#just so he can squeeze his little brother

[luvrrszn]

behind closed doors

BROTHER'S BSF!THEO NOTT x FEM READER (18+)

summary you're his best friend's little sister—off-limits, right?

warnings smut, theo's mean, fluff, angst i guess, idk

a/n guysssssssssss new week new obsession......soz send help

masterlist

being your older brother's best friend, theo was at your house all the time.

that meant he'd see you almost every day. the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen, floating around. so close yet so far, always out of reach.

he knew he'd never be able to have you, no, your brother would never allow that. so he did the only other thing he could think of—be mean to you.

so he tormented you every day. called you names, even waited on your bed for you to come home so he could insult you about something new. you suspected it was just his way of getting to see you every day.

he acts like you're the biggest pain in the ass, just his best friend's annoying little sister. but the second nobody's looking? his hands are on you.

—

sleeping with him is casual, no strings attached. theo sneaks out of your brother's room at night after he's fast asleep, making sure that he never ever finds out what's going on.

when your brother is finally out of town for the weekend, theo still comes over. the two of you are watching a movie on the tv in your room, lying on your bed. his arm is wrapped around your shoulder, your head leaning against his chest. his other hand traces up and down your inner thigh under the blanket.

it's one of those rare moments in the in-between.

in-between fucking and being at each others' throats.

theo's hand slips lower, toying with the waistband of your pink lace panties. he traces over your wet cunt, chuckling under his breath, "amore mio, you're dripping, just for me, huh?"

"shut u—" you're immediately silenced when theo plunges two long fingers into your pussy.

a smug smile spreads across his face, “you’re squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna break my fingers aren’t ya? if your brother knew how much you think about me, he’d probably hex you himself.”

“t-theo, stop talking about my brother and start moving your damn fingers.” you pants, writhing against the palm of his hand, aching for some friction against your clit.

“as you wish, amore mio.”

—

one night, you’re sneaking back in after a party. your hair is disheveled, makeup smudged, slightly tipsy and boots in your hand as you try to close the front door as quietly as possible.

theo is the last person you expect to see. you curse under your breath. why is he always in your damn house?

the open kitchen layout gives him the perfect view of you sneaking back in at 3am. he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, grey sweatpants hanging low, black tshirt hugging his biceps. he drinks from a glass of water, a dark look on his face.

you roll your eyes as you put your boots down on the floor, preparing yourself for what’s to come.

“a bit late, isn’t it, piccola?”

you roll your eyes and brush past him, opening the fridge to grab some orange juice. gulping down the juice, you reply, "it's really none of your business, nott."

wrong answer.

before you can react, he's in front of you, blocking your path. he's so much taller, broader than you. the amused glint in his eye is gone.

"see, that's where you're wrong," he murmurs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so you meet his gaze, "it is absolutely my business, because we wouldn't want you messing around with young, dumb, horny boys would we?"

his forearms rest on either side of your head, pinning you against the refrigerator.

"oh yeah? and what are you?" you scoff.

"oh, bella, you already know the answer to that."

and you do. he's stronger, older, perhaps even more mature (when it comes to anything other than you) than whatever company you're keeping.

"i swear, you'd better not tell my brother about this." you groan, ducking under his arms as you beeline for the sink.

"there's no such thing as a free lunch, piccola."

and that's how you end up on your knees in your bedroom, short skirt hiked up as you gag around his fucking massive cock. his hands are tangled in your hair, mercilessly forcing you to take in every inch of him. tears stream down your face, spit pooling at the corner of your mouth. you look like a mess, but at that moment as theo looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, he swears he's never seen a prettier girl than you.

you look up at theo and take in the sight before you. his head is thrown back, hair messy. his jaw is clenched, and he smirks at you. you run your hands over his chest and toned abs, clawing at his biceps.

he's perfect.

—

oh, and when he catches you at a party?

it's over.

he drags you out by your wrists, forcing you into his blacked-out mercedes. he's driving well over the speed limit, desperate to get off the road before he loses his shit.

he'd seen you dancing with some guy you knew from down the street, dress too short, too tight, too low-cut.

he has one hand on the steering wheel, another running through his hair as his jaw clenches.

"didn't take you for the easy type, but i guess i shouldn't be surprised. you're not special, you know. boys will say anything to get them what they want."

his words hit like a slap. your stomach twists, and for a second, all you can do is stare at him, lips parted and heart pounding.

you want to ask what the hell he's talking about, but you already know.

he saw you dancing with that guy. saw the way his hands slid down your waist, how he leaned in close and whispered things in your ear. how you let out that sweet laugh, one that always made theo want to say "fuck it" and just kiss you in front of everyone. he saw the way you let it happen.

and he hated it.

and now he's punishing you for it.

when you remain silent, he continues, "you looked fucking ridiculous in there, you know that?"

and you feel so silly. to think that that evening, you'd picked out your favourite dress, made sure your makeup looked good, just in hopes that theo would notice you at that party.

"you're being cruel, theo. stop it." you murmur, turning to stare out of the window. you don't even notice that you've started crying.

when you finally notice, you wipe it away quickly. you hope that theo didn't notice, but of course he did. at that moment, he pulls into the driveway of your house, turning off the engine.

theodore nott has seen a lot of things—but he has never seen you cry like this. and definitely not because of him.

and it makes something in his chest clench.

"oh, for fuck’s sake—" his voice drops, no longer sharp but still frustrated. he drags a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly, like he’s angry at himself now, too.

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. he just stares at you, at the way you’re biting your lip, blinking rapidly, trying so hard to hold it in.

then? he moves.

his hand reaches for your thigh, fingers curling around it, grounding. not forceful, but firm.

"hey." his voice is softer now, rough but not cruel.

"don't do that. don't fucking cry over me."

you try to shift away, but theo's grip tightens. not rough—just enough to make you stay.

"i didn't mean—fuck." he sighs again, shaking his head.

his thumb brushes against your knee, almost like a reflex, and for the first time ever, he looks uncertain.

"look at me."

you don't. you can't.

so he makes you.

his fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting your face towards him.

he isn't angry anymore. not at you. not really. his jaw is still clenched, his brows furrowed, but now? he looks almost desperate. like he wants to fix everything he's done, but he doesn't know how.

"i didn't mean it like that, bella."

you sniff, voice shaking slightly, "then how did you mean it?"

and that's when he just sighs. a weak, defeated sigh escapes the big bully of a man.

"i just—fuck, i don’t want to see you with other guys, alright?"

"why? we're not anything. you've made it clear, multiple times."

silence follows. his grip tightens.

then, he finally speaks. rough, low, honest.

"because i want you to be mine."

for a moment, you just stare at him.

his confession hangs in the air between the two of you. you're still hurt, still pissed. but something inside you shifts.

"say it again." your voice is quieter now, still laced with frustration but weaker.

theo's jaw clenches. he’s not used to being this vulnerable. but he doesn’t look away.

"I want you to be mine."

and then he moves. his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. he hesitates for just a second, like he’s giving you a chance to stop him.

but you don't.

so he kisses you.

it's not soft. not at first. it’s heated, desperate, full of all the tension that had been boiling between you. his grip is firm, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but you don’t—you kiss him back just as fiercely, hands tugging at his shirt, anchoring yourself to him.

it’s messy and overwhelming and everything you’ve both been pretending not to want.

when he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless.

"we’re so fucked," you whisper.

theo smirks, brushing his thumb across your swollen lips. “yeah. but you like it.”

and the worst part?

you do.

[narcjsistx]

little nsfw scenario, DNI if you're a minor <3 ; words: 0.6k

Imagine, you and RIN ITOSHI in the dark corridor of the cinema of your city, with Sae in the next room who has no idea what is happening between his brother and his best friend, who doesn't know that before he came home his best friend was on his brother's lap, and that Rin was going crazy with your cunt completely pressed against his thighs :(

And that now that the three of you are at the cinema, Rin couldn't help but follow you when you said you were going to the bathroom. if you think you can leave him in this uncomfortable situation for so many hours, you are wrong!

As you are about to reach the bathroom door, you feel a familiar hand blocking you; Rin stands before you, his hand gripping your wrist, a mixture of desire and hesitation in his eyes. His breathing is slightly ragged, his body moving on its own accord as he pushed you against the wall, his face now mere inches away from yours. Taken by surprise, you feel his hands take you from under your thighs, lifting you up and placing you at another height. In an instant, his lips crash against yours, kissing you fiercely, his body pressing you even harder against the wall: his hands grip your thighs tightly, bringing you closer to him as he devours your lips, the kiss filled with a mix of passion and desperation, as if he's finally giving into the desire that's been building up within him all this time. You are surprised by the passion with which he kisses you, and for a few seconds you don't move... but when you realize, you respond to his kiss, running your hands through his hair. Rin lets out a soft groan as you respond to his kiss, his body shivering. He kisses you even harder, his tongue slipping into your mouth, exploring and tasting you with an intensity that surprises even himself

He leans in, his lips hovering just above your neck, his breath hot against your skin "You're driving me crazy..." he whispers, his hand now sliding underneath your shirt, feeling your bare skin against his touch. Rin's hand moves to your breast, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. He feels the way you gasp in response to his touch, a small smirk forming on his lips "You like that, don't you...?" he whispers, his lips moving down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your skin. His teeth graze against your skin, biting

Rin takes your moans as a response as a cue to continue, his lips and teeth roaming across your neck, leaving love bites and soft kisses as he goes. He continues to kiss and bite, his hand still moving gently on your breast, his actions now becoming more urgent, more hungry "You taste so good..." he murmurs against your skin. You are left speechless, feeling how he can make you dumb with just his touch; Rin can feel the effect his touch has on you, the way you're left at his mercy. It only serves to fuel his desire even further, his touches now becoming even more intimate and possessive. He leans in, his lips now right next to your ear, his voice low and rough "I want you... I need you..." he whispers, his hand now squeezing your boob, as his fingers focus on your needy and red nipple

He holds you, his hands still under your thighs "Wrap your legs around me..." he commands, his voice rough and needy. Rin growls appreciatively as you obey his command, his hips pressing against yours tightly as your legs wrap around his waist. He can feel the way your bodies are connected now, the heat between you only growing more intense. He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb tracing your jawline as he looks at you with desire "You're mine... all mine..."

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

[dilfologies]

Hear me out...step bro gojo sneaking into your room at night just to "check on you" yet somehow you wake up with his cock in you as you beg him to stop

cw — noncon, somno.

satoru swore he was only venturing into your room in the late hours of the night to check on how you’re doing. no real reason to be doing this, except for the fact that he was just a concerned big brother!

your sleeping figure sprawled out on the bed, laying on your front, light breathing. you were out like a light. which gave satoru the opportunity to linger a while longer than he should’ve.

he simply couldn’t stop himself from trailing a light hand up the back of your thigh, stopping to squeeze your ass cheek in his large palm. he exhaled a shaky breath. he knew how this was gonna go, where it was gonna end up. but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought out it at least once.

and he was right in knowing where it would lead to, because it was like he blinked and somehow he was balls deep in your pussy, kneeling above your sleeping body. he was trying his hardest to be gentle with you. he didn’t wanna wake you. but it was only inevitable.

your eyes fluttered open at the odd feeling between your legs. and it didn’t take you long to realize what was happening.

“sa..satoru?” you whimpered, turning your head to see the familiar white strands of hair and gleaming blue eyes staring back at you in adoration. “what— stop! what are you doing?!”

satoru groaned deep, his cock head hitting the gummy spot inside you repeatedly. and though he felt his heart chip a little at the confusion etched on your face, he couldn’t bring himself to oblige.

“fuck— ‘m sorry, sis. you just feel so good. don’t think i can stop, don’t want to…”

[haikyu-mp4]

Everything will be fine – Akaashi x reader wc 629 – f!reader, brother!Bokuto

Your older brother Bokuto was not disappointed – nor particularly surprised – when you and Akaashi ended up dating in your last year at high school. He was away for university by then and missed the two of you terribly, but at least your togetherness meant he could meet you both at the same time whenever he visited home! That’s double the time spent with both of you!

And when you and Akaashi graduated, you both got into universities in Tokyo, meaning Bokuto’s happiness only increased. Nothing could ever separate you now-

“Me and Keiji both got job offers here in Tokyo!”

For a second, he grinned widely at the great news, his hair pointed sharply to the sky. Then, slowly, he realised he had just accepted an invitation to play for the Black Jackals, who were stationed in Osaka. His hair melted into sadness, along with his whole demeanour.

You felt Akaashi tense beside you, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter while you pursed your lips, having handled this for much longer than your boyfriend.

“But I’ll be working in Osaka,” Bokuto reminded you, his sadness dripping from every syllable.

“It’s not even three hours with the Shinkansen, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi informed him. Naturally, he had made some calculations before giving this news.

Bokuto nodded and gave you a sorrowful smile. The rest of his expression was hardly working with him to convince you that he was okay, but he tried his best. “I just thought you two would both be freelancers and go wherever I go.”

You couldn’t help the small snort of laughter that slipped past your nose, making you lift a hand to try and conceal it. Akaashi smiled and stepped forward when he saw that Bokuto was about to tell you off. “Bokuto-san. I promise to take care of your sister.”

“I know that, Akaashi. But who’s going to take care of me? Who’s going to hold up the posters with my name at every game?”

Akaashi hesitated, looking a bit like a question mark when he answered. “Your other fans?”

Bokuto huffed and pouted. “They don’t count.”

“If I filmed that and posted it, you’d get cancelled so fast,” you mumbled from the side, already fed up with your brother’s nonsense (affectionately).

“You’re not taking my emotions seriously!” Bokuto accused you, which sounded exactly like it did when you were kids.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Because everything will be fine!”

“It will?” Bokuto’s movements stuttered as he blinked at you owlishly, a nostalgic sense of positivity washing over him.

“Of course it will!” you repeated, voice a little lighter. A little more relaxed, like the words were filling the air and hugging all three of you. “We always work things out.”

Akaashi felt his shoulders lower as he admired you. You were everything he needed to fight his anxiety, and you proved time and time again that you were it for him.

It also seemed to have the same effect on Bokuto, who knew from all the years of sitting on the back of your bike while you gave your all trying to get him home after he scraped his knee, that you would do everything in your power to ensure it would, in fact, be okay.

“I already got us all rail passes for the whole year,” you said happily, shrugging. “Can you start being happy about our awesome jobs now?”

Bokuto used his strong arms to pull you and your boyfriend into a crushing hug, making you both groan despite the warmth in your hearts. “Oh my gosh, congratulations! What are your jobs?”

