#or are you just trying to make it a thing to give me a chance because you know how bad I wanna dnd romance you lmao

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.6 - Resistance

ft. Karina

Family reunions can be awkward.

But none can rival this one.

Eros looks like he's going to throw up any moment - his face white as a sheet of paper. His eyes dart from Karina's face to yours. Then to the scattered naked bodies of the hunters and back to Karina's face.

“Answer me. What is this madness?”

Karina asks, the anger evident in her voice - brewing and crackling like a storm right there in the room. Her normally perfect features are twisted to a scowl that could melt any mortal into a puddle. If looks could kill, Eros would’ve been a goner five times over.

But you are now experienced enough to realize that the idol before you is indeed not an idol at all. You are not a mythology nerd but you have a vague picture of what Karina actually is.

The tingly feeling on your skin: check.

Looking like an idol: check.

Anger issues: check.

Yes. Definitely a goddess (both literally and metaphorically in this case).

“Uh….”

Eros, the literal god of love, who can make an army swoon with a wink, looks like a kid caught stealing candy. His face is pale, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. For a second, you wonder if you should step in and help, but then you remember: this is Eros’s mess. You have just narrowly escaped being slaughtered by a goddess. You are not gonna try to relive the experience.

“Mom…I…” he finally croaks, his voice cracking like a teenage boy’s.

Karina’s expression darkens. “Don’t you ‘Mom’ me, Eros,” she snaps. “Do you have any idea what you have done?”

Eros glances at you and Kazuha for backup. You give him a look that says Oh, no way, buddy. You are on your own. Kazuha seems to share your opinion but her eyes betray no emotion. You doubt even Eors’ most loyal angel is enthusiastic about dealing with an angry goddess. Especially not after what she has just gone through. Eros’s shoulders slump, realizing there’s no easy way out of this. He shuffles his feet, suddenly very interested in the floor.

“Look, it’s not that bad-” he starts.

Karina’s laugh cuts him off, sharp and humourless. “Not that bad? NOT THAT BAD? You don’t know what you are doing, Eros. You are tampering with powers you don’t understand. Stealing the helm of darkness? Doing…,” she eyes the naked spent body of Artemis aka Chaewon with disgust. “this to a daughter of Zeus? You are lucky you are not already in Tartarus”

“Mom, you don’t understand. I-”

But once again, Karina doesn’t give him a chance to speak. “And that mortal,” her gaze falls on you and you are suddenly made aware that being butt naked isn’t the best attire for a meeting with an angry goddess. In her elegant white dress, Karina may be otherworldly beautiful but the fury in her eyes is absolutely terrifying, like she can burn you to ash right on the spot. And there’s no promise that wouldn’t be the case. “has the mark of Asmodeus. The mark, Eros. Do you understand how dangerous it is? Or do you think this is another of your funny little party tricks?”

“Hey!” you protest. “I’m literally right here”

Karina shot you a look so sharp you instantly regret speaking. “Quiet, mortal. We will deal with you later”

You swallow hard and try to disappear into a wall. No such luck.

Eros raises his hands in surrender, backing up like a guy caught sneaking past curfew. “Okay, okay, I messed up! I get it, alright? But I have a plan”

Karina looks like she’s going to blow up, any moment. Her eyes, full of fury before, now seem to hold flames within. If it’s Eros’s nonchalance that sets her off or something else, you can’t be sure.

Perhaps sensing that things are going to get out of hand, Kazuha finally breaks her silence. “Your grace, ma’am Aphrodite, if I may-”

“Hold your tongue too, angel!” Karina snaps back and Kazuha gaze falls to the floor, silenced.

Lucky for you, though, because you no longer need to ask Kazuha which goddess it is again (that is, if she’s even in the mood to answer). Aphrodite, of course. It’s an easy guess,really. Who else is there aside from the goddess of beauty to take on the form of one of the top visuals of 4th gen? Even you, whose knowledge on mythology is pitiful, know that much.

