby girl? Please? Come on, it’ll fit.”

You give your girlfriend a wink as you leave the room, the sperm in your cunt still leaking from its hole. Oh well, you thought. I’ll fix that later.

um.

[janeyseymour]

She

an anon requested this song fic based on Dodie's song. It's a really beautiful song about longing... and i attached is my own cover of the song if you'd like to hear my version of it :)

WC: ~2.6k

From the first day you began working at Abbott, you knew Melissa Schemmenti was an ethereal being. She was perfect- stunningly gorgeous, hilarious and quick witted, fiercely protective of those who she cared about- never one to back down from a challenge or threat that presented itself. And somehow you wormed your way into her heart- you still don’t really know why or how. 

Apparently, you were the absolute opposite of someone who would find themselves interacting with Melissa. You were just… you. You were young. You were positive and fun-loving, coming in with your hair done up nicely and always wearing something that had flowers on it. You were far from the blazers and jackets that she wore, but also just as far from the leather that she was usually clad in- your style was more Janine-esque. And oh how she loved to make fun of her colleagues outfit choices most days with her big skirts and ill-fitting sweaters, the clogs and shoes that didn’t have laces. The difference between you and Janine was that your clothes were shaped to your body, showing off your figure instead of hiding it- you wonder if that’s why she doesn’t make comments about your bright and sunny disposition.

But she liked having you around- she made it a point to keep you close to her during staff meetings, lunches, and outside of school- going as far as letting you come over for dinner and making you various meals.

And after so much time spent with the redheaded woman who loved to play hard and tough but was actually one of the sweetest souls, you find that you’ve developed feelings for her. The more time you spend with her though, it makes it harder and harder to mask and keep under wraps. Because she means everything to you, but you doubt she’ll ever know that. And oddly, you find that to be okay because you would rather have her in your life as a friend than as nothing at all. 

——

But are you allowed to look at her like that? Could it be so wrong when she’s just so nice to look at?

You’ve had ample time to look at Melissa- she’s always sitting next to you or across from you if you’re at her house. You would be lying if you said that you never stole a glance at her figure- it’s killer. But what really draws you in is her face and the way that she is so expressive with everything she does. Her eyes light up when she’s happy, and the way that she scrunches up her nose when she finds something so delightfully adorable melts your heart. The redhead’s smile is radiant, and you swear it could light up even the biggest of cities all on its own. And when she’s sad, you see the way that her usually sparkly emerald eyes dull just slightly in disappointment or regret. It’s in the way that she bites her lip subconsciously when she’s hesitant or nervous about something. 

“What’s got you dancing in here?” you ask as your eyes take a glance at the redhead’s voluptuous figure. Your eyes quickly flit up to her face though, and her eyes are brighter than usual, and you love the way that her smile meets her eyes.

“Just a good day,” she grins at you. “My cousin lost a bet, so I don’t have to make dinner tomorrow night!”

“Oh?” you raise a brow.

Melissa nods. “So, we’s getting Vin’s hoagies tomorrow. You’re still set to come over, right?”

“You know it,” you chuckle back. “As long as you promise I ain’t gonna get sick off ‘em.”

“You won’t. Half those reviews are full of shit.”

-

She doesn’t look thrilled coming into the break room for lunch today. Her eyes are dull, and there just isn’t the same pep in her step that there usually is when she sees you. She sits down quietly at her designated seat, keeping her head down and her mouth shut. She hardly touches her lunch that day.

“What’s got you down, Red?”

“I’m fine,” Melissa blinks quickly a few times. She tries to bring back the sparkle 

in her eyes, but it’s lacking. And it’s still lacking come the end of the day when the two of you walk out together.

“C’mon,” you say softly. “Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours.”

She sighs. “I think I have to break it off with Gare.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow as you adjust the strap to your backpack.

“It’s just not working out anymore,” she says quietly. “He wants more than I can give him now, and maybe ever.”

You reach out and take her hand gently. “I’m here if you need support.”

“Thanks,” she says through a sad smile as she squeezes your handle gently before dropping it.

——

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep, she tastes like apple juice and peach.

Your phone rings to life at the ripe hour of one in the morning. There is your favorite coworker’s smiling face; and with you knowing what she was going to do earlier in the evening, you answer.

“Mel?” you ask, trying not sound as though you weren’t just in one of the deepest slumbers of your life.

“Please… come over.”

“Are you okay?” you ask her softly as you pull the covers back and slip on the sneakers by your bed.

You hear her sniffle. “Not really… no.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” you promise her.

And you are. Without the hustle and bustle of the city to detour you, you’re able to pull up to her townhouse in just seven minutes. When she opens the door, you can immediately smell the scent of lemongrass that is coming from the diffuser over in the corner, and she looks exhausted- as if she’s just woken up herself. But she’s also holding a glass of wine, so you really don’t know what you’re walking into. 

“Mel?”

“I- I thought I was fine. I was drinking some of the apple wine that you know I like and I dozed off on the couch. When I woke up… it hit me that I’m- I’m single again,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Okay,” you reply just as softly as her. “That’s okay. I’m here to keep you company.”

She nods as you reach for the bottle of peach wine that she keeps for you at her house. After she’s finished off the apple wine, she pours herself a glass of the peach.

The two of you begin to spend much more time together now that she doesn’t have to go out with Gary for dinners and for various events that his company would invite him to.

——

Oh you would find her in a polaroid picture.

Since her breakup with Gary, you and Melissa have been joined at the hip. It makes her feel less lonely, and you don’t mind being able to spend time with the woman that you’ve realized is essentially the woman of your dreams.

The two of you are currently out thrift shopping when you come across an old polaroid camera. You pick it up with wonder in your eyes. Melissa comes up behind you with a smile dancing across her lips.

“You should get it,” she says quietly. “It’s cheap, and it’s definitely vintage at this point.”

One of the people working there sees that you’re interested in the device and makes her way over. “It’s got a roll in there too. Works nice. We tried it out when it got here.”

You grin, keeping it in your hands. When the two of you leave the store, the camera stays safely nestled around your neck. 

It’s a rather sunny day out, so the redhead has her sunglasses on and looks like she’s practically glowing. Without her noticing, because she’s walking across the street, you snap a picture of her. The Polaroid comes out, and you dry it quickly as you catch up with her before looking at it. 

Yeah, she belongs in that polaroid picture. When you show it to her, she rolls her eyes. But then she gestures for you to take another. You hold the camera up to your eye, and she rolls those striking green eyes again.

“With you in it, ya goof,” she instructs.

Your lips form into a small ‘O’ before you take it off your neck and face the lens so that you’re both hopefully in the frame. She playfully pretends as if she’s kissing your cheek when you do snap the photo. The film comes out, you dry it, and when you look at it… wow. Your heart swells, and she looks at it in approval as well. 

It stays on your fridge. 

——

She means everything to me.

She just does. It’s that simple. She’s Melissa Schmmenti, and you would be a fool for not seeing her for the absolutely goddess-like woman that she is.

——

I’d never tell. No, I’d never say a word. And oh, it aches. But it feels oddly good to hurt.

You would never, ever tell her of the feelings that you’ve developed for her. Not after she’s been so upset about breaking it up with Gary. Besides, you know she says things like ‘decisive women are hot’ but what does that really mean in the grand scheme of it all? And even if she was attracted to women, who’s to say she’s attracted to you- that you’re her type at all?

And somehow, you’re okay with not telling her of your feelings. Because at least you’re lucky enough to have the woman in your life. If you were to confess your feelings and then she was never into you, it would crush you. You wouldn’t want to lose her forever. So, you hurt in silence. And it feels oddly good to hurt over this one- because at least she’s there.

——

And I’ll be okay, admiring from afar, cause even when she’s next to me, we could not be more far apart.

You sit outside of your classroom for your preps most days, responding to emails and grading papers, because you like the change of scenery. It doesn’t hurt that you usually get to see Melissa Schemmenti roaming the halls to chat with her work wife or with any of your coworker friends.

You can always smell her and hear her before you can see her, the lingering scent of lemongrass and clacking of her heeled shoes letting you know that she’s on her way down the hall. When she passes, you smile up at her. She smiles back, giving you a gentle wave, before continuing down the hall towards her classroom.

Sometimes she brings her own things out to work with you- or at least next to you. But you’re still worlds apart. Her single days now consist of going out and staying out to forget about all her problems, while you enjoy the warmth of your home. She tells you about the different people that she meets out at the bars and how they’re good company at the time, but she’s not destroyed when she parts ways with them. You know deep down that you won’t be out at the bars trying to pick anyone else up anytime soon- not as long as your feelings for the redhead are as strong as they are.

——

Cause she tastes like birthday cake, and storytime, and fall. But to her, I taste of nothing at all.

Coworker birthdays usually mean birthday cakes, gatherings, and just enjoying the company of each other. And at the beginning of the school year, your birthday falls on a Saturday. So naturally, you surround yourself with those that you love- your coworkers. Your parents are too far away, you don’t necessarily have friends around here. So, the Abbott crew is at your townhouse, happily sitting outside and enjoying the last of the Summer air with a few beers in hand before the crisp Fall air pushes in.

Melissa had taken it upon herself to make your birthday cake this year, and it’s perfect. It’s absolutely divine, and you can’t help but watch as she eats her own creation. She knows its damn good- you can see her smirk as the others praise her baking. 

As night falls, the cool air sneaks in, and you’re reminded that Fall is just around the corner. And as the moonlight, along with the streetlights out front, light up your backyard, stories begin to come out of times before you had joined the Abbott crew.

Barbara tells you all of how her and Melissa came friends, Mr. Johnson tells stories that you take with a grain of salt but deep down now that there are little bits of truth sprinkled into his tall tales. Melissa lets all of you know that compared to when she started, y’all are soft.

You hang onto her every word, and she looks to you occasionally, but her eyes mostly stay on her work wife as she reminisces about what she claims to be the good ol’ days.

Those tales that haunt the halls of Abbott somehow turn to other stories that don’t revolve around Abbott.

Compared to some of the other people in her life, you realize, you mean nothing to her at all. 

——

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep. She tastes like apple juice and peach. You would find her in a polaroid picture. And she means everything to me. Yes, she means everything to me. She means everything to me.

As your sitting on your couch alone on a Friday night, you stand to get some more wine from the fridge. Hanging on the metal box is that sweet picture of the two of you that you took on your polaroid. The other picture of just her is hanging there as well, as much as she tells you its ridiculous for you to have it hanging there- but you can’t help admiring her beauty. 

Just as your about to sit back down and dig into yet another mindless binge watch of your favorite television show, the doorbell rings.

It’s late, so you don’t answer- pretending to be asleep.

“It’s Mel, and I know you’re still awake,” you hear her voice call.

You make your way over to the door and open it. She looks… well she looks as beautiful as ever with her hair tied up messily and clad in her Eagles apparel, but she also looks beyond exhausted. But she’s here.

“You okay?” you open the door as you invite her in. Her smell lingers as she brushes past you, two bottles of wine in hand.

“I can’t sleep, as much as I tried, and I knew my favorite night owl would still be awake,” she tells you as she settles on your couch. She opens the first bottle- one that has hints of apple. Then she opens the other- a peach wine.

“You brought peach wine?” you raise a brow.

“I know it’s your favorite,” she shrugs. “What are we watching tonight?”

As the night continues on, you stay awake. But her head falls gently on your shoulder as she gives in to her exhaustion and is taken away into a dream- unable to stay awake with you and watch the world pass by in a gentle silence. 

You glance down at her. The frown lines or smile lines that are usually in her face are gone as she’s completely relaxed against you. Her warmth makes your heart swell. And she… she does mean everything to you- even if she’ll never know it. 

[natsarrownecklacx]

Cruelty Is An Art Form Pt.2

Word Count- 3,183

Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings- Dark Natasha Romanoff, Smut, Minors this fic if not for you, Knife kink, Fear kink, mentions of kidnapping, allusion to death/ murder, dub con, slight daddy kink. Lmk if I missed anything.