You nodded your head to gesture for Akaashi to start. “I’ll be an editor for Tenma Udai...”

“The mangaka?! Why didn’t you say that?!”

“…My bad, Bokuto-san.”

masterlist

requested by @nifflermini for my event, anything for you <3

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

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Silent Conversations

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — After living in Madrid for nearly a year, Jude's gotten the hang of spanish. So he never thought he’d have to learn a new language just to flirt with someone—until he meets you.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x Deaf!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 9.7k

Warnings! FLUFF!! Jude is kind of obsessed with you in the best way, lover boy, you're very adorable in this one, reader speaks but can't hear, reader can read lips,

Preview

********** Being deaf and a chatterbox is a contradiction that most people don’t know how to wrap their heads around.

But it’s who you are.

Since you can remember, you've always loved to talk—loved filling spaces with words, with thoughts, with laughter. Being deaf has never stopped you. If anything, it’s only made you more creative in how you communicate.

People underestimate how much talking you can do with your hands, how much personality you can pour into a single sign, a raised brow, a quick smirk. They think "talking" only means sound, that conversations without voices are somehow lesser, as if the absence of noise makes words any less real. You’ve spent your whole life proving them wrong.

And tonight is no different.

Your little brother practically vibrates with excitement next to you, hands flying as he signs about how insane the game was. He’s been a Real Madrid fan for as long as he’s been able to walk, and your parents had gone all out for his birthday—jerseys, meet&greet tickets, the whole experience.

So far, the night has been going well.

Your family has been cheering and chanting for Real Madrid alongside the thousands of other fans packed into the stadium, their voices blending into the electric hum of excitement that fills the air. The game has been nothing short of exhilarating, each pass, each near goal sending waves of emotion through the crowd.

Your hands ache from the number of times you’ve signed to your brother, asking for updates on what’s happening when the movements on the field become too chaotic to follow. He’s been patient, grinning as he translates key moments for you, his enthusiasm infectious.

When the final whistle blows, confirming Real Madrid’s victory, the stadium erupts into cheers. Your family is ecstatic, jumping to their feet and embracing one another in celebration. You smile, soaking in the energy, but exhaustion is already creeping in. The weight of tomorrow morning sits heavily on your shoulders.

You love nights like this—love the way your father’s face lights up after a good match, love the way your younger cousins beam with pride, shouting the players’ names like they know them personally—but you can’t afford to linger. Not when your boss expects you bright-eyed and fully alert at the crack of dawn.

You sigh, glancing at the time. If you leave now, you’ll get home at a decent hour, and maybe you'll get six hours in tonight. I should go, you sign to your brother.

He frowns. So soon?  

"I have work in the morning."  

He relays this to the rest of your family, and they groan in unison. Your mother reaches out, squeezing your arm in understanding. "Text us when you get home," you read on her lips.

You nod, exchanging quick hugs before making your way toward the exit.

The corridors are still crowded with lingering fans, some of them stopping to take pictures or rewatch highlights on their phones. You weave through them, emerging into the crisp night air just outside the stadium, and pull out your phone to call for an Uber.

Five minutes.

Not too bad.

You exhale, shoving your free hand into the pocket of your jacket as you make your way toward the designated pick-up area near the parking lot. Your feet ache slightly from standing for so long, and the cool breeze is a welcome relief after being surrounded by so much body heat. You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, debating whether to pass the time by answering a few messages or just watching the people around you.

That’s when you feel it.

A presence.

It’s subtle at first—a shift in the atmosphere, a slight prickling at the back of your neck. Then, footsteps. Slow. Unsteady.

You look up just in time to see him stumbling toward you.

The acrid scent of alcohol hits you first. It’s overpowering, the kind of stench that clings to a person’s skin and clothes, the kind that makes your stomach churn. He’s disheveled, his jacket slipping off one shoulder, his eyes unfocused. But there’s something sharp in the way he grins at you, something that immediately puts you on edge.

"Hey," he slurs.

Your grip tightens around your phone. You don't respond. Instead, you take a step back, angling your body away from him. But before you can put more distance between you, his hand shoots out, gripping your wrist with surprising strength.

"I'm talking to you, you little bitch!"

Panic spikes through you like ice water.

Your breath hitches, your heart hammering as you instinctively jerk back, trying to free yourself from his grasp. Your hands move on their own, the motions quick, desperate. Leave me alone.  

The man’s face scrunches in confusion. "What? What are you doin' with your hands?"

You swallow hard, pulse racing. You try again, this time forcing yourself to speak, hoping the sounds come out right. "I can't hear you. I'm deaf."

His expression twists into something cruel. "Deaf?" He laughs, loud and mean. "You serious?" His grip tightens. "C'mon, don’t be like that. Just talk to me.I can show you a good time."

Your throat constricts. You shake your head quickly, signing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, over and over, even though you know there’s nothing to apologize for. It’s just instinct. A plea for him to stop, to let go.

But he doesn’t. If anything, your silence only makes him angrier.

"Stop doin' that shit!" he snaps. "Just say something!"

Before you can react, before the panic fully settles into terror, a shadow moves behind him. Fast. Deliberate. A hand clamps down on his shoulder, yanking him backward with enough force that he nearly loses his balance.

"That’s enough, mate." The voice is low, firm. Unmistakably authoritative.

The drunk stumbles, blinking in confusion as he turns to face whoever pulled him away. And that’s when you see him.

Jude Bellingham.

He’s taller than you expected, broader too, his frame imposing even in casual clothes. His coils are damp, like he just stepped out of the showers, and there’s an undeniable exhaustion in his features—deep shadows under his eyes, a certain heaviness to the way he holds himself.

But none of that matters right now. Right now, his entire focus is on the man in front of him, his jaw tight with barely contained irritation.

The drunk sneers. "Who the fuck—"

"Walk away," Jude says flatly.

The man wobbles slightly, his mind struggling to catch up as he starts recognizes Jude. His eyes widen. "I was just—"

"I don’t care." Jude’s voice is sharper now, cutting through the drunken haze like a blade. "She’s not interested. Walk away."

There’s a moment of hesitation. A beat where the drunk seems to consider whether or not this is a fight worth picking. He glances between you and Jude, his lip curling in annoyance, before finally, begrudgingly, releasing a scoff.

"Whatever," he mutters, stumbling back. "Wasn’t even worth it."

You don’t breathe until he’s gone.

The moment he disappears into the crowd, your entire body sags, tension draining so quickly that your knees feel weak. You swallow, pressing a hand to your chest in an attempt to steady yourself.

Jude turns to you then, his brows knitting together in concern. "You alright?"

You nod automatically, even though you’re not entirely sure it’s true. Your hands tremble slightly as you sign, Thank you.

Jude watches your hands carefully, and your gaze shifts to his lips expecting him to say something next—to offer words you wouldn't be able to hear. Instead, he hesitates, then lifts his hands.

You… okay? The sign is clumsy, the movements stiff, but the effort makes your heart stop.

He had recognized what you were signing before. He had understood. you think.

You nodded, your throat tight with gratitude. He relaxed a little at your response, but still glanced around, protective. "You waiting on someone?" His lips move slower this time, giving you a chance to read them.

You nod again, holding up your phone. "Uber." The words come out in a bit of a slur but he understands them.

Jude frowns, looking at your screen. "Two minutes?"

He must have seen the time displayed on your phone because there’s no way he could’ve understood the tone of your nod. "Yeah."

The way he scowls in response makes you think that’s not an acceptable answer. His eyes shift, scanning the parking lot, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. "Look, you want to wait inside? The security team can keep an eye on you till your Uber arrives."

His concern is sweet, and you find yourself nodding before you can think. "Okay. Thank you."

You let him lead you back to the main building, where there’s a security team waiting by the entrance. He explains your situation, and they offer you a smile. They won't let you stay inside the stadium since the game has already ended, but they’re willing to stand outside with you until your car arrives.

You nod in gratitude and wave a goodbye as Jude makes to leave. You expect him to keep going, to be on his way, but instead, he hesitates. For a second, he just looks at you, as if deciding something, but he shakes his head, offering a quick smile as he slips away into the night.

The security team stays with you the whole time. They make sure you’re safe and wave down your Uber when it arrives. You thank them and climb into your car, making your way home.

That’s it, you think. That’s where the story ends.

But it’s only the beginning.

**********

-Bianca🌻

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Pls pls pls write more for ur mc!!! Those headcanons were js 😩🙏🙏

Of course of course 😁

My MC headcanons

She is a switch but has many insecurities about her body but once that boundary is broken she is definitely hypersexual. A big(not) problem for the entire characters.

Lucifer

With Lucifer she loves being dominated by him. She will feed into his sadistic tendencies and allow him to practically bully her into submission. But! She often breaks him. She feels a surge of power when making Lucifer beg and he looks oh so pretty when he does so she often makes him beg wether its to fuck her, eat her out or even touch her.

Mammon

With Mammon she love LOVES teasing him. Not in a bully way a 'god you're so cute I want to fuck you' type of way. She is more handsy with him since she feels the most comfortable with him. He practically worships the ground she walks on so she isn't too scared he will find her disgusting like she does. By handsy she is full on tracing his abs, arms, back, boxers. Literally whatever she feels like doing and she enjoys watching his skin get goosebumps and see his cock slowly spring to life and then just disappear.

Levi

With Levi she is mostly a dom. She loves how pathetic he looks when begging or stuttering. She also doesn't feel as insecure with him either since he is even more insecure than her so she mostly focuses on making him feel better. A good distraction! She loves making him flush red in front of people saying the most outlandish things randomly like 'he may not look it but he is big' and leave no context to it. She also is very handsy with him but in a more gentle way. She will make him bend down (since she is short) and cup his face and play with his hair that she finds severely pretty. She will also make use of his love for her thighs making him sit in her lap and if she is feeling especially spicy she will wrap her thighs around his head and squeeze them randomly just to listen to whines.

Satan

With Satan it seems as if they never fuck at all. They are always comfortably cuddling or discussing a nice book they both enjoyed. It's all a play to what they really do. She loves voyeurism a lot and Satan enjoys pissing Lucifer off so they often fuck in places where Lucifer is near or where he will be. They get very aggressive with each other with her scratching down every part of him she can reach loving the red on his skin and him leaving bruises behind on her body from holding her down or getting too lost into the moment. He is one of the first people to choke her and her be okay with it. They have their own little thing with skirts and thigh highs.

Asmos

With asmos she sees him more of a friend so nothing sexual happens between them. All wholesome and funny for them.

Beel

Oh boy. She has a HUGE thing for himbos. Once she met beel she could not get over him. She admired him everyday and it was severely wholesome. She has a deep love for his smile and even more for his laugh. His eyes are something she will paint/draw over and over again. But this isn't wholesome time here. She constantly craves him. So much so that even asmos says she reeks of his sin when around Beel. She is shameless in watching his muscles wether it be him coming out of the shower wiping his face of sweat after a game or even him just stretching and a little bit of skin peeks out she is BRICKED. Hell even his voice gets to her. Once she breaks it to him she is practically in love and obsessed with him he is on cloud nine. He loves how much she wants him makes him feel very special. Now she isn't the greatest at head but she does have a tongue piercing she puts to use. She will lick over other parts of his body while she jacks him off. She is the one who leaves bite marks and bruises on his body practically worshiping him. When he does really anything to her she is LOUD. She also cums the fastest with him because well she loves him. It's not uncommon for beel to be covered in her scent and marks the brothers are severely jealous of this.

Belphie

With belphie it's like fucking your guy friend. She and him bully each other playfully back and forth. Yet their eyes hold a deep lust for one another. She is actually quite into somnophilia and oh boy does belphie love this. Not many of the brothers even know they do fuck since it is when they are asleep together. They do the most risky things like her cockwarming him on the couch with the brothers around but it only seems like belphie is sleeping and resting his head on her shoulder. When in reality she is gripping his hair panting softly as he is as well. They are the ones that fool around the most at school. Janitors closets hate to see them coming. She also is into him choking her and well just his hands in general. She does have to let him know she isn't afraid of him y'know...from past uh...events.

I hope this is what you meant or enjoyed. We are freaky in this house. Should I do the side characters now?🤔

[miski86]

hi! idk if you’re still accepting jack thots but what do u think abt reader being spent and tapping out or like safe wording to jack? *squeals*

*squeals back* I'm accepting whatever I can get and I LOVE this 🤭💕🩷 thank you!!!!

+18 -> smut | play fighting, dom!jack, rough sex, choking, tap out/safeword

𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

"Jack, stop, please,” you whine, pushing him off as he smiles at you wickedly.

"What? Thought you liked when I played with your tits, baby," he asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing you tightly, only to let his hands creep higher, doing it again. You throw back your elbow, jabbing his abs, making your act of aggression laughable.

"I'm tryin’ to watch this, Jack. C'mon," you plead as he wraps you up a little tighter in his arms.

"On an off night?" He asks through a teasing laugh. "Lookin' this fine? You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?"

"Leave me alone, or I'm gonna kick your ass."

"Woah... Wait, baby. We scrappin'?" He chuckles through a raspy laugh. "You're gonna kick my ass?" He asks as he points to himself with a taunting smile.

"Mhmm…” You mutter as you sink into the couch, crossing your arms over your chest. “And I'd win, too.”

“Woahhh… Those are fightin’ words, princess,” he hums against your soft skin, kissing along the column of your neck. And, just when you think he’s about to let it all go, his teeth sink into your skin, making you squeal.

“Fuck, Jack!” You chide.

“That’s what I'm tryin’ to do,” he laughs. “Well, I'm not tryin’ to fuck me. You get it,” he mumbles as he grabs for you, pulling you onto his lap. “Tryin’ to fuck this pussy.” Smack. He slaps your clothed sex making you slug his chest back.

You roll your eyes, letting out a frustrated huff, turning over your shoulder to put your favorite show on pause.

“The attitude—” He scolds as he pinches you this time. You shove him, making him throw his head back dramatically. “Bully.”

“Enough—”

“You on your period or what—” He asks and ducks, covering his face, saying something stupid he knows will fire you up.

"So, are you gonna do anything, Hughes? Or, are you just gonna sit there like a bitch—" He cuts you off, lifting you off the couch and over his shoulder, walking with you to his room.

"What's up your ass today, princess?" He chuckles. "Not me. Not yet, at least.”

"I just wanted to watch my show and relax with you," you sigh.

"Mhmm… Yeah. Sure. Is that why you're wearin’ that set I bought you, pretty? Just wanted to sit around? It’s almost like you wanted this to happen,” he mumbles, calling you out completely as he kicks his bedroom door shut, slamming the lock with a smirk before flicking his backward cap to the side.

