#love how slightly different the lines are!!

[paucubarsisimp]

surprise gone wrong

pairings: lando norris x reader

summary: in which you try surprising lando...

warnings: angst, cheating

melbourne, australia – sunday night

you hadn’t been this excited in weeks.

the plane landed thirty minutes early, but it still felt like it took forever to reach the city. every step off the plane, through customs, into the cab—it all buzzed with a kind of electricity that made your fingers twitch. you were barely keeping it together.

you were going to surprise him. your boyfriend. your person.

lando.

you hadn’t seen him in three weeks. the season had barely started, but it already felt like the world was swallowing him whole. interviews, practice, media, debriefs. your conversations had gone from long, late-night calls to quick voice notes and blurry facetimes while he was on the move.

but today was different.

he won. first place. finally.

you watched it on the tiny tv at home, hands over your mouth, heart pounding with his. and when he crossed the finish line, when the team screamed over the radio, when his voice cracked through the headset—you felt it all. pride. joy. love.

you booked the flight that same hour.

you didn’t tell him. didn’t want to. it was supposed to be a surprise. you wanted to show up, wrap your arms around him, and whisper, “you did it. i’m here.”

the rooftop bar was chaos.

you barely made it through security, but someone from mclaren must’ve recognized you and let you up. the elevator was packed with strangers—some people dressed like they lived here, others clearly part of the racing circus. cameras were already out. music thumped through the walls.

when the doors opened, the night hit you full force.

neon lights. booming bass. drinks spilling over glasses. laughter, loud and echoing. flashes from phones and disco balls and champagne bottles. the kind of party that blurred together like a fever dream.

but your eyes were searching for one thing. just one.

him.

and then you saw him.

lando.

halfway across the rooftop, surrounded by a crowd of familiar faces—some engineers, a few of the pr team, people you’d met once or twice. his curls were a mess, shirt slightly untucked, a drink in one hand, and that signature post-win smile stretched wide across his face.

your breath caught in your throat.

god, you’d missed him.

you stepped forward, your fingers gripping your purse a little tighter, heart ready to burst.

and then everything stopped.

because she was there.

a girl. standing too close. laughing at something he said, one hand on his chest.

and before you could even blink, he leaned in. and kissed her.

slow. familiar. like it wasn’t the first time.

you froze.

it was like your body short-circuited. like someone hit pause on the world, but forgot to tell your heart to stop breaking.

his hand was on her waist. hers tangled in his curls—the curls you used to touch when he couldn’t sleep, when he was anxious, when he needed grounding.

and he was smiling into it. drunk. relaxed. like there was nothing wrong.

like you weren’t even real.

you didn’t know how long you stood there.

you couldn’t move. couldn’t blink. couldn’t even breathe properly.

the music was too loud. the lights too bright. the room spinning too fast.

lando norris—your lando—was kissing someone else.

and you were just… standing there.

uninvited. unseen. the girl who showed up late to her own story.

your heels clicked too loudly as you turned around. pushed through the crowd. passed people who didn’t know you, didn’t care. the elevator took forever. someone asked if you were okay. you nodded without hearing them.

once outside, the air hit you like a wave.

melbourne at night was still buzzing. people celebrating. cars honking. the city alive.

but your world had gone completely, painfully still.

you walked. didn’t know where. didn’t care.

you just needed to get away from that rooftop. away from the music. the cameras. the kiss.

you had come here to surprise him. to celebrate with him.

but he had already moved on.

sunday night – 1:42 a.m.

you didn’t remember getting to the hotel.

your phone said it was fifteen minutes away, but your mind had gone quiet somewhere between leaving the club and stepping into the empty, too-clean lobby. everything felt hazy. like you were watching yourself from the outside, like you were just playing a part in a story that was never really yours.

the keycard slid into the door with a beep. you stepped inside the room. lights off. no sounds. just the low hum of the air conditioning and the dull ache behind your eyes.

you dropped your purse on the chair. kicked off your heels. the dress, once so carefully picked for him, slid to the floor with a whisper.

you stood there in silence. bare. weightless. like if you closed your eyes, you could just disappear.

but you didn’t.

you walked to the bed, sat on the edge, and finally—finally—let it out.

not the sobbing kind of cry. not the messy, movie-scene breakdown.

this one was quieter. smaller.

it started in your chest. then your throat. then your eyes, slow and warm and unrelenting.

you buried your face in your hands. curled in on yourself.

this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

you’d imagined it so many times.

lando opening his hotel door and seeing you there. his eyes going wide, grin stretching across his face as he pulled you in, lifted you off your feet like he always used to. his voice thick with disbelief, “you’re actually here?” followed by kisses, laughter, maybe even tears.

you would’ve run your hands through his curls, whispered, “you did it, baby,” and he would’ve held you like the world had stopped.

that was the version you flew across the world for.

but instead, he kissed someone else.

and smiled while doing it.

your phone lit up on the nightstand.

1:51 a.m. text from: oscar

hey, lando’s pretty out of it. you coming by? he’s been looking around like he forgot something. maybe you?

you stared at it.

what were you supposed to say to that?

you started typing.

i saw him.

paused.

deleted it.

typed again.

i’m here.

no. not right.

you sat there, thumbs hovering over the screen, heart pounding in your ears.

finally, you sent:

tell him congrats.

short. distant. detached.

you turned the phone face down after that.

you laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, arms crossed over your chest like you were trying to hold yourself together. the sheets smelled like hotel bleach and artificial lavender. the kind of clean that made everything feel more sterile. more empty.

you used to feel so close to him, even when he was halfway across the world.

but now?

you’d never felt farther away.

you thought about calling someone. your sister. your best friend. anyone who could make this moment less sharp. less lonely.

but how do you explain flying across the world to surprise someone, only to find out they stopped waiting for you?

how do you explain watching the person you love put their hands on someone else like it meant nothing?

you didn’t want to talk.

you just wanted to forget.

your eyes fluttered shut. and for a second, the image played again behind your eyelids.

lando, laughing. her fingers in his hair. his mouth pressed to hers.

your stomach turned.

you rolled over, facing the wall, trying to breathe past the ache.

you came all this way. you were the surprise.

but he didn’t even notice you were gone.

flashback – eight months ago, london

the rain had come out of nowhere.

you were both soaked—shoes squishing, clothes clinging to skin, hair plastered to your faces as you ran down the narrow london street, laughing like idiots.

lando had forgotten an umbrella. of course.

“i told you to check the weather,” you teased, huddled under a shop overhang, trying to catch your breath.

“you did. i just didn’t listen.”

he was grinning. water dripping from his lashes, curls a mess. he looked ridiculous. beautiful.

you stared at him, heart full, cheeks aching from smiling.

“we’re actually drenched.”

“romantic, though.” he leaned in, bumping your forehead with his. “like a movie scene.”

“a very soggy movie scene.”

he laughed. and then he kissed you. right there, in the middle of the street, while strangers rushed past and the sky kept pouring.

it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t perfect. but it was real.

that was the thing with lando—he made even the messiest moments feel soft. warm. like something you wanted to wrap yourself in.

later, back at his place, you sat on the kitchen counter in his hoodie while he made tea. music playing low, windows fogged up from the cold. the quiet kind of night that felt like home.

he walked over, pressed a mug into your hands, then stood between your legs, hands resting on your thighs.

“i hate how much i love you,” he said softly, eyes on yours.

you raised an eyebrow. “that a bad thing?”

he shook his head. “no. just scary. i’ve never had this before.”

you swallowed.

you’d never had it either.

“what’s ‘this’?”

“you.” he smiled, just a little. “you feel like the only thing that makes sense when everything else is insane.”

you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.

“then hold onto me, yeah?”

“always.”

and you believed him.

present – melbourne, 3:13 a.m.

you were still awake.

still staring at the ceiling like it had answers.

the hotel room was quiet except for the occasional car down on the street below. you hadn’t moved much. your body felt heavy. not tired, just… hollow.

you kept replaying that night. london. the rain. his hands. his words.

he said he’d hold onto you.

but somewhere between then and now, his grip slipped.

or maybe yours did.

maybe the distance got too loud. maybe the silence in between texts got too long. maybe love needs more than belief to survive.

you reached for your phone again.

no new messages.

not from him.

not from anyone.

you considered texting him. asking why. asking if he meant to do it. if he even knew you were there. if she was just some mistake or someone he’d already planned on seeing long before tonight.

but deep down, you knew the answer.

lando never did things by accident. not like that.

you turned your phone over again. shoved it under the pillow.

whatever you had—whatever you were—maybe it wasn’t enough anymore.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!

[cacoetheswriting]

I have a request. Bare with me new at this request bit.

Eddie wakes up hands cuffed to his bed with reader blowing him. Then has sex with him.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k

content warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI: explicit and mature themes, smut, established relationship, cnc, somno, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, use of toys, adult language / dirty talk, use of pet names, a little pervy, more plot than porn tbh ‘cause i don’t know how else to write smutty content, slightly possessive!reader, jealousy, slightly dom!eddie but also slightly dom!reader - unedited - pls let me know if i missed any!

a/n: pls have your age / age range stated in your bio when requesting 18+ content. cleared here in the dm’s, but it saves a lot of back and forth when it’s in the bio - for any future requests.

He’s flustered. Stumbling over his words, cheeks a deep red. He’s avoiding your gaze. Staring instead at his beat up sneakers as he rolls a twig around with the sole of his shoe.

You can’t help the smirk that circles your lips as he stammers through the pros and cons of his proposition as if it’s a thesis and he’s aiming for top marks; or a close equivalent. If only he put this much care in his homework, you think to say but bite your tongue since he’s clearly nervous enough.

“What do you think?” He asks, finally meeting your eyes. 

The look behind the brown is hopeful, eager. Like a little boy waiting in line for a shiny new comic. Only, he’s not wanting a superhero book. No.

Eddie Munson has a request of a far different variety and you’d be lying if it didn’t excite you as well.

“You want me to suck you off while you’re sleeping?”

Eddie nods.

“If you think it’s too much, you can obviously say no and we can forget I-I even suggested it.” He’s stammering again. “I-I just thought it’d be a cool thing to try—”

“I’m not opposed to it,” you say, interrupting, and shrug your shoulders to showcase indifference although you’re feeling anything other than that.

You’ve been not-so-casually hooking up with Eddie for a little over a year. 

One would say — Robin — this situationship you have with the curly-haired metal-head is the reason you haven’t been able to find a real boyfriend, but what does she know about relationships anyway? Okay, harsh. She actually knows a lot considering she’s in one. Point being, it’s Eddie. And you’d forgo any connection just to hear him moan your name every single night: even if it means absolutely nothing the next morning.

“Are you putting a timeline on this, or do you want it to be a surprise?” You ask.

“Definitely a surprise.”

A week goes by.

You think about his proposition often. Sheer excitement mixed with a fuck ton of nerves. You’ve blown him before, numerous times. He says he loves when you do. Thinks about it afterwards. Jacks off to the memory of your lips around his dick.

This is different, however. He won’t talk to you. Won’t tell you how pretty you look on your knees for him. And you get off on his words.

You sleep over at the trailer twice during the week. 

The first night, you don’t want to seem too eager and make point to show Eddie how tired you are after he’s fucked you raw. He knows not to expect it then. Instead, he opens his arms and lets you cuddle him until dreams take over.

The second night, you sort of psych yourself out. His light snores ripple through the bedroom. It’s all you can hear, aside from the thumping of your heart. You think about this situation you have found yourself in with Eddie, and wonder if perhaps Robin is right about this whole thing between you and the metal-head. Maybe you should reserve the more kinky stuff for an actual boyfriend. Especially because there’s a lot of trust required to act on deviance when the other person is asleep and trust is often reserved for more traditional relationships, you think. What you and Eddie have is lust.

Then, one afternoon the following week, Eddie surprises you.

Unfortunately, not in a nice way. He’s talking to a girl. Flirting, actually. You can see them at the bar. He says something, which must be funny because the girl places a hand on his leather-clad shoulder and pushes him gently while throwing her head back in giggles. Eddie’s not funny. Okay, he’s hilarious but he’s not a make-a-girl-flirty-laugh funny. And your blood boils.

“A vicious thing, jealousy.” Steve mumbles next to you.

“Can you even be jealous if you’re not actually with the other person?” Robin asks.

You tell them both to shut up then force yourself to look away from the bar. From the guy that’s not your boyfriend, but rather the best hookup of your life, and the pretty girl he’s flirting with, who may one day very well become his real girlfriend. One could call this thing you’re doing now spiraling. Your friends do, they say it simultaneously because they see the look in your eyes. 

Wanting to save yourself from further embarrassment, you grab your handbag and your jacket, and tell your friends goodbye. They plead with you not to go, but only for a moment because Nancy is back with the next round of drinks and they forget all about your problems of the heart (and vagina).  

You push past the sweaty bodies of Hideout goers and slip out the front door, into the cool breeze. The sound of your heels against the pavement grows louder the further you get away from the dingy bar. Eddie was your ride home. He drew the short straw on being everyone’s designated driver for the night. He’ll have one stop less to make, you think, can spend that extra time with this girl he met.

Twenty minutes on foot and you’re home. You shed the night off your back. A quick shower, a fresh set of pyjama shorts. You down a cold glass of water, then another for good measure. And just like that, you’re feeling sober and ready for bed. Ready to forget the sight of Eddie and that girl.

The night however, has other plans.

There’s a knock on your door. Metal on wood. With a sigh, you cross the living room towards it and press down on the handle. Eddie’s standing in the corridor. His head snaps up as you open to reveal the inside of your apartment.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“I came to see if you were okay,” he answers. “You left so abruptly. Didn’t even say goodbye.”

You shrug. “You seemed busy. I assumed you wouldn’t notice I left.”

Eddie’s brows string together.

“Why wouldn’t I notice?” He sounds genuinely confused, then recognition feigns on his features. “Is this because of the girl?”

You shrug again, because what else is there for you to do without completely spilling your guts.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You know there’s only you for me, right?” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Dollface, I’m not interested in anyone else. That was just harmless flirting.”