Karina - no, Aphrodite - continues. “A plan?” She takes a slow, measured step towards Eros. The whole room suddenly feels hotter and you swear you are not imagining the goosebumps on your skin. She’s mad mad. “You mean the kind of plan that could unravel the balance of the cosmos, Eros? That kind of plan?”

Eros holds her gaze for a moment, then shrugs, forcing his usual smirk back onto his face. “When you put it like that, it sounds really bad ”

Karina doesn’t blink. “Because it’s really bad”

You stand off to the side, feeling like an unwanted extra in a godly family drama. It’s not everyday you see a goddess scolding her son like he’d forgotten to take out the trash - except, in this case, the trash might be something on a cosmic scale.

“So, give me a good reason Eros,” Aphrodite stops, exhaling sharply through her nose. “Or I will hand you to Zeus with my own hands”

For the first time since this whole thing started, Ero’s jolly persona is nowhere to be found. He seems to be contemplating, brows furrowed and lips stretched tight. The god of love has never looked this serious.

Finally, Eros lifts his eyes back upon Karina’s face. “Because we deserve better’” he says, and his voice, though quiet, is steady. “You deserve better”

Aphrodite’s expression froze, like she has not been expecting that.

Eros takes a step closer, his tone shifting - softer now, almost coaxing. You wonder if the ability comes with being a love god. “You were the first, mom. The first Olympian. The oldest. You were there before any of those old nutjobs were born”

The sky crackles with thunder at that, as if Zeus himself has heard Eros. And you are suddenly aware that the scenery beyond the glass has shifted - now displaying ancient Greek in its full glory, with its marble temples and bronze sculptures. The place looks eerily beautiful, deprived of people.

But Eros doesn’t seem to give two fucks about what the king of gods think, because he continues. “And yet, look where you stand now - beneath him. Beneath all of them,” his voice drips with venom. “Is that fair?”

Aphrodite is silent for a moment, then she lets out a weak chuckle. “This is crazy. You are crazy”

Nonetheless, Eros presses on. “What I’m doing….what I’ve set in motion…it’s not just for me. It’s for you. For us”

So that’s it, you think. Everything you have done so far, every near death experience you have survived; it’s all just for Eros to gain his mom’s approval. A desperate attempt of a wayward son for recognition. And you have gladly gone along with it.

You feel really stupid. But it’s too late to back out now. Because the power…..it’s addicting.

Aphrodite doesn’t speak. But she’s no longer furious, now. She’s interested. She’s listening.

Eros tilts his head towards you. “And he is the key”

You have a sudden horrible feeling that you are standing on the edge of something massive, something you weren't supposed to understand.

If Eros plans to dethrone the gods with your abilities, you doubt the outcome would be pretty. Sure, you can make goddesses and angels become your cocksleeves with your magical dick, but even that isn’t without a fight. You will literally have no chance against all the Olympians. And the mere thought of using your powers on any male god makes you shudder. Even your perverted mind has its limits.

Karina studies you as if she has read your thoughts, before turning back to Eros. “You are not the first to try” she begins slowly. “And you won’t be the first to fail. Lust can be a powerful weapon if you wield it correctly, but this? This is madness”

Eros doesn’t respond. For once, he doesn’t have a clever remark or a lazy smirk.

Aphrodite lets out a sigh. “Clean up this mess,” she gestures to the naked, spent bodies of the hunters and Artemis. “If anyone asks, I’ve never been here, got it? I’ll be watching, Eros”

And with a swish of her dress, she heads to the doorway she has come from. In an instant, the room erupts in a blinding light once more. Unfortunately, you make the mistake of staring too long and the luminous rays scorch your eyes before you shut them tight.

It takes a while for you to blink out the white spots dancing across your vision. But when you finally regain perfect sight, Aphrodite is gone.

Everything is still for a moment, before it’s broken by Eros’s voice.