"Maybe," you whisper, fighting back a smile as Jack lies on the floor.

“What… What are you doing?” You giggle as you lower yourself, straddling his lap, resting your hands on the chest of his crisp white t-shirt.

"You’re kickin’ my ass, I guess? I'll even give you a leg up,” he smiles.

You circle your hips on his rock-hard bulge through his sweats. "How are you already hard?" You tease.

"I got hard when I saw you’re bra pokin’ out of your shirt," he answers with a boyish smile, making you roll your eyes as your cheeks heat up. "So, are you gonna do anything, princess, or are you just gonna sit there like a bitc—" You cut off his words with a decent slap to the cheek, making his mouth fall open in disgust.

"That hurt," Jack spits.

"No shit," you retort, delivering another slap, causing him to gasp playfully.

"Didn't think you had it in you, baby," he taunts. Reaching around, smacking your ass rougher than ever, making you scream. Your hands bind around his throat, squeezing tightly, making him return a crooked smile.

“Goddamn, you're lucky my brother’s not home… Hate for him to hear what a slut you are for me.” He quickly rolls you to your back, your hands still firmly wrapped. The veins in his neck protruded, that same smile still slicked on his lips. He grabs your wrists, pinning them against the carpet with a bruising grip.

Jack releases his hold, sitting on top of you, giving you his full weight as you wriggle and protest. "Damn, pretty. You're kind of a pussy," he rasps as he moves his hands up your body slowly, landing on your neck, taking his turn gagging you.

You release a choked moan as he starts to grind himself into you, nudging your clit with each roll of his hips. His hands trail back down your body, rising slightly on his knees as he plays with the band of your pajama shorts.

"Where are you goin', huh?" Jack grunts, giving you just enough room to flee. You crawl away, only for Jack to grab for you, pulling you back as well as your shorts off your body. He smacks your bare ass, holding you in place as he yanks his sweatpants down.

"Jack!" You squeal, fighting away from him with minimal effort this time, hoping for this outcome all along.

"What?" He snickers. "Think I won. Just claiming my prize." He groans as he clutches his hard cock in his fist, running the tip through your soaked folds.

You scream as he slams his long, thick dick deep. “Fuck!” You wail, mouth hanging open as he circles his hips nice and slow, forcing himself as deep as possible, making you exhale a deep breath.

He starts to pound into you, making you cry out in pleasure, feeling him deep in your guts. You take hold of his wrists, his hands steadying your hips, clawing into the fat of your ass. Jack spreads your cheeks, coaxing his cock in slower as he feels you tighten around him again.

"Bounce for me and I might show you mercy," he slurs, gripping and jiggling your ass before letting you take control. You throw yourself back on Jack’s thick length, skin clapping against skin.

Your legs tremble, causing him to chuckle darkly as he watches you go weak on his dick. "Please," you whimper, knowing he won't let you cum until he hears you beg.

"Tell me I won and that you wanna cum. C’mon, tough girl. Be a good girl and ask for permission.”

"Jack—" He winds up, slapping your thigh harshly, making you cry. "Please let me cum. Fuck. You win. You win." You sob Jack’s name as you gush around his cock, your entire body shaking as he keeps you standing through your climax.

"Oh, I won,” he laughs cruelly. “I know I fuckin’ won. I didn't say ‘you could cum’? What are you doin’, huh?” He huffs, tugging your hair, pulling you close, back pressed against his heaving chest, Jack not letting you come down from your orgasm before he starts working on your next. “We got new problems now.”

One arm wraps around your throat in a chokehold, squeezing tightly while the other arm binds around your waist. "I’m sorry."

"No. Not enough," he sneers, constricting your airway with his biceps. Jack starts rocking in and out. You can feel every ridge and curve of his cock as he gives it to you, slow and deep, making your eyes roll back. You feel yourself getting lightheaded at the lack of air, but Jack doesn't let up his hold. "Beg."

"Please, Jack. I fucking need it—" you pant wearily, your voice trailing off as you feel your orgasm building again, vision fuzzy, mind muddled.

"Baby? You got awfully quiet. You a'ight?" He asks smugly, his pretty face pressed against your cheek.

"Please, baby. I’m sorry I came. I—I should have listened. You won. Please. Fuck! I’ll do anything. Anything you want—”

"Mmm…” Jack chuckles. “You tappin' out, princess? We just got started. We gotta toughen you up a little bit."

“Penalty. Sh-Shit—”

“Our safeword?" He mocks against your ear, teeth scraping lobe as he draws out, slamming his cock back into your pussy as he loosens his hold on your neck. You let out a cry of pleasure, your cracked sob filling the room as he throws his hips into you rapidly. “You really want me to stop?”

“No,” you sniffle, answering quickly as fat tears tumble down your cheeks. "S’too much, Jack," you whimper. “I couldn't breathe.”

“But you want my dick?” He asks.

“Yes! Yes. Don't stop—” You babble.

Jack tosses you to your back, quickly tugging off his shirt. Your eyes follow the indentations of his abs to his deep v-lines, so distracted by his body that you gasp again when he ruts himself in again. "Fuck. You're so tight, baby," he moans lowly.

You can feel him stretching you out, a sharp pressure between your thighs. He continues pounding you into the floor, breasts bouncing with each thrust. He lifts your t-shirt, exposing your lace-clad tits, before slapping one.

"Stop, Jack!"

"Oh please…" He chuckles as he sees the want in your eyes. Jack moves his hands under your neck, propping your head up so you can see. "Bet my little slut wants to watch. Don't you?" He teases, but he's right.

You watch as your soaked pussy swallows up his dick, hitting the right spot each time. "Fuck, y/n. Look at you taking me so well," he burns, his slick bangs and forehead pressed against yours as he runs his tongue along his plump bottom lip.

A familiar heat builds inside you. You close your walls around him, gripping him harder. Jack's brows knit tight.

"Mmm... I love when you do that shit," he moans. His lips crash into yours, messy kisses as the two of you fight for air.

"If you cum before me, Jack, I win," you pant against his lips, feeling him smile along yours.

"You already fuckin’ lost. And, when has that ever happened, baby?" He breathes as his fingers meet your clit making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. “Oh shit… That’ll do it, huh? You're fuckin’ pathetic. You're gonna cum. Aren't you?" He groans. "I can tell."

"—M'not"

"You're not?" He pouts teasingly as he moves his fingers quickly, your orgasm within reach, completely cock-drunk. "Say. It."

"M'just… Fuck, daddy—"

"M'just what?" He mocks your fucked-out tone. “Tell me shit I wanna hear, and I’ll think about it...” You shake your head rapidly, trying your best to hold back your pleasure, tapping out against his bicep. "Ugh, fuck. That's my girl. Cum for me. Yeah? Cum on my cock."

Your walls flutter around his cock, waves of your finish crashing down on you again and again as you call out his name as he floods you with his seed.

You can feel his dick throb inside you, your body milking every last drop of him. His fingers dig into your hips, muscles clenching as he fucks out the last bit of his pleasure and yours.

"Mmm, baby," he groans. "I won."

[sturniololuvz]

Can u do a sturniolo little sister where 4 yr old y/n makes a mistake and one of her brothers get angry at her and they apologise after or something

okayyyyy

“A Little Mistake”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : crying

Four-year-old Y/N sat on the living room floor, happily coloring away in her notebook. She was determined to make the prettiest picture ever, using every color in her crayon box. The Sturniolo house was loud as usual—Matt, Nick, and Chris were arguing over something dumb, probably whose turn it was to do the dishes.

But Y/N wasn’t paying attention to that. She was too focused on making sure the big yellow sun in the corner of her page was perfect.

That was, until she had an idea.

Wouldn’t it be so much prettier if she made the walls colorful too?

Excited, she grabbed her red crayon and started drawing on the white wall beside her. She giggled as she made big swirls, little stars, and a lopsided heart. It was beautiful! The best masterpiece she had ever made!

That was, until she heard a sharp voice behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

She flinched and turned around, only to see Nick standing in the doorway, eyes wide with horror as he looked at the wall.

“Uh-oh,” she whispered.

Nick’s face turned red. “Y/N, you can’t draw on the walls! Mom and Dad are gonna kill us!”

Tears welled up in her big, round eyes. “B-but I made it pretty…”

Nick groaned, running a hand down his face. “It doesn’t matter, Y/N! We’re gonna get in so much trouble. Do you know how hard it is to get crayon off the wall?”

By now, her bottom lip was quivering. She hadn’t meant to do something bad. She just wanted to make everything colorful. But Nick’s raised voice made her heart squeeze, and before she knew it, big, fat tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“I-I’m s-sorry!” she hiccupped, rubbing her fists over her eyes.

Chris and Matt appeared in the doorway, immediately noticing their little sister crying.

“What happened?” Matt asked, stepping forward.

“She drew all over the wall!” Nick exclaimed, still frustrated. “We’re dead, dude.”

Chris glanced at the crayon marks and then back at Y/N, who was now sobbing into her tiny hands. He sighed and crouched down beside her. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry, bubs.”

“I-I didn’t mean to!” she sniffled, looking up at him with watery eyes. “I thought it was pretty.”

Matt shot a look at Nick, who still looked irritated but also… guilty.

Nick sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, kneeling down next to her. “I didn’t mean to yell, Y/N. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

She sniffled again, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. “You mad?”

Nick shook his head and ruffled her hair. “Nah, I’m not mad anymore. Just… next time, let’s keep the art on paper, okay?”

She nodded quickly, hugging him tightly. “Okay!”

Chris grinned. “Alright, now let’s clean this up before Mom sees.”

“Wait, we?” Nick raised an eyebrow.

“You made her cry. You clean it up,” Matt smirked, handing Nick a wet cloth.

Nick groaned but didn’t argue. Y/N giggled, wiping the last of her tears away as she watched her brothers scrub the wall.

She might’ve made a little mistake—but at least she knew her brothers would always forgive her.

[tsukii0002]

"Anything new?"

"Nothing new, Satan is a complicated person, you know?"

"Sure, I know better than you"

The human in front of him sighed, the way he treated them was stressful, the mere fact of relating with him was.

"Well that's it, I'll keep you informed"

"Okay"

The human stared at him, he snorted at the look.

"What?"

"Are you all right?"

"Eh?"

"You seem a little… Different than normal"

"It's nothing, now go before Lucifer notices you're gone"

Another sigh.

"Okay, okay, I'm going… Why do you have to be like that?"

“Because he likes you”

As the sound of the footsteps moving away grew fainter and fainter, the voice in his head grew louder. Belphegor squeezed the pillow between his arms.

"Aggg what the hell are you saying?"

“You're still denying it?

"The what????"

“That you like that human”

The demon slowly opened his eyes, however he immediately gritted his teeth and stood up and walked away from the door that held him captive.

"That's stupid, something like that will never happen"

“Are you sure? because I think they've started to notice it”

Belphegor stopped dead in his tracks, nothing could be heard, but he noticed stares from every corner of that empty room. He was starting to become paranoid.

"No, I'm just using them, when they gets me out of here…"

“What will happen then? Will you kill them?”

"Yes, I'll finish them off and this will never happen again"

“Oh you can try to fool yourself, but you can't hide how your pupils dilate at the sight of them”

He tenses at those words, his knuckles are white, he doesn't want to listen anymore.

“The way your pulse races, the little smile that tugs at your lips when you see them appear and the fact that they're the first thing you think of when you wake up and the last thing you think of when you go to bed”

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, they're nothing but a human, a miserable, ridiculous human… because of them Lilith…"

He brings his hands to his ears shaking his head with all the strength he has, falling to the floor, he doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to, but he can't stop it.

“Don't lie to yourself, they are a ray of light in your miserable life, they're the only thing that separates you from madness, the only person who cares about you… if it weren't for them-”

"Stop it!!! I would never fall in love with a human!!!"

Silence

"I would never… make that mistake"

“You wish you could tell her that the same thing happened to you, that you understand her now, you wish Lilith knew”

He bit down on his lip, blood had begun to well up, but it wasn't the only thing spilling onto the attic floor, his eyes were filled with tears. It wasn't true, it couldn't be, it was impossible, he, of all demons, would never love a human.

"You can't convince me, I… I…"

“I don't need to convince you Belphegor, you're the only one here.”

The demon looked around, he was alone. As he had been until that human answered his call. He got up and started looking for something he knew he wouldn't find, he looked in the mirror, he seemed on the verge of insanity. Maybe he was already crazy.

"Are you all right?"

From the tears that bathed his face, a smile gave way to a laugh, a broken laugh mixed with a desperate cry. He would get out of there, end that stupid exchange program and everything would go back to normal, he would never see their face again.

He stopped, silence, the attic seemed again as empty and cold as ever.

.

.

Well, this is an idea that reflects a situation in which Belphie fell in love with Mc before leaving the attic, and how this clashed with his convictions, his plan and the feelings he had had for centuries. Reflected in the loss of sanity that being locked in the attic by his own brother meant, and the clash of his desires, which would be the two voices speaking in his head.

How deep I've gotten so suddenly😂😂😂, if you've made it this far thank you for reading 🩷

.

.

[narcjsistx]

— 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ; words: 0.4k

"What do you mean you've never given a kiss?"

Sitting so close to him, you're surprised to see him so serious about such a topic. In your head you had often imagined who knows what things about RINDOU HAITANI, but in none of these you imagined him as someone who had yet to have his first kiss. He's a delinquent, who knows how many girls have fallen at his feet all these years... and he still has to kiss?