You drop your arms and step aside, letting him pass. You shut the door behind him before turning to face him once more.

“Eddie, I’m not an idiot, okay?” You begin, “I know what we’re doing is casual and that one day it might end.”

“Who says anything about wanting anything to end?” He counters with a smirk and walks away, down the hallway, towards your bedroom.

By the time you join him, the metal-head has stripped down to a T-shirt and boxers. Wordlessly, he gets into your bed and lifts the covers up, waiting for you to join him. You drop your arms with an exaggerated sigh and he laughs. Smooth, music to your ears. 

Once you do, Eddie’s asleep in minutes. But not before he murmurs, “You’re the only girl I’d let anywhere near my dick and heart.”.

You giggle. “Aren’t they one and the same?”

He snorts. “Exactly, dollface.” And proceeds to place a kiss to the top of your head before sleep takes over.

Satisfied with how the night ended up — Eddie in your bed; the usual — you get comfortable in his embrace. Feeling safe and content, it doesn’t take long for you to also fall asleep. 

When you wake, it’s still dark, aside from the bedside lamp you left switched on. Eddie’s snoring next to you, but that’s not what your sleepy self is paying attention to. Your focus is on something hard pressing into your thigh and call it possessiveness or whatever, but suddenly you think to act on his offer from a few weeks ago. Make it that much more difficult for him to leave you for ‘the real deal’.

There’s a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs locked to your iron-rod headboard (from the last time Eddie stayed over). Tentatively, you reach for it and click the loose ring around Eddie’s wrist — the hand that’s so perfectly placed above his head, since he fell asleep resting on it.

Satisfied, a smirk circling your still sleepy expression, you run your hand down his chest, stomach, until you reach the band of his boxers. You glance at the metal-head, still sleeping, his erection now in your gentle grasp. So you sit up fully, pushing the covers aside.

Without further hesitation, you first circle your tongue around the tip of his cock, lick down his shaft, and then slowly drag it up along the underside. Lightly, you flick your tongue across the vein, just under the head. Eddie shivers underneath you, but makes no further indication that he’s awake, so you let your lips envelop around his head, taking him into your mouth.

Cheeks hollow, you suck, then swirl your tongue around and lick his shaft again. He moans in his sleep, shifts under you and the handcuff rattles. You glance at him from under your lashes and wet your lips before continuing. 

You slide his cock across your mouth, once, twice, then wrap your mouth around it once more. A moment passes as you hold him, erect. His cock fills your cheeks, nudges at the back of your throat, throbbing with need. Sucking, you slide your lips upwards, licking around the tip.

A groan escapes his lips. The sound is magical and it fuels your own desires further. You feel a little bit pervy, a pool of wetness pouring between your own thighs as your lips work on his release. You pick up speed, hands cradling his balls as you take him as deep into your mouth as you can.

“Mhmmm…” Eddie moans awake, “Baby, baby, baby…”

“Let me take care of you,” you say in a sweet tone, batting your lashes for good measure, although you know he can’t see, face buried into your pillows.

You take him back into your mouth, one hand now holding him in place. You slide up and down every inch of him, again taking him as far as you can into your throat while letting your hand do the rest. At the top of the stroke, you swirl your tongue around his head.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re making my wildest dreams come true, dollface.”

Flicking your eyes up to Eddie’s face, you find him watching, his own mouth open, his eyes glassy. He tries to reach for you, but the handcuff is keeping him in place and he groans — a mix of frustration and pleasure. As you work your magic, he braces his body on the bed, so he can jerk his hips up towards your face and you smile into his crotch, his eagerness fuelling your own.

“Mhm fuck, you’re going to make me cum,” he grits.

“Please do, baby. I need your cum in my mouth.”

And you increase your speed as he drops his lock of hair back onto the pillow below. You bop your head up and down his rock-hard length, encouraging him to give in and let go. Face a sticky mess of saliva and precum, you can feel him pulsing and throbbing in your mouth. Suddenly, his hips still and his cock swells between your lips.

He gasps. Chanting your name like a prayer, the metal-head shoots his load into your mouth, feeling more awake than ever. Rhythmically, you squeeze him and press your tongue against the back of his cockhead, drawing every drop out of him. Hot, thick, liquid splatters against the inside of your cheeks and runs down your throat as you straighten, satisfied.

Eddie sits up too, or tries to at least with the fluffy cuff around his wrist. On the elbow he can rest on, he does, looking at you as if you’re an angel sent from above, just for him.

“God,” he grounds out, “You’re unbelievable, dollface.”

A smile circles your lips while you lick them clean. You shuffle closer, hovering over his chest until your mouth finds him, capturing it in a deep kiss.

“I hope this is what you had in mind when you asked me?” You ask in a soft whisper.

He huffs out a laugh. “You exceeded any expectations. You always do.”

“Good.”

And you kiss him again, but not before freeing his wrist. He shakes it, cracks it, and reaches for your face. When his lips find yours for a third time, his dominant side takes over. The moment blooms. His hands work your body, over then under your skimpy pyjama set. Breathless, sweaty. Perfect. 

Unable to contain himself much longer, Eddie pulls you on top of him, one set of fingers digging into your hip bone as the other pulls your shorts aside. He’s smooth with his motions and settles you on his, once again, fully erect dick with ease.

“It’s only you for me, baby.” He says with conviction. “Never doubt that.”

His hand on your throat, squeezing gently as you roll your hips and moan his name until you see stars.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[revelboo]

This is a sandbox storyline- basically a story starter anyone can play off of. No set Transformers universe here so any partner or partners goes- you want to romance BW Wapinator, IDW Megatron, and TFP Ratchet? Go for it. The premise? Cybertronians trying to find a human who's a compatible match to their sparks and biofields (bit different than my normal stuff, where here, a match needs to be made to be able to bond). Due to how severely endangered their species is, the factions are cooperating even if there still is palpable tension. The agreement is to lure potential matches onto a massive cruise ship where they can interact as their holomatter avatars with their real forms stashed in the hold. Flirting, chatting up, and romancing humans they're drawn to with the intent to reveal their true forms when the cruise stops at its first and only port of call. An isolated island.

If you want to play: no minors in any context, smut is fine, dub-con/forced seduction is okay, but anything beyond that is a nope. Pick whatever characters you want from any TF continuity and carry on the storyline. You can do next/previous like I do and reference this starter if you want, but you don't have to. It's free real estate since it's a very old fic I haven't touched in forever and it probably wasn't getting touched again ever otherwise, so have fun.

Cruise ship concept inspired by Swim Away by themaskismyface on Ao3

Cybertronian Cruiselines

Squinting up at the massive ship as the sun bakes you, people move around you up the walkway alone or in small groups. And some of your doubts ease a bit seeing the ship up close, because you'd honestly assumed it was a scam of some sort. The brochure that had come with your ticket had indicated it was a fantasy cruise. That you could roleplay and romance crew members as funny as it sounds.

Rounding a corner, you run into a queue of people and the cause? The two tallest men you've ever seen. One's mostly silver hair is swept back from an almost sinister, scarred face and red eyes that have to be contacts sweep over the crowd. The other one's hair so dark a black it almost looks blue in the sunlight, his eyes startlingly bright. Yeah. You absolutely understand the backlog now. Everyone gawking at the eye candy on display. That one with the contacts, his eyes almost glow with a feral light, lips twisting in annoyance. And that duster he's wearing looks too hot for the heat, his shirt halfway unbuttoned to show an expanse of tawny skin and tucked into tight fitting jeans. His buddy's shirt stretched tight over a broad chest as he smiles and reaches to hook a finger against his tie, tugging slightly.

"Welcome to the Iacon. I'm Optimus and this is my co-captain Megatron," blue eyes says, his deep voice easily carrying over the whispers. "Please get settled so we can set sail without delay." And he's sweeping an arm to get people moving in the right direction.

Glancing at the two hunks, you follow the crowd, pulling your luggage with you. If the entire crew is that lovely? You're going to have some fun. The ramp enters into an expansive main area, and your neck cranes to try and figure out how many levels there are above you. Never seen a ship this big before. Everything gleaming gold, cream, and glass. Looking far too bourgeoise for you to set foot in or touch. And it looks like the entire cruise line crew is right here, mingling and drifting among the guests. Men and women both and there doesn't seem to be any real dress code going on that you can tell. The only way to tell the crew from the guests is the lack of luggage and the little pins they're wearing. Little colored badges that look like funny faces. And there's multiple versions it looks like. Showing what their duty is, maybe?

"I can't believe that the future of our race lies with these pathetic creatures," Megatron growls, watching the humans wander up the ramp to the ship, fingers flexing in irritation at this indignancy.

Shooting him a censoring look, Optimus watches the humans go. "The strong should protect the weak. Though, these forms do take some getting used to." Rolling his shoulders, he rubs his fingers together, playing with the sensory net and the sensations that feel as real as if it was his own servos touching.

"It's a miracle humans have survived as long as they have," Megatron mutters. No claws, no fangs. Disturbingly squishy and weak, and still very determined to murder each other from what he can tell. Shuddering slightly, he growls as more of them head their way. To come gawk at him. But after centuries of failed attempts to create a hybrid or artificial spark? Their numbers are dwindling. This is the last, best option and he despises it. And as carefully as they selected humans to invite, he can't deny the dread that maybe it won't work. That the medics and scientists got it wrong and this is all a waste of time. That Cybertronians can't be saved. Head turning, he sees Autobot and Decepticon avatars crowding the railing, leaning to watch the humans that might be their salvation with open curiosity.

Annoyed when he sees several head into the ship to greet the humans. And to get close enough to see if any of them trigger reactions to their biofields. Oblivious little organics smiling and gawking at them as they're fussed over on the pretense of getting closer. Because that's the game here. A fantasy cruise where the crew, his people, cater to the human guests' whims, trying to find a compatible partner. It's horrifying that they've sunk this low.

[vicolette]

Five Minutes !

– A/N : sighh school started☹️

– Warnings : English isn’t my first language, mentions of y/n & pet names, mentions of obsession, jealousy, slightlyyyy suggestive, child neglect(?)

"You don’t have to go, my love…"

You turned around to face your boyfriend, who was laying on his bed after a long and exhausting day. It has been hours since you have first arrived at his place and your parents must be worried sick about you, so you have sent them a message that you'd arrive.

However, you knew that it was all a lie. Your parents were never home and didn’t even know that you have left the place, so you could just stay. Stay, where you were loved and adored.

"Pau, my parents are waiting." As you sugarcoated the actual situation, completely leaving out the fact that nobody was even at home to begin with, Pau only opened an eye to see where you stood.

A scowl grew on his face as he reluctantly sat up, which made you think that he would just hug you one last time and that would have been the end of it. So, as you watched him stand up from his position and tower over you, his arms open for you, it didn’t take you long to rush into his arms.

The hug was none that you haven’t experienced from him, as it was full of affection and love. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but feel odd about it, as if it was slightly different from the ones he would usually give you.

"We haven’t seen each other in so long though…" His voice was quiet, almost inaudible, as though he had just woken up from a deep slumber. Soon enough, you left his fingertips reach for the hem of your shirt, loosening it up as he lowered his head. "… can’t you stay for five more minutes?"

You sighed in defeat, feeling moved by his words, yet you knew that he would probably take longer than just five more minutes. Even so, you pulled away from him just to see his face, a small smile gracing your lips. "Alright, you big baby."

And that was all, that Pau needed.

Somehow, somewhat, you felt his nails dig into your skin as he kissed your shoulder, lining up kisses towards your neck and onto the other side. You'd be lying if you didn’t say you felt good like this, like he was merely focused on you.

Pau was a silly boy, your silly boy, but even his actions could surprise you. It should have been second nature to you – to be shocked by how he tackles his opponents while having the most innocent looking face, to make sure that he wouldn’t get hurt by the others – and yet still, you had thought that he had shown his true colors towards you.

"Y/n, have I ever told you how I loved this top?" He randomly had said, as if your whole body wasn’t shaking because of the intensity in his actions. Green eyes met yours and your knees felt weak at that, which gave him the opportunity to sit back down and enjoy seeing you like this, to enjoy you.

"But I think you look better without it."

Your heart dropped just like your head as you straddled his lap, hands on his shoulders as you passionately kissed him back with your eyes closed. Meanwhile, Pau had stolen your phone to text your mother, just to see that she had left you on delivered, since you haven’t sent a message to begin with.

This made him narrow his eyes as he placed it on the nightstand nearby and shrugged his shoulders, dismissing his confusion when he felt your fingers in his hair. Once you had lightly pushed him away to get some air, he whined at the loss of your lips and leaned in closer.

The teenager laid down on the bed with you on top of him, your chests against one another as you tried to catch your breath. Pau didn’t have any troubles since he was used to running out of air and already had great stamina, so he just waited.

However, when he felt you pull away from him, pull away from his love, just to return in a place of emptiness and pity, he groaned in frustration. When would you realize that he had you trapped in his arms, where you actually could feel secured without being judged?

For a second, the room was completely silent as you stared down at him with wide eyes, whereas his were tired and on the verge of closing and falling asleep. Pau threw his head back, feeling obsessed with the way you were looking at him, even if it made him jealous how your family had your attention instead of he.

You parted your lips to speak up, yet it took you an incredible amount of courage to voice your worries out, feeling his nails dig into your skin to leave something of his behind for you to take.

"Pau, my love, I need to go."

"Five more minutes, please."

– A/N : I have homework 💔

[kurogane2512]

Little fic inspired from a daily message with Aglaea. I wrote most of this during 3.0 and haven't done the quests from 3.1 and 3.2 so apologies if something is inaccurate.

18+ CONTENT

Game: Honkai Star Rail

Characters: Aglaea x g!p reader (Trailblazer)

Type: Fluff and smut (slightly long fic, the usual porn with plot)

Your days in Okhema passed in a rather leisurely manner after Phainon departed for the trial. The Chrysos Heirs had dispersed for their own affairs, carrying on their duty as they waited for their comrade's results. You explored the city for a few days but eventually lost interest as you had seen almost everything it had to offer and now spent most of your time in the bathhouse, relaxing in the soothing waters and befriending the citizens.