Part One

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

Natasha walks you out of the bar with one arm wrapped securely around your waist. A blade, concealed by her suit jacket, pokes you dully in the side, engulfing you in the fear that acting out in any way will lead to your death. 

She pushes you into the back seat of her car, spinning the blade tauntingly in her hand as she instructs her driver to take you both to her home.

The car starts to move instantly and you turn your attention to the world slowly edging by outside the window. You watch as the sky turns to shades of red and yellow then slowly fade to a dark, leached gray in an attempt to distract yourself from the panic you feel coiling in your chest.

You don’t look at Natasha, not even once, as you make the drive from the city to her house in the countryside. She doesn’t try to speak to you or gain your attention in any way either, which you are grateful for. 

She sits so still, so quietly, that you’ve almost convinced yourself that she isn't really there. That, or she’d forgotten about you altogether. Either way you just hope that whatever is keeping her occupied lasts at least until the end of the car ride. 

What you didn’t know is that Natasha has not taken her eyes off of you once since you both left the bar. She’s just contented herself in watching you, imagining all the different ways she can play with you once she gets back to her house. That is, until she grows bored of only using her imagination. 

You feel the cold pinch of metal against the bare skin of your thigh before you feel her move toward you. You flinch inturnaly and pray that if you don’t acknowledge her behavior, she’ll remove the blade from its place on your leg and shuffle back to the other side of the seat. 

She holds the blade lazily against your thigh, swirling it against your skin to create intricate, twirls and designs. She doesn’t press hard enough to draw blood, but the knife is sharp enough to leave faint lines of red in its wake. 

Your heart picks up its pace in your chest, thudding against your ribs at a speed that makes you dizzy. 

Natasha watches with predatory eyes as your breathing picks up, finding a twisted pleasure in the way your chest rises and falls rapidly as she twists and loops the blade against the plush skin of your thigh. 

It only takes a few minutes before the enjoyment she feels watching you starts to fade. The now familiar quickened pace of your breath and uncomfortable shifting of your body boars her. So she decides to take it a step further, moving the blade higher up your thigh. 

Your breath hitches, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, a sly smile making its way over her face at hearing the sound. Natasha smirks maliciously to herself, leaning in tauntingly slowly and placing open mouth kisses on the side skin of your neck. 

You gasp quietly at the attention she gives the delicate skin and try to shuffle away. Hot, molten shame courses through your veins upon realizing that her actions are making arousal pool in the pit of your stomach. You close your legs against the feeling, willing it to go away. 

Natasha, however, has other ideas. She pushes down slightly on the blade, making it pierce your skin in warning and she delights in the whimper that leaves your lips at the stinging sensation and your compliance to unclench your thighs. 

Natasha continues her path of leaving marks on you, picking up where she left off in the bar. She moves the knife up and down your thigh without pause, using her other hand to massage and grope at the plush flesh of your neglected thigh. 

She moves her attention to your pulse point, gently nipping and sucking at the area. A needy whine leaves your lips as your mind slips from its surroundings and plunges you into a fuzzy headspace, the alcohol and lust running through your system lowering your inhibitions to a damn near non-existent level. 

Natasha moves hand unoccupied by the blade to your chest, groping and kneading the flesh in a way that has the heat in your stomach sliding down between your legs. You lean your head against the back of the seat, unconsciously closing your eyes, arching your back forward and spreading your legs for the widow. 

Natasha smirks against the skin of your neck, taking the opportunity to press the flat of the blade between your legs, directly onto your clit. She watches in awe as your head tilts back and a pitiful, needy moan falls from your lips, the cold of the blade setting your senses on fire. 

She’d had a feeling when she’d seen you at the bar that you were different from every other girl she’d known before, but this is not what she was expecting. 

Hot arousal pools in Natasha’s stomach, making her clench her thighs together. She tries to sit quietly in her seat, not wanting to pull you from your blissed out headspace. 

Your hips start to move against the cold metal pressed against your cotton panties, eliciting quite whimpers and moans from your lips. 

“Fuck.” She whispers, feeling her slick slide into her panties and stick them to her dripping folds. She watches with dilated eyes as you get yourself off on the metal, grinding your hips into it and clenching your fists on either side of your body. 

Soft moans and whimpers leave your mouth as you do, the heat between your legs building to the point that only a few more thrusts will push you over the edge. 

It's not until you absentmindedly whine out “Daddy” that Natasha loses her will to restrain herself. Without allowing herself to really register what she is doing she grabs your hand from beside you, shoves it between her legs and wasting absolutely no time before closing her thighs around it and grinding down. 

The rough and sudden movement pulls you from your absent headspace, bringing you back to yourself and your current situation. You yelp out and jump away from the woman beside you.

Tears of shame and disgust fill your eyes as the reality of your actions hit you. This woman has kidnapped you, threatened you and killed hundreds if not thousands of people. Yet you couldn’t help yourself from opening your legs for her. 

Natasha sighs, seeing that she will no longer be getting what she wants. She opens her mouth to speak, no doubt to tell you to get over yourself, that it's only a bit of fun, but her driver and the car pulling to a halt stop her just before the words can leave her mouth. 

“We're here, boss.” 

Natasha looks to the man, thanking him and dismissing him for the night. She then looks back to you, a teasing, evil glint in her eyes as she lifts the blade up to your eye line, showcasing the slick arousal sliding down its surface. 

“Don’t bother acting all innocent, Angel. Having my blade between your legs turns you on, there's no hiding that now.”

You look away in embarrassment, wishing more than anything that a hole could open underneath you and swallow you. Or anything really to make you feel something other than this. 

—-----------------------------------

Natasha opens the car door and steps out, looking over her shoulder expectantly at you. You follow her without complaint, hoping that if you do so she won’t feel the need to pull you along behind her, not wanting to draw anymore attention to the fact that she had her hands all over you only moments ago in a very different context. 

You follow behind her through a huge font door, into an admittedly very nice house. The entryway is filled with paintings and sculptures from what looks to be Greek mythology.  It all comes together in a way that makes the room look decadent and beautiful. It's not at all what you expected her house to look like, but you appreciate the interesting art either way. 

Natasha only acknowledges your presence again when she looks over her shoulder toward you, having reached a door at the end of a long hallway. She pauses briefly after opening the door and gesturing for you to walk inside. 

This room, unlike the one in the hall, is exactly what you think Natasha’s living space should look like. It’s a home study, with a large mahogany desk in the center of the room, what looks to be a drinks cabinet pushed against the left wall and a rather mysterious looking wooden chest in the back left corner, hidden between the wall and the drinks cabinet.

There's a comfortable, old timey looking arm chair in the top right hand corner, with a small drinks table next to it. There are various paintings scattered around the room, each of them depicting different Greek gods and goddesses. 

Natasha walks into the room behind you, shutting the door behind her and walking straight to her desk. She looks toward you, raising a brow at you awkwardly standing in the center of the room, waiting for some kind of instruction. 

Natasha smirks to herself and nods to the armchair in the corner, watching in amusement as you follow her wordless command. 

The second your body meets the leather of the chair Natasha’s voice cuts through the silence of the room, calling for a few of her men, who were stationed around the house, to join you in the study. Each of the men ignore your presence as they enter and stand silently, listening to Natasha order them to find every bit of information they can about you. They leave the way they came, with only a complaint “on it boss” passing through their lips. 

The men leave and the room is plunged into an uncomfortable silence. Natasha doesn’t speak to you or try to touch you at all. She doesn’t taunt or threaten or gloat. She simply sits in the chair behind her desk, a glass of vodka in hand, and stares at you as if you are a five course meal and she is a starved woman. 

This continues on for what feels like hours, but in reality is only thirty minutes, until Natasha’s phone rings, disturbing the quiet in the room and causing you to flinch, not expecting the noise. 

You can’t hear the person speaking to her on the phone, but you can tell from the look in her eyes and the cheshire-like grin on her face that they’ve given her what she wanted.

Natasha’s eyes darken and you swear you can see an idea forming behind the deep pools of green and black.

She puts the phone down without saying a word, her eyes never leaving you as she does so. She bites her lip in thought and turns her attention to her phone, debating her next move for a few seconds before picking the device back up.  

The other person answers quickly and she begins to speak in a language you don’t understand. Sometimes you hear her say your name, your heartrate picking up each time she does so. Whoever she’s talking to seems to be fairly interested in you, seeing as Natasha’s gaze remains on you the entire time. Luckily the call only lasts for a few short minutes. 

“Do svidanyiya.” She says, seemingly happy with the outcome of the call, and hangs up. 

She sits back in her chair, staring at you over the rim of her glass. You can see from the way her grip tightens on her glass and eyes dilate that she is holding herself back from taking you in every way her sick mind can convince. 

You war with yourself internally between dreading the thought of her giving into her urges and the need between your legs begging her to touch you again. To finish what she started hours ago at the bar.

The reason behind her hesitation both confuses and alarms you. It can’t be because she fears retaliation from your family, Natasha isn’t afraid of anyone. Now that she knows who your father is, the reason behind her self restraint is even more confusing. 

Your father is known throughout the underworld of mob leaders as a kinder, more gentle leader. He never takes a life, not unless that life threatens others. He protects his community in any way he can. To Natasha, he’s an easy mark. A weak, pathetic excuse for a man. 

She didn’t even know whose territory she’d been taking over for months, uncaring of who she was leaching from. But now that she knows it’s your father, an idea starts to form in her head, a way for her to kill two birds with one stone. 

You see it on her face the moment it happens, the second her mind becomes resolute on whatever plan she’s making for herself. 

The thought makes you feel sick to your stomach, the idea that you and your father are now known to Natasha, that her plans now involve you both, makes you want to vomit. 

—----------------------------------

It's another ten minutes of Natasha silently staring at you and sipping away at her drink before you work up the courage to speak.  “What will you do with me?” You ask, your voice quiet. 

“Whatever do you mean?” Natasha responds, feigning innocence and looking entirely too amused with your attempt at confidence.

“You know who I am now. You know who my father is. What are you going to do with me?” You press again, this time shoving your fear away and looking her in the eye. “If you're going to kill me I’d rather you get it over with.” 

Natasha tenses at your words, her demeanor changing from lazy and relaxed, teasing even, to angry. The shift in atmosphere scares you, making you shuffle back against the corner of the armchair. 

Natasha watches you as you do so, groaning and leaning back in her chair, her hands coming up to drag down her face. “Fuck, your so pretty when your scared.” 

Her crude words light a flame in your cheeks, a red tint licking over your features as you curl in on yourself more, readily ignoring the burning sensation between your legs ignited by her words and groans. 

“Like I said before, Angle, you're of no use to me dead.” She says, as if she’s bored of saying it again. “So no. I won’t be killing you any time soon.” 

You nod your head slowly at her words, trying to accept them and take in what they mean for you. If she doesn’t want to kill you, what does she want?

Natasha twitches in her seat across from you, losing her internal battle of self restraint, and draws you out of your thoughts, bringing you attention to her. She stands, making her way over to you in quick strides and grabbing you by the neck before you can even process her standing from her seat. 

You look up at her, confusion and fear evident in your eyes as you claw at her hand and splutter for breath. Natasha allows herself a moment to take in the sight in front of her before she comes to her senses and pulls back, muttering a frustrated “fuck” while you cough for air. 

“I’m not used to having to control myself.” She mumbles angrily, pacing back and forth in front of you. “When I want something, I take it. When I want someone, I have them.” 

Natasha stops pacing suddenly and turns to look at you so fast you're sure she must have given herself some form of whiplash. “No. I have to do things differently with you. I have to do this the right way.”  She says the last words through gritted teeth, as if they physically pains and disgusts her. 

“Get out.” She says, before shouting a woman's name over her shoulder and making her way back over to her desk.

“What?” You ask, shock clear in your voice as you stand from your chair on shaky legs. 

A woman in a maid outfit enters the room with her head bowed, her voice coming out even but fearful as she asks, “You called for me, miss?” Natasha nods her head and commands the woman to take you to a guest room, to bring you a change of clothes and a hot meal. 

“You're just going to feed me and let me sleep?” You ask, skeptical of the woman's unexpected kindness toward you. 