He looks down, a light pink blush coloring his pale skin "I'm not as desperate as my brother. I wanted to wait, that's all" he says taking your hands in his, squeezing them gently as he begins to massage your knuckles. You observe how your hands seem intended for his, how together they almost look like a painting, one of those you often saw in the art galleries you visited together. Maybe all the thoughts you've had about him so far are wrong, perhaps more than you care to admit

"But you told me you wanted to kiss me" you say unsure, still with the words from earlier echoing in your mind. Rindou looks up not letting go of your hands, but his sudden boldness is betrayed by his tense shoulders and the way he breathes, almost as if he's out of air "So what? I'm tired of waiting"

"It's strange, I thought..." you say stuttering, but he interrupts you "I know, the usual story of the delinquent with all the women at his feet, who kisses them and even spends the night together. No, I'm not exactly that kind of person... plus, I spent half my life in prison, let's say there weren't many women there" he says, and you can't help but chuckle a little at the last part of his sentence "Maybe I just thought wrong"

"I can prove the opposite to you, that there is a part of delinquents who if they love a girl, only her exists" he says, his hand leaving yours as he shyly cups your chin. Two purple amethysts study your soul, as you slowly relax under his touch, the distance between your lips slowly reducing to zero

You have always been used to toxic loves, decent guys who however had no intention of treating you as you deserved. Yet, since you met him, he who has always been the opposite of them at least in appearance, has given you everything you deserved even before actually being in a relationship. He, a delinquent, who would get the whole Roppongi beaten up if you asked him, just to see you smile for a few seconds

"Can I, then?" he asks softly, his breath beating against your cold lips, divided by only one millimetre "You can"

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 8 - Finance

Wolfstar, February 8, word count 576

Previous part First part

Remus sat and listened to Sirius and Barty’s story. Their entire plan relied upon the finance files they’d stolen a year previously. They were planning to take down the entire Black family empire. He swallowed. He’d need to find another job if they managed to do what they wanted to. The Black Star hotel chain would collapse, and he’d be out of a job. He couldn’t blame Sirius, though. After everything he’d revealed about his childhood and what his parents had forced him to adhere to after his brother's death, made him want to track them down himself and rip their throats out with his teeth. He ground his teeth and tried to pull himself back as Sirius began to talk about Regulus again.

“My mother found out about Regulus’s relationship with Barty,” Sirius gestured to Barty, who was still sitting on display opposite them. “Barty, for fucks sake, will you move your sheet!” Barty looked down at his crotch. 

“Oops,” He snickered, but rearranged his makeshift toga and let Sirius continue. Remus watched him for a moment longer. Barty’s face was pinched. He looked like he was trying to hold back tears. 

“As far as we can tell, Reggie never told anyone what she’d threatened, but when I was going through her things, I found… I found…” Sirius took a shuddering breath, and Barty took over. 

“She organised a hit on me or Regulus. Whichever the hitman could get to first. I happened to be at a meeting all day, and Regulus had an odd day off. We now think he was given it on purpose. I found him.” Barty couldn’t say any more. Sirius reached over and squeezed his knee, and Barty patted his hand fondly. 

“So he was murdered?” Remus asked. Sirius and Barty nodded simultaneously. 

“We think so,” Sirius told him. “Me and Reg, we weren’t as close as we had been by the end. I’d run away, and he’d stayed. But,” Sirius bit back a sob, but couldn’t contain the tears. “He’d never have kept something like that from me, never.” They sat in silence until it was loudly interrupted by The Final Countdown, blaring from Remus’s pocket. 

“Shit!” He jumped up from his seat and silenced his phone. “Sirius, I have to go back down and finish my shift.” He chewed his bottom lip as he looked Barty over again. “Go back to mine, and we can continue your story. He can go too if he wants. I’m sorry, I have to…” Sirius stood up and walked him to the door and out into the hallway. 

“I’ll take you back down,” Sirius said, taking his hand. Remus didn’t fight it. Sirius looked vulnerable and raw after all he’d revealed. Remus just nodded and followed Sirius into the secret staff passageway and back down to the basement, where his machines were beeping angrily, waiting for him to change the washing over. 

“I won’t be long,” He said, kissing Sirius quickly as he rushed over to get the dry tablecloths out of the dryers and move the wet towels into them and put the last loads of dirty bedding into the now empty washers. He pressed all the right buttons, and the sound of happily working machines filled the small space. He went and hid behind the wash bins on his little stool and got his phone out, bringing up everything he could find on the Black family and began to read.  

[thriller1ruler]

GIGGLY BUGS (pt3)

pt.1 / pt.2

switches! dae-ho, in-ho, jung-bae, gi-hun

(A/N): hii, sorry if i was absent for quite a long time. i would recommend yall to read pt.1 cuz it will kinda like make more sense then. uhm. anyway, i've bought a new book and that's kinda my new hyperfixation..(the name's crime and punishment ehe!! ><) yhh fuck me third fic i wrote, life is hard cant do this no more no joke sobbs. yaaa hope you enjoyyy!! i wish my wiriting was as good as how i decorate my posts..but im glad how this turned out!! ehe so happi :3

feedback helps/srs.

this was it.

number 388 was trapped.

...and revenge was in sight!!

In-ho chose to vent his embarrassment on Dae-ho, taking the teasing a bit too far, even though it was Jung-bae's plan. Poor guy was fully aware he was destined to be the next target.

"wait wait wait. why..why me??" Dae-Ho felt like a child who was unfairly punished for something absurd. he knew in the look of in-ho's eyes that this man will wreck him out any moment.

"wait, w-we can talk about this! right jung-bae? you're on my side right??"

jung-bae noticed dae-ho's hopeful eyes..ohh he will be in alot of trouble.

"dohon't plahay the innocent now.."

meanwhile in-ho, his plan was hit successfully again (yh no shit). he still could feel the touch in his neck thought, still a little giggling in his words and the blush on his cheeks still continued.

"there is no reason to be afraid..it's just a payback. that's all."

the frontman knew what kind of innocent guy dae-ho was. he was probably driving him all into the flashbacks of the tickle fights he had with his sisters.. being the only boy among siblings isn't excatly a good thing.

jung-bae was apologizing in his mind several times, feeling bad each second it takes. why aint invisibility a thing?? it would help him and the next victim alot right now..

"things are about to start giggly..you ready, hm?"....

suddenly, in-ho experienced a sense of deja-vu. He had indeed used these teases before, back when he and his younger brother jun-ho still lived together. They used to play these games frequently. Although deja-vu isn't typically a great feeling for him, this time he found a bit of comfort and warmth in this particular moment.

number 388 was clearly overwhelmed. he was sweating and panicking over seemingly childish matters..why did he react so dramatic?

"...no, wahHIHit..!" his voice cracked. thinking about tickling aint making anything better, just the opposite! the frontman found himself unable to suppress a slight laugh.

"wahat are you giggling for?? i haven't even touched you yet!"

dae-ho lost it.

"jung-bae you traitor. you could tell me this today and we could do it tomorrow!! now you are literally making me down infront of everyone else. im an adu-!"

He was interrupted in his thoughts as In-ho's hands came towards him slowly..wiggling his fingers?

"hehehell nahaha!!" dae-ho tried to close his sides with his hands, shaking his head multiple times.

"hey, jung-bae! dont just stay there. we made a decision!" a little silence contuined "i wish we could record this right now.."

"plehehease, lehehets just drohohop ihihit!!"

"you had your fun, now it's my turn."

in-ho's hands landed on dae-ho's sides, squeezing them and poking them from this side to side. number 388 tried to squirm away from the frontmans fingers but failed as it followed him. he let a giggle slip and after, a burst of his real laughter came out. it didnt sounded like his normal laughter, it was a little bit more lighter than usual. "eeeehehehe!! ohohokay wait wait WAHIHIHIT! ahahaha! nohohot you toohoho!" jung-bae joined in, just poking his dear friend slightly who was being tickled by 2 people now..oh the feeling of guilt pressed him down.

"im sorry.."

dae-ho tried to cover his face but poor guy forgot what his biggest secret was. he hiccups when hes getting tickled and one came out right away.

".....wow, did we just unlock a new method of laughter?."

dae-ho was as confused as him, squealing and kicking his legs as he made more and more inhuman sounds. his giggles became in a quite mess, he was too distracted by his ticklish sensation to realize how embarrassing his position was right now. a slight of a blush came out on his cheeks.

"want your taste of your own medicine now?"

jung-bae looked at in-ho with a little confusion.

"lehehets nohohoHOHOT!!"

"what if i..tickle you here?" he squeezed on dae-ho's hips. number 388 jolted. "and here?" another squeeze, another noise. "...and heree?~" in-ho founded this a little enjoyable.

"eep-! doHohont!! im sohohorry!! plEHEHASE *hic* hahave mercihihi!"

jung-bae stopped the poking now, leaving them both have their fun..or something.

this is going to take a while to resolve. dae-ho was getting tickled into pieces, jung-bae becoming an over-thinker and in-ho..? well as you can see, that man had his fun, thinking if he should make this "tickling" into one of his games.

but suddenly, dae-ho had an idea!

he tried to look out for gi-hun..where could he just be??

"don't you dare to call for number 456. i know exactly what you're thinking about."

"whaAhaha?! hohow *hic* dihihid yOuhHUHU??"

"be careful..or yknow where these hands will go."

in-ho looked directly at the spot of dae-ho's knees. in a moment of inspiration, he realized in what kind of guy he messed up with. although he belived he was skilled in these games, what's his current situation then?

..only and last hope was number 456 now.

as In-ho counted dae-ho's ribs, his mind somewhere else, he suddenly felt a cold run down his spine.

the frontman turned his head behind him slowly. it couldnt be him right?..

shit.

"oh, so you did want more huh?"

gi-hun was behind them, having a smile as if he just won the lottery.

as in-ho's eyes met his, the atmosphere of the feeling he had became right the opposite. 2 hands landed on his sides..again. man, he was a grown adult..how many times did he catch himself in this state now?..gi-hun would not take him serious ever again, he thought.

"a little troublemaker you are..this is getting a serios topic now dont you think so?"

there was no single noise coming out from in-ho, just really tiny squeals. seems like he was holding his laughter in.

"oh? holding in?. that aint cool young-il."

at the same time, dae-ho. this could be his only villian arc. he was still laying down on his back, smoke coming out from his ears from all that laughter and hiding his eyes with his arm. a few giggles slipped out of his mouth.

"juhung-bahehe."

jung-bae was sitting innocently, like a little puddle that just broke a vase.

"yes?.."

a little silence contuined.

"may youhu cohome here.?"

"sure.."

he came to him closer, looking at dae-hos face. the awkward silence between these both still contuined.

"look, im sorry.."

"say that again, but louder."

....

"im sorrEEK-!!"

"....how does it feel huh? i was backstabbed by you!!"

he said, dumping all the "pain" into him while he tickled his dear friend unexpectedly. seriosly, jung-bae thought that dae-ho is maybe an understanding person, so he would understand his situation too he had 2 minutes ago.

" thehehehe! waihihihit *wheeze* wahihit a secohohond!! lehehet mEHEHE *🫖* explAihihihin!! whahahaaaa!!"

"ay, you're even more ticklish than myself..this was unexpected sir." jung-bae even laughed more and a little shade of red appeared on his face. dae-ho looked down where he was tickling him curiously. "wait, your seriosly ticklish on this little spot?"

"aEAhahaha! enough!! enoHOhohoahaha!" he hided his face with his hands and number 388 giggled along with him.

"young-il, let it out!! come on, it aint embarrassing, trust me."

more muffled screaming came out from in-ho. why did he end always up as a lee? this was kinda getting him mad. meanwhile, gi-hun scribbled his ribs again, like the way he did on that night before. a little giggle slipped out from the frontman.

"oho~! seems like a tickly bug got you. don't worry! i'll save you." gi-hun threatened him like a child, chuckling a little now. his tone seemed too playfully, felt like in-ho was his stressreliver.

"enouhuhugh now."

"what? couldn't quite catch that, sorry." another chuckle.

"i sahihid enohough!"

with that attitude, in-ho jumped right infront of him, causing gi-hun to fall down on the floor.

"ow! that hurt.."

damn, gi-hun forgot what kind of strong guy in-ho was. he didnt fight back at all..no. he wanted to see in-ho's true side. plus he wanted to be fair. he exposed in-ho infront everyone else.. so now they both are quit. was he scared? of course. will he maybe get punched in the face?..unknown.

"..remember, violence is not a choice.."

"a guy like you cant tell me that." in-ho replied.

"seems like the tickle bug is affective, ain't it?" he told extra, scribbling his 10 fingers around gi-huns sides now.

gi-hun broke into soft giggles, trying not to squirm and accidentally hurt in-ho. more giggles coming out of him as the scribbling became faster. "plehease-"

"begging already..? it just started!!"

this will be a long morning.

"...how childish."

nam-gyu was looking at the 4 friends who were having a tickle fight against eachother for quite a long time. "it's morning, how the hell are they doing this right here infront of everyone..its even getting embarrassing just by looking at them."

thanos looked up again after a maintime. seems like he took the double of his..drugs. he directly throw his eyes into his friend.

"...what about you nam-su?"

"it's nam-gyu!"

the quitness between both of them hung on the air.

"and..what do you mean- what about me?"

he noticed that thanos was staring him into his soul.

"are you ticklish?.."

...

the tickly bug seriosly was affective.

thanks for reading!! •u•

[yatagarasuarchive]

I'm not crying... Something got in my eye...

Azusaaaaa!!! I love her so much! She's everything...

(I spent time doing this instead of slerping, but everything is worth it if it's for her.)

Fuyuki and Azusa's relationship is so beautiful. I love the deep level of understanding they shared. To the point where only Azusa truly understood Fuyuki's feelings.

“I already had a marriage proposal going before the Northern Lord approached me—with you. You were my desired wife from the very beginning,”

Bro, didn't you meet her when she was twelve? I know it's not really mentioned how old Yukimasa was at the time, but like... what is wrong with you? Anyway, ultracommon Yukimasa L (does anyone even like this guy?)

By the way, since Azusa was 17 when she became pregnant with Yukima and he is 14 in the main story, I guess we can conclude that in the second book she is 31-32. She's really young for being a mother of three.

“I hate idiots, you see,” Fuyuki proceeded to insult them all with no hesitation.

This part is quite ironic taking into account that she went on to fall in love with Yukimasa, but I guess love is blind (ok, I'll stop bullying him).

“I’m sorry!” As his little brother latched onto Azusa, Yukiya naturally moved back a little. “I tried to come back after a bit, but I couldn’t find the path I had used for the way out.”

“You must have snuck into Lord Yamagami’s garden. Still, you were a good older brother and took care of Yukichi, didn’t you?” Pointedly ignoring the fact that Yukiya had moved back in some form of restraint, Azusa squeezed the boy close. “Thank you.”

The way Yukiya stands back to leave space for his little brother...😭😭 Yukiya, Mother loves you just like your brothers. My poor baby with abandonment issues...

“I’m sorry, Yukiya. Let’s go back.” Yukiya had to endure so much over the years, Azusa realized. She felt so apologetic but, at least, if he was still capable of crying out like that, there was still something to be done about it.

I can't do this anymore... I feel like at this point I'm going to copy-paste the whole story again and read it a third time. And cry again.

Thank you so much for the translation and for allowing us to read this masterpiece. Now I'm going back to my corner to weep a little bit more.