It was one of these days when you happened to message Lady Aglaea, asking about her welfare and if you could do some work for her. Out of all the Chrysos Heirs you met so far, you felt a strange attraction to her and wanted to know her better, even help her as much as you could knowing the burdens on her. Though, you had doubts about her opinion on you, but at least she didn't seem uninterested in interacting with you outside missions.

And it was due to an impromptu conversation where you ended up discussing about her likeness for plays, that you now found yourself at the finest theatre in Okhema to watch a play she had recommended. Not only that, you were sitting beside Lady Aglaea herself in the VIP arena. The rest of the place was packed to the brim as this was a new play that had become the talk of the town.

"I'm grateful for your company tonight, esteemed guest." Aglaea spoke in a courteous tone, "It is often difficult for me to find time to come here recently, but you eased my burdens quite a bit and allowed me this moment of respite. I hope you will enjoy this play."

You lightly blushed from her words, "It's fine, Lady Aglaea. I'm happy to help you. I'm also grateful that you agreed to come with me."

Aglaea smiled, "I was quite interested in this play since it's supposed to be different from the acclaimed classics, but wasn't able to secure time until now. It is an honor for me to be your partner for this experience."

You nodded with a smile then turned your gaze towards the stage as preparations were completed and an actor came out, starting to narrate his lines. The play was titled, 'Zagreus the Tyrant Falls in Love With Me'. You never expected the elegant and isolated Okhema to have plays of such manner. You had seen similar works in other planets you visited— mostly in the form of novels, films and games— but a theater play was new.

The play continued and a symphony of laughter and cheers often erupted in the theatre at the humorous presentation. You also laughed along a few times, finding the jokes actually well-made. It was one of these moments when you heard a light chuckle from your side and glanced to see Aglaea also laughing, albeit very restrained and refined. Her mouth was covered by her right hand every time she laughed, yet it was easy to tell she was liking the play.

For some reason, you couldn't focus on the play anymore once you laid eyes on her relaxed and vibrant expression. You had never seen her this way before. Your image of her so far was that of a strict, meticulous and disciplined leader, a demigod who had pledged herself to protect Amphoreus and was ready to use any means even if it brought harm to herself. You had no idea what she sacrificed for Amphoreus, but you knew nothing else mattered to her as long as Amphoreus was safe.

"Is the play not to your liking anymore?" her sudden question snapped you out of your trance, "Your eyes seem to be everywhere but there."

She turned to look at you now, suddenly meeting your gaze.

"A-Ah no!" you quickly looked away from her, "I'm still watching, it's very good!"

You tried to excuse yourself; after all, how could you just admit you were staring at her. Aglaea didn't probe you further and focused on the play instead, but she couldn't deny the slight curiosity rising in her. During the play, some wine and snacks were served to you both. You helped yourself to the snacks while she indulged in the wine, slowly drinking a glass as the play continued. Her composure became relaxed, her body leaning against the backrest. Yet her form looked elegant and beautiful as ever.

The play was finished after 2 hours. A round of applause resounded in the theater as the actors took the final bow followed by the crowd dispersing away. To your dismay, you barely paid any attention to the second half of the play as it dragged on for longer than your liking. Not to mention, the person beside you was making it hard to focus. You walked out together after a while then stopped a few steps away from the building.

"Thank you for the wonderful company. I quite enjoyed myself, and I hope you did too." Aglaea said with a smile.

"I did, thank you for recommending it. I hope we can watch more plays together if you don't mind. Not just plays, in fact. I'd love to accompany you to any matters I can."

She seemingly didn't expect you to say that as her eyes ever sightly widened before softening.

"I will keep it in mind, thank you for your consideration. On that note, I'd like to invite you for dinner at my place as gratitude for accompanying me today."

You became slightly flustered at her invitation, "O-Oh, please don't bother yourself with that. I wanted to come anyways and I had a good time. You must have lot of work to get back to...."

"I cleared up my schedule for the remaining day knowing our engagement. If you have no other appointments then I insist. I have been meaning to invite you over for quite some time and offer my hospitality personally. It is the least I can do for the aid you have given."

Finding no excuse to refuse her, you ended up agreeing and walked with her towards her residence. Your heart was beating faster as you walked, unsure of what really awaited you. Once you reached her residence, you were greeted by a slew of Garmentmakers bowing at the entrance. She must have conveyed your arrival to them and had them prepare a welcome. One of them came behind you and offered to take your coat which you hastily agreed to, trying to follow her etiquettes.

You were in awe as you glanced around her opulent mansion, the structure was similar to other buildings in Okhema but there were quite a few unique decorations which enhanced its appearance. As you were guided to the dining area, your eyes fell upon an open space nearby which contained a table with a fabric and some sewing materials on top, some mannequins scattered around and a few cupboards near the walls, a single window illuminating the space.

"What is that place for?" you pointed to the area, making Aglaea stop in her tracks and turn around to look at you.

"An echo of the past... the place I used to weave countless garments at before bearing my duties as a Chrysos Heir." there was a hint of hesitance in her voice, yet she answered unfazed.

"I... Could I see some of your creations?"

There was a brief silence before she replied, "You are welcome to take a look, but I must apprise you that there are currently no spare garments in my possession."

"It's okay, I'm glad to just visit your workspace." you said with a smile, a hint of excitement gleaming in your eyes.

Aglaea nodded and guided you to her tailoring room now. The room was quite spacious and felt empty due to how few things were kept around. You approached the table and looked at the fabric lying on top, assuming she was working on it currently.

"Do you.... not make any garments at all now?"

"....I do, occasionally. The fabric in front of you is my ongoing work. As you can see, I have barely been able to cut it into shape and I have been working on it for a few weeks now."

"You must be very busy with other things...."

"Indeed. Protecting Amphoreus, as well as gathering the coreflames are my utmost priorities. In my free time, I prefer relaxing in the bath."

You nodded in agreement and looked around the room more. Aglaea sensed your genuine interest in her work and decided to show you something special. She walked towards a nearby cupboard and took out a neatly draped robe.

"This is.... a cherished garment of mine. A robe for the priest of Mnestia."

She walked towards you and allowed you to look at the robe in her hand. Your eyes sparkled more as you closely looked at it, taking in its patterns and beauty.

"It's very beautiful, I can see how detailed your work must be."

It was a farily simple robe, unadorned and plain. She cherished it for the meaning it held, but seeing you appreciate it for just its appearance was surprising and she wondered if you were lying but she didn't sense any deceivement from you.

"Thank you. Hearing your words has given me some sense of motivation to continue on this fabric, perhaps I will weave it soon."

Aglaea smiled and walked away to keep the robe back in its place. You waited for her by looking around the room more when a Garmentmaker approached you with a bow and extended its hand towards you.

"Hm, what is it? Do you want me to do something?" you asked the Garmentmaker and it nodded then you kept your hand on it and were suddenly pulled forward, its other hand draping around your waist and you realized it was assuming a dance position with you.

"W-Wait, I can't dance—!"

It didn't hear any of your pleas and started twirling and swinging around with you, initiating a simple dance. Your steps fumbled and you feared falling many times yet the Garmentmaker held you in place and slowly refined your movements. You didn't know what it was trying to do but you decided to enjoy yourself and became more relaxed, your hand draping over its shoulder and pulling it closer.

"Garmentmaker, what are you doing?" Aglaea asked as she watched the scene unfold, unsure of the intentions of her own creation.

The Garmentmaker paid no heed to her and continued dancing with you. You giggled along the way as it swung you around, your steps becoming more graceful. A strange sense of familiarity and nostalgia evoked in Aglaea watching you both, she remembered the time she used to be so innocently impulsive and could indulge in carefree frivialties. Her eyes were focused on your smiling face and for a brief moment, she almost saw her past self in place.

She dismissed her thoughts soon after and walked towards you both. The Garmentmaker watched its master come closer and with a sneaky movement, spun you out of its arms to make you glide towards Aglaea. You didn't realize when your partner was changed, all you could feel was a different sensation in the arms that were wrapped around you now and the softness of the body pressing to yours. Only then did you realize you were now in Aglaea's embrace.

"L-Lady Aglaea— sorry!" you tried to regain your composure and release from her hold but she didn't seem keen on letting you go.

Instead, she pulled you even closer by the arm that was wrapped around your waist and intricately intertwined her other palm with yours.

With a smile on her face, she leaned closer to you, "Won't you dance with me now?~"

Your face flushed at the situation, the close proximity with her was overwhelming and you were not at all confident in your dancing skills. But before you could reply, Aglaea led you around the room with graceful and refined steps, even better than the Garmentmaker's. You feared stepping on her foot many times but each time she'd naturally correct you and didn't stop the symphony. You slowly became more confident and actively followed her lead, that's when she decided to switch your roles.

She swapped the placement of your arms- her arm that was around your waist now wrapped around your neck while you wrapped yours around her waist. No words were spoken as this exchange happened, your eyes conveying the feelings to each other and bodies moving automatically to assume the positions. The blush on your face remained as you danced, still feeling slightly nervous about doing this with her but tried your best to not disappoint her.

The last revelry approached and with a final twirl and spin, you pulled her to yourself then dipped her. Your interlocked palms released as you reached to grasp her thigh and pull her leg up till your waist while she wrapped both arms around your neck when you dipped her. Silence engulfed the room as you held this position, your heightened breaths being the only audible sound. You gazed into each other's eyes this way, feeling a connection with her.

Your gaze naturally moved down to her soft, rosy lips and you almost leaned in to kiss her but held back and instead stood her up. You attempted to release her thigh but she moved closer and raised it more, essentially wrapping her leg around your hip. You tightened your hold due to this, suddenly pulling her closer and feeling the way her arms also tightened. Your gaze moved to her lips once again and you were desperately holding back from letting your desires take over.

To your utmost surprise, it was Aglaea who made the move. She leaned closer and connected her lips to yours in a soft and gentle manner. The feeling was serene right when her lips touched yours, though you didn't have the mettle to kiss her back right away. The first kiss was short-lived, feeling more like a peck as she moved back rather quickly and left you feeling deprived. You gazed into her hooded eyes and couldn't hold back anymore.

She braced herself when you pulled her closer and connected your lips again. The kiss was rougher and impatient this time, your lips moving in quick and unkempt motions as you yearned to feel her more. Her hand slowly laced through your hair and grasped your strands then tilted your head to kiss deeper. Your tongues reached out at the same time, eagerly rolling together in a passionate manner, akin to a dance.

As the kiss continued, you suddenly felt her move against your body in a teasing manner. You almost let out a groan since she rubbed against your crotch, though you weren't sure if she did that intentionally or not. Your lips parted for a brief moment after a while, a small gasp leaving your mouth as you took in deep breaths. Yet the respite was short-lived as she slammed her lips on yours again and kissed passionately.

She once again rubbed her body on yours in a similar manner and you really felt she was doing it intentionally as if conveying something to you. That's when you decided to act and give her what she seemingly wanted. You swiftly picked her up and spun around to place her against the table behind you, making her body lean on the edge while your lips remained connected. She moaned softly from your sudden movement, yet made no attempt to stop or pull away.

"Mmh.... Y-Y/n....~" she breathed against your lips, her sweet voice sending shivers down your body and causing a throb in your crotch.

You pulled away from the kiss to breathe, panting heavily while gazing at her.

"I.... I don't know what to say, Lady Aglaea...."

You averted your gaze shyly. Aglaea smiled at your reaction then cupped your face and turned it towards herself.

"You need not say anything, for I know what's going on in your mind. Back at the theater, you were looking at me and thinking of me most of the time.... isn't that right?~"

You pursed your lips and nodded, "Of course, you'd know. There was no point in hiding it....."

She softly chuckled and continued stroking your cheek. You shifted your legs slightly which made your semi-erect shaft rub between her thighs, eliciting a muffled moan from her. Her sound and expressions were downright erotic even when reserved, you wanted to see and hear so much more of her. Without a second thought, you leaned forward and attached your lips to her neck and planted open-mouthed kisses over her skin.

She tilted her head back to give you better access, also showing she wasn't against you doing this. You kissed down till the exposed valley of her breasts then suddenly dropped to your knees, catching her off-guard. You felt up her silky smooth legs and raised her dress simultaneously until her clothed core was in sight, a wet patch beginning to form on her golden panties. You licked your lips at the sight, peppering kisses on her inner thighs now.

"Wait, Y/n...." she spoke breathily while looking down at you, her palm caressing your head.

You immediately stood up and gave her space, fearing you misunderstood the situation.

"S-Sorry, did you not want to? I assumed you were...."

She sensed your apologetic tone and wrapped golden threads around your body to pull you closer.

"As I mentioned, I was aware of your thoughts at the theater. In fact, I have been aware of your feelings for me since the beginning. Do you suppose I would have invited you for a simple dinner on such short notice otherwise?~"

Your eyes widened at her words, a blush forming on your face.

"Let's just say I didn't anticipate to move to this stage so quickly. I was going to genuinely show my hospitality then offer some special services~"

You looked away in embarrassment, "Sorry, I couldn't hold back just now...."

Aglaea chuckled and traced her slender finger down your body before stopping at your abdomen to palm your crotch, "I can't really blame you, can I? After all, the Garmentmaker certainly took liberties of its own."

You let out a muffled groan feeling her palm your erection, "T-That was.... you didn't tell it to do that?"

Aglaea shook her head sideways to convey her refusal then continued, "Nevertheless, I see no point in stopping now. I simply wanted us to be clear on certain things before moving on to the next step of this relationship."

You blushed more then nodded with a smile, "I appreciate that, thank you...."

You shared a gentle kiss then were down on your knees again immediately. Your hands caressed her thighs and pulled apart her dress to look at her core, more wetness formed on the golden cloth. You then grasped her panties and looked up at her for a moment, asking for permission, which she gave with a nod. A string of slick stuck to the fabric as it was pulled down, your eyes hooding at the sight of her bare cunt. You wasted no time and attached your lips to her clit, planting a supple kiss on it.