Natasha snaps her head up to look at you, her eyes wide and challenging. “Would you prefer to stay here and be bent over my desk?” 

Her words light a heat in your stomach, one that you can’t ignore but also brings you shame. You shouldn’t feel that way about her, at all, yet you do. You shake your head at her words, pleading with any god out there that she wouldn’t make the offer again, not sure you could resist her a second time. 

“No?” Natasha taunts, her eyes zeroing in on the squeeze of your thighs. “Leave then. Maria will show you to your room.” 

You follow the brunette out of the room without another complaint. She leads you up a big set of stairs and down various long hallways with lots of twists and turns before she stops outside what must be the guest room and opens the door for you to step inside. 

Maria gets you a fresh pair of clothes then leaves to let you change, informing you that she will be back soon with dinner. You take the alone time to scope out the room, checking if you can find any way out.

You try the door first, though it is locked as you expected. Next you make your way over to the windows, each one locked with bars on the outside. You're trapped, there's no way out. You could scour the room with something to defend yourself, but you passed at least ten men with guns on your way in, so there would be no point. 

Plus, if you did manage to make it out, you’d only be putting your father and your family in danger. There's no way she would just let you escape and let you live.

Instead, you change your clothes and hop onto the large king size bed, pulling back the silk covers and crawling underneath. You don’t have the energy to wait for the maid to come back with food, you're not even sure you’d have an appetite even if she walked through the door with it now. 

So you lie down on the unnaturally comfortable bed, your body melting into the mattress as you close your eyes, letting the exhaustion take over, and hope that when you wake in the morning you’ll realize that this was one big, long nightmare. 

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

Part Three

A/n- Hope ye like it so far, let me know what you think. Next part should be out inna week.

[shslbunnylover]

★★★𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 (𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮 9: 𝙑𝙞𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨/𝙑𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙭)★★★

Character: Wanda Maximoff

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1 @marvels--slut

Trigger warnings (DL, DI): Virginity loss, smut, vanilla sex,

Genre: Smut

A/n: Fuck Colonizer Columbus

Word count: 1.4k

...

...

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the cold air around you and your girlfriend shot straight onto your heated sex, eyes focusing on the redhead that was slowly pulling off your panties as to not freak you out too much.

"Are you sure about this Y/n?" Wanda asks, cupping your chin immediately at the sound of you whimpering. "I promise I won't get mad; you can take as long as you want for us to do it," She reassured you, eyes filling with concern at the thought that you wouldn't be 110% comfortable with what you were about to do.

You nod, legs trembling in need as you bite your lip hard enough for it to start hurting.

"Please Wands...I really need you; I don't want to do this with anyone but you," You replied, eyes seemingly filling with a combination of lust and love as you began to beg the other woman to touch you.

"Okay baby, if you're sure. Just tell me to stop whenever you want me to and I will; no judgement," She said, her eyes continuing to carry a caring undertone to them that was easy to see.

Your legs clench up as you feel her soft hands trailing up and around where you needed her most, your body not used to teasing as you had usually just gotten your orgasms from your own fingers or toys, but you liked her being in control.

Wanda smiled softly, her middle finger sliding through the tiny gap between your soaked cunt and your ruined underwear as to hook it with her digit, pulling it off in one quick motion before tossing it off the bed into the neat pile where all of your other clothes had gone.

"So wet? Are you sure you've never done this before?" She smirked, teasing you slightly before returning to her normal soft and gentle nature as her pointer and middle finger spread your folds apart just a little bit.

You blushed furiously, your head quickly snapping away from your girlfriend as to not let her see your incredibly flustered reaction.

You knew it was pornographic yet wholesome the way the two of you were positioned, Wanda on her knees and leaning over you while you rested on the headframe of your shared bed, but you loved every second of it.

The cold and silent air around your body left a trail of goosebumps around your arms as Wanda pulled your hands together, pressing them to the bed frame to fuck you at a better angle.

"Is this okay?" She made sure to ask, her eyes still looking straight ahead at you as she continued to rub her digits around your sensitive points.

You nod eagerly, liking the control she had over you as she touched you with her loving hands.

"Full sentences..." Wanda warned, wanting to make sure you were actually comfortable.

"Yes Wands, I like this," You chuckle, a tiny moan escaping your lips as you felt Wanda's fingers getting closer to your hole.

"That's good, now, we're going to use colors to say whether or not you're comfortable. Green means good, yellow means slow down, and red is basically your safe word," The redhead explained, her thumb finding its way to the outer part of your clit, rubbing circles into it slowly as to draw out as many moans from your throat as she could. "Do you understand, sweetheart?"

You nod once again, internally joking about how your neck will hurt after this before you remember your girlfriend's rule of using full sentences for your first time.

"Yes, I've got it, please don't explain any more...It's too painful for you to tease me like this," You whinsomeed, a pleading undertone in your voice as your eyes dart down to where the green-eyed woman's fingers were circling your clit.

Wanda chuckles at your begging, a sly yet caring and coy smirk tugging at her lips as she slowly slid two of her fingers inside of your cunt, releasing a loud moan from your mouth as your tight walls clenched around her digits.

"F-Fuck~!!" You cried, your voice meek from the sudden penetration of your body, eyes rolling back into your head as you closed them from the ecstasy.

Your hands try to resist the hold that's placed on them by your girlfriend, to which the other woman lets go immediately, allowing for you to cling your arms around Wanda's neck.

"Color?" The redhead asks, looking you dead in the eyes as her pace speeds up, your walls so tight she's not sure if she'll be able to add a third finger inside of your core.

"G-Green!" You choke out, soft cries leaving your lips as you bury your face into Wanda's shoulder.

Her scent is just as addicting as her touch, the smell of her matching shampoo and body wash filling your nostrils with the familiar and comforting smell that somehow manages to turn you on even more as you feel your walls stretching perfectly around Wanda.

Soft cries of pleasure filled the room as Wanda's fingers filled your need. Your slick, already dense between your legs, helping the redhead move her digits in and out of your aching core. Your hands tightened their grip on her shoulders, causing red handprints to form where you had gripped her, her lips beginning to kiss and press themselves onto your own.

The slow penetration filled your body with tingles and the sensation of just pure pleasure that you were unaware could even be possible, it was just magical the way this woman curled herself inside of your wet pussy.

You looked down at the sight of your hole being filled, watching all the wet and sticky cum falling from your cunt and onto your girlfriend's fingers, the way it spread itself all over your inner thighs making you squirm slightly from the sensation of it mixed with the original ecstasy.

A string of curses leaves your lips as they only part slightly from the exhaustion that filled your body, your eyes hooding as you begin to feel your muscles cramping up in an oddly pleasureable way.

You knew about the concept of orgasms, but you had never felt one even with all the effort you tried to give with masturbation, no one had ever told you they were this...heavenly.

More cries that eventually increase in volume leave your lips, leaving you unable to speak as Wanda continued to pump her fingers inside of your hole that was perfectly stretched around her.

"Please Wands~!" You moaned, eyes rolling back into your scalp as you began to slightly cry from the overwhelming amount of pleasure and emotions you were currently feeling.

"I am, sweetheart," Wanda cooed, her other hand that wasn't covered in you stroking and cupping your cheek with just a pure gentle nature. "Color?"

You let out another cry, not wanting to speak with all of the emotions in your head crowding your ability to talk.

"G-Green!" You squeaked, your eyes releasing more tears as you felt your whole body become soaked with your upcoming orgasm.

You were practically sobbing at how good Wanda's fingers felt rubbing up and down your pussy, brushing across your clit before rubbing circles.

"Are you ok? Do you want me to stop?" You heard Wanda ask as tears streamed from your eyes, continuing to wipe away your tears while still pumping into your hole. She was always so caring and this moment was no different. You shook your head no and she kissed you before starting to make her way down your body.

"Please don't! I need you!" You cried, feeling yourself coming undone before Wanda's very touch.

Your fingers dug into the sheets and blankets below you, turning your knuckles white until you finally rode your high out, falling back onto your pillows as Wanda pull out of you.

Wanda quickly caught you, wrapping her arms around your body as you felt her warmth comforting you.

"Did that feel good baby? Do you need water?" The redhead asked with a worried tone evident in her voice.

You shook your head, burying your head in your girlfriend's chest as you hummed in response.

"No, just you," You mumbled, looking up at Wanda before yawning. "We can do all that stuff later..."

Wanda chuckled, laying down with you in her arms as you both began to fall asleep.

You definitely knew you'd have to do this again.

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

Trick! Jason/Roy, Pumpkin please and thank you =)

I laughed out loud like ten times while writing this, so I hope you get as much amusement out of it as I did.

Read on below, or on AO3

It's The Great Pumpkin, Jason Todd

“I thought Ivy was playing nice lately? She and Harley were settling down and raising carnivorous roses together or something?” 

“She has been. That’s why we’re investigating. Dickie Bird says that Ivy is insisting she’s not involved with this. Gave proper alibis and everything.” 

Jason hunkered down next to the fence and made a cup with his hands to boost Roy up to the top. 

“Holy shit,” Roy hissed when he got a look over. 

“Feel free to pull yourself the rest of the way up. You know, any time now. Your balls are basically on my forehead right now.” 

Reaching down, Roy swatted around until he hit the top of Jason’s head. “You’ve gotta see this.” 

“I can’t see anything. Because, and I believe I mentioned this already, your balls are sitting on my fucking forehead.” 

When Roy made no effort to climb the rest of the way on his own or to shift his crotch away from his partner’s face, Jason growled deep in his throat and stood up, forcing Roy to the top of the fence in one quick motion. 

His idiot redhead flailed and squawked in surprise and tumbled headfirst over the fence, landing on the other side with a wet squelch. 

Jason had been raised better than to laugh. Too hard. 

He only had about three seconds total to enjoy himself before Roy let out a scream. 

“Arsenal!” Using little more than his fingernails and the rubber toes of his tactical boots, Jason scrambled up the wooden fence. He landed in a crouch, already drawing his guns to take aim at-

“Ohhh, this is gonna suuuuck.” 

Ambling slowly across the pumpkin patch was a Jack o’Lantern. 

An enormous one. 

At least the size of an SUV, and getting bigger as the pumpkins around it withered on the vine as it passed. 

And it was dragging Roy in its wake, the man tangled up in vines that pinned his arms to his side and were snaking into his mouth to keep him quiet. Still, he struggled and bit and fought to reach one of his arrows or his gun. His bow snagged on a dried pumpkin and pulled free. 

The mud in the patch slurped at Jason’s boots, slowing him to little more than a jog. Unable to reach his partner, he fired at the monster. “Hey, Jackass!” 

His bullets only made wet, meager thuds when they hit the gargantuan gourd and were absorbed into it, but it was at least enough to get its attention. 

It bellowed noiselessly, pulp and seeds spewing out of the jagged mouth and raining down around the patch. One of its trailing vines slithered across the mud to wrap around Jason’s ankle and yanked him off balance. He was dragged forward and as he scrambled for purchase to pull away, his fingers brushed something smooth and solid. 

Jason clutched at Roy’s bow and twisted around onto his back. His jacket was hiked up and dead vines jabbed and scraped at his back. “Boom arrow!” he shouted to Roy who had pried his quiver free and was trying to stab at his bounds with one of his classic arrows. 

Roy understood immediately, but he knew they would only have one chance at this. The vines he had bitten through were already regrowing and they were winding around his throat. There were spots in his vision from his air being cut off completely. He strained to get his fingers into the quiver, sorting through them by touch alone to find the arrow he needed. 

He pulled it out and sent it end over end at Jason just as he passed him. 

Not for the first time, he wondered if he had been a good enough teacher, but he couldn’t do anything but trust Jason when he nocked the arrow and took aim. Shooting from the ground was hard enough. Doing it while being hauled across a cursed pumpkin patch with mutant vines trying to pull his limbs off would be next to impossible. 

The arrow loosed and buried to the fletching in the pumpkin. 

For an agonising moment, nothing happened. 

Then the explosive detonated. Briefly, the pumpkin glowed from within, light shining out through its mouth and eyes, casting a shine over the field. 