Chapter of the Fireflies: Thoughts of the Barren Tree

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. This is a short story originally written for a japanese magazine and later compiled in one of the Ravens' Hundred Flowers books.

Blog version

For other translations, you can find them HERE

Timeline: Before the start of the series, during Yukiya's childhood

Characters (in order of relevance): Azusa, Fuyuki, Yukimasa, Yukiya, Yukichi, Yukima, Nazukihiko.

Synopsis: Yukiya and Yukichi go missing. As she waits for news on the children, Azusa reminisces about Yukiya's mother, Fuyuki, and the time they spent together.

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It's recommended to read before the excerpts of Golden Raven I just published here, going over some details about Yukiya's childhood, before reading this short story.

Thoughts of the Barren Tree(1)

Taruhi Township Lord's second and third sons had disappeared.

It happened during the early spring, and the crepuscular breeze was still cold. The custom at the Township Lord's Residence was for everyone, from family members to its working officials, to gather to eat together, and Azusa, as the Lord's wife, was in charge of the kitchen. At that moment, she had been in the process of turning a mountain of vegetables into a tofu and white miso salad for dinner.

That is, until her eldest dashed in. He had been out playing until a moment ago.

“Chii(2) and Yukiya are gone!”

Her eldest Yukima, soon to be eleven at the time, was six years older than his youngest brother Yukichi—affectionately nicknamed Chii. Yukichi had been growing more and more independent as of late, which had translated into common fights with his caring eldest brother. He would end up running out of the house and every time, and as if following a script, their reliable middle brother would dutifully go bring him back. 

Yukima, however, was desperate. He explained that, this time, they had actually left way before midday. “It's taking them way too long! They didn't even come back for lunch. I've been searching for them, but I can't find them and…… Mother, what should we do?”

A squashed sheath of bamboo peeked out from the edge of her panicking eldest’s kimono—most likely containing rice balls for his brothers.

“It'll be fine. Now, calm down.”

“But!”

“They probably took a nap somewhere and slept through lunch, that’s all. They’ll be hungry, so I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

“Your Ladyship,” a woman meekly called out from the back. She must have been listening in on the conversation.

Azusa nodded to her. “But, that said, it is taking them way too long. So, let's get a snack and, if they aren't back by the time we're done, let's all go and search together. Don’t forget to patch things up properly with your brother when he's back, got it?”

She looked her son in the eyes.

“Yes,” Yukima nodded, his uncertainty apparent for everyone to see.

——Yet no matter how long they waited, the two never returned.

“Chii, where are you?”

“Chii, respond if you hear us!”

Azusa and the other women left the Residence first for the search, followed right after by the Township's officials, who joined the efforts as soon as they finished their dinners. Yet no matter how many places they searched, nobody answered their calls.

The Township Lord's Residence was high up in the mountains. There was a village and farms at its base, inhabited by the Township residents, with inns speckled throughout for any travelers traversing the area. Yet, when asked, the residents, who had been working the fields throughout the entire day, all had the same thing to say—they hadn't seen the Lord's sons during the entire day.

Night fell. It was pitch dark.

While it was comfortably warm when the sun was still out, the wind was still as harsh as winter. The cold would sneak down their necks and up their ankles, and the boys had left lightly dressed. Concern for their safety fully settled on everyone’s hearts.

“You should go back home for a bit and eat something,” Azusa’s husband and the Township’s Lord, Yukimasa, called out to her. She had been running around, shouting herself hoarse.

“But, my dear—”

“You know we all ate, but you didn’t have anything at all before leaving, right?”

“I'm fine. In these circumstances? I can go without eating for a while with no problem.”

“You may be alright, sure, but Yukima? Look, he's at his limit.” Yukimasa glanced in Yukima's direction. The boy, too tired to even speak, was following some officials around on the verge of tears. “With how things are looking, it may take a long time to find them. I've sent the other women back already to prepare a midnight snack, so take Yukima and go.”

Once her husband mentioned it, Azusa finally noticed the absence of the household's women. They had been searching with them up until just a moment ago. “...... Fine, I'll take Yukima back. For now.”

She may have backed down, but Azusa was sure that food wouldn’t go past her throat even if she tried. Meanwhile, her eldest, who had insisted on helping until his brothers were found, was unsurprisingly exhausted after an entire day of running around. Using the short break as an excuse, Azusa brought him to the Residence with her. Once there, he curled up instantly, falling asleep right at the entrance.

Azusa left for the kitchen to get someone to watch over him, fully planning to head back out herself afterwards. The moment her hand touched the sliding door to open it, however, she was interrupted by someone's voice on the other side.

“Not Chii, but the middle kid? I'm not surprised he has gotten himself lost like that. What’s the point in searching for him so desperately, anyway? I bet that brat is intentionally hiding away.”

“What do you mean?”

“That he’s probably having the time of his life, watching us run ourselves ragged searching for them. He's one twisted brat, after all,” the voice said. Her distaste for Azusa's son, obvious for anyone who listened in.

“Oh, stop,” another voice reprimanded across the door. 

“But it's the truth! He may put on that good boy facade of his in front of His Lordship and the others, but you know what he did the other day? He punched my son.”

“And wasn't that because your son disrespected the Young Lord? He reaped what he sowed,” the other voice retorted back, clearly fed up.

Azusa's heartbeat, however, remained on the rise. She had no idea that her second son—not Yukima or Yukichi, but her second—had been getting into those kinds of fights. It was news to her. He, who was always so calm and gentle, ever mediating his brothers’ squabbles without fail.

The woman, however, had no way of knowing that Azusa was actually listening in on their conversation, and so she kept on babbling and airing out her grudges. “Still! Her Ladyship's children are both such sweet kids, yet that kid is twisted to the core. It must be his mother’s influence, after all. He never apologized after the fight.”

“Shouldn’t you stop already? I mean, let me guess—you talk just like that at home too. No wonder your son ends up getting in trouble with the Lord’s children if that’s what he hears from you.”

“Exactly! It’s just payback at that point. No helping with that.”

Despite the others’ following airy laugh, the irritated voice remained unrelenting. “Still, why are Her Ladyship and His Lordship even willing to raise that brat themselves? I truly can't understand them. They should just send him to the Center and be done with the whole thing, everyone would come out winning. Lady Fuyuki must resent this too, I’m sure.”

——Azusa couldn't take it any longer.

She used all her strength to suddenly open the door. The startled women, who indeed hadn't realized her presence until then, fell silent immediately. “Your Ladyship.”

Panic was written all over the face of the woman who had been badmouthing her son just a moment ago. She knew the gravity of her mistake, and while Azusa knew she had to say something—both for her and her children's sake—she couldn’t. This indescribable feeling, this mix of anger and sadness, filled her and, by the time she finally spoke, it was about a different matter altogether.

“...... Yukima is sleeping out there. I'll be going out, so keep an eye on him,” Azusa quickly ordered them. She turned on her heels.

“Lady Azusa,” she heard a flustered voice call her from behind, but she didn’t have it in her to answer. To give them her attention any longer.

The Lord's second son—Yukiya. Azusa had raised him fully intending to give him equal treatment to Yukima and Yukichi. His now-deceased mother had been a princess of the High Nobility. One Azusa had personally served once upon a time.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

They met about twenty years ago, back when Azusa was seven and Fuyuki thirteen. Fuyuki was the second princess of one of the Four Houses that formed the High Nobility, the one governing over the Northern territories. Her body had been weak from birth, however, and she was rumored to not have a long life to live.

Azusa’s father belonged to a family that had long served the Northern House. Her mother, on the other hand, came from a mid-ranking noble family affiliated not with the North, but the East. Azusa had grown up at her mother’s Residence in the Center, so she hadn’t had any chances to meet Fuyuki, who remained ever cloistered in the North’s Main Residence, face to face until then.

The chance to meet came during the New Year’s Greetings, as Azusa had been brought there by her family and Fuyuki had just so happened to be in good health that day.

“So, you're Azusa,” Fuyuki said as she sat on her bed and leaned on an armrest.

Her features themselves were unremarkable, hard to commit to memory. Her looks came from her father, but she lacked the confident aura granted by the man's strong body and magnanimity—her limbs and neck were abnormally thin, and her expression gloomy. The sound of labored, painful breaths came incessantly from her slightly opened lips and her soft-looking locks remained in a permanent bedhead, plastered to her pale cheeks.

Once the exchange of formalities was over, Fuyuki immediately took her chance to question Azusa. “Hey, tell me, do you think my elder sister will succeed in becoming His Highness Wakamiya’s wife?”

At the time, Mutsu no Hana, Fuyuki's older sister and the first princess of the North, was rumored as a candidate for the Crown Prince's legal wife. Apparently, it wasn't the first time Fuyuki had asked others this question, but everyone else had just answered with an ‘of course, your elder sister will undoubtedly be chosen’.

After some deep consideration, Azusa, on the other hand, said the following, “At my residence in the Center, everyone from the East is certain that the Eastern princess will be chosen. And I’m sure the Western people must think the same for their princess, that she'll be the one. So, to tell the truth, I can't tell how it’ll turn out.”

The second Fuyuki heard her words, she gave her a satisfied smile. One followed right after by an order. “I like you. Be my servant from now on.”

It completely came out of the blue for Azusa and her family, but the prestige of the offer was beyond question. The Northern Lord and Lady were keen on the idea as well, which led to the final decision to make Azusa Fuyuki's handmaiden surprisingly easy.

Still, Fuyuki's reputation, according to hearsay, wasn't what one would call good. The rumors talked about how inconsiderate and mean-spirited she was towards those under her. When people heard Azusa was going to become her handmaiden, they would tell her stories about ‘how she kicked out anyone the very second they offended her’. Half as a warning, half to scare her off. 

However, Fuyuki proved to be startlingly kind and friendly to Azusa once she got the chance to actually spend time with her. Still, even Azusa couldn't deny the fact that her reputation was, in part, well-deserved. Azusa once asked Fuyuki why she chose her of all people, when so many would love to serve a Northern princess like her.

“I hate idiots, you see,” Fuyuki proceeded to insult them all with no hesitation. The look in her eyes was unlike anything she usually showed to Azusa—cold, as if her eyes had frozen over, covered by winter’s ice. “The person those girls want to serve is the Main House's frail, pitiable little princess, not me. They won't ever act against my will, yes, but they won't ever sincerely speak their minds to me either. They’re all the kind of people that would gladly call a deer a horse(3) if you tell them so. There’s no worthwhile conversation to be had with them.”

Not even a hint of warmth could be felt in her voice. “I’m not going to live that long, so I'd rather spend my short time here with people I actually like and enjoy myself while it lasts. I flat out refuse to waste my precious life with a bunch of thoughtless idiots.”

——Azusa could feel the characteristic arrogance of the High Nobility dripping from every one of Fuyuki’s nonchalant words.

Fuyuki enjoyed reading to a degree that far surpassed what was expected of a princess of the nobility, and was particularly adept at board games. She would remember the contents of any book word for word after merely reading it once and stayed undefeated in all kinds of games—from Shogi, Go and dice games(4) to the Board Drills employed by warriors to learn war strategy. Azusa hadn't seen anyone beat Fuyuki even once in any of them.

Active military officials and Imperial Court officers would come over to visit from time to time and would challenge her while they were at it—they all came to share the same unanimous opinion about the princess’ strength.

While most believed that they intentionally lost against her in an attempt to curry favor with the Northern House without ever questioning that idea, Azusa had actually seen most of these men—who would go around bragging behind Fuyuki's back about how they ‘went easy on her’—drenched in cold sweat as they faced her on the board.

On the other hand, many other visitors would bring stories from the Center with them. Fuyuki was a woman of relatively few words but, thanks to that, they often carried a level of insight that completely escaped Azusa.

“The North is bad at politics, you know. They believe that getting a marriage with the Imperial Family will be enough by itself to bring the house prosperity—truly a hopeless bunch. The way our military excels, it would be easy for us to take over the Imperial Family’s position if we ever wanted to. But no, they would rather go and take a woman from the Red-Light District as the legal wife.”

The topic was her own parents, yet Fuyuki spoke as if it were somebody else's business altogether. “Did you know? Our accursed relatives wouldn't shut up, insisting that if we produced a princess beautiful enough, we could manage to marry her to the Imperial Family, so my father took my mother, the best prostitute at the Center's Red-Light District, as his legal wife. But it’s not like the ones in power out there are going to care about a princess’ face or personality…… Yet father, mother, my older brother and sister all pity me for being unable to join their silly games of playing house with our idiotic relatives. It's so stupid,” Fuyuki spat out.

It was true that Fuyuki's parents and siblings failed to genuinely understand her and her feelings. They would shower her in hina dolls and hairpins she wouldn't ever use, so it was obvious they didn't even have a basic grasp on her preferences and tastes. On the other hand, they would secretly call Azusa often, all to ask her just what kind of present Fuyuki would actually like.

Azusa didn't truly believe Fuyuki's parents were as indifferent to her as she herself thought, but Fuyuki had given up on all hope regarding her family.

“If only I had been a man—or at least had a body strong enough to give up my status as a woman, live as a man and become an official, I would have been capable of raising this Northern House to the very top of Yamauchi.”

By chance, some maidservants heard her lament and grimaced. Their thoughts—that she was dreaming about something beyond her—all over their faces. But Azusa believed that it wasn't necessarily some pipe dream. That, for Fuyuki, dominating the entire Imperial Court could have actually been possible in the right circumstances.

Fuyuki was a woman overflowing with talent, so having a body that wouldn't let her make use of it had to be vexing indeed. She was terribly intelligent, regardless of her environment's refusal to admit it, and, precisely because of that, also very lonely.

“...... It’s not like this body of mine can be expected to carry a child to term anyway. I’m sure I'll spend my entire life stuck here, achieving nothing, just to then die alone.” A whisper full of resignation. A few guests had left right before that—they had been gushing about how her older sister would surely marry into the Imperial Family.

How did the world look from that tiny window of hers? Surrounded by beautiful kimonos and rare souvenirs from the Center, with her mountains of books at odds with everything else in the room.

Azusa was one of the precious few who ever understood the gloomy Fuyuki and, over time, that gave her a sense of pride. To know this woman who was cold like ice even towards her own parents and siblings, yet proved to be incredibly thoughtful and caring for the innocent and those she came to trust even once.

She would laugh ever so quietly whenever a cat got lost inside or a baby was carried there for a visit. It reminded Azusa of the breeze in early spring, and she loved the gesture above anything else.