Aglaea let out a pleasant hum feeling your tongue lap up her folds, going up and down in simple strokes and caressing her clit simultaneously. You shifted closer and buried your face further into her, using your thumbs to spread her folds and finally insert your tongue inside. Her body arched with a low moan once, one hand shuffling to grip your head while the other clenched the table's edge. She gazed into empty space, instead using the threads to feel your touch.

Your nose touched her clit when you pushed deeper, prodding at her most sensitive spots with your tongue. It flicked inside to caress her walls, your lips wrapping around to suck at the same time. She gasped softly as you went deeper and scissored your tongue, her hips bucking into your mouth. Your hands grasped her hips and pulled her closer, she automatically spread her legs more and rested her right leg on your shoulder to give you more space.

Your eyes gazed up at her as you ate her out, sounds of sucking and slurping resounding in her ears. You pushed even deeper and somehow made her jolt up to sit on the edge of the table, her legs opening wide to accompany you. She moaned unexpectedly at your action, both of her legs hanging on your shoulders now as you diligently sucked on her bundle of nerves.

Aglaea subconsciously grinded her hips on your mouth, trying to feel you more and gain more friction against certain spots. Recognizing her efforts, you switched up your technique and pleasured other spots where she seemed to like it. She remained propped up by one arm while the other interlaced in your hair and pushed your head deeper, her legs locking around your neck as she approached her orgasm.

"Aaah.... Y/n.... i-it's nearing..... could you— mmh!~"

Her plea was seemingly cut off with a breathy moan as you moved faster now. You buried your tongue to the hilt, simultaneously rubbing her clit with your thumb now. She arched up from the combined stimulation, her nails lightly digging in your scalp as she gripped your strands tighter. You raised her body and plunged your tongue at a certain angle, the knot in her stomach snapping as you touched her most sensitive spot.

She came hard on your mouth, almost squirting her release as if she hadn't been pleasured in a long time. Her voice was mostly muffled as she came, merely taking in long breaths while she stabilized herself. You drank up every bit of her sweet, divine release, lapping away at her folds like a starved puppy. She released her grip in your head and gently caressed it as you licked her clean, gazing at you with a smile.

"I did not foresee you to be so skilled at this. My apologies if it was unsightly of me to—"

"Not at all, Lady Aglaea." you interjected, "You were beautiful. I.... I just hope you liked it...."

She remained silent for a while as if she was trying to read your thoughts then smiled, "It was a delightful experience, you have my gratitude."

You blushed from her compliment and shyly nodded, unsure of how to respond. She noted your flustered expression and found you adorable, feeling more joyous at agreeing to do this with you. She didn't need her eyes nor the golden threads to tell your throbbing erection strained in your pants, desperate for attention now. Without saying or doing anything, she stepped down from the table and turned around making you face her back now and bent against it.

You blushed more at the unexpected position, gazing at her exquisite body that was waiting for you to take her. Her back arched perfectly off the table, plentiful hips rubbing over your bulge and her lightly exposed shoulders as the straps of her dress had slipped down. Everything was picture perfect and you couldn't believe the sight was real. Aglaea sensed your strong gaze on her and looked over her shoulder, slowly swinging her hips on your bulge.

"Time is of the essence, dear guest. As the one responsible for your wellbeing, I don't want you to be constrained any longer~"

Your cock twitched at her words and you hastily undid your pants to pull it out. Her ears perked up at the sound of unzipping, her hands subconsciously clenching the table to prepare herself when she felt you drag up her dress to expose her folds. The sight of her dripping folds aroused you to no end and you wasted no more time to grasp your length and brush it across them. She shivered, hips bucking back to meet yours as if to beg for more.

"Mmh.... you don't need to wait.... I'm ready~"

You didn't need any more encouragement. With one swift thrust, you buried yourself deep inside her, feeling her warmth surround you. A soft whimper escaped her lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained need that was more intoxicating than Phagousa's honey.

You moved slowly at first, a deliberate, inch-by-inch penetration as you felt her tightness, the warm embrace that welcomed you. Her breath hitched, letting out a sharp gasp as you began to fill her.

"Ngh.... y-you feel so good.... aaah....~" you groaned, slowly pumping your hips.

"Mmh.... so do you.... o-oh.... t-there....~" she breathily replied, her hands clenching the edge of the table with each thrust you did.

You felt her internal muscles tighten around you, a wave of exquisite pressure that sent a shiver down your spine. You eased back slightly, then pushed deeper, searching for that pocket of intense sensation she was guiding you towards. Her body arched, a soft moan escaping her lips, higher pitched this time, laced with a vulnerability that made your chest ache even amidst the surging pleasure. You grasped her hips tighter, preparing to increase your pace.

"I'm going to move faster.... i-is that okay?"

"Y-Yes.... nnh.... don't hold back~"

Her words excited you to no end, but you had to remain in control and not lose yourself. You dragged out your cock once until only the tip remained inside, a sigh coming from her at the loss of your fullness. The loss was short-lived as you swiftly surged forward, burying yourself to the hilt, then pumping at an animalistic pace. She whimpered, her body rocking against the table from your frantic thrusts.

"Oh... oh Mnestia... yes...!~" she panted, her voice thick with pleasure.

Each thrust felt like a revelation, a deeper understanding of her body, her pleasure. You found a rhythm that seemed designed specifically for her, for the way she arched her back, the way her breath hitched and the way her hips tilted to meet you. The soft rubs of her plentiful curves against your hips were a delight. You could feel the heat radiating from her, a warmth that seemed to seep into your very bones.

You watched as her back arched further, a beautiful, strong curve that spoke of grace and power, even in this state of abandon. She was like a statue come to life, sculpted by the gods themselves, now yielding to your touch. The contrast between her usual regal composure and the raw, uninhibited pleasure she was experiencing was breathtaking.

You leaned forward, burying your face in the curve of her shoulder and neck, inhaling the scent of her skin, a mix of her unique fragrance and the musky aroma of arousal. Your hands wrapped around her waist, gripping her firmly, your hips continuing the onslaught on her behind.

"Tell me what you want...." you whispered against her skin, the demand a soft rumble that resonated through her body.

Your hushed voice accompanied with grunts made her shiver surprisingly, finding herself at a loss of words for a moment due to the sheer pleasure she was experiencing.

"Mmh.... f-faster.... keep going.... aaahn.... t-this is good....~"

You obliged, increasing the tempo, the thrusts becoming faster, more urgent. The sounds filling the room were primal – your groans, her gasps, the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. The delicate balance of her elegance was momentarily forgotten as pure instinct took over, her body responding with unadulterated pleasure. You focused on her, on the waves of pleasure you were coaxing from her, deriving immense satisfaction from her obvious surrender to sensation.

That's when you decided to change things. You wanted to see her, see the look on her face as she drowns in pleasure, gaze into her fathomless eyes as your bodies melted into one.

"I'm going to turn you over—!" you declared, barely giving her enough time to register the action as you immediately held up her left leg, stopping to move for a moment, and flipped her to lay on her back.

She whined— whined— from the sudden change, yet her hands were quick to reach up and hold you, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you close. You shoved your hips and hilted deep again, then started to move at the same pace as before. The moment you resumed, her head tilted back slightly, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat. Her golden eyes hooded, fixed on you, pulling you in. The whine turned into a low moan as you continued, a sound of pure, rich pleasure vibrating in her chest and against your own.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to the pulse point at her throat, tasting the salt and the heady scent of her arousal. She arched into the contact, her legs wrapping tighter around your waist, urging you deeper, faster. The rhythm quickened again, a frantic, beautiful dance between your bodies, fueled by a desperate need that transcended mere physical release. The table rocked again, your strength becoming visible as you gave up your restraints. Your hands moved her dress down to expose her ample breasts, immediately cupping them.

Aglaea gasped when she felt your lips on her hardened nipple, her arms automatically wrapping around your head to keep you in. Your tongue swirled on the bud, tasting it, then putting your lips on it to suck. She arched into you again as you sucked her nipple, pinching and twirling the other one before switching to suck it as well. Her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your face closer. Her breath hitched, ragged bursts that fueled the fire building within you.

You leaned back up and put her legs on your shoulders before grasping her waist, beginning a new onrush of desperate thrusts. Her breasts jiggled every time, ragged moans resounding in your ear. Her face that rarely harbored emotions showed intense signs of pleasure- eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, a flush spreading across her high cheekbones. You pushed deeper, harder, chasing the crest of the wave alongside her.

"I-I'm close.... hah... should I pull o—?!"

Before you could even complete your question, she waved her hand and golden threads wrapped around your torso and hips, tugging you closer and keeping you in place. You groaned in surprise, feeling your cock be pushed to the deepest depths possible. The tightness coiled around you, warm walls clenching you as if to milk you dry. Her answer was already clear, it seems she had decided this from the get-go.

You dropped her legs down and she wrapped them around your waist now, spreading her arms open for you. You leaned forward and embraced her, the warmth welcoming you, your hips rutting with her. She cupped your face and connected your lips, initiaing an intense and desperate kiss, one that was highly unlike her yet extremely endearing to you.

"S-So am I.... aaah....! Oh, for the love of Mnestia!~" she cried out, pushing your head in the crook of her neck, your face getting squished in her ample breasts.

The floodgates burst, a white-hot torrent surging through you. Your body convulsed, a guttural roar tearing from your lungs as you poured yourself into her, held captive and ecstatic by the golden threads, by her will, by her power. She moaned your name, a sharp, beautiful sound, her body arching into yours as her own release took her. It was a symphony of shared surrender, of two powerful beings collapsing into each other, stripped bare of everything but base need and profound connection.

"Ngh.... A-Aglaea—!~" you moaned her name in return as your release burst forth, the first time you uttered it without a title, and she found herself liking the sound of that.

The tension held by the golden threads lingered for another moment, a final, fading pulse, before they dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind only the ghost of warmth and the heavy reality of your bodies pressed together, slick with sweat, trembling with the aftershocks of your shared climax. Your head rested on her chest, panting, listening to the frantic beating of her heart. The air was thick with the scent of sex and something else, something faintly floral and divine that you now associated only with her.

You then slowly pulled out of her, a squelching sound coming as it dragged out of her drenched folds with a pop. Her form looked elegant as ever, even with your release leaking out of her and her body covered in sweat and heaving. She stood up soon after and embraced you again, her hand gently caressing the back of your head. You couldn't deny you were a little surprised at this, but didn't resist and returned her embrace.

"You have my heartfelt gratitude for this. I.... I had forgotten how it felt, thank you for reminding me and giving me a new, unforgettable memory."

Your eyes widened at her confession, then you gave her a shy smile.

"It's okay, I didn't do much.... I'm just glad you liked it."

Your words tugged her heartstrings, dormant feelings she didn't know she still had. Her fingers grasped your chin and pulled it up to make you look into her eyes, a sultry, seductive smile forming on her face.

"I'm open to sharing more moments like this while you are here~"

You blushed profusely, realizing what she meant.

"M-Me too.... anytime you want...."

She smiled then leaned in for a gentle kiss, sealing the deal.

You washed yourselves then eventually made way to the dining area, as she had initially planned. A feast was long prepared by the Garmentmakers who patiently waited for you both. You had forgotten their existence in that room.... you were just glad they had no face and couldn't speak. You enjoyed a hearty meal together, not speaking much of your recent intimacy, instead engaging in a casual conversation on other topics.

Once finished with the meal, you thanked her for the time spent and were ready to head back now. Although, deep inside you wished to stay a bit longer and just spend time with her, even if doing nothing. You were about to be escorted out when Aglaea sent away the Garmentmakers and approached you, suddenly feeling a bit nervous thinking of what she had in mind.

With a simple flick of her fingers, golden threads were bound around your wrists, tying them together. You stared at her wide-eyed, confused and shocked. She smirked then turned around and started walking further into the house, the threads pulling you and making you follow her. You entered a lavish bedroom, bathed in gold and silk, easily able to decipher it was her private chamber.

Before you knew it, you were shoved on the bed and pulled near the headboard by the threads, your arms held up by them. You couldn't even protest or question her, knowing well where this was headed and you couldn't deny you wanted it. You sat still and waited, watching as she slipped out of her gown, revealing her exquisite body for your eyes to feast on.

Your shaft hardened at once, feeling extremely aroused by everything now, especially her. She climbed up on the bed and crawled towards you, glancing at your erect shaft once and chuckling while her fingers traced your jaw. She straddled your lap then, hips laying snug against your erect length, arms wrapping around your neck as she came closer to whisper in your ear.

"There's more of my hospitality that I'd like to show, esteemed guest. Would you be willing to bear with me and continue this union?~"

Her angelic voice came hushed, instantly sending shivers down your spine and making your length throb. Your clothes were discarded quickly afterwards as her warmth wrapped you again, hips meeting yours with fervour and continuing the revelry from before.

~*~

It was sometime early into the day when Aglaea woke up, body intertwined with yours, marks of your passionate union adorning both of your skins. She gazed at your form sleeping peacefully beside her, feeling some kind of longing surge in her.

"Garmentmaker, bring me my measuring tools."

The puppet obliged immediately, fetching her sewing tape and a notepad. It then aided her master as she carefully took measurements of your body, ensuring not to disturb your slumber. She recalled the way she held your body the previous day, remembering some of the measurements by just touch as she didn't want to wake you up. Soon, she noted down all necessary measurements and sent the Garmentmaker away, laying back down beside you.

Her hand caressed your face as she leaned to kiss your forehead, smiling, pondering over the next garment she was going to design for a person she cherished after so long, a person she held deeply in her inhumane heart. The unfinished fabric would finally be weaved by the Dressmaster of Okhema, and it would be a garment worth no price, as the only price was her love- which she reserved for you.

[writingwisterias]

how would the different eras Leon be if, when meeting for the first time, the reader already has a child (newborn/very very young) from a past relationship? how would he act and adapt to the situation??

I love this idea!! 💓 I need more Dilf Leon....