Until it burst apart, chunks flying out in a near perfect circle and falling to the ground. Spattering the two men with orange sludge. 

The vines holding them captive went limp and they were able to scramble free. Jason crawled to Roy’s side and flopped over next to him. 

Between pants for air, Roy spoke.“Next Halloween, we’re just taking Lian trick-or-treating, and staying in to watch movies.” 

[igglemouse]

"You were warned," an accusation wakes me but it's hard to make sense where the voice comes from with my mind tilting. I try to get up but find that my body is not quite ready. Perhaps its best to sit here for a while and try to figure out what happened last night? "If you were a normal person you'd be dead by now. One way or another, at least."

"What?" comes from my lips, as light night trickles into my mind. This was my fault. I knew that much, I let my curiosity push me just a little too far and then...

"Are you here on behalf of your mother?" A woman asks and I open my eyes to see that she's pale, redheaded, and holding a glass of wine? She lounges in a chair as if she is royalty and regards me with a mix of fear and her own curiosity? But why fear me?

Instead of answering her I rise to my knees and am instantly rewarded with my brain jumping out of my skull. No, not literally, but it feels that way. As if it's trying to drill itself out of my eyes or...the pain, so sudden and sharp and demanding, leaves me whimpering on my knees and begging for mercy from whoever can grant it.

"She's enchanted you," the woman asks rhetorically, to herself. Taking a long sip of her wine that looked a little too viscous to be wine at all and her eyes, fixed with some bit of wonder, froze on me and my anguish. "My maker woke thanks to your presence and took a sip from you, or tried to, from what I gathered. Normally, this would have left you dead or in the process of turning but it looks like some protection spell of yours fought him off."

She spoke but I did not listen. I had my own issues to deal with it.

"Lilja, by the way. You'll be wanting to make your exit here soon, before my maker wakes again and he'll likely be more determined than last time...I'd suggest not coming here anymore..."

And so I was spared. I hurried home and tried my best to put the morning behind me...or was it the night? It's hard to say. Everything happened so fast. One moment I was looking into the eyes of a creature driven only by thirst and the next I was lying on the floor. Thankfully, I wasn't completely ignoring what Lilja, that is her name I think? Yeah, I hadn't completely tuned her out.

What Lilja said was true. My mother had enchanted me. Protected me from vampires with a ward so strong that not even a mosquito would dare to take a sip, as I've mentioned before.

I'm actually not sure how the defensive part of it works? I'm an idiot when it comes to magic, remember? I'm thinking I was attacked and maybe some kind of shield or force zapped the vampire and then...yeah, I don't know. Pretty crazy when you think about it.

Thankfully, after leaving the castle I felt a lot better. I'm not sure why that is but...

I'll really do my best to just put it out of my mind. So back home for cleaning and eating. Lots and lots of eating.

From what little I know of my protections the spell puts a tax on my body, putting my brain into overdrive, and after that I have no idea. I do know it draws from every bit of energy I have to repel an offending force but the cost of it is often excruciating pain. One thing you'll learn about magic is that everything has a cost. If you want to bring someone back from the dead be prepared to spill the blood of a loved one. Any ways, the attack triggered it no doubt.

I do know its a dangerous spell, one often used by a magician as a last resort and one that often fails so I'm very fortunate that in that moment it held up...

Triple V breaks up my thoughts and actually there is no one I'd rather have come visit than her right now.

But while it might have made sense to tell her what had happened my inner mind told me no. Vampires and Spellcasters do not get along. Obviously. We also don't get along with shifters but that is another story for another day.

So instead I let Vee lead the way. She was over here for a reason after all and she made that reason very clear right away. "Have you ever heard of the Matlock society?"

"What? Really?" of course I have not. "You mean like...is that named after my family?"

"Yes, why yes it is. I received an invitation to join and well, I imagine they'd love you as a member. You are the only remaining Matlock after all."

"What is it that they do?"

She gives me a shrug with a far too careless look on her face. "They maintain the legacy of your family?"

I'm not really sure if that is a good or bad thing but it's definitely a thing I should look into.

Now its back to my jewel crafting but I admit its kind of hard to focus with all that's happened today. I was attacked by a vampire and have learned that someone somewhere is using my family's name to start some kind of 'society'. You can imagine how I might be distracted...

But you know after all of this it has only made one thing clear to me. I can't run and hide from the supernatural. It is what I am after all. I'm going to have to learn how to make the most of my magic before my magic makes the most of me.

So that's the plan. I'm not going to run. I've spent my life running and hiding and what has it gotten me? A small house collecting rocks to sell cheap jewelry.

Yeah, I think I can be doing just a little bit more with my life.

Episode List - Next

[kukurykunapatyku]

[I.D.: Drawing of Ichiji and Ace from One Piece. Both are inside rectangle frames, Ace in right up corner and Ichiji in left down corner, their boxes intersect in the middle. Ace is seen from behind, waist up, with his head thrown back. There is crown of alternating golden lines and red spheres around his head. He doesn't have a shirt or whitebeard tatoo. In the background there is Vinsmokes' skull. Ichiji is seen from the front, hips up, slightly from above. He holds a heart in his outsretched hand. He has blood on his hands and shirt. He wears grey shirt, black trousers and white cape with red lining. His eyes are visible, he looks focused. Words '"The first"? Weird name to give a son.' and 'Perfect for a sacrifice though.' fill the remaining corners of the drawing. /End I.D.]

Vinsmoke shipping week day 1: First meet / Immortal x mortal

How to get unimaginable power, by Vinsmoke Judge:

capture a fallen star -> try to make a deal with it -> get your favourite son to make a sacrifice in your place -> ??? -> profit

I'm boo boo the fool. I got an idea for au, made illustration first, thought the quote sounded good and filled the empty space. And then I got to writing and realised I have nowhere to put the quote so it would made sense 😗

This was supposed to be one shot for the vinsmoke shipping week but this au grew on me, i might do something with it in the future Not a lot of romance here I'm afraid 👍 maybe next time

🔽Fic under readmore 🔽 Also on Ao3

cw: slight gore, dehumanizing (refering to he/him with it/its)

Heavy basement doors closed with a dull thud behind Ichiji. The fog from his breath danced in the air, looking for any crevice that would let it out of the room.

Deep underground, sealed with runes and cement, only torches illuminating the dark - someone could call the precautions unneeded, but Ichiji knew better. He looked towards their prisoner, trapped on a painted floor.A catch like this was once in a lifetime.

The star didn't show that it noticed him yet. No matter, it wasn't needed for the first part.

Repeating father's instructions, Ichiji took a piece of chalk out of his pocket a got to work. Slender lines began to fill the empty spaces on stone walls and floor; circles, crosses and vines intersecting each other in carefully calculated patterns. The star didn't seem to move, but Ichiji could feel its eyes following him around the room. Good, so it's conscious. Not letting it disrupt him, he came back to the drawings. They needed to be perfect for the barter to work out.

He noticed, Ace thought, peeking from behind his eyelids. Well well, wasn't he an observant bastard. One that knew what he was doing; the symbols, even incomplete, already brimmed with power that made his throat dry and set of ringing in his ears. Ah, so he wantsa deal. A pretty serious one, he added to himself, looking at the size and complexity of the circle. His eyes trailed after the caped man. A few healing sigils, couple time capsules, warding lines - probably a kidney. Ace licked his lips. Maybe an eye or two if he was lucky.

Finally finished, the guy stopped before him.

"I know you are awake," he huffed.

Ace slowly opened his eyes and got better look at the figure before him. Sparse light glistened on red hair and sunglasses, the rest disappearing and reappearing from shadows.

"Why hello there," Ace said with a crooked smile. "What brings you here?"

"The deal."

Ace grimaced. Barely a word. The offering better be worth the drag; at least it'll get him out of this shitty basement.

"Silly me, of course. But, you know, there should be some decorum to this. Usually people start with their name."

Redhead stared down at him. Or at least Ace assumed he did, it was hard to tell with covered eyes. After a few moments of contempt silence the contrarian in him finally won.

"Okay, see, it goes like this:" He pointed at his chest and pronounced with exaggerated care. "My. Name. Ace." He turned the finger on him. "You. Name. What?"

For a second the shape of something like embarrassment appeared on the guy's face before it smoothed over again.

"Vinsmoke Ichiji. The oldest prince of Germa Kingdom, where you currently reside."

Ace widened his eyes. The guy- Ichiji actually responded? That was a new one. He grinned; maybe this won't be a complete waste of time.

"Ichiji... <First>? Weird thing to name a child. Your parents must be something else."

One curly brow went up.

"Is that so, Ace?"

Ace shrugged.

"I said what I said." he looked up. "So, Germa? Can't say I ever heard of it. Eh, it's not like I heard of many human kingdoms."

"You do not find us interesting, I get."

"Oh, the opposite! I find you humans really interesting; it's just your kingdoms that are just so incredible dull. You have a habit of pretending that they matter but truth be told? If you look from the side, they all look exactly the same."

Ichiji tilted his head. "Hm."

"You look less upset than I expected from someone who introduced himself as a prince," Ace inquired.

"Arguing wouldn't do anything, would it? That is not what I'm here to do." He pulled something small from his pocket and knelt next to Ace. "We should proceed."

The clang of iron shackles falling on the floor shot through the room. Ace rubbed his aching wrist.

"Well, it was nice to chat."

But Ichiji wasn't done. With the same key he started scrapping the paint from the stones around Ace. Not enough to free him, but the returning power buzzed under his skin. Ace stared with stunned expression; this deal really was going to be something else.

"Lets begin," Ichiji declared.

The air grew electrified, wind without a source banging between the walls. Ichiji stood up and draw his hands together, quietly chanting the words that made Ace's hair stand up. Ace transfixed on the redhead. His mouth curved into the feral smile, unable to contain excitement singing in his veins at the promised feast.

And then Mr. prince plunged his hand deep into his chest, blood spraying around. Sudden scent hit Ace's nose and he took sharp breath, which just made the aroma travel further his lungs, clouding mind and senses. Ichiji reached towards him with the still-beating muscle in his grip.

Ace seized the heart and bite down, savory juices exploding in his mouth, tender flesh ripping between his teeth. The blood stained his mouth so he tried to lick it off, teared between devouring the treat as fast as possible and not wasting a single drop. He was leaping from joy, fresh meat satiating his ever-present hunger for a moment and filling him with new strength. The flame inside his gut grew with every swallowed morsel; when was the last time he had a treat like this?

Engrossed in the food, Ace for a moment forgot about Ichiji, who dropped on his knees, sunglasses clinking on the floor. The blood on his chest dripped slowly, the sigils doing their job. Breathing heavily, he reached forward and grabbed the closest arm. Ace looked back at him, hastily gulping down last bits of the offering.

"Oh, right, the deal. Sorry about that. But man," He glanced down. "You must be pretty desperate! So, let's hear it."

"Give my father the power to conquer all the Northern Kingdoms."

His face froze. "What?"

"You heard me."

"I- No-"

"The heart is valuable enough, we did the math. You have no reason to refuse."

"Hold on for a moment!" shouted Ace. "That's why you're doing it?"

Ichiji squinted his eyes. "Just do it. That was the deal."

"I don't care what happens to your silly kingdoms, whatever their compass points at, but you did all this-" He gestured at the growing red spot on his shirt. "-because your father asked you to?"

"Of course," Ichiji mouthed. "He is my father."

Ace saw red.

"Ah." The ice crept in his voice. "I see. The answer is no then."

That seemed to get the reaction. Ichiji jerked his head, fingers clawing harder into Ace's bicep. "You can't just refuse, that's not how it works! I gave you an offering-"

"Yeah, so I'm going to grant your wish. If your father wants something from me, he can offer me his own heart, instead of sending you."

"My wish is for you to grant my father's."

"Nope, not doing it."

"You-" The argument was interrupted with a coughing fit, Ichiji's grip losing some of its strength. Ace caught his spasming body before it hit the floor and swore, suddenly much too aware of how quickly his life was draining away. He was going to keel over the second he was out of the protection circle. But they couldn't stay here, someone will come here sooner or later and then...

An idea struck him with a flash.

"Hold on, stay still for a moment..."