Fuyuki was, unquestionably, a twisted woman and hard to deal with—but there was more to her than that. At the time, Azusa had been desperate to be the first to break through the many barriers Fuyuki put around herself to keep everyone at bay. Her efforts didn’t go unnoticed by Fuyuki either, who would watch over her attempts as she would watch a kitten trying to climb up her lap, claws latching onto the train of her kimono.

Their days were always the same, yet warm and peaceful—or so Azusa thought.

——An opportunity for change arrived. Fuyuki was eighteen, and Azusa twelve.

Fuyuki's older brother, Genki, had gone on a visit to the Center and brought back some friends he had met there to the Northern Region. Soon, they proved to be a hopelessly irritating bunch. 

“Oh, poor princess! To only be capable of remaining cloistered here.”

“The Center is such a good place! We’ll tell you all about it.”

And so, these men forced them both to listen to their incessant rambles about how their families had made a fortune in the Center and how luxurious and glorious their life was. All while paying no mind to Fuyuki and Azusa's actual reactions in the slightest. 

While Fuyuki kept a sour silence, Azusa tried to, in a long-winded manner, redirect the conversation towards the Center's politics in Fuyuki’s place, but it was to no avail. One of them immediately redirected the conversation back to a summer design made by a clothes shop he patronized.

“...… What's the point of flashy clothes if the person wearing them is of no substance?” Fuyuki finally offered them a backhanded question from across the bamboo curtains, but it didn't stop them even for a second. It was admirable. In a way. 

“Truly so, truly so, it's just as you say! But appearances are very important in order to be recognized as a noble in the Center, you see.” They even further added, “The girls in the Center apply themselves to matters of fashion too and have quite the discerning eye for it. To be fashionable is a struggle. But, of course, these matters of mundane life have nothing to do with someone like you, Lady Fuyuki. I envy the purity of heart you possess.”

They somehow managed to put an end to the conversation afterwards and chase them away, but the mere thought of their stay at the Residence made Azusa miserable.

“Don't ever approach them again.”

“No worries, I don't want to deal with them either.”

Although they all had connections to the Northern House, their base of operations was in the Center. It was everyone’s first time coming to the North itself, so Azusa had thought that maybe they would go on a trip far away and, hopefully, they wouldn't come over again. Alas, she was too naive. 

From the following day onwards, instead of visiting the region and despite coming all the way to the countryside, they got a ball and chose to spend their time playing kemari(5), arguing it was a ‘popular pastime among Center Nobles’.

“They're truly stupid!”

“Very much so.”

Carefree, incessant laughter could be heard from the garden facing Fuyuki's room.

“They should just return home already if this is how they’re going to spend their time,” Azusa argued but, just as she did so, someone's alarmed voice interrupted them.

“Careful!” 

Wondering what was going on, they turned to its direction. That very second, something big flew through the bamboo curtains, ripping them off, and into the room. They both screamed as it bounced off the wall, knocked a mirror sitting on the nearby cupboard to the floor and bounced away. Not knowing what had happened just yet, Azusa stood there, frozen. Before even realizing it, she and Fuyuki had come to cling to each other.

——A white kemari ball noisily rolled on the floor, still covered in traces of being kicked around. 

Still stunned, they saw a panicking face peek through the now curtainless handrails. “Are you alright!?”

A young, tanned man with sharp features appeared among the light. He wasn’t wearing any makeup, yet his eyebrows were so well-shaped they looked as if drawn on along with a bright gaze that denoted honesty. He was strongly built, the well-defined muscles of his upper arms visible thanks to the rolled up sleeves.

The moment Azusa came back to herself, she stood in front of Fuyuki to protect her. That done, she yelled, “Who do you think you are in front of!? Stand back!”

The young man's eyes widened for a second and, having perhaps realized who he was in front of, his face lost all color and he prostrated right in place. “Forgive the discourtesy, my lady.”

That matter solved, Azusa, worried about Fuyuki, turned around in a fluster to check on her.

“Lady Fuyuki, Lady Fuyuki! Are you alright?” Azusa's master was stuck in place, looking as if her soul had left its mortal coil. She watched the young man kneeling on the ground intently. “Lady Fuyuki?”

Azusa, concerned, called out her name, and Fuyuki seemed to return to her senses. “Ah, yes, I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine.”

“That's a relief,” Azusa let out a sigh and only then faced the young man with a fierce look in her eyes. “May I know what happened there?”

“I have no excuse to give, my most sincere apologies. I, well, kicked the ball and then…”

Azusa took a better look behind him. The Center noblemen were there, cowering further away in the garden as they watched. With the matter of the previous day's discourtesy added to it, Azusa couldn't take it any longer. “I'll be informing His Lordship of this. You'll get—”

“Wait, Azusa,” Fuyuki intervened before Azusa could finish speaking. “It's true that they made a mess of the curtains, but nobody got hurt and the mirror didn't break. Let's end this amicably.” Her voice was feeble, completely unlike her usual self. Still disconcerted by Fuyuki's behavior, who was completely shrunken in on herself, Azusa begrudgingly backed off.

“If you say so, Lady Fuyuki……” She could hear the young man breathe a sigh of relief. “Lady Fuyuki may have forgiven you, but that doesn't change the fact that you committed a terrible discourtesy. We'll consider the matter settled, but better make sure that there won’t be a second time.”

“Yes, of course,” the young man nodded earnestly.

Then, Azusa suddenly noticed something. Now that she was looking at his face, there was something different about him compared to the pale-faced bunch she had met just the other day. “You aren't from the Center, right? Who are you and from where?”

“Sorry for the late introduction. I'm Yukimasa of Taruhi, the eldest son of the Taruhi Township Lord. I came here today accompanying my father. I then received an invitation to play with them and—”

“Lord Yukimasa……” An absentminded voice muttered, much to Azusa's astonishment once she ascertained the source. It was Fuyuki, her cheeks flushed red as she wore an expression Azusa hadn't seen on her ever before.

That very evening, when the sun had set and it was already dark outside:

“Lady Azusa.”

She had been taking away Fuyuki’s tea set, walking through the hallway, when, much to her surprise, someone called her from the garden. “You're the one from today.”

“Yes, I'm sorry for what happened. I'm Yukimasa of Taruhi.”

“So, what brings you here this time?”

“I came to apologize all over again. Uhm, I'm not sure if this would qualify as a fitting gift, but here.” He bashfully offered her the present in question, which troubled Azusa as she tried to figure out how to respond.

——What should she say in this situation?

While Azusa was tempted to lean into her own irritation and tell him she never wanted to see him again, she ultimately restrained herself out of consideration for Fuyuki. “...... Aren't you the eldest son of Taruhi Township? What are you doing, coming here secretly from the garden?”

“Oh, true! My apologies. What a blunder.”

“Come over again, properly this time. I'll let you pass to meet Lady Fuyuki.”

Fuyuki hadn't spoken a word since the day's events, but once Azusa told her Yukimasa was going to come over, she let out a tiny gasp. She looked like a young girl all over again as she clung to Azusa. “What shall I do, Azusa? There’s nothing weird with what I’m wearing, right?”

Fuyuki’s hair was soft-looking, but prone to frizzing and curling. Azusa smiled wryly as she saw Fuyuki smoothing her hair down in a panic, and took a comb to slightly fix it.

“It'll be fine. Besides, he's coming over to apologize, just act with confidence and it'll all work out, Lady Fuyuki.” Azusa had thought the news would make Fuyuki happy, but she never expected her to get so flustered.

A while later, Yukimasa came for a visit. He knelt at the other side of the bamboo curtains, bowing his head. “Allow me to apologize again for what happened today. It was my mistake and I’m terribly sorry for it.”

“That’s enough,” Fuyuki replied with a voice so soft it was barely audible.

It looked like her lady would be incapable of speaking any further herself, so Azusa casually intervened to help. “Still, why was there a need to hit the ball with such strength? Was that your first time playing kemari, Lord Yukimasa?”

“No, that's not what happened. They were treating me like some ignorant country bumpkin, saying they would teach me some techniques from the Center and it really annoyed me, so…….”

He seemed too deeply ashamed of himself to go on, but it was still enough to get the gist of what had happened between them. Azusa could understand well how he had felt, so her attitude softened a little. “You have my condolences for that.”

“I'm deeply sorry for causing you princesses such inconvenience. It may not be enough of an apology, but please take this offering.” As he finished speaking, Yukimasa retrieved something from behind him. Fuyuki gasped at the sight.

A light flickered within the soft darkness of the room, as if it was slowly breathing. It was fainter than your usual fatuous fire lamp(6), and its color was more vivid. Yukimasa’s apology gift took the form of a stick-shaped something, shining with a beautiful green light.

“What's that?”

“A firefly.”

“I'm aware there's a firefly inside, but…… what's it trapped inside of? A plant?”

“You may not be familiar with it, princess, but it's a green onion head.”

“A green onion head!” Fuyuki opened her eyes in surprise. Such a silly, inappropriate name for something so beautiful. “I have seen people use bellflowers(7) before, but to use green onions……” Incapable of restraining herself any longer, Fuyuki started to laugh. “I've seen something good today. It's truly charming and wonderful, but I've already enjoyed myself enough. Please, let the firefly go.”

“As you wish.” Yukimasa took off the plug that kept the firefly from escaping. It wriggled for a moment before taking off, fluttering out of the room as if swept up by a breeze.

Fuyuki's expression as she watched Yukimasa depart left an impression on Azusa. She had never seen that on her before. To think she could make a face like that—It was refreshing. Azusa may have felt slightly left behind and lonely, but that didn’t worry her in the slightest. Not when her chest felt so unbearably tight.

——What a lovely person Fuyuki actually was.

Taken by a genuine desire to do something to help, Azusa went to visit the Northern Lord and his wife to inform them herself: ‘Lady Fuyuki has someone she likes’.

The marriage arrangement itself proceeded very smoothly.

The Northern Lord had been quite enthusiastic about the idea once he learned his daughter had fallen in love with the man at first sight, and Taruhi's Township Lord, who had been wanting to retire, was quite enthused too with the support they could gain from the Northern House if his son married Fuyuki.

“Thank you, Azusa. I got this because of you.”

Fuyuki had been the very picture of happiness and beauty before departing for Taruhi, and Azusa's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. “Please, be happy, Lady Fuyuki.”

Azusa couldn’t follow Fuyuki to Taruhi as one of her maids due to the terms set for the marriage. As a result, while Fuyuki became Yukimasa's legal wife and moved to Taruhi, Azusa went on to work in the Center.

‘It’s you, I’m sure you’ll find a marriage partner soon enough.’ Those had been Fuyuki’s words before departing, but reality proved to be the opposite—Azusa wasn't blessed with many proposals, if any at all. 

Time passed. Much like Fuyuki once predicted, in the end, her older sister didn't get to marry into the Imperial Family and instead joined a noble family affiliated with the North. Genki’s son was born as well, and so it became Azusa’s job to take care of the children at the North's Center Residence.

Then, all of a sudden, the Northern Lady came to her with an unbelievable proposal.

“——You want me to become a concubine for Taruhi's Lord?”

Five long years had passed since Fuyuki married and left for Taruhi. Fuyuki and she had stayed in contact, sending letters back and forth from time to time ever since, but she had stopped answering a short while ago. At the time, Azusa had been fearing that Fuyuki's condition had worsened significantly.

Oryou no Kata, Fuyuki’s birth mother and the Northern Lord's legal wife, pressed Azusa with a solemn look in her eyes. “Fuyuki is faced with a great dilemma back in Taruhi. Taruhi's Township Lord remains childless even now and it fills her with shame to know it is her fault.”

The Northern Lord himself spoke right after, “Please, can't you consider accepting? As those who made the arrangement in the first place, we feel just as responsible for the situation as her. Besides, Fuyuki herself has said that if a concubine is necessary, she would at least want her to be you.”

“Has Lady Fuyuki truly said that?”

“Yes, that she did.”

To tell the truth, it was a request from the Northern Lord. It wasn't like Azusa had a choice to begin with.

——However, something felt off about it.

Fuyuki had been deeply, wholeheartedly in love with Yukimasa. Would she ever truly suggest her husband take a concubine? And yet, Fuyuki was also a terribly intelligent woman. For her to worry about Taruhi Township and consider the problems a lack of heirs could bring—no matter how painful it could be to do so—and choose Azusa as the concubine wasn't an absurd idea either.

Azusa sent her yet another letter, but no reply ever came back.

She was then summoned to the Northern House’s Main Residence, and so left the Center. There, Yukimasa finally came to visit her personally. The young Lord of Taruhi was completely earnest with her.

“Fuyuki's position in Taruhi is a difficult one because of the lack of heirs. I've been somehow protecting her up to now, but the anxiety of it all seems to be affecting her health as of late. To be honest, Fuyuki isn't even in a condition to take care of the house's affairs. Couldn't you become my concubine just to help her? Even if you’re to be a mere concubine, I'll treasure you as much as Fuyuki.”

“Could I first meet Fuyuki at least?”

“That may be difficult, sadly her condition is bad right now. But I'm sure that, if you were to agree, her depression will soon fade away and you'll be able to meet in the near future.”

And so, partly moved by Yukimasa's plea, Azusa became his wife. They had to build new chambers for her in Taruhi Township, so Azusa was told to stay at the Northern House's Main Residence but, just as he had first promised, Yukimasa visited her with fervor. Soon after, Azusa became pregnant with astonishing ease.

The Northern Lord and his wife were as overjoyed as if she were their own daughter.

“Fuyuki is overjoyed with the news too!” Oryou no Kata said to her.

“Is that truly so……?” Azusa was worried. She hadn't gotten even one single chance to talk with Fuyuki since she had arrived back in the North. She patted her own belly, the swelling still imperceptible.

Oryou no Kata, however, dismissed her concerns with a merry laugh. “Of course she's happy! Her health may not be good at the moment, but how about visiting her after the child's birth?”

To give a boy a name that included an animal’s kanji was said to help them grow up healthy, so once her son was born several months later, they named him after the temples’ sacred horses—Yukima(8). Azusa still remained at the Northern House's Main Residence at that point and that’s where she began to raise her first child. Yukimasa would fervently visit them both and the Northern House had even prepared broodmaids(9) for her, so it was very much a manageable effort.

The biggest source of trouble came after Yukima finally first took human form—he would cry constantly during the night. Azusa was left seeking whatever rest she could get whenever he stopped. She had been napping one day, lying down by Yukima's side, when a noise woke her up. It wasn’t the usual bawling—there was quite a ruckus outside. “What’s going on?”

“Lady Azusa, you must stay here!” A maid with a stern look stopped her, but Azusa could still hear a woman's high-pitched voice and the sounds intertwined with it—painful-sounding coughs.