Warnings: None

Afab!Fem!Reader

RE2:

Whenever he likes it or not kids absolutely love him

Its only natural that your child and him just click together creating almost a best friend relationship instead of a parental one

Leon doesn't really feel like he can fill this gap for them at this age, there's lots that he has to learn still etc

However, his main focus is on you and ensuring that you feel supported when you might not

If down the line your child starts to refer to him as their day etc he won't deny it instead step up and wear it with honor

In terms of a newborn both of you are out of your depth but he will help you both learn together.

Also a huge help postpartum, after all raccoon City left him with trouble sleeping so he'll do any of the night feeds if he can or stay up with you during them

RE4R:

Much like Re2 he isn't going to push for your child or accept him into that role he will just wait for it to happen

He's not around a lot so when he is, you best bet he's spoiling that child as much as he can

Theyll come to him for snacks or to stay up late and watch movies. Always opting to cuddle into him and share a blanket

You can sometimes feel replaced with the excitement of him being there but Leon will always ensure that you feel included

Always doing bedtime as a family instead of 1-1 moment with him

Light sleeper so he doesn't mind helping you through the sleep regression moments

Actually loves being woken up in the morning by them

If he gets referred to as a dad he will falter slightly not really sure if he's ready with the implications however reassurance from you that he's not over stepping then he will automatically join in

Infinite Darkness:

It would like an older version of Re2, he's the fun guy that occasionally hangs out with you

Its when it starts to get serious or he sees you struggling that it's almost auto drive in filling the role that you need him to

He'll never overstep, chosing to run off what you want for your family

The only times he does overstep is when you push him away, not wanting to burden him with the responsibility of a child that isn't his

Instead he'll bounce back at you treating you with things that you need

If you slip up and refer to him as the baby's dad or someone else does he won't let it affect him. Maybe at first he'll get frigid and freak out but when he settles more he's almost natural and feels honored to receive the title

Damnation:

The grumpier one out of all of them, not really believing he's father material at first

Will hold the child and other things if you need a minute but he's relying on you to guide him

He gives me the vibes that he doesn't really do a lot with the child at first just acknowledging it briefly

But then he becomes the favorite

The child is always clinging to him, running on stumpy legs to greet him at the door

Always opting for him to cuddle before bed

Its smaller things like this that melts his heart, his home screen is a photo of all three of you

He's taking you all out on smaller dates

Tries to stop his bad habits

The title he gains is never confirmed it just happens. Not one really mentions it, it's almost like it was meant to be

RE6:

Immediately bonds with the kid. There's no awkward moments or anything he's straight into the role

If it's a newborn he's comforting then to sleep enough that's it's difficult without him, toddlers always want him to read a story

Gets him thinking about how he wanted to have this role with sherry and is almost happy he gets to try again

There's no bad blood with the fact it isn't his,.he just accepts and works with you to ensure he's not crossing a line with the baby daddy

Will wake up to do night feeds etc you don't need to worry about it

Takes on larger responsibilities that you need him to whislt you are still recovering and trying to find a new footing in your role

Loves hearing you refer to him as the dad

Vendetta:

Starts of avoiding the kid, he's not in the right frame of mind for a relationship with them. He doesn't care that you have one he's just reluctant much like Damnation

And then he gets used to it, becomes protective over this small little bubble of joy he has

It starts of simple then it grows more when he moves in

If the child has a nightmare and comes into your room they aren't going to your side of the bed it's his

It makes him falter because he's become this staple of safety in the childs life.

You'll wake up to them snuggle into his chest laying on his outstretched arm

Death Island:

He's like a gift from God

You met him when you were really struggling and he just fit perfectly

He's the fun dad, all the kids love him and all the mum's are jealous that you have him

Constantly treating the both of you and making memories/adventures

Wears the child on his shoulders, BABY CARRIER TOO LIKE 🤤

He doesn't care, it's a chance for him to have what he's always wanted and he'll make sure he keeps it

[itzpookiepooh]

hi! I love how you write Zayne's character, it's the most that I've seen that is true to who he is in the game. I don't know if you write for just one Li specifically but if you do can I ask your take on Zayne with a partner who has a similar attitude to him, but slightly more expressive (?). This is me projecting as the eldest daughter of an Asian fam who gets told too much that me liking Zayne the most wasn't anything short of expected. thanks a bunch!

Thank you so much! I write for all of them and I try my best to make it match something they would say or do even if I might go outside the lines a little 😅 I can try my best to write this! 🤍

Similar

You and Zayne are in sync

You and Zayne have known each other for a long time. In that time you’ve pretty much been attached at the hip. Your friend group teases you guys about basically being the same person in different bodies because you guys act so similar. So it wasn’t unexpected when you both started dating. You guys fit like puzzle pieces in each other’s lives.

Now don’t get it confused your attitudes towards things are similar not you both being a carbon copy. What solidifies this? One night you and Zayne decided to take your much needed day off and spend it going out trying different foods and enjoying one of Linkon’s many festivals. In between many sweet treats that Zayne allowed both of you to indulge in, his toothaches causing him to completely freeze. You stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you alright?” You ask him waiting for a response as he rolls his shoulders, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling.

“Fine.” He brushes you off making you blink at him. Of course you didn’t believe him. You really didn’t believe him because you knew recently he got a call from his dentist telling him about his cavity. Zayne usually kept up with his hygiene but that’s hard to do when you love sweets as much as he does.

“Lying isn’t a good trait to have.” You tease him. He eyes you not making a sound. He was trying to figure out what to say next.

“Who says I’m lying?” He stands taller making you shake your head. You push your index finger into the space between his eyebrows.

“Your dentist.” You bluntly state but he refuses to give in until you restrict his sweets.

“If you don’t take it seriously now you’ll be eating mashed carrots by the time you’re 35.” You inform him making him grimace at the thought.

“It’s one toothache. You’re also exaggerating.” He states clasping his hands together. You copy his action as seriousness is written all over your face.

“Am I?” You challenge—he stares at you as if testing you as well. You raise an eyebrow at him to which he just straightens himself out. You treated him exactly how he treated you in times like this and made him slow down on the sweets he was eating.

Another time you matched his attitude was when you guys were bickering. Not arguing, not yelling just both bickering. His tone doesn’t go any higher and neither does yours. You both stop before you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t want to fight with you.” He tells you sincerely. You put your hand down giving him your full attention. All of his emotions in his eyes.

“I don’t want to fight with you either.” You reassured him. You both stand there for a moment before you give him a small smile and grab his hand to which he laces them together.

“We can figure out a solution later. Let’s take a breather and come back with solutions.” He explains to you to which you agree with a smile. He kisses your forehead as a way of letting you know all is well.

I really hope this is good ☹️

[supermarvelgirl15]

Muse

Summary: When you hit an art block, you use Logan as your newfound muse.

Pairing: Logan Howlett × f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: None!

A/N: It's the end of the spring semester! To celebrate, here's a little something of my grumpy baby girl that deserves all the love <3

Main Masterlist | AO3

××××××

Art had always been a part of your life some way or another. Whether it was just doodling something absentmindedly on a napkin or sitting outside to paint the ethereal colors of the sunset. You loved the way a pencil or brush felt in your hand as if it was made specifically for you. 

    It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you decided to become an art teacher. The idea of spreading your love of the craft with kids that had the same passion as you was a dream come true. A match made in heaven. 

    When your friend Charles offered you a position at his private school, you practically jumped at the opportunity. You weren’t a mutant yourself, but no child should be deprived of the beauty of creativity, no matter their biology. 

    You developed a quick friendship with the other occupants of the mansion, the ones that would go on to be Xavier’s X-Men. It didn’t take long for the students to fall in love with you either. 

    Hank was the first to befriend you, the two of you bonding over your shared adoration of the arts. Ororo and Jean followed soon after, happy to have another woman to team up with against the men, much to Scott’s dismay. 

    Everything was going so well. That was, at least, until you started feeling the premonitions of a burn out coming. 

    The assignments that you made for the students started becoming unoriginal. You would stare at your blank canvas, paintbrush in hand, and just sit there. All inspiration started oozing out of you piece by piece, and it was starting to affect you mentally. Art was how you could express yourself. Without it, the world seemed void of color. 

    Even Charles could see the difference in you, without having to look in your mind. He tried inviting you to go visit the new art exhibit in the city with him, but you didn’t want to look at other artist’s artworks right now; it’d only infuriate you more.  

    What was going on with you? Had you finally run out of motivation? How could you be an art teacher when you couldn’t create anything yourself? Maybe Charles should look into getting someone else, for the children’s sakes. 

    No. You refused to give up. You just needed some inspiration. All you had to do was find it. 

    So, that was what you were doing now, sitting in the garden with your sketchbook in your lap. Your pencil traced lazy circles on the page, willing something to come to you. A doodle of the flowers sat abandoned at the corner of the page, along with various other forgotten sketches of the students out in the yard. Why was this so hard?! 

    You were about to finally give up and go inside when you noticed movement in the corner of your eye. Turning slightly, you saw Logan leaning against one of the pillars with a cigar between his lips, his eyes focused on the children that just started a game of flag football. 

    Logan had been a new addition to your little found family a handful of months ago. You met him when he accidentally ran into you in the hall the day he was brought here with Rogue. Other than that, you’ve only said a few words to each other in passing. He didn’t seem like a big art guy anyway, which was too bad. He was handsome after all. 

    Staring at him, your eyes traced over his features; his eyes, nose, facial hair, mouth. Even his side profile was good looking. No fair. 

    However, you found yourself turning to a new page, your pencil sketching with a newfound purpose. You continued to steal glances at him, making sure you got every detail right, from the tips of his hair tufts to the cigar that sat loosely between his plump lips. You even drew the same scene from different angles, exploring every line of his face that you could see from your spot on the bench. 

    When you were done, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment at finally breaking through your burn out. You compared your sketches to Logan, pride swelling in your chest. You were back.  

    Little did you know, your rediscovered motivation was a one-way street. The only thing you seemed to want to draw now was... Logan. It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you wanted to find inspiration, but at least you didn’t have art block anymore, right? A muse was a muse. He was nothing more than that. 

    If he just so happened to be in the kitchen at the same time as you in the mornings, your pencil was tracing out the shape of his bedhead. If he was training in the Danger Room while you were visiting Ororo, your pen was outlining his claws that popped out between his knuckles. If he was outside smoking a cigar when you were having a lunch break, your brush was painting his gentle eyes. 

    His eyes were your favorite thing to capture, you found. They held so many different emotions in them. Sadness, anger, love, longing. Oh, you could spend hours painting his eyes, dissecting the meaning behind them. 

    Maybe he was starting to be more than a muse. 

    Days later, you were once again sat at the kitchen counter, attempting to draw Logan from memory. He had gone out on some mission a few days ago, so you made do with what you had. 

    His claws are not that long. Did he always have that crease between his brows? That’s why he always looks grumpy. His hair is not that kitty-ear like... or is it? There’re his eyes... his smile’s cute. He should smile more— 

    “Whatcha drawin’?” 

    You jumped at the voice, instinctively slamming your sketchbook shut. Turning around, you saw Logan staring at you with a quirked brow, confusion written across his features. You took a mental picture so you could draw that expression later. 

    “I, uh... it’s nothing, really,” you spat out, mentally cursing yourself. That was the most suspicious thing you could’ve said. “I didn’t know you were back.” 

    Logan continued to stare at you for a moment, picking up on your obvious changing of the subject. “Uh huh. Got back last night.” He walked around you, heading to the fridge, your sketchbook momentarily forgotten. Phew. 

    You nodded, sliding out of your seat.  “Good. That’s good. Hope everything went well.” What were you? Twelve? You had to get out of here before you made it any worse. 

   “You okay, darlin’?” Logan questioned before taking a sip from one of the bottles of soda he must’ve found in the fridge. At least, you hoped it was a soda this early in the day.  

   The pet name caught you off guard, making you momentarily forget that he was even speaking to you. Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous. To be fair, the concerned look in his eyes wasn’t helping either.  

   “Oh, yeah. I’m just... tired,” you fibbed, snatching up your sketchbook. “Better go get ready for class. See you around.” You practically sped out of there, leaving Logan completely confused.  

   What just happened? 

   Imagine his surprise when he saw your name scrawled at the top on the inside of the cover. It was your sketchbook, the one he rarely saw you without. His eyes scanned the garden, but you were nowhere to be seen.  

 Logan was on his way out to the garden to have a cigar break—since Chuck forbade him from doing it inside—when he caught a glimpse of a book laid forgotten on one of the benches. Assuming it was one of the kid’s, he picked it up, flipping it open to see if there was a name. 

   That was when his curiosity started to creep in. Every time saw you, your entire focus was stuck in the book, your pencil working a mile a minute at whatever you were sketching. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t steal glances your way when you were stuck in your little world.  

   Anyone with eyes could see that you were beautiful. He’s tried to make a move on you in the past, but every time he caught your eye or started your way, you’d disappear. He knew you were a little shy, but he’s seen you act the opposite with the others. Maybe it was just with him. 

   Which brought him back to his current predicament. You never let anyone look in your sketchbook, not even your students.  Logan’s seen some of your other work that Charles put up through the mansion; it was damn good.  So, what was wrong with taking a little peak? 

   He started flipping through the pages, seeing various drawings of landscapes, plants, and animals. There were even some sketches of Xavier, Hank, Ororo, and the others, along with some of the students. They were all good, like he expected. Why were you so secretive with it? 

   When he flipped the page, he froze. His eyes locked on the sketches that littered the page. They were of him. You drew him from different angles, getting every detail. You made him look better on paper. 

   Logan tried not to look into it too much. You drew everyone. There was nothing special about you also drawing him.  

   Then he went to the next page, where more sketches of him stared back at him. He found himself flipping through more pages, finding even more of him in various poses and wearing different expressions. You even drew his hands, his claws drawn in a way that made it look like they were glinting in the sun. 

   The last drawing was a close up of his face, particularly his eyes. The way you drew his eyes... you made him look... human. 

   Something in his chest tightened as he stared at his own eyes looking up at him. Was this how you saw him? It was just some pencil marks on a paper, so why did it make him feel like this? He really needed to stop sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. 