Ace doubted Ichiji heard him, still trying to catch his breath, so he shifted him around and put a hand on his chest. He exhaled and let the warmth flow towards the hole; the magic meandered its way between frayed skin and muscle, healing what it could, and what it couldn't...

The beating returned, it's pulse synchronized to Ace's own, too soft to be human. There was no time to celebrate; he focused, pulled on the strings surrounded them both, stretched them and clenched his teeth. He braced for what was to come and let go.

The furry of light and colours surrounded them, the force beating the air out of his lungs, astral wind blowing the hair all over the place.

And the next second, it was over. Ace knelt on the sandy beach, retching. Crap. He leaped to his feet, already turning towards the body.

Ichiji could breathe again. He opened his eyes and stiffened when he realized where he was. Or rather where he wasn't.

"Oh, so it did work!"

"How?" Ichiji growled.

The star grinned.

"Well, it wasn't easy with your heart missing, but I managed to-"

"How did you escape?"

It pursed its lips.

"Of course that's what you're worried about. You're in luck, because those two things are connected." It pointed one finger up. "First! I used some of my flame to keep you alive. I can't give you your heart back, since I already ate it, but you shouldn't die for some more time." It grimaced. "It's not a permanent solution, so you'll need to find something else."

Ichiji made an annoyed face. It put another finger up.

"Second! Because of the seals I couldn't just disappear myself, but I could send you away. And we're connected now, so I can't be too far from you. So when I pushed you out, you pulled me with you, and that's how we're here." It grinned again, arms outstretching to the sides, as if showing him the beach. "As far from that basement as I could put us!

"And third!" Next finger joined the rest. "Your wish."

Ichiji gritted his teeth.

"I already told you what I wish for. You refused. There should be some punishment for that."

"Oh don't worry, there is! But I hadn't broken our deal yet." Star crossed its arms. "I fully intend to grant your wish. But only yours."

"Give my father the power to conquer all the Northern Kingdoms."

The vein appeared on its forehead.

"Wrong answer. Let me get this straight." It leaned over him. "With the power I got from your sacrifice I manged to not only put your death on hold, but also get us both out despite all the obstacles. Do you think I would be able to do that if I was going against your heart? The way I see it, on some level, you wanted to leave. And on some level-" he stumbled. "On some level you didn't want to die. So that's how it's going to go. I'll stick around until you can give me your wish, your true wish. I'll grant it and the deal will be finished. And don't try to put any crap like the kingdom stuff."

Ichiji scowled.

"And if I try to come back and tell father about this you will just-"

"I'll just push us as far away as possible! Good, you're learning."

Ichiji glared at Ace. "It does not sound like I have a choice."

"That's something you're used to, isn't it?"

Ichiji didn't answer.

[magical-girl-trucy]

[Werethena AU] the morning after

This drawing is based off a short snippet I imagined during a drive, so I'm including that under the cut

The first thing Ema notices upon entering the living room is Athena fast asleep on her couch. It's actually Athena. Not any of the weird wolf stuff that's Ema was partly convinced she had been gaslit about. Athena Cykes herself.

She must've grabbed some of Ema's clothes, as she is wearing a t-shirt that's a size or two too big and a pair of pajama pants that didn't even reach her ankles. She still, however, has the robotic device around her neck. Its screen is hard to make out by the morning light being cast into the room.

A frown ghosts the redhead's lips as she squeezes one of the throw pillows in her arms. The blanket that had been given to her the other night lays on the floor, most likely the result of Athena kicking it off while sleeping.

A sigh of relief escapes Ema's mouth. It's over. Whatever...that...was, it was over. And Ema can pretend it never happened, and that the woman in front of her is nothing more than a normal lawyer.

Well, she can try to, at least, but there were definitely...details on the figure in front of her that betrays that notion.

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

Snap. (may change later :)

-This is just a quick scene, an experiment with our dear Leo and his dear son. If you're curious about this Oc, I made an earlier post about him a while ago. This may be changed later, I tried drawing it and then I was writing so.. Im still working on how to have Leo as a character, so if its off base lemme know ;) I know your not a Leo gal but.. @redsrooftopprincess just wanna share..I will stop tagging you if it annoys you :V your writing is just awesome so-

(I hardly write scenes, so if this feels rushed. SOrry. Also angst. No fluff on this one Ya'll.)

-

Mucha was staring down hard at the flooring of the dojo, his tired muscles now shaking and aching. His father’s massive form looming over him. Leonardo was seated of course, his steely eyes closed in deep concentration, one who didn't know the mutant would think he was deep in meditation. Curved into a perfect form for the clearing of the mind, Mucha knew the older mutant very well however. He saw the taunt balled muscle of his Master’s shoulders. The hard line of his face, deep breathes too deep to be calm. More acquainted with trying to be. Trying to stitch together his worn thin threaded patience. Mucha knew look intimately, and his mind would not calm. A torrent of nerves rattled and washed his brain as he held his own seated position. Dirt and scratches littering his hide stinging sharply, with every twitch of his overworked flesh. His gaze had flickered to his father’s face after being sat down. He had grown too anxious to stare at the older turtle’s prized teapot. It had long grown cold. His father’s cup was still full, untouched through the night. “You're supposed to have your eyes closed,” A solitary brilliant blue eye opened, Mucha almost choked. “Or will you be breaking those simple rules too?”  Leonardo’s voice cut deeper than his twin blades ever could, any bit of composure that Mucha had was flayed away. “D..dad I'm sorry-” Leo’s fists clenched, brow bunching. “Do not ‘sorry’ me Mucha! You,” A deep breath through his nose, " broke the only rule I gave you.” Mucha bit his tongue to suppress his choked noise of guilt. “A rule I made you swear to, if you were going to take your cousin’s on patrols. What was it again Mucha?” Leonardo tilted his head, anger coating his words in a lowly growl. The young turtle whimpered softly, guilt clogging his throat. “Dad let me- Say. It.” With a shaky breath, Mucha forced out, “Never stay out past four, but Dad-” Leo interrupted him, “The only one, and you broke it! To what? Take a peak at a human?” Mucha opened his beak to argue, that the pretty redhead was more than just a ‘human’. His father blocked the response. “Oh no, I'm sorry, to chase after a human girl endangering your cousins,” Leo’s voice grew angrier with every syllable. “ Almost getting Maddie KILLED.” Mucha winced hard, Madonna's crumpled form flitting across his mind. “Over a crush?!” Leo was losing his temper, now frustration surfacing in a boil. Leonardo’s young son bowed his head, face and eyes burning. If he could just understand. Leo took a deep breath rubbing his temples, while something akin to anger began to overwhelm Mucha’s earlier guilt. His brow furrowing in memory of the girl’s soft crying. His promise to protect her. “Fathe-” “No stop, I don't want your excuses.” While Leonardo’s anger began to temper and harden. Mucha curled his beak into a scowl.

 “Nothing will change the fact you left the lair”, 

To save

“To go and see,”

 My friend

“a human you had no business interacting with! If she had seen you-..” Something flashed across Leo’s face, something that cracked that anger. Slowly his lead gaze narrowed on the new wounds his son had gained. Mucha’s scowl deepened, Leo’s face hardened. “Don't act like such a child, just because you got caught.” Leo leaned back, his breaths evening. “Pouting will just add to your punishment.” Mucha opened his beak once more, gaze pleading. “Nope, you're in trouble kid. No getting out of it.” “Dad-” Urgent and eyes glassy he tried again. “Enough, I won't hear it. You're not weaselling out of this.” Leo stood easily rolling his shoulders, face showing disappointment in his child’s seeming protests. Mucha felt the tears agonise his eyes at the expression, he hated that look. He just wanted to explain. But his Father had no care for it. That hurt. Rage snapped in his throat as Leo smirked. Condescendingly. “Not fun being a punk huh?” The jerk's smile dropped. “Maybe you’ll think about it next time, before you drag your cousins on some venture. Right at dawn may I add.” There was coldness glinting in the mutant’s eyes, Mucha felt the hurt filled frustration run over. It coated his heart, drowning his guilt at disobeying. The pain of disappointing the most important person in his life. Of Dad not listening, never listening. He felt an angry sob tear from his throat. Leo stiffened. Tears overflowed and Leo sighed softly. “Mucha-OH FUCK YOU!” Leo blanched. Mucha strained to stand, the sixteen year old’s legs trembling from jumping and climbing for hours on end.  Three fingered fist clenched and breathing heavy Mucha began, and demanded his Father’s attention this time…

[bawdybooster]

While I've got it on my mind right now, I'd also like to post some more artwork I commissioned... oh god I got these six months ago.

These art pieces were picked up from RingedR on Twitter featuring Batgirl and his OC Street Viper (who's often paired up with her), both in and out of Uniform. I'd intended to write up a story for both of these, but only got around to one so... ANYWAY HERE IT IS

---

Barbara’s life had been utterly miserable.  Crime in Burnside had been on the rise for the past few weeks, her old injuries from the Joker were acting up, her Class Finals were rearing their ugly head — everything seemed to be batting up for a perfect hit of stress and frustration upon her life.  She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a good night’s sleep!

So when her Naga Girlfriend Pranjal offered to grant her a reprieve from the world and let her relax for just a moment, Barbara was… hesitant, to say the least.

“That sounds wonderful, Praj,” she sighed, “But I really can’t afford to step away from my work right now.  Give me till Finals are done, and then we can talk about it.”

An indignant hiss filled Barbara’s bedroom at the sound of the thought.  The green-eyed naga eyed her love with a concoction of sympathy and frustration.  “Oh no, little bat,” she scowled, “You need a rest now.  All of this can wait.”

“It really can’t Pra–”

“What time did you eat today?”

Barbara thought hard.  Never a good sign.

“At… Seven?”

“Morning or Evening?”

The redhead gulped.  She honestly didn’t know.

“Um… Well, I–”

Barbara’s train of thought was interrupted as a coil of green scales saddled itself around her waist and lifted her up out of her chair.  Pranjal tutted at her love, taking a seat on the desk Barbara was once seated at.  “You need to take better care of yourself, and that, little bat, starts with a good rest.”

“I’m fine, Pranjal!”  Barbara cried, pushing at the coil hugging her so comfortably.  “Really!  There’s no need to… to…”  Barbara faltered, finding herself hunched over at eye-level with Pranjal’s exposed midriff, the Naga’s green crop-top leaving one of her best features exposed for her love.  Those toned muscles were a perfect vortex for her exhausted mind, drawing her eyes toward Pranjal’s navel and the chain of emerald jewels hanging from it.  Barbara averted her eyes from the sight, a deep red blush rolling over her cheeks.

“…Don’t tell me you wore that just for this.”  She murmured with a hint of embarrassment.

“I did, my love,” Pranjal soothed.  “I know what you like just as much as you need.  And you need to rest that heavy head of yours…” She winked playfully at her caught girlfriend, giving the coil around her redheaded love a gentle squeeze.  “And I know jussst how to do that~”

Barbara perked up at a tapping sound.  She turned her gaze to Pranjal’s left hand, the rhythmic thrum of her fingers tapping methodically against the table.  Soothingly.  Hypnotically.  She shut her eyes tight, turning away from the temptation surrounding her.

“Please, Pranjal…” the redhead murmured, “I need to… need to focus on–”

“Focus on what, dear?”  Pranjal teased, a coy grin spread across her lips.  “Focus on the thrumming of my fingers as they gently guide your mind down to their rhythm?  My lustrous tail slowly wrapping its way around your aching body?  Or my wonderful midriff which you love to look at so much?”

A second coil wrapped its way down from Barbara’s waist, hugging tenderly around her hips.  The redhead stifled a moan crawling up her throat, a whimper of desire dripping out her lips.  It was true that turning her focus away from her work and onto Pranjal did seem to be relieving her of her stress.  And it all felt so relaxing… that rhythmic thrumming, those coils holding her legs so closely, that ever-tempting midriff…

A quick glance couldn’t hurt, right?  Just a moment to take in the sight of her love, and then back to her work.  She could take her time to adore her girlfriend when she was done with Finals and not studying like a madwoman.