“It can't be! Is Lady Fuyuki here?”

Just as Azusa took to the hallway with her son in her arms, however, Oryou no Kata appeared on her way to Azusa's room. Once again, she was stopped from going any further. “Azusa, please, leave this to us.”

“But!”

“It's fine. This is an order, go back to your room,” Oryou no Kata declared with the same resolute attitude. The woman left her behind and went outside as the maids pressed Azusa to return, but Azusa remained stuck in place.

“You traitor! I won't ever, ever forgive you!”

——Her legs wouldn't move. She was shaken by the other's incredible anger.

There was no doubt about it. That was Fuyuki's voice.

“What's the problem? Why the ruckus?” Oryou no Kata said all fed up, as if she were persevering through a chat with an unreasonable, irrational child. “Calm down and listen to me well. Don't you see, Fuyuki? This all happened because of your negligence. It should have been you who suggested your husband get a concubine in the first place. If you can't fulfill the bare minimum of your job as a Township Lord's wife, what option do you have left but to make someone else do it in your place?”

Faced by her apparently troubled mother, Fuyuki let out a cry so pained she may as well have puked blood, “Don't you screw with me! Then you shouldn't have given me away in freaking marriage to begin with!”

“That and this are different matters altogether. We did it because we care about you. We wanted you to get the chance to become a good wife in Taruhi, and you wasted our well intentioned efforts. On top of that, doing something as irrational as not accepting any concubines is absolutely inadmissible.”

“What do you mean by irrational? What do you mean you did it because you cared about me? It’s because of my reputation, isn’t it? Everyone, everyone just treats me like an idiot…… I'm not your freaking doll!”

Azusa's arms trembled, Yukima still cradled within them. She wanted to explain herself, to talk with her; but Fuyuki's thus far unheard screams of anger terrified her. She was incapable of moving, no matter how much she tried.

“I won't forgive you. I won't, not even after my death. No matter what!” Fuyuki yelled again. Then, Azusa heard as her coughing fits got significantly worse and the sound of her voice was unwillingly cut short. Her anger had been so great that, from the sound of it, the blood had rushed to her head and made her lose consciousness. 

Oryou no Kata ordered the maidservants to carry Fuyuki to a separate building. Only then, she noticed the paralyzed Azusa. A wry smile appeared on her lips. “She's such a troubled woman. To be so selfish, only thinking about herself after all this time…… though I guess it's also my fault for indulging and coddling her…… That's why I, as her mother, said what was her duty to say in her place.”

Oryou no Kata sighed to herself.

“—It was all a lie, wasn't it? That Lady Fuyuki wanted me to become a concubine.”

Oryou no Kata didn't answer that. “You may think me cruel, but there was no alternative. Not considering her position.”

Azusa had once heard that Oryou no Kata, being an ex-prostitute, had struggled immensely back when she first came to the North. People had recognized her as part of the nobility—as a person—only after she finally gave birth to two daughters and a male heir.

Fuyuki already had a bad reputation among the maids as things stood. In order to be recognized as a nobleman's wife, there were two requisites—to act as the leader and head of the women under her service and in doing so manage the household, and to give birth to an heir. It wasn't odd for Oryou no Kata to believe that her daughter couldn’t afford to be selfish when she was failing at both.

But—was it truly parental love? Was it sympathy born of the similarity of her daughter's circumstances with her own struggles during the early days of her marriage? 

No, it couldn't be either of those. Azusa was sure of that much.

“She already got the biggest fortune of them all—to share a life with the man she loves. What else could she possibly even want?” Oryou no Kata quietly wondered. Perhaps that’s it, Azusa, her mind still numb, thought to herself. Perhaps she had deeply loved once, the target someone different from the Northern Lord. “Azusa, you don't have to worry about any of this. Just focus on raising Yukima into a good man. Understood?”

Oryou no Kata’s words were full of fondness, yet Azusa couldn't bring herself to answer. Her arms just tightened around the now crying Yukima.

“Why did you lie to me?” Azusa pressed Yukimasa for answers, finally pushing him to the point where he blurted out his true feelings.

“I haven’t ever once wished to have that as my wife.”

“What……?”

“I already had a marriage proposal going before the Northern Lord approached me—with you. You were my desired wife from the very beginning,” Yukimasa explained with a strained voice. “But then Fuyuki interfered. I rejected her at first, told them I wanted you again and again. Did you think I found it all a timely offer because I was in the middle of the Township inheritance problems? I wanted to be recognized out of my own effort. I had no interest in using my wife's status to do so. I refused, but how could I stick with that when the Northern Lord himself went as far as to bow his head to me?”

‘My daughter doesn't have long to live, so please, at least give her this’. Those were, apparently, the Northern Lord's words back then. “In exchange, he promised that, when the time came, he would recommend you as my wife without fail.”

Azusa trembled. She remembered how her marriage proposals had abruptly died down. “You——Did you truly, genuinely think I would be glad to hear that?”

Yukimasa recoiled for a second, but it wasn't enough for him to take back his words. “...... You should have been my wife from the start. Besides, deep in her heart, Fuyuki looks down on me as well. She went as far as to berate me, saying I used her to prosper in life. Just how much does that princess have to ridicule me before it's enough!?”

“That's wrong, that's not what's happening!” Awkward and tactless as it may be, Azusa had no doubt Fuyuki had acted out in devotion.

“Whatever. The one I loved from the very beginning was you, not Fuyuki.”

——Fuyuki was an intelligent woman.

She must have noticed Yukimasa's actual feelings, Azusa was sure. Just how vexing it must have been for her, how much she must have resented everything. Everyone, every single one of them, talked on and on, insisting they acted for Fuyuki's sake, yet, in the end, none of them ever understood how Fuyuki felt, not even once—less so felt any shame for that.

Azusa almost asked, ‘then what about Fuyuki's feelings?’, but she couldn't do it. Aghast, she was faced with the fact that the main culprit of it all—the one who stomped all over Fuyuki’s heart—was none other than herself.

Afterwards, Azusa heard that Fuyuki flew into a rage once she was brought back to Taruhi. ‘I don't mind if I die, I want a son of my own even if that takes my life.’

Nobody could stop her.

Even her parents’ attempts to restrain her and Yukimasa persuading her proved completely meaningless. The rumors went as far as to say that, in the end, she had put a knife to her own neck and virtually threatened Yukimasa into sharing a bed with her. The only one to know the truth of the matter, however, was Yukimasa, who would only grimace whenever her name came up.

Time passed and, with one single egg, Fuyuki’s body reached its limit. Nobody blamed Yukimasa for it, not even the Northern Lord. A broodmaid incubated the egg, from which a boy hatched out—and so the second son of Taruhi’s Township Lord, Yukiya, was born.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

“Don't worry so much, Azusa. Everyone is searching for them. We'll find both Yukichi and Yukiya soon enough.” Yukimasa said in a light tone. He must have decided to attempt to calm down his wife, who had just returned to their Residence with tottering steps. “Still, given the situation, it may well truly be Yukiya running away from home. It does sound like something he would do, doesn’t it?”

It was said in jest but, given the circumstances, it proved to have the polar opposite effect.

“Why are you so cold to Yukiya!? Don't you care about him?” Azusa asked as she was about to cry. Yukimasa opened his eyes wide in surprise.

“Don't say that! Yukiya is my son too, of course, isn't it a given that I care about him? But, well, from time to time, he has this look in his eyes—he may be my own son, but I can't figure out what he's thinking……” As her husband stuttered, Azusa was struck by a realization.

——What had Yukimasa so scared was Fuyuki.

Yukiya greatly resembled her, both in appearance and intelligence. He could surely feel how his father and the women thought about him. After all, Yukima and Yukichi didn't ever have that look Yukiya sometimes had in his eyes—as if he was testing people out.

Back when Yukiya was still barely two years old, they had been faced with a choice—whether they should adopt him out to the Northern House, or raise him themselves. Everyone loudly insisted to them—’don’t you feel sorry about Fuyuki's death? He’ll be left in such an awkward position if he stays with his stepmother. Wouldn't it be better for everyone involved to give him up as soon as possible?’ Sweet, sweet temptation.

Yet, in the end, Azusa rejected the offer accompanying their honeyed words. Those who wished to adopt Yukiya were, ultimately, all just interested in his status and his status alone. Azusa couldn't let Yukiya go, not once she heard Yukiya call her ‘mother’ and less so once she remembered those people's past behavior, which she witnessed when she was still serving Fuyuki.

Back then, she chose to raise Yukiya as her own son. She believed she had so far kept to that resolution, and didn't ever regret her choice. 

But, had that truly been the best for Yukiya?

——Was she actually fit for the role of his mother?

“Lady Azusa.”

Azusa had walked away from Yukimasa, incapable of handling it anymore, when one of the women from before called out to her. She was the wife of one of the Township officials and had once been one of Fuyuki's maids, sent over to Taruhi from the Northern House’s Main Residence.

“Uhm, well, you see, there's something I've never been able to share with you, Lady Azusa. It's, well, about Lady Fuyuki……”

“About Lady Fuyuki?”

After a short moment of hesitation, the woman gathered her resolve and nodded.

She had wanted to talk about that time when, after hearing the rumors about Azusa giving birth to a child, Fuyuki had forced her way to the Northern House's Main Residence. The woman confessed that, before Fuyuki’s meeting with Oryou no Kata, she had first visited Azusa's chambers.

“But you were asleep, Lazy Azusa…… and the Young Lord—Yukima was there, resting by your side as well.”

The woman had been fretting at the time, worrying whether Fuyuki would hurt Yukima. However, that couldn't be further from the truth of what happened. “The Lady, she held Yukima in her arms—and she smiled.”

“......What did you just say?”

“She smiled. Lady Fuyuki smiled,” the woman repeated, her own disbelief all over her face. “It was such a gentle, soft smile too. I hadn't ever seen her make such a face before.”

Apparently, Fuyuki didn't say anything after that. She remained deep in thought for quite a while and then went through the trouble of exiting the Main Residence and returning through the main door. That’s when she started that commotion. “I don't know what she was thinking when she did that. She was so mean to us, so I do believe she may have actually intended to give you a piece of her mind. But, at the very least, I don't think she was genuinely angry……”

Fuyuki, who flew into a rage after giving Yukima such a sweet smile. Having been a witness to such a radical change, the woman had never really been quite convinced by Fuyuki's apparent rage.

“Whenever someone bad-mouths her, I can't help but to remember that one smile…… I can't understand it.” The woman looked up at Azusa. “I wonder, Lady Azusa—why did she smile like that back then?”

The trees on the slope found at the back of the Residence had just begun to sprout leaves and still remained a grim spectacle. The pale moon peeked through their naked branches, spread out like arms through the sky. It was through them that Azusa walked alone, deep in thought.

Was Fuyuki truly the kind of woman who would waste her own life out of anger and jealousy? The kind to do something that would bring happiness to nobody?

She had been a twisted person—to say she had a good personality would be quite the lie. That said, no matter what situation she found herself in, she had proven herself to be cool-headed. She wasn't the kind of woman to act over something she felt in the heat of the moment, to let herself be thrown into despair just like that. It all must have all been, in her own way, calculated. 

Maybe——she simply wanted a child of her own?

Perhaps she had indeed been seething with anger at first, but it vanished the moment she saw Yukima. Fuyuki had been the kind to glare coldly whenever the maids were noisy, yet show not even the slightest disgust towards a bawling, inconsolable infant. She liked children—or so Azusa believed. In fact, thinking back, Azusa being six years younger had perhaps played a part in why Fuyuki had been so terribly kind to her.

However, it was clear that if she had asked for a child of her own in a normal manner, everyone would have opposed the idea. Fuyuki had surely long accepted the fact that Yukimasa didn't like her and figured out that he would listen to the Northern House's opinion on the matter. In short, he would never put Fuyuki's health at risk.

Hence, she pretended to be furious.

She flew into a fake rage, claiming that she would kill herself if they didn't let her do it. In doing so, she forced those around her to give in—left them with no alternative. She had to be fully aware that it would murder her reputation and would cause no small amount of trouble afterwards.

She must have wanted that child terribly.

It may be conceited of Azusa to think so, but maybe, just maybe, Fuyuki did so because it was Azusa who took the position of concubine. After all, Fuyuki hated her noble relatives. She would never willingly entrust her precious son to them and it had been on Azusa as Yukimasa’s wife to choose if she wanted to raise Yukiya herself or not.

That there was an element of payback to it was clear. Azusa didn't doubt for a second that Fuyuki had been furious but, if her own predictions were accurate and she wanted a child more than anything, Fuyuki wouldn't ever do anything as stupid as letting such petty feelings get in her way. To ruin everything.

Fuyuki was cool-headed, twisted and mean-spirited, yet she was—more than anything else—a deeply, deeply loving woman. She must have loved her son and trusted Azusa.

——‘If it's Azusa, she'll surely treat my child right, right?’

It had taken her quite a long time, but Azusa felt like she had finally gotten to hear Fuyuki’s true feelings.

‘Please, take good care of my child.’

“Yes, that's true, Lady Fuyuki. He's our son,” Azusa said out loud as she walked on. “That's why, please, Lady Fuyuki, please protect Yukiya and Yukichi. Bring them back home safe and sound.”

Just after she said that, Azusa felt the trees sway. There was, however, no wind anywhere. The hazy moon among the treetops softly twisted as if in response to the strangeness. A second later, its pale, blurred edges became sharper and its light brighter. A dark shadow was floating right there, its back against the massive full moon.

Azusa focused her sight on it for a while. She gulped.

——The shadow was, in truth, an unbelievably large bird.

She had never seen one as gigantic before—not even at the Northern House's Main Residence, where the most renowned horses of the country all gathered. She was busy trying to determine whether it could even be considered the same race as her, when she noticed it was coming in her direction, slowly approaching the Residence.

It landed with ease in front of the petrified Azusa. The wind raised by its flapping winds made her hair dance in the air. After watching it up close, Azusa could confirm that it actually was an incredibly large crow, easily about three times larger than your average Yatagarasu. Its beak was the color of black steel and very sharp.

She should have been terrified at the sight, yet, strangely enough, she wasn’t.

It looked at Azusa with sparkly crystal-like eyes, its feathers so glossy they shone in purples and lapis lazuli blue even under the faint moonlight. Even putting its size aside, there was something different about it—the atmosphere enveloping it was just different from your average Yatagarasu.

Azusa was looking up in astonishment when, moments later, she noticed the crow was holding something in its beak. What could it be?

——It looked like a basket.