   His legs started moving before he even realized it, but he was certain of where they were taking him. With your sketchbook clutched tightly in his hand, Logan soon found himself standing outside your art studio. You didn’t have a class today since Summers and ‘Ro took them out on a field trip to the museum in the city. 

   Slowly, Logan eased open the door, stepping inside. He immediately found you in the corner of the studio, your view of him blocked by the canvas in front of you. You had a paintbrush tucked behind your ear as you mixed some paint, a smear of it across your cheek. He probably shouldn’t have found that as endearing as he did. 

   As he moved closer, Logan cleared his throat, not wanting to scare you again. Your eyes shot up from your pallet, widening once you registered it was him. “Oh, hi! Did you need something?” You slid off your stool, setting your pallet down on it. 

   Logan shook his head, suddenly feeling the urge to flee. Was he nervous? He doesn’t get nervous. Scared, maybe. But he wasn’t scared of you. If anything, it was the opposite. What were you doing to him?  

   “Found this,” he held up your sketchbook. “Thought you’d want it back.” 

   Your heartbeat picked up at that, drowning out Logan’s. “Oh... thanks.” You slowly reached for it as if you were taking it from a wild animal. Once it was safe in your own hands, you glanced back at him. “Did you...?” 

   “Yeah.” 

   “Oh.” 

   The two of you stayed silent as you stood there awkwardly. What was Logan supposed to say? Maybe he should’ve just lied. He’d rather go back to stolen glances than to think that you’d never draw him again.  

   He was just about to turn tail and run when you finally spoke up. “Did you like them?” 

   The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “I don’t know. You think I look that good in real life?” Logan smirked, his confidence finding its way back at the sound of your soft laughter. 

   A small smile graced your lips, your eyes glancing over at the painting you were working on. “Do you want to see it?” You took a step back, inviting him to come closer. 

   Nodding, Logan stepped forwards, turning to see your painting. He was met with a bigger and colorful version of the last drawing he saw. His eyes. 

   “I’m not finished. I’ve been basing them after other sketches I did, so they may look a little different right now,” you informed him, though he didn’t fully register what you were saying.  

   It felt like he was looking into a mirror into his soul. You somehow captured something that he wasn’t even aware of in himself. He could see his own longing. Logan didn’t know you could paint an emotion. You really saw him. 

   You must’ve mistaken his silence for disapproval because you moved further away from him. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it. I should’ve asked for your permission first. I can stop—” 

   “No.” 

   Your brows furrowed in confusion. “No?” 

   Logan scratched the back of his neck, tearing his eyes away from the painting to look at you. “It’s good. Don’t stop,” he reassured you.  

   The tension fell from your shoulders then, a sigh of relief escaping past your lips. “Well, if you’re not busy, I could use my muse right now.” You offered him a small smile, nodding to the empty stool beside the canvas. 

   Sitting on the stool, Logan offered a small smile in return. “Darlin’, I’ll be your muse any day.” 

××××××

[cobaltperun]

Love Song Requiem - No Roads Left

Mabel x Female Reader

Story summary: Damn near everything in your life was purely business. So was this. Just go in, get the job done with the girl that's been building a reputation of her own, and that was supposed to be the end of it. And it was the end of something, you just didn't think it would be the end of a whole damn drug empire!

Chapter summary: "If I could do this all over again, I'd still make the same decisions," because they led you to her. You never truly believed in love, or that it could change you, but it did, she did. Lives neither of you chose connected, and the chain of events that would follow could not be stopped.

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k

-When did I lose my sense of purpose? Can I regain what's lost inside?-

You sat at the table, looking at the landline phone in front of you. Seriously? What was this? Last century. You sighed, figuring you should have gotten used to it by now as you dialed a familiar number. Every week, at the same time, the same number, the only number you still had the right to call and expect a friendly voice on the other side of the line.

Mabel picked up immediately, just like she always did these past eight weeks. “Y/N!” she exclaimed your name, and it almost hurt to hear. It sounded so much different than it did a few months ago, the excitement and flirty tone were replaced by longing and relief, but it was worth it.

It had to be worth it.

"Hey,” you smiled, forcing the negative thoughts out of your mind for a moment, hoping that Mabel would take this all a bit easier if you didn’t show how this was affecting you. “Is everything okay there?" you hoped you'd be able to notice if she was hiding anything from you.

And Mabel was doing the same thing, focusing on the positives. "Mhm," there it was, that casual got-everything-under-control response that made you relax. "Me and Charlie are just fine. He's a bit cautious and jumpy, but he'll get used to the new apartment," an unreasonable rage filled you.

"Charlie? Mabel, you know I love you, but quit trying to rename Charcoal," you whisper-shouted at her, ignoring the warning looks people around you gave you. It was worth it, especially since Mabel laughed, actually it was more of a semi-evil cackle.

"By the time you come back he'll only respond to Charlie!" she promised.

And despite the awful future she promised, you still smiled, wishing that future would come soon. At least your cat, Charcoal, would be happy with Mabel and not left to fend for himself. That cat wouldn’t last a day on the streets.

“It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?” Mabel suddenly asked, the light-hearted tone was gone, and though you could hear Charcoal hopping onto the table and purring as Mabel pet him it did little to ease your pain.

“Yeah, it all ends tomorrow,” your smile was just sad as you sank back into the chair as much as the phone cable allowed. You couldn’t even have that without tugging at the technology from a past era.

Mabel paused, but you knew what she would say before she even began speaking. “I should come,” she kept insisting, even if you argued against it.

“It’s not safe. Besides, you know what I want you to do,” you reminded her of the promise she vowed to break, even if you made her say the words. In her own words it wouldn’t be the first lie she had to utter.

“And you know I won’t do it,” she reminded you, but then she sighed and you could hear her burying her face in her hands, and you could picture her sitting at her new table, in a new, still unfamiliar apartment, away from everything happening here, her hair tied and messy, and her lower lip trembling slightly due to the emotions she tried to bottle up. “Did this have to happen?” she asked, and even though it was a rhetorical question you still answered.

“If I could do this all over again, I'd still make the same decisions,” those decisions led you to Mabel, led you to turning your life around, and to her finally finding a way out of the life she had before. You’d pay the price for her second chance, and maybe eventually you’d get your own second chance as well.

~X~ Eight months ago ~X~

Whoever decided that morning was the right time to start a day needs to be held responsible. And whoever decided that your cat needs to be fed at six in the morning also needs to be held responsible. “Come on Charcoal, I fed you last night, let me sleep a little longer,” you pleaded, seriously considering just never getting up again. An ashtray hitting the floor made you groan, which only prompted the black menace that snuck into your life to knock something else off the table. Judging by the heavy thud it was probably your notebook. “I’ll buy a table with raised edges, just to spite you,” you muttered under your breath and sat up like you were pulling the weight of the whole continent up with you.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to wake up as your body ached. Charcoal jumped from the table onto your lap and sat there, just looking at you with his sharp, alert eyes. “You’re too awake buddy,” you scratched his head with a tired smile, once again promising you would never sleep on the couch again. You were just too tired to reach your bedroom last night.

Stupid deals.

Stupid crimes you couldn’t pull out of anymore.

Charcoal purred and you figured, what the hell, he was comfortable on your lap, so surely, he wasn’t that hungry. You fell back on the couch and closed your eyes, hoping to go back to sleep, only for the damn black cat to hop from your lap onto your chest and tap you right on the chin.

You opened your eyes and looked at the ceiling. “Fuck,” you accepted your fate, picking the cat up and dragging yourself off the couch so you could go and feed the ungrateful, impatient, adorable, lovely cat that happened to be the boss of your life. “I’ll sue you, you know. Don’t know which court can find you guilty when you’re that cute, but I’ll find one,” you leaned back against the kitchen counter and watched as your one-year-old cat devoured his food.

Little glutton.

“Get up or go to sleep?” you wondered, glancing at the drawer where you kept your laptop, safely tucked away from your cat, because nothing in your apartment was safe from Charcoal unless it was under lock and key. Glasses? Plates? Anything breakable? Locked! Decorations? Almost nonexistent, aside from plastic ones that either didn’t break easily, or were easily replaceable. Other decorations? They were proven to be unable to resist Charcoal’s need to push them off whatever they were placed on, thus they had no place in your home. The number of TVs you had to either fix or replace because he’d scratched the screen was so high you no longer had the will to count.

You may be rich, but new TVs were not something you wanted to keep spending money on.

The thought of all those TVs drained you of what little energy you had this early in the morning and you headed toward your bedroom, with Charcoal, now fed, running after you. Work could wait, you needed sleep, and as you slipped under the covers with your cat choosing to spread on the bottom of the bed you figured that was the smartest decision you made in a while.

The heavy feeling that always came with big jobs made it difficult to sleep well, but Charcoal near you helped with that.

You still felt like you were missing something.

~X~

Around noon you walked into a almost empty bar near the edge of the city. Away from prying eyes, with just enough privacy to be acceptable for your job, but casual enough to pass it off as regular meeting between two law-abiding citizens. You came in early, about fifteen minutes before the scheduled meeting time. It was a habit you picked up along the way, wanting to be more careful of your surrounding and notice any potential problems before they could even happen.

Yet twenty-five minutes later you were annoyed and getting impatient. The woman you were supposed to meet with was nowhere to be found, hell, the only person that was on their own was a beautiful girl sitting in the corner. Despite her beauty you dismissed the girl, not really willing to get involved with anyone right now. Your life was a bit too messy for your liking, too tangled up in all the crime going on in the city to risk pulling an innocent woman into all of this. You noticed her right away, she couldn’t blend in even if she tried, she just stood out too much, drawing attention with her beauty and demeanor.

You glanced toward the girl again, noticing she was annoyed, frustrated even. As if she was waiting for someone.

‘No fucking way,’ you thought, nearly spilling your drink when the thought that she could be the person you were supposed to meet crossed your mind. She was too young! Well, that was rich coming from you, but your circumstances were different!

You approached her, a bit too hastily to your liking and she looked at you, cautious right from the start. And your heart sank, that cautiousness probably meant you were right. This was Mabel. But her eyes, there was just something in her eyes, serious, intense, dark eyes drawing you in, threatening to drown you in a sea of black. “Mabel?” you asked and those dark eyes widened slightly before she regained her composure.

“Y/N?” she was just as surprised as you were, definitely not expecting this. The two of you, close to same age, maybe even the same age. In this situation.

You nodded and then tilted your head toward the chair across from her. “May I?”

Mabel raised an eyebrow, as if she didn’t expect the question. She probably didn’t. She was here to meet with you, it was business; asking if you may sit was actually quite stupid, it was a given that you may sit, that this meeting would happen. Yet you asked, maybe out of some obligation, maybe subconsciously giving her a way out. “Not a question I expected from the daughter of one of the bosses,” she pointed out and you shrugged, silently waiting for her to allow you to sit down.

When she remained silent you smirked slightly. “I’m a vampire, you need to tell me I can sit before I can do it,” you joked and she snorted at that.

“Not how it works,” but she waved dismissively at the chair. “But sure, go ahead,” you couldn’t tell if she was amused or not, but you sat down.

“I come from a long line of vampires, I make my own rules,” you joked, making her roll her eyes.

“You come from a long line of criminals,” she huffed, suspicious, not trusting you one bit, which was fair, if you were being honest. You heard of a new girl, efficient, quick, bringing in money, even if she was still a small-time drug dealer mostly working with Weeks. You also heard she was dragged into this either by or because of her family, which would explain her disdain toward you. Born into privilege, choosing to continue the family tradition because it brought you money. You couldn’t blame her for thinking that.

“We suck people dry. Whether it’s blood or money we’re sucking hardly matters,” yet you kept joking. Though people do tend to believe there’s some truth in each joke.

Mabel raised her glass of wine, probably cheap, considering where the two of you were. “To vampires then,” you accepted, raising your own glass, filled with the first non-alcoholic drink you saw on the menu, happened to be some juice that you were yet to try.

“To vampires,” you agreed, not knowing this meeting would change the course of your life. You took a sip of the juice and immediately winced at how sweet it was. “I’m sorry it took me a bit to approach you,” you ignored the sweetness and regret over not getting literally anything else. “I didn’t think you were, well, you,” you admitted. “How old are you again?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

She gave you a flat look, as if she was already tired of your bullshit. “Twenty-two,” she still answered, so she was the same age as you. “I didn’t figure out I was supposed to meet with you either, you look like you went for a run, not to talk about deals,” she pointed out, even if she herself was dressed rather casually.

You grinned a bit as you looked down at your choice of clothing, you really did look like you went for a run and stopped by to grab a drink on your way back home. “Better to look like I’m going for a run, than to catch someone’s attention and be on a run instead,” you pointed out, finally making Mabel crack a tiny smile.

“True,” she agreed, her smile spreading even as she tried to suppress it. Guarded and not willing to show even a hint of weakness or vulnerability in any way. Your parents would be proud if you had this kind of composure instead of making everything a joke. Well, jokes had their own advantages. Most of the time you seemed like you were so in control you could afford to mess around.

Yet her smile made your heart beat faster and you realized just how dangerous she could be if you didn’t play this right. “So, is everything going according to plan?” you asked, getting serious mostly out of some barely developed sense of self-preservation. Mabel nodded, confident, sure of herself, and you could physically feel the power balance shifting as she gained control.

She drank wine with smooth elegance, practiced ease, and with the glass still covering her lips she made her offer, all the while looking right into your eyes. “I can get it to you a week in advance if you pay extra.”

“I can pay you double if you deliver it tonight,” you countered, matching her gaze.

Mabel whistled. “Deal,” she agreed.

“Liar,” but you weren’t that naïve, or green, you’ve been dragged to these meeting for years before your parents made them your problem to deal with.

Mabel leaned back a bit, shrugging. “Worth a shot,” she figured and yeah, you supposed it was.

“Was it really? Staining our relationship with a lie right from the start is a bold move, Mabel,” yet she didn’t flinch.

“Expecting honor among thieves, Y/N?” she challenged you, not backing down for a single moment, and damn did you like that.