An empty hand graced her cheek, coaxing Barbara with the temptation to come out and play.  One eye opened wearily, glancing a peek at Pranjal’s beauty.  Oh, what a sight she was to look upon.

But she couldn’t admire her for long — Pranjal’s hand took to Barbara’s chin, holding her gently as she lifted her face to look up at her love.

“No,” the Naga soothed, “You don’t need to focus on those right now…”

Barbara gasped at the beautiful, mesmeric sight before her.

“All you need to focus on… is my eyes~”

Barbara gulped as her vision was caught in a storm of twisting spirals.  Pranjal’s eyes pulsed with hypnotic bliss, shining in ring after ring of lovely light and dashing dark green.  They pulsed and bellowed to the same rhythm as Pranjal’s fingers, thrumming and beating into her eyes with rhythmic precision.  With each measure, they descended upon Barbara’s mind, briefly granting a reprieve for but a moment before starting their march again.  And again.  And again.

Green swept over Barbara’s sleep-deprived mind, surrounding her in those colors that reminded her all too well of her girlfriend and her lovely image.  Green spirals wrapped snugly over her vision, washing over her own eyes until they mirrored nothing but Pranjal’s beautiful gaze.  Dark Green in one eye, Light Green in the other.  Starting from her pupils and pouring out into ribbons of dazzling entrancement as Light Green replaced Dark and Dark Green replaced Light one after another.

Something curled over the redhead’s lips for the first time in what had to have been ages — a smile.  Not just some idle, passive twinkle but a full, joyful grin of hypnotic pleasure that seemed to stretch from ear to ear.  One that thought not of crime or classwork or aching pains but of blissful relaxation.  Barbara’s mind was empty of all thoughts but the pure ecstatic peace brought to her by her love.

As Pranjal’s eyes slowed from their serpentine entrancement, her coils gave a comforting squeeze around Barbara’s body, their bulk now wrapped from her waist down to her feet.  The tip of her tail flicked up Barbara’s shirt, revealing her midriff to her delight.  The Naga giggled at the sight of it — she loved everything about Barbara, from her freckles to her hair to the way she seemed so cute when she got angry, but even she had to admit to having a personal taste for how she stayed fit.

“You know, you’re so pretty when you let yourself relax Babs~”  She cooed in her ear.

“Pretty… relax…”  Barbara grinned blissfully.

Pranjal’s coils slowly began to lift Barbara to stand her straight, her redheaded body laying blissfully pliant and relaxed within their grasp.  Her tail stood her up, but as it relaxed its grip Barbara stumbled and leaned forward, smiling blissfully all the while.  The coils jumped into action, holding her steady as Pranjal balanced her love’s delicate chin on her finger.

Pranjal giggled at the sight of her.  “You must be so tired after all that hard work,” she hissed with delight “Aren’t you, my little bat?”

“So… Tired…” Barbara repeated.  She liked the sound of that, especially hearing it from her love.

“You must be so desperate to Sleep, my love.  So eager to Sleep and let slumber occupy your thoughts.”

Barbara’s wide eyes of green began to settle, half-lidded and slowly succumbing to thoughts of rest.  Sleeping sounded so good to her.  She wanted nothing more than to sleep.  To let Pranjal guide her down into sleep.  “Sleep…” she murmured emptily, a yawn rising up from her throat as a coil of green scales wound its way over her chest.

“Yes~”  Pranjal assured her.  “Think of nothing but Sleep.  Let your mind relax and unwind under my watchful eye.  You want nothing more than to Sleep~”

“I want… to… to…”  Barbara trailed off, her eyes fluttering down into restful slumber.  As blissful sleep put her thoughts and worries to rest, Pranjal gave a soft smile at the sight of her love bound in her coils.

She slithered over to Barbara’s bed, lifting the sheets before laying Barbara gently inside.  She gave one last reassuring hug with her coils before slowly unwinding herself from her girlfriend’s body.  As the last few inches of her tail left the bed, she pulled the sheets over Barbara and tucked her in, kissing her gently goodnight.

…but not without whispering something in her ear.

“When you wake tomorrow,”  Pranjal whispered, “You will want to do nothing but relax with me for the day~”

Barbara sighed at the thought.  An entire day to relax with her girlfriend sounded quite lovely indeed~

[peanutbutterandfailure]

DilucXGN!Reader-"Real Identity "

Stories of Mondstadts “Darknight Hero” have been circulating the city like wildfire. It seemed like everyone and their cousin had some kind of sighting or interaction with the supposed vigilante; even if it was nothing more than “I saw a shadow disappearing down an alley the other night, it must have been the Darknight Hero!” Other encounters were wildly outlandish and really made you wonder how credible the stories were. It was beginning to seem like you were the only person within the cities walls who had yet to encounter the vigilante of the night.

And that was really starting to grate on your nerves.

If it wasn't for the Abyss Order personally reaching out to you for help in eradicating the supposed Darknight Hero, you wouldn't have believed the legend. You knew how the rumor mill in the city worked, it was how you got most of your information to report back to your superiors. But the Darknight Hero was slippery. Impossible for you to pin down. It was like trying to catch a shadow. But you would find him if it was the last thing you did. The Abyss made you an offer that you couldn't refuse.

You slam your pint glass down on the bar in Angel's Share and let out a frustrated groan. Diluc was tending bar that evening, and he looked over at you with a quirked brow. "Something bothering you, y/n?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. He walks over to you and gently pulls the glass out of your hand before turning and refilling it. He always did that for you when he noticed you were stressed, free refills on the house. You always told him he didn't have to, but he insisted.

Diluc was always like that with you. Constantly worrying about you. Constantly taking care of you. You joked around and called him a mother hen, but you really didn’t mind. Actually, you enjoyed it. You weren’t at all ashamed to admit you liked his attention. You couldn't figure out if his affection was anything more than platonic and you were afraid to ask. You were attracted to him, how couldn't you be, but you knew that one day you would have to leave Mondstadt. Leaving Diluc behind as friend would be hard enough, you didn't want the heartache of having to leave him behind as a partner.

"I'm tired of hearing all these stories about that stupid Darknight Hero!" You exclaim as he turns back to you with your drink. "That's all anyone talks about, and it's driving me crazy!" You look at your handsome friend over the rim of your glass while you take a long drink. Being the owner of both the winery and the tavern, you're sure he's heard his fair share of stories. "What do you think, Diluc?"

"Hm? About the Darknight Hero?" He leans against the bar across from you and ponders for a moment before answering. "I don't hold much merit to it. I think they are tall tales and nothing more."

You purse your lips and take another drink. You should have expected that the stoic redhead would give you an answer like that. So much for getting good gossip from Diluc, you think. But I'm tired of chasing around rumors and whispers. Maybe its time to try and draw him out again myself. You had attempted to lure the Darknight Hero into an ambush on multiple occasions, but it had yet to work. But you wouldn't give up. You wouldn't rest until you had the Darknight Hero in your grasp, slowly snuffing out his life. You wouldn't stop until you got what the Abyss owed you.

So you started spreading seeds. A rumor here. A dropped note there. You slowly weaved a fictional narrative that the Abyss was growing increasingly active in Wolvendom, plotting something. You sprinkled in some speculation that several Lectors were spotted in the area. Supposedly they were even kidnapping people and performing some type of strange ritual on them. If that didn't draw out the vigilante, you didn't know what would. The rumors within the city walls spread and grew, taking hold like an invasive weed. The panic in the city was palpable. The Darknight Hero would have no choice but to act.

Finally, the day came. The day of the supposed gathering of the Abyss Order in Wolvendom. You could barely contain your excitement. This has to work…. It HAS to! You think to yourself as you prepare. Just after sunset, you draw the curtains to block the view of any potential prying eyes. You're in the study of your house, the family home you inherited after your parents tragically "passed away" while traveling in Snezhnaya. A huge memorial service was held for them, to honor "the two upstanding citizens of Mondstadt". The city mourned but you did not, because you knew they just went home.

Walking up to a bookshelf, you easily push it out of the way to reveal a hidden door. The door once led to a small powder room that was intended for the convenience of whoever utilized the study, but it had long ago been converted into a secret storage room by your father. A storage room that, if discovered, would mean your arrest and downfall. You smiled to yourself as you took in your small treasure trove. A wealth of information that, if placed in the wrong hands, could fully mean the end for peace in all of Teyvat. Information that could ruin the governments of all seven nations. Oh yes, even your homeland. You were loyal, of course, but you weren't foolish. You were smart enough to know how to protect your standing in the position you held.

You don your Fatui garb and attach your mask to your hip before picking up a small wooden box that held your most precious possession. You could feel the power it held even through the oak wood. Lifting the lid, you gently take your Delusion in your hand and feel your heart flutter as the power surges into you. "Hello, my darling…" you whisper to it as you attach it to your uniform. You still remember the day you received it from the Tsaritsa, your parents and Pierro smiling proudly. It was the best day of your life, and the last time you cried. It was one of the last days you felt much of anything, if you were being honest with yourself.

Stepping out of the closet, you close the door and make sure the shelf is back flush against the wall before grabbing a cloak and exiting your home, slipping into the night. In your excitement, it doesn't take long for you to reach Wolvendom. Drawing a dagger from your belt, you pull off your cloak and slash it a few times before discarding it on the road. You create fake drag marks in the direction of your ambush point before hiding yourself up a tall tree. If you learned anything from rumors of the Darknight Hero, it was that he had a huge savior complex. Sitting on a sturdy branch with your back against the trunk, your eyes never leave the path below you. You've been waiting so long, you weren't going to slip up and miss your chance. Your reward was almost in your grasp.

You don't know how long you sat there, transfixed and unmoving, but eventually your keen eyes saw a shadow separate itself from the others in the forest and approach your discarded cloak. You lean forward slightly, assessing the person. Was this him? It had to be, who else would be out here this late at night. Your thoughts are confirmed when they step into a patch of moonlight and you can clearly see them. "There you are," you whisper to yourself as you eye up the Darknight Hero. Tall and lean, he's dressed in all black with a hood pulled over his head and an owl mask covering his face. With near silent footsteps, he walks over and kneels down beside your cloak, gently picking it up. He examines it for a few seconds before holding it up to his nose. Did that freak just smell my cloak? You wonder, but you don't have much time to think about it, because in an instant he's standing and hurrying down the path, following the drag marks you made.

It's now or never you tell yourself as you put on your mask and activate your Delusion. You only have a moment to savor the rush of power you get from it as it transforms you. The second it's complete, you drop from your spot in the tree and land with a soft thud behind the man. He whirls quickly and staggers back in surprise. "Fatui!" he spits. "What are you doing here?"

"I have some business with you, Mr. Darknight Hero," you purr, loving the way your voice sounded under the influence of you Delusion.

You can see his eyes are narrow and suspicious behind his mask. "If you're here to keep me from stopping the Abyss-"

You cut him off with a laugh. "Oh sweetie, there was no Abyss Order. No Lectors. No kidnappings or rituals.” You hold your hand up beside your mouth as if you were sharing a secret with him. “It was me the whole time!” You giggle.

“Then are you the reason y/n is missing?” He snarls, holding up your cloak. You were surprised that the Darknight Hero was someone that knew you, especially someone who knew you well enough to recognize your clothes and, apparently, your scent. But you recovered quickly.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say with a shrug. “What are you going to do about it big boy?”

The taunt works, just like you hoped it would. He growls and drops your cloak to summon his weapon, but before he can even get the claymore swung around, you have your polearm connecting with his legs. He’s knocked off balance and falls to the ground, but he's quick to recover. Rolling quickly, he's back on his feet and lands a kick to your side. "Where's y/n?!" He roars, picking up his claymore as you right yourself.

"I'll never tell~!" You taunt in a singsong voice as you launch towards him. As the two of you exchange blows, you can understand why the Abyss has been having issues with this man. Even with the aid of your Delusion, he's a formidable opponent. His claymore blazes with the searing fire of his Pyro Vision, and you say a silent prayer of thanks to the Tsaritsa for choosing Hydro for your Delusion. At one point he gains the upper hand in the fight and slams you back into a tree. You let out a gasp as the wind gets knocked out of you. "Ooh, I like it when you treat me rough." You taunt.