Just as she realized that much, the giant crow gently placed the item on the ground.

“Are they your sons?” a surprisingly high voice asked her. He sounded like a mere boy.

Azusa took a better look when asked. Within the basket, made of flowering wisteria vines, were her sleeping sons. “Yukiya—! Yukichi!”

She ran to them, hanging onto the basket. There was Yukiya, covered in mud from head to toe, hugging his little brother tight. Yukichi’s eyes were bright red and puffy but, as far as Azusa could see, he was completely unharmed.

“Don't worry. I made them sleep for a bit but they should wake up soon. I'm sorry for everything,” the massive crow spoke in clear Words of Within(10). He then bowed his head. “I did such a sloppy job with mending the Barrier that the children tripped into the Tear.”

His explanation, on the other hand, made no sense to Azusa. She looked at him with her mouth left open as the crow tried again, “What I’m trying to say is that these children got caught in a place they couldn’t escape by themselves. It was my fault so, please, don’t scold them for it.”

Azusa, having fully forgotten herself by that point, nodded. “Are you—a messenger from Lord Yamagami?”

“...… Ah, well, something like that.”

“Thank you for saving my sons.”

“It was my fault in the first place. There may be a chance these children and I meet again in the future, they’re good kids. Please, raise them well.” With those words, the crow flapped his wings again and took off. Once more, the moon twisted ever so softly and, in a matter of seconds, the massive crow vanished, melting away into the sky as if it were all an illusion.

Azusa remained frozen for a short while. However, just moments after the crow disappeared, she saw Yukiya starting to stir. “Yukiya, Yukiya! Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Mother……?”

Azusa knew it wasn’t right to scold him, yet she couldn’t quite help herself. “You idiot! Where did you even go? Do you have any injuries? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine—”

“Ah, I’m so glad you’re safe.” Azusa tightly hugged the still dazed Yukiya.

But their hug didn’t last long, as Yukiya came to himself and screamed, “And Yukichi?!”

Yukichi awoke right then and there, perhaps prompted by his brother yelling out his name. He seemed just as utterly confused, but the moment he recognized Azusa’s face, his daze was replaced by bawling. “Mother!”

“Yukichi!”

“I’m sorry!” As his little brother latched onto Azusa, Yukiya naturally moved back a little. “I tried to come back after a bit, but I couldn’t find the path I had used for the way out.”

“I see.”

“But why? I mean, this is the back of the Township Lord’s Residence, isn’t it?” Yukiya, who had figured out where they were after taking in their surroundings, looked utterly baffled at the situation. “Why did we get lost……?”

“You must have snuck into Lord Yamagami’s garden. Still, you were a good older brother and took care of Yukichi, didn’t you?” Pointedly ignoring the fact that Yukiya had moved back in some form of restraint, Azusa squeezed the boy close. “Thank you.”

Yukiya’s furrowed brow relaxed completely. His expression at the moment was no different from the one he once wore as an infant. “...... It actually was… scary.”

“It was, wasn’t it? It had to be so, so scary.”

“I wanted to return but I couldn’t! Yukichi was crying and I was so hungry—”

“And yet you still protected your brother, didn’t you? You were such a strong boy. I’m proud of you, very well done.”

The second Azusa said so, Yukiya unexpectedly burst into tears. He wept just as loudly as Yukichi had.

“I’m hungry! I want to go back home! I’m going home!” Yukiya yelled between sobs, his face completely red. It was such a shock, Yukichi’s own tears stopped. It had been such a long time since Yukiya had last cried like that, now that Azusa thought about it—so unlike the eldest and the youngest, who would fight and cry over any little thing.

“I’m sorry, Yukiya. Let’s go back.” Yukiya had to endure so much over the years, Azusa realized. She felt so apologetic but, at least, if he was still capable of crying out like that, there was still something to be done about it. 

Having heard Yukiya’s cries, people rushed from the Residence in a panic. At the head of the group was Yukimasa, sprinting towards them as fast as he could.

“Yukiya, Yukichi! Where did you go!? We were worried sick,” her husband yelled with obvious relief. Her eldest too was right behind him, running and tumbling down towards them.

There was still time. It may never be smooth sailing, but Yukiya was still her son and they were all a family. Azusa, more than anything, was glad for realizing that much before it was too late.

Legends said that Yatagarasu went on to serve under Yamagami after death. Perhaps Fuyuki now worked for Yamagami and, having realized things couldn’t remain like that, had given her a chance to realize her mistake.

——The wind blew between the trees. It sounded like Fuyuki’s gentle laugh.

—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---

1: The original title (ふゆきにおもう, or Fuyuki Ni Omou) is an interesting one. Fuyuki's name is translated in the title because I find the imagery of the barren tree extremely important to Fuyuki's story. Fuyuki is also a Karina, or alias, not her birth name. Much like Asebi at the start of the story, this is a name that was given to her later in her life. It’s very purposely selected and so this choice is made with the intention of highlighting it. As for the “Thoughts of”, おもう is very interesting. おもう can be 思う and also 想う, as in, ‘to feel (emotions)’, which used in this kind of context mostly means ‘to care’ or ‘to love’. 

2: Yukichi’s nickname among the family is チー坊, Chiibou, with the bou or 坊 being a kanji for a young boy and used in words like 坊や or 坊主, both meaning “boy” with different connotations, or 坊っちゃん, which is a relatively affectionate way to talk about the young son of a good family.

3: This is a wordplay used by Fuyuki. The word idiot, baka (馬鹿), in japanese is an ateji: essentially, it was given kanji that fit it pronunciation-wise but not meaning-wise. The two kanji? “Horse” (Ba) and “deer” (Ka). She’s layering the insults.

4: The narration is referring specifically to the gambling game that Wakamiya played in the Ravine back in The Raven Doesn’t Choose His Master.

5: Kemari refers to a ball game practiced in Japan since ancient times, a form of primitive football. It was indeed historically popular among courtiers and people of the nobility at the time.

6: Fatuous Fire Lamps refer to the type of lamp Yukiya uses when going into the cave during Golden Raven. In short, they use 鬼火 (Fatuous Fire), which within the story’s lore consume sugar to light up instead and don’t risk burning your house if left unchecked or broken. This makes lamps using Fatuous Fires desirable and expensive—they’re a common sight in nobles’ houses and in places where the risk of a fire would be too great like libraries and archives.

7: Bellflowers have been actually used in Japan as temporal ‘cages’ for fireflies, to the point their japanese name is 蛍袋 (hotarubukuro), meaning ‘firefly bag.’ Green onion heads aren’t nearly as popular an option as far as I know, but being empty inside makes them suitable for the purpose too.

8: Yukima (雪馬) and Yukichi (雪雉) both use, as said here, the kanji of animals. The Ma in Yukima means horse and the Chi in Yukichi green pheasant. Yukiya is the exception, as the kanji of his name isn’t that of an animal and is instead inherited from his grandfather (Gen’ya or 玄哉). One could argue that 哉 being part of the word for a japanese male sparrowhawk (悦哉) kind of keeps the theming, but the animal is the meaning itself of the kanji for both the Ma and the Chi, but not the Ya.

9: The original term for Broodmaid is a pun. The word for nursemaid is 乳母, or ‘uba’, and uses the kanji for milk and for mother respectively. In this context, 乳, or milk, is read ‘u.’ There’s another kanji that can also be read ‘u’—羽, feather. And so, the women who help incubate and take care of a noblewoman’s child in this setting are also ‘uba’ but written 羽母. Hence I went with ‘broodmaid’ as an adaptation of ‘nursemaid’.

10: As alluded to here, the language spoken in Yamauchi is referred to as 御内詞 (Miuchikotoba) by the Yatagarasu. The “Mi” is essentially a prefix showing respect to the “uchi” which is the uchi from Yamauchi and means “inside”, and finally the “kotoba” isn’t using the usual kanji (言葉) but 詞, which also means words but it’s used more in the context of poetry or music lyrics. Words of Within is my take on the idea, as it mostly respects the spirit of the original while being understandable.

[brokerkisser]

does anyone care about my headcanon that Stratos is rlly big on phsyical affection but never gets to really express it... Bc he doesn't have the time to + a bit embarassed to do so.............. he's just a giant cuddle bug to me. Stratos bear hugging everyone.. goodnight

[s0dium]

I need you

Synopsis: Choso needs to fuck you despite the fact that you are Yuuji's babysitter.

Warnings: Desperate sex, rough sex

Visual link: xxxxx

Choso thinks you are an angel.

Honestly.

He marvels at how you always help his family out by babysitting his little brother Yuji, even if it's late at night. Your kindness shines through in every action, and he can't help but notice how your eyes glow like an angel's, your skin seems so soft, and your voice carries a soothing, gentle tone. It's not just what you do; it's the way you do it, with such grace and beauty, that makes him believe you truly are a blessing to his family.

So that is why he must do this.

His touches are relentless, drawing you into his room the moment Yuuji is asleep. You can barely even get a word in before his bigger hands are under your shirt, exploring the warmth of your skin, a desperate longing evident in each caress. You want to tell him to slow down, to truly connect beyond the frantic urgency. But your words dissolve into breathless whispers as you meet his dark tired eyes that are practically begging for you, begging to be with you, begging to feel you.

"I like kissing you." He murmurs against your lips. "I like you. I like you so much, you are so pretty. I like and love you."

You let yourself fall into his touch and Choso captures your mouth with his, a deep, enveloping kiss that makes you moan and whine for more. As he gently removes your tank top and shorts, leaving you in your bra and underwear and he devotes attention to every inch of your skin, delivering tender nips, soft sucks, and gentle bites.

"Perfect." He mumbles under his breath, burying his nose into the crook of your neck to pepper the delicate skin with soft kisses. "Fuck, you are so perfect, baby."

Your mind grows fuzzy at his words and you let out a sharp gasp when you feel him pull the hem of your underwear down your legs.

"Jump," he commands softly, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through you. Without hesitation, you leap up and in one fluid motion, he lifts you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, securing you against him as he presses you against the wall. Your fingers find their way into his black hair tied up in buns long, tugging gently at the strands, anchoring yourself to him as his kisses deepen. You don't even notice that he has lowered his pants until you feel the hard pressure against your tight hole, making you instinctively squirm away.

"Stay still f'me ok baby?" Choso groans, peppering kisses along your jaw while he aligns himself with you. Without warning, he thrusts into you, the sudden friction and collision with your G-spot knocking the wind out of your lungs. It's as if every fiber of your being is tuned to this moment, each caress and sensation amplifying the pleasure that surges through you. You feel a soft shiver start at the base of your spine, traveling upward, making your skin tingle with exquisite delight. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as Choso thrusts into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the grith of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, the euphoria of him fitting snuggly against walls with every thrust. The friction is incredible and it made pain quickly turn into pleasure. The tightness of your cunt has Choso gasping for breath, the grip on your hips almost bruising as he tries to keep himself from spilling inside of you right here and now.

"I can feel you baby, sh-shit, I can feel you doing it to me." Choso is not a whining man but here he is falling apart at the warmth of your cunt. God you were heaven, he thinks he would be eternally happy if he could just spend all his time inside of you, feeling you squeeze around him, smelling the intoxicating scent of your shampoo. He uses you like his personal cock sleeve, thrusting up into your warm cunt with such vigor that it shapes your insides and bruises your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.

For a moment, he slows down, leaning down to the space between you and letting a glob of thick spit drop onto your clit. He moves side to side, opening up your folds and rubbing your clit. You cry from the pleasure and Choso's Adam apple bobs as he groans as well.

He's close, and he knows you are too.

He is glaring at you with hooded eyes, watching the expressions of pleasure you make intently. Choso is caught in some sort of trance, like even though he is fucking you, he is powerless to you.

Your mind begins to drift, losing itself in the intensity of the experience of Choso fucking you. Time seems to blur, and the world around you fades, leaving only the profound connection between you and the pleasure you're immersed in. Each moment stretches and deepens, and you're carried away by the ebb and flow of sensations. Your body responds instinctively, arching off the wall and lifting your hips to meet Choso's thrusts, seeking more, craving the next wave of ecstasy. The pleasure builds and builds, a crescendo that fills you to the brim. It's a symphony of sensation, a dance of pure, unadulterated joy that leaves you breathless and yearning.

And then, in a glorious, breathtaking instant, it peaks. The world seems to explode in a kaleidoscope of bliss, and you are utterly consumed by it. Your heart races, your breath catches, and for a moment, you are weightless, suspended in a universe of pure pleasure.

Luckily for you, Choso is right there with you. His mind dips into a ocean of pleasure and before he can put a stop to it, he is spilling load upon loads of himself in you.

Damn it, he should've done this sooner.

[gutsby]

Bigger in Texas

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel won’t fit.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)

Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠

Update: @sp00kymulderr you’re a legend for this. Dick pronouns are engrained in my brain, and I’m forever grateful.

Word count: 2.3k

This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.

The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.

You, who were young enough to be his daughter.

You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.

You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.

But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.

“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.”

It was simple.

“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in your guts.”

And true.

The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.

“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.

Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.

Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.

It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.

“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.

“He’s so big.”

Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.

Again.

You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.

“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”

You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, ‘So that means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’

And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.

He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.

But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:

“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”

Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.

And his vision blurred more at that word, him.

“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”

Another quarter-inch.

“—so, so bad.”

“Daddy!”

Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.

You whimpered again.

“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”

Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.

“Honey, it’s—”

“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.

“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”

“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”

Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.

He wasn’t about to rush it now and fuck everything up.

“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”

That made you go still.

You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.

“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”

You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.

“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”

You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.

“Be brave…and patient for me.”

From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.

Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.

Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.

It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.

“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.

With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.

“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”

His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.

“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.

“He’s so…” you trailed off.

You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.

“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.

“I know.”

This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.

“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”

“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”

“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”

Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.

Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”

Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.

“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”

Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.

“You think so, sweet pea?”

“I know so. I need it.”

“Need him?”

“Y-Yes.”

How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.

Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.

As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.

“Da-a-ddy. Please.”

You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.

Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:

“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”

It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.

So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.

Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.

“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.

His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.

“Daddy.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.

He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.

“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”

You shook your head. Cried a little more.

Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.

“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”

“Y-Yeah?”

His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.

Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.

“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”

It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.

“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.

“Say what?”

“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”

The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.

His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.

“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”

You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.

And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.

Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.

When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:

“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”

His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.

It was a small pulse, at first.

Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.

Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.

He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.

You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.

You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.

He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.

It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.

Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.

Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.

Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.

“You did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”

can y’all believe this image is what inspired this fic HA

it’s only Thursday i’m sorry 😔