“I’m no ordinary thief,” you leaned forward. “I’m the thief in charge, and I don’t like being lied to,” her confidence wavered for a split second, before it returned with a smirk as she leaned in, almost too close, so close you could feel her breath tickling your skin and she stood up to close the distance further, putting her lips right next to your ear.

“True. You’re not in charge of me, though,” she whispered, and you felt a shiver run down your spine, but then she pulled away, taking a few steps away from the table. “We’ll fulfill our end of the deal, make sure you and your thieves pay on time.”

You heard her, but what really caught your attention was your drink that was now in her hand as she drank it, winked at you and left you with her wine and the bill.

“The fuck just happened,” you blinked a few times and then noticed the bill. “How the fuck do these guys have this wine?!” you exclaimed and could hear Mabel cackling in your head. How did you even figure she would cackle? Not that it mattered, what was this overpriced bullshit?! Did she order the most expensive wine the place had? “Damn, she’s good,” you leaned back against the chair, chuckling slightly to yourself, she got you good.

~X~

You entered your apartment, feeling tricked but somehow satisfied. Mabel’s actions were stuck in your head like an annoying song you couldn’t get rid of no matter how much you tried. “She really got me good,” you muttered to yourself as Charcoal hopped into your arms. “Hey there buddy! Did you make a mess while I was gone?” you asked, scratching the cat’s chin as he meowed and purred in your arms, and sure enough, there was quite a number of things knocked over. Pretty much anything that wasn’t locked up was on the floor. It wasn’t that many things, you learnt your lesson a long time ago, but it was still annoyingly endearing to see.

Some small plastic figures, a couple of notebooks, university guide you picked up a few years back, before your life’s path was decided for you. How did Charcoal even get it? Why wasn’t it stuck in the back of some drawer, never to be seen again until you had to clean it? Maybe Mark left it in your line of sight when he conducted a search of your apartment the last time? That was probably it.

Good old Mark, always trying to get you to turn your life around. “A life worth living,” he would often tell you while he and his partner questioned you at the station, trying to get you to crack under the pressure and the good cop bad cop dynamic because they had nothing definitive to prove your involvement.

“You’re awful, you know that?” you scolded the unbothered cat and figured you could clean the mess up tomorrow morning, after good night’s sleep. Perhaps morning would make your thoughts more coherent.

A/N: And here's a story I meant to write like a year ago. Taglist? Anyone?

[yujichoso]

sfw, but kinda suggestive I guess. part 2 (still not posted)

art: uuuke0_U

call it self sabotage or any thing you want, but there was this one time where fwb!choso that you actually thought and almost went through breaking up with him. It was night, you finally managed to convince Choso to go to a club like normal friends do. He's new to all those feelings and scenarios you put him through, like the palpitations on his heart when you touched him, or the way you made his heart warm up every time you came into a room.

either way, fwb!choso loved your presence and would never want you to go away. You had an agreement, you'd teach him the things he's missing out on withojt wanting anything in return. He tried to argue at first, but soon you made it clear you didn't want to hear more, he already gave so much of his loyalty and genuine concern for you and his family members that you wanted to give him something he wouldn't have to work for.

so, the day you finally managed to take fwb!choso out was the happiest day of your life. You were drinking and having fun, while Choso insisted on taking care of you. "So, let me at least give you a shot. You didn't touch anything, Cho," you pout, looking at him with bright eyes angelic eyes.

he smiled sweetly, knowing damn well you held him hooked on your finger and you let out an animated laugh when he signed 'Ok'. Even with the low lighting you found your way to the bar, relying on fwb!choso slightly while you waited for your turn on the line. Choso put his arms around you, holding you close and inhaling your hair scent, feeling those butterflies he always had when he was with you. But it was normal, right? He knew he loved you, you were friends after all.

when it was your turn you ordered two shots of tequila, then grabbed fwb!choso's hand and led him to a more secluded area, with less music and a little living room. "Ok, now I need you to sit," you gave him your prettiest smile that made Choso believe he may need a doctor because of the way his heart weirdly acted.

"Why don't you just give me one of these glasses so I can... taste it?" He looked at your suspiciously, but gave in anyway and sat on the couch.

"Oh my god, you don't want to ruin the fun of it. Relax, I'll do it in a funnier way," getting closer, you stood in the middle of his knees, and because the couch was big and Choso even bigger, there wasn't much difference in height. With him sat you were taller than him, right, but not that much of a difference.

one of the shot glasses went to the table next to the couch, then you motioned for him to tip his head up and open his mouth. When he did so, you poured the alcohol and saw him gagging with the horrible taste, "Hey, this is not good at all. Why would someone want this?" His face was contorted, really evident that he didn't like it one bit.

"You might think that now, that's why I brought two glasses!!! So you can try again and get used to it. Everyone loves alcohol, it's just something you gotta get used to," your smile was so bright and excited that Choso instantly knew he wouldn't be able to refuse you anything.

so that's how he ended up tipping his head back again, opening his mouth and closing his eyes waiting for the next round of the demonic liquid, but instead he felt something else.

it was a mixture of things, the sweet of your lips, the bitter of the alcohol and the sensation of your tongue. that liquid flooded from your mouth giving him what he thought was the best combination ever. Your tongue worked on his mouth kissing him passionately, waiting until he drank all the liquor, so you could sit on his lap and kiss him like you're used to.

his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, enjoying that feeling and kissing you right back like he loves to do, like he never forgot how to and the feeling of doing it for the first time. It was magical like it is now. Your hands grabbed his hair and he moaned softly, the bitter taste of the alcohol having dissipated but still tingling in his tongue.

when your mouth left his it chased after yours like a drug, like he needed more to survive or breathe again. His head went forward trying to capture your lips one more time. He was nothing more than an addicted when it came to you. "So, what did you think? Got used to it?" your expectative expression didn't let him say his true opinions, so he "Yes, it's not that bad."

maybe it was true, it was now his truth. At the moment your eyes shone expectantly and he looked at your lips slightly puffy from kissing everything you said was true and Tequila was his favorite drink from all times. He'd drink it every day if he would be able to taste your lips with it, feel how light his head was and how his tongue tingled against yours.

yeah, he could never say no to you.

"Ok, now I'm gonna hit the bathroom real fast and we can go home." You jumped out of his lap before he could say anything and went through the door right next to the couch. The door fwb!choso didn't even realise was there.

when you came back there was this girl talking to him, and you wouldn't have minded if she wasn't so close and actually touching him. But you were only fwb!reader, you didn't have anywhere stated he couldn't go out with other women, so you stayed there, torturing yourself by continuing watching and thinking that maybe you were being too selfish practically imprisionating him with you, asking to go out every day and kidnapping all his time, not letting him have these experiences with anyone else.

so you watched until the girl slipped her number inside the pocket his pocket and walked away with the biggest smile on her face. Like she scored the best point of her life. Fuck if your heart didn't throb like crazy. But one thing stuck to your mind, the thought that you were imprisoning him in a relationship he didn't even have, because you were not boyfriend and girlfriend, you were just teaching him things so he could be perfect for his life partner.

You suck in a breath and went back to him. "Can we go now?" he said, so innocently and oblivious of all the thoughts that went through your head.

"Of course." You forced a smile and grabbed his hand again so you could lead him to the exist. Choso realized something was off, realized your forced smile and distressed eyes but chose to say nothing at the moment and before they went out of the entrance door, he grabbed the paper on his pocket and threw it into the trash.

Ok, this is way too big for something that was supposed to be just a small fic, so I'm gonna write the rest in part two and if someone likes this one I post can post it too 😁.

[littlellambie]

𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

[𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞] 𝐑𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

every part of you aches at the thought of Ray being gone in the morning, But you see it in his eyes the way he needs this, he needs you tonight.

cw: implied sex, no spoilers, wc 1.1k

The bedroom was silent, except for the sound of your uneven breathing, heavy, still coming down from the climax you both shared. The lights were off, but the moon shone softly through the half-closed curtains, casting a glow across the bed it kissed the curve of Ray’s jaw, glistening off the slick sweat on his chest, and traced the lines of your bare bodies tangled together on top of the covers.

you lay draped across him, skin to skin, your cheek pressed to the warmth of his shoulder. His hand was resting on the small of my back, fingers twitching slightly like he was memorizing how your skin felt under his fingertips. your hair was a mess, sticking to your neck and his chest but he didn’t seem to care. neither did you.

his chest rose beneath you, slow and deep, but you could feel the tension starting to creep back in for a what awaited both of you tomorrow.

“Still with me?” you whispered, not sure if you were asking him or reminding yourself that he was still here. Still yours, for now.

Ray didn’t speak at first. He just turned his head and pressed a kiss to your temple

“Yeah” he said finally, voice low and rough “I’m here.”

Ray wasn’t perfect but god he was lovely. In all the little ways that mattered

you swallow hard, your fingers tracing faint lines along his collarbone. you don’t want to think about tomorrow. about watching him walk away in that uniform, about counting the days and nights until he comes back… if he comes back

would you be fine without him?

The question hits harder than you expected. the truth is, you don’t know. Maybe you could be fine without him. but you don’t want that. you want him.

Your fingers tighten slightly against his chest, and your throat burns from holding it in for too long. It slips out before you can stop it

“Ray… I’m scared.”

He freezes. and you feel it instantly how his attention completely shifts.

He lifts his head, just enough to look down at you even in the low light.

“Baby… of what?” he asks, his voice tender and filled with concern

you don’t answer right away. because how could you explain it all?

that you’re scared of waking up tomorrow and he’s not beside you.

that you’re scared he won’t come back the same. or worse… not at all.

Your lips part but your voice falters. “of losing you” you finally whisper, and it sounds so much smaller than it feels inside your chest.

He exhales slowly, closing his eyes for a second like it hurts to hear. Then he shifts turning fully to you his hand cradling your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears you didn’t even notice were there

“You’re not gonna lose me” he says firmly

“I’m coming back to you. I promise, okay? I have to.”

And you want to believe him. You do. But his eyes those eyes you’ve looked into a thousand times are different now. You can see it.

he says it like he means it “I’m coming back to you. I promise.”

but you know Ray. you know when he’s bluffing. And this isn’t one of those times.

he’s scared too.

You see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the way his thumb stills against your skin like he’s trying to keep from showing you just how deep his fear runs. and just like that, the guilt sinks in you shouldn’t have said anything.

He’s the one leaving. The one walking into danger. The one who has to be brave while you’re still wrapped in the comfort of blankets and his arms.

and here you are making it about you.

“I’m sorry Ray” you whisper, eyes dropping as your voice cracks. “I know you don’t need this right now…”

Ray’s brows pull together, and he shakes his head softly, leaning in until his breath ghosts over your lips

“Hey” he murmurs, “don’t do that. Don’t ever apologize for feeling something. Especially not with me.”

your eyes sting again, and he rubs away the tears forming before they can fall

“I need to know what’s in your head. I want it. Even the hard stuff. Especially the hard stuff.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m scared too. But if we can’t say it here just us where can we?”

You nod eyes closed, Ray watches you for a moment, searching your face in the dim moonlighting. His hand stays gentle against your cheek, but his eyes narrow slightly. He can tell.

you’re still holding on to it. fear. the uncertainty. The way it knots in your chest and refuses to leave

without a word, he shifts beneath you sitting up slowly, the blanket falling to his waist, revealing the rise and fall of his chest he reaches for you, eyes soft.

“C’mere” he murmurs,

You hesitate for half a second before he pulls you gently onto his lap, settling you against him. His arms wrap around your waist, skin against skin, warm, firm and safe. You curl into him instinctively, your legs straddling his hips, hands resting on his shoulders like they belong there. And they do. They always have.

He dips his head, pressing a kiss to your shoulder then your collarbone. Slowly and tenderly. Like he’s reminding you that in this moment he is yours.

“You’re everything to me” he whispers against your skin. “You know that, right?”

You nod, but he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“No, look at me.” His thumb tilts your chin up until your eyes meet his. “You are the reason I even make it through half of this shit. You’re my peace. My person.”

Your throat tightens again, but he keeps going

“I promise I’m gonna come back. Because I have a life to come back to. You. I want all of it. And I’m gonna fight like hell to make sure I get it.”

He brushes his knuckles down your jaw, then cups your face like it’s something delicate.

“You’re strong, baby. You’ve always been strong. And you don’t have to be okay right now, but I need you to remember that I love you. Every damn piece of you.”

You feel yourself soften in his hold, the ache still there but quieter now by the way he speaks to you

and when you look into his eyes you can tell no matter where he’s going, no matter what happens out there, some part of him will always belong to you. and maybe that’s what finally gives you the strength to move

you reach up and run your fingers through his freshly buzzed hair, pulling him closer by the nape of his neck until your lips find his.

the kiss is slow at first tender. But it deepens quickly, turning desperate, hungry.

his hands slide down your back, pulling you tighter against him as he lies back, taking you with him. The sheets twist beneath you both, bodies fitting together like you were made for this. For each other.

your mouths stay connected, exchanging air, hearts racing. there’s only skin and heat and the soft sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

and when he looks at you again lips swollen, eyebrows furrowed, eyes full of the kind of love that is honest, kind and patient. You know he meant every bit of what he said.

the room is heavy with heat and everything you just gave to each other. every touch, every soft cry, every moan, every whispered “I love you”. Your bodies are slick with sweat, hearts still pounding in sync.

Ray is the first to move, his hands slow as he pulls you closer

He rests his chin lightly on top of your head, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. One of his hands drifts down warm against your spine and begins rubbing slow, gentle circles at the small of your back just the way you like it. the way he knows so well.

the sensation of his hand is comforting, you feel your body slowly relaxing into him, sinking deeper into the safest place in the world. and maybe you are.

he presses a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring something you can’t quite make out but it doesn’t matter. His voice alone is enough.

your eyes grow heavier with every breath, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek lulling you. his scent warm and familiar, until finally you let yourself give in.

In his arms, you fall into the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in days. and Ray holds you like he never wants to let go.

the sky outside is still dark, with the faintest hint of sunrise starting to peek through

Ray is already dressed uniform on, boots laced, his dog tags resting against his chest. He stands at the edge of the bed for a long moment, just watching you. His eyes trace the curves of your body tucked under the blankets, your face soft and peaceful in sleep.