"Shut up!" He practically screams at you. "Shut up and tell me what you want with y/n?"

You bark out a laugh as you summon more energy from your Delusion. "I don't want them! I'm just here for you!" You shove him away with all your power and smile with unashamed glee as he trips and falls on his back, his claymore falling just out of his reach. You jump forward and pin him to the ground, your heart pounding in your chest. "Finally," you giggle, pinning his hands above his head as you fumble excitedly for your dagger. "After all this time, I finally have you and I'll get what the Abyss promised me."

He stares up at you wide eyed as you ready your dagger, but just as you're about to strike, you falter. "No…" You whisper as you notice his hood falling back, exposing a few strands of bright red hair. A hair color you have only ever seen on two people. "No, it can't be…." Dropping the dagger beside his head, you let go of his hands so you can rip off his mask. Your stomach drops as you stare down into the familiar face of your lifelong friend, Diluc Ragnivindr.

You're too shocked to notice that he's picked up a fist sized rock until he smashes it into your temple.

******

Diluc sighs in relief as the Fatui agent crumples to the forest floor beside him. For a minute he really thought this was going to be his last fight, but something about him had distracted the agent long enough for him to act. He sits up and turns to watch as the power from the Delusion leaves the agents body and they return to normal.

Curious as to who almost took his life, Diluc reaches over and removes the agents mask only to fully understand the reaction they had to seeing him.

His world shatters around him as he stares down at the unconscious body of his friend. The friend he had some day hoped to make his partner.

He had been willing to kill the agent his was fighting to save y/n, completely unaware that was who was behind the mask the entire time. The thought made him sick to his stomach. Leaning over their limp body, Diluc checks for a pulse, letting out a huge sigh of relief when he found one. But the question now was what to do with them? He couldn't just leave them here in the woods of Wolvendom. But, now knowing that they were apparently working for both the Fatui and the Abyss, he couldn't just take them back to their house. He wasn't sure if he could trust y/n anymore. That thought broke his heart.

Not knowing what else to do, he grabs their cloak to put it back on them. Did they see me smell it? he thought, embarrassed, as he fastens it around their neck. Pulling the hood up and making sure the cloak covers their Fatui uniform, Diluc picks y/n up starts carrying them towards his house.

The whole walk back, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to one comment y/n had made during the fight.

I like it when you treat me rough…

******

Your head pounds in tandem with your heart as you start to regain consciousness. You let out a groan and struggle to open your eyes. Everything is blurry and the room seems to be spinning, which makes your stomach turn. You close your eyes as you pitch forward, only to have something stop you. You open your eyes slightly to see that your arms are bound to a wooden chair. Kicking your legs in frustration, you realize they're also tied tight to the chair. You growl and struggle with them, only to moan and let your head droop as the pain in your head doubles and your stomach turns again. You feel a gentle hand on the back of your head and hear the soft command "Drink," as a cup gets pressed to your lips.

You smell the wine before you take a large gulp of the alcohol, then another. You quickly drain the glass, cursing yourself slightly. It could have been poisoned. But if your captor wanted you dead, you would be. So that raised the question of what they wanted. You tried to remember what you had happened to you when your captor stepped around you to sit the glass down on the table across from you, and all your memories came flooding back.

Diluc turns to you and leans back against the table. His face is sad as he looks down at you, restrained in the chair. He says nothing as the two of you stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, he breaks. "Why?" He asks you, his voice cracking slightly.

"Diluc, I'm going to need a bit more clarification on what you want to know." You say bluntly. There's no reason to play dumb.

"I want to know the answer to everything. And please, don't lie to me anymore." That response was enough to drive a dagger into your cold, unfeeling heart.

"I'm a Fatui spy. My parents were born in Snezhnaya, technically I was too but the story was that I was born while they were on a business trip. My family has been spies for the Tsaritsa for generations."

"So that's how you got this?" Your stomach drops and your eyes widen as he holds up your Delusion. Your head was in so much pain that you didn't even notice it was gone.

"Diluc, please, give that back." You plead, straining against the binds holding you to the chair. You don't have a Vision that you could use to help you break free, and without your Delusion you were powerless. "Please!" He stares at you, his normally stoic face clearly showing his shock. "That was gifted to me directly from the Tsaritsa herself!" You explain, straining more.

"Finish explaining, then we'll see." He says, dropping his hand to his side. Your eyes follow your precious Delusion hungrily, longing to hold it in your hands again.

"We've lived in Mondstadt for years, no one knows we're not native to the region. We work in secret, I don't associate at all with the other agents who reside in the city." Your speech is strained and choppy as you watch his long fingers fiddle with your Delusion.

"So you've always been lying to me?" He says, his voice low.

Your eyes jump to his for the first time. "Not maliciously," you explain. "You weren't supposed to find out, Luc. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Then what about tonight!" He barks.

"I didn't know it was you! How would I?" You cry out. "You told me yourself that you didn't believe the stories of the Darknight Hero! I had no information to go off of! All I knew was the Abyss made me an incredible offer if I would take out the one person in Mondstadt who was hindering their plans!"

"What did they offer you?" He asks, making your eyes drop back down to your beautiful blue Delusion.

"More power…" You whispered.

"More power?"

"Yes! They swore they would add Abyssal energy to my Delusion to make me even more powerful! How could I say no?"

"Y/n…" He whispers sadly. Your eyes are still on your Delusion, so you can't see the heartbreak and pity on his face as he watches you staring hungrily at it. You look like an addict eyeing up your next fix. "Look at me," he requests. When you don't, he steps over and grabs you by the chin, forcing you to look up at him. The angle and position is incredibly suggestive, and both of you are very aware of that. You can't help the flutter you feel in your chest as he forces you around. He has to clear his throat before he continues. "I know the 'you' I've always known is not who I thought, but I know you're strong. You don't need this thing."

"Yes I do, Luc! You don't understand!"

"Trust me, I do. I used a Delusion myself for quite a while. I know how they wear you down, sap you of your emotions, make you dependent on them. I can’t imagine how you must feel, having used one for so long…” he trails off sadly, still looking down at you.

“I hardly feel anything, Diluc,” you confess softly. “I hate saying this, but… fighting you, that was the most emotion I’ve felt in a long time.” Your eyes are downcast and you miss the faint flush he gets as he once again recalls your comment during the fight. “But you’ve always had a habit of making me feel things.” You say the last part softly, half hoping he doesn’t hear you. But he did.

Releasing your chin, he takes a few steps back from you. “Y/n, I’m not just doing this for the safety of Mondstadt. I’m also doing this because I love you.” You don’t even have time to react to his statement before you’re screaming in horror as he drops your beloved Delusion to the floor and crushes it under his boot.

You scream out in agony. You curse Diluc. You throw so much of a fit that you end up tipping the chair over onto its side. He lets you there, on the floor and crying out in misery until your wails have turned into quiet sobs and your tears have mostly dried. Gently, he grabs the chair and sits you back upright. “How could you do that to me, Luc? You say you love me, but then you do that? And you have the nerve to call me a liar!” You spit at him.

“I told you I did it because I love you,” he says, crouching down in front of you and gently cupping your face as you glare at him. “Besides, you don’t need that thing to feel…” he trails off, seeming almost embarrassed. “Let me make you feel.” He finishes brazenly before pushing his mouth against yours.

You’re shocked for a few moments as his mouth moves against yours, but you come to your senses quickly and bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He jerks back from you, blood trickling down his chin as you lick it off of your lips. “You bastard,” you growl. You never thought you’d say this, but you hate him. You want to punch him. You want to slam him against the wall. You want him to pin you underneath his warm, heavy body as he fucks you senseless.

You want him.

He must see that realization on your face because he’s back, gripping your chin in his hand as he roughly kisses you. You suck on his lip, tasting the blood that you drew. His tongue darts into your mouth, tasting you. You bite that too, but not as hard. He moans into your mouth as his hands travel down to the bindings holding you in the chair. You shiver as he lightly runs his fingers down your arm. He pulls back from you and whispers huskily in your ear “I’d undo these ropes, but how do I know I can trust you?”

You pick up on what he’s doing and play along. “You don’t, but I guess that’s a risk you’re going to have to take,” you purr back. He growls softly and uses the heat from his vision to snap the ropes binding your arms and legs. The second you're free, you’re on your feet and pushing him towards the nearest wall. Concussion be damned, you were having Diluc.

He gasps as his back hits the wall, and he quickly follows it with a moan as you start sucking on his neck. His large hand grips the back of your head, holding you there for several moments before pulling you back. His mouth is back on yours and in an instant he has you pinned against the wall. His hands squeeze your hips, so you jump and wrap your legs around him. He presses his body against yours as he pins your hands above your head. The two of you are gasping and panting, small moans escaping the two of you as your bodies move against each other. Releasing your hands, he wraps his arms around you and walks to the table, laying you down on it. "What am I going to do with you?" His voice is deep and husky, his eyes full of lust as he stares down at you.

"Hopefully punish me," you say, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him down to you. In all the years you've known Diluc, he'd always been stoic and deliberate. A man full of resolve and self control. But that night, you saw a different side to him. Animalistic and wild. One could even say feral. You loved being the reason he lost all control. It gave you a feeling of power that your Delusion never could.

[maria021015]

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 28 AHEAD!

“Okay, fire!” Lydia called out and the ten slivers of water Zaida was controlling flew through the air like knives at bulletspeed as her palms snapped forward and outwards from their parallel position, as if she was pushing - and technically, she was. The empty water bottles stacked atop the Lacrosse bleachers clattered to the grass in shredded pieces. Unfortunately, the bench beneath them also split into two, leaving one side drooping as it lost connection to its centre support beam.

“You’re getting stronger,” Stiles noted with an impressed nod as he climbed up the steps to run his fingers along the sharp edge of the serrated metal seat.

“Aim is still a bit rusty.” Zaida grimaced at the damage she’d caused. “You think Coach will notice?”

“Coach still hasn’t noticed my name isn’t ‘Bilinski’.” Stiles snorted. “He’s not gonna see it.”

“We’ve been practising for a whole month, and I’m still no closer to perfecting my blocks. We should be focusing on that, instead of this. This, I’m good at.” Zaida huffed, resting her hands on her hips. Using her powers always left her fatigued. “The other day, I was in the library and I felt you get absolutely slammed at practice. Lucky the place was dead, otherwise people would have seen me get knocked on my ass seemingly out of nowhere.”

Since practising with Lydia and Stiles, Zaida’s powers had been getting stronger. Unfortunately, that meant all of her abilities were heightened, including her telempathy. Instead of just feeling echoes of emotions, she was starting to feel physical sensations as if they were happening to her, and her nervous system was responding in kind. The impact of Stiles getting knocked down had caused her own muscles to respond to the force, and she’d fallen too.

“We’ll work on blocks tomorrow. You’ve pushed yourself hard enough for today.” Stiles pointed out with a worried glance. He handed her a spare bottle of water - a full one, this time - and she took it gratefully, unscrewing the cap and drawing it to her lips.

“I should probably head home soon so I don’t get another lecture.” She rolled her eyes just thinking about what was probably awaiting her at the apartment.

“Xander’s still giving you crap about training?” The boy asked, looking to Lydia for an answer as Zaida sculled her water.

“He thinks that the more powerful she gets, the easier it will be for other supernaturals to sense what she is.” The redhead explained with a shrug. “And he’s probably not wrong.”

“At least he’s stopped leaving case files of werewolf victims around the apartment for me to ‘accidentally’ find. Guess he finally got the message that I’m not going to abandon you guys just because Scott’s a wolf.” Zaida wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Things are getting better, but they’re still tense. Just wait until he sees the results from Harris’ pop quiz today.”

“That exam was hard, don’t beat yourself up over it, Zay.” Lydia sighed, encouraging her friend.

“What did you even get? Because I guarantee it was better than me.” Stiles chuckled humourlessly.

“She got an eighty-four, it’s not even that bad.” The redhead assured the brunette and Stiles’ jaw dropped.