He knows he can’t bear to wake you.

Because if you opened your eyes…

If you looked at him with all that love and fear you held onto he’s not sure he’d be able to walk out that door.

so he does what he can

He leans down slowly and silent, slipping one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, gently pulling you close one last time. His face buried in your hair breathing you in like it’s the last inhale of something holy.

you stir faintly, murmuring his name half-asleep and confused. but before you can fully wake, he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“I love you” he whispers, voice thick and heavy and then he’s gone and the room is quiet again.

no matter how far he goes…

this will never fade.

Not for him.

Not for you.

IN LOVE WITH D’PHARAOH AFTER WATCHING WARFARE 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦ﾟᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི 𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

[dani-the-human]

@wonderland-woe You have given me ideas that's not good- Have this before I go to work

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

It's been a month since Yuji ate that damn finger and been riddled with a constant headache and ringing in his ears, and only now has he started to be able to distinguish the voices from each other.

HE NEED SOME MILK

Is not what he expected to wake up to today, but he appreciates the alarm... maybe.

"Can't you guys just wake me up normally? And none of you even sound like that??"

Ah the wonders of audio clips

Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy!

Kid, get off the bed and get ready

TIME TO GET GAINS

NO PAIN NO GAIN

HYPE TRAIN!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

"Ok ok, I get, I'm going. Wait, where's the one who told me blood facts?"

GAINS

GAINS

GAINS

Give her a sec kid, I think she's alseep-

*ding*

Dormancy is for the weak!

There she is

FACTS, TELL THEM WE NEED GAINS

If your heart grows too much muscle then you will die because your heart doesn't have enough room to pump blood. Besides, he's an acceptable ratio of fat an muscle for the average teen boy, although the feats he's able to accomplish don't completely line up with what should be humanly possible at his age and weight class-

What are you a doctor?

...

...

...

...

FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE

DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE

Love the creation hate the creator

In any case, what did you want?

"Oh, I was just wondering where you were since I didn't hear your voice yesterday."

Of course you didn't, I was offline doing... I don't remember.

"I mean, you guys mentioned sleeping?"

SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!

INSOMNIACS RISE UP

We don't need sleep, although we do sometimes fall into periods of dormancy, none of us remember what we do or where we go. You can summon us back though if that makes you feel better.

How do YOU know so much?!

... That is a question.

The mindless chatter continues as normal, but it still leaves Yuji with a lot of questions.

"Do any of you have names? It feels kinda rude to just say 'you'."

A scramble of words mashed together is the expected initial answer, Yuji has gotten used to many responses all at once and then having one of the voices sort through them. This time, there's no rush, only a silence that Yuji hasn't felt since before he ate Sukuna's finger on the school roof.

He doesn't like it.

"Guys?"

Probably shouldn't ask that again, kid.

" Oh, it's you! You always call me kid!"

Gotta have some consistency so you can tell us apart.

That confuses Yuji. "But your voice is also different. Yours is slightly deeper than the rest and kind of has an accent, but it's really smooth."

Huh

Never thought I'd get my voice analyzed.

Anyway, don't ask us that question again, I don't think we're allowed to tell you or really even know ourselves.

"Well, can I give you a name then? Facts is kind of a nickname already, but I don't know if she'd like it, so how about you?"

Sure kid, just don't use anyone's actual name, maybe something inanimate.

"YOSH! Then how about... Rook! Like the chess piece."

...

"... Do you not like it or-?"

PFFFFFTTTTTHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

KID, IM CRYING OH MY GOD

HA

"Whats so funny??? Did you want me to change it??"

Nonono, it's fine kid, I love it

Yuji hears a few more laughs spill from Rook before they finally compose themselves.

Rook it is then.

SO WHAT DID I MISS

Is that even out yet?

WHY ARE YOU GREEN?!?!?!

Ask our host.

"What do you mean green?"

Don't worry about it kid, now go, you're gonna be late for breakfast.

A change has occurred

I WANT A COLOR DAMMIT

--------

More extras because I gotta go soon

There's no emotes but they can do audio clips.

Mods are given colors when Yuji gives them a name and therefore power since now they have something close to an identity. This also let's them talk through a mouth easier since it's not a bunch of voices all going at once.

Gifted subs would be cursed energy

Gifted bits would be RCT

Hype trains would basically be Sikuna gradually giving Yuji more and more cursed energy depending on how big the hype train is. He has his own little cheer squad :>

And yes! The mouth is tts!! They're all fighting for control so it comes out like 20 broken radios put together into a cursed symphony!!!

I don't have an idea for channel points (I don't even use twitch what tf am I doing here????) but feel free to add your own!

I'm so sorry @videnrambles I have once again taken your idea and ran with it like that child with a knife.

OC/SIkuna AUs that I think would be funny/interesting.

Sikuna is the most aggressive version of Gordan Ramsey. Instead of trying to fight curses all of Yuji's time and energy is spent learning how to cook so the Gordan stops yelling at him.

Sikuna is Dr. Doofenshmirtz. He keeps "forcing" Yuuji to preform his evil plans and in reality it's just some shit like; steal all the forks and force them to worship you if they want a fork.

Sikuna is a twitch chat

Sikuna is Batman

Sikuna is a sweet old grandma who likes cooking and is a war veteran.

Sikuna is a kid with a really specific special interest and they keep demanding Yuji show them said special interest.

Sikuna is Todo Aoi from the future

Idk, im tired man

[personinthepalace]

Edward Bluemel's self tape for My Lady Jane

[an-internet-introvert]

Phil and Orange 🧡🧡

(Feat. Dan)

[umbravirtus]

Hans stared at the passage ahead, his shoulders rigid, every muscle coiled tight as a bowstring. The dragon souls within him had gone unnaturally quiet—a silence that felt more like the breathless moment before a storm than any true peace. Elsa's words echoed in his mind: don't assume I'll let you do it alone.

A bitter laugh threatened to escape his throat, but he swallowed it back. His fingers traced unconsciously over the walls of the passage, feeling the ridges of the rock beneath his touch. The stone was cold, grounding. Real. Unlike the phantom heat and cold that always seemed to linger just beneath his skin.

The familiar anxiety-induced temperature changes rippled through him—cold starting at his feet, heat flushing down from his scalp, then switching in an endless dance that had once left him dizzy and unmoored. But now, since the dragon souls had taken up residence in his blood, these sensations felt different. Almost… right. Like the push and pull of fire and frost were simply echoing what already lived within him. The Thu'um recognized it, harmonized with it in a way that should have been terrifying but instead felt like finally understanding a language he'd been speaking all along.

"You make it sound so simple," he said finally, his voice rough. The words came out harder than he intended, defensive. He forced himself to moderate his tone. "As if it's just a matter of… choosing differently." His hand dropped from the wall, curling into a loose fist at his side. "Love over fear. But what happens when the choice isn't yours to make? When the power itself…" He trailed off, jaw working.

The dragon souls stirred again, a distant chorus of whispers in a language that tasted like smoke and steel on his tongue. He closed his eyes briefly, forcing them back. When he opened them, his gaze was distant, focused on something far beyond the stone walls that enclosed them. "When you keep trying to be the architect of your destiny only to be proven wrong again and again."

"I've bent every part of myself trying to earn a place I was never meant to stand. Played the dutiful son. The noble warrior. The reluctant savior." His lip curled, the laugh that followed empty as a ruined chapel. "But the gods don't care what mask you wear. The ending's always the same." He stepped forward, voice steady now. Cold. Certain.

"So fine. I'll cross the line. I'll burn the map. I'll take what's mine." A pause. A breath. Something like sorrow passed behind his eyes.

"And if it doesn't matter in the end… then at least the fire will be mine to light. That's what I came to Skyrim for, and though I ended up with daedra, aedra, elves, dwemer, bandits, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, dragons, and people like you thinking I'm something more than just… resourceful—at least the field is level here. At least my effort matters. And it's not tied to the whims of a man who didn't want to have a son but a romp and ended up with both." Just when it looked like Hans was winding down, he glanced over at Anna and Kristoff and started pacing. If the man was more dragon than man, if he had a tail, it would be whipping against the ground, showing his displeasure at the situation even if he couldn't figure out what exactly displeased him yet about the picture.

"You speak of storms," he continued, quieter now. "Of losing control. But at least your power is still yours…" He caught himself, lips pressing into a thin line. He'd already said too much. The Thu'um rumbled in his chest, wanting to finish the thought, to explain how it felt to have other souls fighting for control of your voice, your body, your very being. But he pushed it down, as he always did.

Instead, he turned slightly, studying her from the corner of his eye. The way she held herself—regal even here, in this gods-forsaken cave—reminded him painfully of another time, another version of both of them. He could still remember the weight of that crown he'd so briefly worn, the way power had felt like destiny in his grasp. How wrong he'd been.

"You think you understand," he said, each word careful, measured. "Because you've walked a similar path. Because you've felt the fear, the isolation." His fingers flexed unconsciously, phantom flames dancing across his knuckles. "But you learned to heal. To create. Your power brings life." A muscle worked in his jaw. "The Thu'um only knows how to destroy."

He took a step deeper into the passage, then paused. The torchlight caught the angles of his face, casting deep shadows that seemed to emphasize the weariness etched into his features. "You're right that I haven't run. Not this time." His voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. "But don't mistake necessity for nobility. I'm here because there are worse things than Thalmor hunting parties. Worse things than frost spiders and draugr." His hand rose unconsciously to his throat again. "Things that even queens who command winter storms might not understand."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with all the things he couldn't—wouldn't—say. About the way the dragon souls grew stronger with each passing day. About how sometimes he woke up speaking words in a language he'd never learned, his throat raw from shouting in his sleep. About the growing fear that one day, the cage he'd built wouldn't be strong enough to contain what lived inside him.

Finally, he straightened, squaring his shoulders. When he spoke again, his voice had returned to that careful, professional distance. "We should keep moving. The longer we linger, the more likely the Thalmor are to pick up our trail." He gestured toward the darkness ahead. "Stay close to the walls. The floor gets treacherous further in."

But even as he moved forward, leading them deeper into the mountain's heart, her words still echoed in his mind. Don't assume I'll let you do it alone. The problem wasn't that he thought she wouldn't try. The problem was that he knew she would now. She had said so, and that prospect was scary—that meant eventually, inevitably, she would see exactly who and what he was.

The dragon souls stirred again, a chorus of ancient voices that whispered of power and freedom and the sky itself. Hans clenched his jaw, forcing them back once more. But in the darkness of the passage, his eyes flickered briefly with an inhuman light—golden and fierce as dragonfire. Blink and you'd miss it.

He quickened his pace slightly, using the physical movement to ground himself in the present. In who he was trying to be, rather than what he was, trying not to let them know. The cage might be cracking, but for now, it still held. For now, he could still choose to be the guide, the protector, the man seeking redemption, the sell-sword, whatever they choose to believe he was, except the man, the myth, the legend. The Dragonborn.

Even if, with every passing moment, making that choice became harder to make.

“Let’s move,” he said, already disappearing into the narrow throat of the stone. “The frost spiders don’t care how emotionally ready we are.” Then, quieter still, like the edge of a knife sliding back into its sheath he murmured “You’d be surprised how quiet I fall.”

His voice faded with his footsteps. Hard. Measured. Forward.

She didn’t interrupt when Hans spoke of monsters and cages, or when his voice dropped to that low, brittle place people only reached when the truth was too heavy to carry in silence anymore. She simply listened. His words shouldn’t have surprised her. But they did. It wasn't his guilt or regret. She had expected those herself. What caught her off guard was the depth of honesty. The way he peeled himself back to the bone to make sure she knew the cost of his presence. As if she didn’t already understand what it meant to live with power you didn’t ask for and a past you can’t take back.

Elsa stood in the hush that followed, the only sound the distant drip of melting ice and the whisper of wind through stone. Her breath misted in front of her, pale against the dark, and then, slowly, she spoke. “Is that what you think you are?” she asked quietly. “A monster in a cage?” She didn’t say it with scorn. There was no judgment in her voice, only the kind of weariness that comes from holding back a part of yourself for too long. “I’ve heard those words before,” she continued. “Felt them. Believed them.” Her fingers curled slightly, and frost gathered in the air around her hands, subtle and controlled. A whisper of the storm always just beneath the surface.

“I tried to lock myself away once. I thought it would protect the people I loved.” Her gaze flicked toward Anna for the briefest moment, then back to Hans. “But cages don’t save anyone. They just make it harder to breathe.” She took a small step closer. “You think I’ve learned to control it. That I’ve found peace with what I am.” She shook her head once. “There’s no peace. There are only choices. Every day, every hour, whether I let the fear win, or the love.” Her eyes didn’t waver from his. She turned her hands over, watching the pale shimmer of her magic. “That’s why I’m here,” she admitted. “Skyrim has a different kind of magic. Older, Wilder. Connected to things I don’t understand. I came looking for answers because every time I think I’ve found control something changes and suddenly I’m not in control anymore. I’m just the storm again.” She looked up at him then, something raw flickering just beneath the surface of her calm.

Elsa took a breath, then another, steadying herself in that quiet way she always had. “You haven’t run, either,” she said gently. “Whatever your reasons... you stayed.” And to Elsa that mattered more than anything else he could have said.

After a pause, her tone shifted; cooler now, reserved as his had been.

“You’re right. We should move.” She turned toward the passage, “And don’t worry,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll keep the healing magic ready.” But just before she stepped into the shadows, she hesitated. One last glance, just for him. “You think exhaustion keeps you in control,” she murmured. “Maybe it does. But you’re not the only one trying to keep something dangerous buried. So if you fall apart... don’t assume I’ll let you do it alone.”

[princescar]

Crazy how despite Mikan's love for gory movies and blood, she doesn't do an over the top murder. She doesn't even do a medical themed murder despite it being the main focus of the chapter. (Only one of her victims was a patient and she just strangled her)

Crazy how, when she wants to commit a murder for Junko, she does neck trauma.

That's Yasuke's M.O.