“That’s the mark you’re ashamed of? That’s still a ‘B’.” He pointed out. “I got a sixty-five.”

“It’s a B minus .” She reiterated. “Which isn’t good enough for Xander. I’m usually a straight ‘A’ student, and I finally managed to get my grades back up after all the Kanima business, only for that asshole of a chemistry teacher to surprise us with the quiz from the ninth circle of hell.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it was the ninth circle. Possibly the sixth?” Lydia jested with a tilt of her head and a sly smirk.

“Yeah, maybe for you. You still got a ninety-seven.” Zaida scoffed and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder dramatically. “God, I can’t wait for summer.”

“That makes both of us.” Stiles groaned. “Four long weeks to go, and I am counting down the days.”

“Let’s just hope Harris’ final isn’t as bad as the quiz was. I need to keep my average up for end-of-year reports.” Zaida pursed her lips. “We’re still all studying for the English exam on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, Scott and Allison are going to meet us at the library.” Stiles nodded in confirmation.

“Because that won’t be awkward at all.” The brunette drawled sarcastically. The two still hadn’t spoken to each other since their break-up, much to Scott’s dismay. Zaida herself hadn’t exchanged any conversation past polite pleasantries with the huntress. Allison had moved into an apartment building just down the street from Zaida’s and whilst she was still part of the group, she was distant from all of them except Lydia. Zaida found it funny how the girl had thrown the redhead to the side for months only to then latch onto her when she had no one else. Well, not funny so much as slightly unbelievable. “Isaac’s coming too.”

“Great.” Stiles’ mood instantly shifted as his eyes darkened. He’d made it abundantly clear that he liked the boy about as much as he trusted him - which was not at all.

“Jackson might come too.” Lydia piped up with a hopeful glint in her green eyes.

“That’s what he always says, but you know he never shows up,” Zaida spoke gently, knowing it was a touchy subject for the girl. Jackson was moving to London as soon as Sophmore year was over. He still was coming to terms with everything that had happened, and apparently being around them just reminded him of the things he’d done, so he usually avoided it. Usually, being always.

“This time could be different,” Lydia suggested, still holding on. Stiles looked away, busying himself with tying his shoelaces - even though Zaida could have sworn they were already tied. She could feel a pang of sadness in her chest. Was it his, or was it her own? She couldn’t really tell sometimes.

“So, you really think she's gonna come back to you?” Stiles asked as he carried his Lacrosse equipment across the field, his best friend next to him.

“Yeah, I know she is.” Scott insisted, still convinced that he and Allison would eventually get back together. “What about you and Lydia?”

“Ahh. Well, the ten-year plan for making Lydia fall in love with me is currently on the back burner. I don’t think she’s ever gonna notice me in that way, man, and I can’t force it. If it’s gonna happen then It’ll happen on its own.” Stiles shrugged. He wasn’t bitter about it by any means, but he couldn’t deny it was still disappointing.

“Why don't you just ask her out?” Scott suggested as if it were the easiest and most obvious option in the world.

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles scoffed sceptically. “Why don't you just get into the goal and help me make team captain like you promised, there, big guy!”

“Hey, you know what I just realized?” Scott said as he stepped between the goalposts. “I'm right back where I started.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles questioned, not quite understanding what he was getting at.

“I mean, no lacrosse. No popularity. No girlfriend. Nothing.” The boy shrugged as he answered.

“Dude, you still got me!” Stiles huffed, feigning at being offended.

“I had you before.” Scott smiled, spotting a redhead and brunette approaching from the other end of the field.

“Yeah, and you still got me, okay? It's a life fulfilled.” Stiles grinned, scooping the ball into his net with a tilt of his stick. “Now, remember - no wolf powers.”

“Got it.” Scott nodded and got into position.

“No, I meant it! No super-fast reflexes, no super-eyesight, no hearing…none of that crap, okay?” Stiles eyed his best friend warily. “You promise?”

“Would you just take the shot already?” Scott cried out in exasperation, and Stiles pulled the stick back and launched the ball through the air. Scott’s eyes glowed yellow as he caught the ball with superhuman speed.

“I said no wolf powers!” Stiles complained, appalled.

“Scott cheats during games, why wouldn’t he cheat in practice too?” Zaida’s voice from behind him made Stiles jump, swinging the Lacrosse stick around and unintentionally almost knocking the girl in the head. Lydia stood just a little way off, crossing her arms and waving hello.

“Watch where you point that thing.” Zaida managed to dodge the equipment easily. “Last day of Sophmore year is over and you guys are…practicing Lacrosse?”

“Well, you got any better suggestions?” Scott asked, approaching from the goals.

“I do, actually. The rest of us are celebrating with burgers and drinks at the Preserve. Wanna come?” She offered with a smirk.

“The rest of you being…?” Stiles questioned with a narrowed gaze.

“Yes, Isaac is coming.” Zaida rolled her eyes, knowing what he was really asking. She looked past him to Scott. “Allison’s gonna be there too.”

The wolf looked at his best friend with hopeful eyes, and Stiles sighed heavily, giving in. “ Fine .” he relented.

“We’ll pack up the gear and meet you in the car park." Scott nodded and both boys packed up their things and headed towards the locker rooms.

Lydia and Zaida didn’t have to wait long in her black Beetle for the boys to arrive and hop into the Jeep. Lydia pulled out of her car spot and waited for Stiles to do the same before driving off, leading the way to the spot where they’d organised to meet the others. Isaac and Allison had been tasked with picking up drinks and food respectively. When they got there, they all helped carry something through the woods to the spot that overlooked the whole of Beacon Hills. The summer air was hot even though the sun was dipping under the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange. They ate, and laughed, and some of them drank until only the dull moonlight and twinkling lights of town miles away from them illuminated the night.

Zaida was nursing a sour grape cruiser, sitting alone on a rock overlooking town when Stiles noticed she’d gone strangely quiet. He could immediately sense something was off as he took a seat next to her and bumped her leg playfully with his knee. “What’s wrong?” He asked - the others were too distracted to notice.

“Lydia just told me that her dad’s coming to pick her up on Sunday. He’s taking her to spend a week with him in Los Angeles.” She explained in a low voice.

“But…weren’t you girls supposed to leave for Monterey on Sunday?” He realised and Zaida nodded.

“I know how much Lydia wants to see her dad though. He’s never around, and I couldn’t ask her to miss out for me. We can always go another time.” Zaida tried to brush it off even though she was extremely disappointed. She’d been looking forward to their trip for months.

“You know…I could still take you?” Stiles offered and she looked to him in surprise. “Don’t look so shocked. I once promised you I would take you, didn’t I? I’m a man of my word.”

“Even though I ditched you to go with Lydia?” She arched a brow, still feeling slightly guilty for pushing Stiles out of the trip.

“I get it - it made more sense for the two of you to go. It would have raised less suspicion.” He shrugged.

“How would we explain it?” She wondered. “Xander thought I was going to Lydia’s lake house with her.”

“You can still go ahead with that story. Lydia won’t be in town and Xander would never find out she was actually with her dad in LA and not with you.” He suggested.

“What would you tell your dad?” Zaida questioned, pointing out the flaw in his plan.

“I could say I’m going on a camping trip with Scott?” It was the first thing that came to his mind. “Dad won’t question it.”

“The problem with that is Scott’s not going to be out of town. What if they run into each other? And won’t Scott be wanting to hang out? What are you going to tell him about where you are? And what if Xander and your dad talk and they realise that both of us are supposedly out of town on separate trips? They’d definitely think something’s up.” She listed everything that could possibly go wrong, her mind working on overdrive.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” He admitted and scoured his brains for an answer. “Okay, new plan. You keep your story the way it is. I’ll tell my Dad that I’m staying at Scott’s for a few days, so if he does talk to Xander he’ll think I’m still in town. Then I’ll tell Scott I’ve got the flu and can’t go out. He’ll be so busy moping about Allison going to France for the summer that he won’t be going anywhere, so Dad won’t see him in town. Then when we get back you just tell Xander the trip got cut short because Lydia’s dad wanted to take her to LA. It means we’ll only get a couple of days, but it’s better than nothing.”

“That…” Zaida slowly nodded as she processed everything, her excitement sparking. “That could actually work.”

“So…is that a yes?” He raised a brow and turned to him with a broad smile.

“That’s a definitely!” Zaida agreed and held up her drink in a cheersing motion before taking a long swig. She’d get to go to the beach house after all.

[corvo-bianco-lilacs]

behave for trissefer? 😊

You know I always love when you send me Trissefer requests :D I'm taking a bit of creative liberty with this one though, lol

---------

Triss usually enjoyed herself at Court gatherings. The food, the festivities, the music, and the maidens. But this time, there was only one woman on her mind.

The raven-haired beauty that was currently holding a spell on her, both physically and sexually.

Yennefer of Vengerberg, once a rival for Geralt's love, now a warm body who occupied her chambers every night, leading to many mornings of not being able to properly walk. But Triss enjoyed every waking moment of Yennefer's company, and her deviousness.

The redhead appraoched the woman of her affections, gently slipping her hand into hers, intertwining their fingers together. Yen offered her hand a gentle squeeze, but continued her conversation with some Lord or another, drawing a small pout to Triss' lips.

This was the part she hated about Court gatherings. Yen's attention was never fully on her, or her wants, or desires. And at this moment, all Triss desired was Yen and those long, slender fingers of hers. And, perhaps, a few locks of that silken hair tangled around her own fingers.

Triss tried to get Yen's attention again, bumping the other woman's hip with her own, frowning when it didn't get her the reaction she was hoping for. Yen continued to chat with this Lord, never missing a beat, never needing him to repeat himself even as Triss continued to try and drag her attention away from this prattling chicken of a man.

Before she conjured up her next act of mischief to gain Yen's attention, the man was walking away, and Triss was being dragged out into the hallway, before being forcefully pinned against the wall, with Yen's knee propped between her thighs, pressing so tightly against her core that it sent shivers down her spine.

"You're being an awfully naughty girl, my little flower." Yen breathed, her hand covering Triss' mouth as she leaned in against her ear, her warm breath tickling Triss' skin, making her flush a deeper shade of red as Yen pressed her knee harder against her aching core. "What have I told you about my relationship with Court politics?"

Triss mumbled a few words against Yen's gloved palm, feeling the warmth press back against her lips and cheeks, deepening the flush of her skin.

"Not quite, little rosebud. I believe my exact word was 'behave', now wasn't it?"

Triss felt her eyes rolling back into her head as Yen began to rock her knee hard against her core, sending flames licking up through Triss' abdomen, a coil of pleasure beginning to take form within her as Yen's other hand painfully gripped Triss' right breast, squeezing her pert nipple between thumb and forefinger, twisting it slightly before releasing it, along with the moan that Triss exhaled against Yen's glove.

Just as she was about to reach the peak of pleasure, Yen abruptly pulled away from her, her knee abandoning its position between her now aching thighs, leaving her hot and wanting more. Tears welled in her eyes, but Yen gently brushed them away, pressing a kiss to Triss' forehead before finally coming down to claim her lips with her own, gently nipping at swollen, flushed skin before pulling away once more.

"Behave, little rose, and I shall give you more than you could ever ask for later, in the privacy of our bedchamber... But fail to behave yourself, and I will simply have to leave you hot and in need of release, with no release intended." Yen spoke, her voice dripping with mischief as she spoke. "Have I made myself perfectly clear, my darling?"

Triss couldn't speak, her tongue was still stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her throat felt far too dry, as if she had walked across the sands of the Korath Desert for days without water. All she could do was nod her head in response, which brought a smile to Yen's perfectly plump lips.

"Good girl. Now, collect yourself before you return to the gathering. I shall see you soon." She offered, leaning in to press another soft kiss to Triss' lips before disappearing through the door to the great hall once more, leaving Triss alone.

Once she'd collected her breath, though still fighting with the coil of pleasure that refused to release itself, Triss sighed, her hands pressed against the heavy double doors.

"Damn that beautiful woman and all that she does to me." She sighed, taking another breath before making her way back inside, her eyes immediately searching for raven locks while her nose inhaled the faint scent of lilac and gooseberry.