“Well,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “That could’ve gone worse”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Because now, the exhaustion is hitting you all at once. The battle in Artemis’s verse, the fatigue that follows the mark’s activation, the sheer weight of what you’ve been thrown into - it crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your body feels like lead, every muscle burning, every bone aching.

The world tilts.

You sway on your feet, gripping your side as your vision blurs. Someone - Kazuha? - says your name, but it’s distant, muffled, like a sound travelling through water. Your knees buckle, and the last thing you hear before the darkness takes you is Eros’s voice, sounding oddly far away.

“Guess we push him a little too hard”

And then – nothing.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

After seeing skeletons and three headed beasts in your dreams for weeks in a row, you already know what to expect when you are beyond your consciousness. Or maybe, something far worse.

But this time, it’s different.

The material beneath you is soft, a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you remember collapsing on. Blinking against the golden light filtering from above, you push yourself up slowly, your muscles still aching from…everything.

The room around you is massive, circular, its marble walls pristine and smooth, interrupted only by tall pillars that stretch towards a domed ceiling. It reminds you of Persephone’s chamber in the underworld, the only difference being its cold, dreadful atmosphere replaced by a cheerful one.

The air smells of salt and roses, an odd combination that somehow makes sense. Sunlight streams in through openings between the pillars, casting shifting patterns across the polished floor.

You look at yourself. Your body is still bare, but it’s not misty and see through like back in your visit to the underworld. So, you are not dead yet. That’s a relief.

But you have learnt that if something looks remotely safe or welcoming in this world, it mostly isn’t. So you try to be cautious. As cautious as someone who’s butt naked and defenseless can be.

You are starting to contemplate whether you should just go back to sleep when you see her.

Karina, leaning against one of the pillars, dresses in a different outfit now - a white tank top, perfectly fitted jeans, and sneakers that look too clean to have ever touched mortal ground. It’s nothing godly but her beauty never fails to shine through, betraying her divinity.

“You’re awake,” she notes, her voice smooth, unimpressed.

You sit up stiffly, wincing at the stiffness in your limbs. “Am I dreaming?”

“Sorta” She tilts her head slightly, regarding you like an interesting specimen. “I borrow your soul for a while”

You don’t really understand what she means but decide not to raise questions. Not out of fear but rather, the curiosity of why she has brought her here in the first place.

“I have come to offer you a gift,” Karina says, answering your thoughts.

You blink, unsure you have heard her right. “A gift?”

She hums in confirmation, but doesn’t elaborate.

You hesitate, sensing a trap somewhere in her offer. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, she studies you, her gaze sharp and knowing. And then, with the faintest of smirks, she says, “Because I feel like it”

No way you are buying that.

Your mind races back to her confrontation with Eros, how she has despised his plan to dethrone the gods. “I thought you don’t agree with Eros’s plan” you say, watching her carefully.

Her smile doesn’t falter, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She shrugs. “I didn’t say that”

That throws you off. “So you agree?”

Another shrug. “I didn’t say that either”

You stare at her, frustration creeping in. “That’s not an answer”

Aphrodite sighs, folding her arms. “No, it’s not”

She steps closer, stopping just at the edge of the bed. From this distance, you can see the way the lights catch in her dark eyes, how they shimmer like a vortex of jewels. She looks casual, relaxed even, but you can sense it’s all a mask to hide something deeper.

“You think the power you have now is impressive?” she asks. “That little trick you pulled on Artemis? That’s nothing”

You frown. “Nothing?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “A fraction. A sliver. The barest hint of what you are capable of” Her assessing gaze hovers over you, like she’s imagining what you have become. “Right now, you are a candle in the dark. But given time….you could be a wildfire”

More power. That’s exactly what you are afraid of. If you have already developed the thirst for the mark, you wonder what will become of you if its power grows. Will you even be human?

You swallow hard. “And, you’re just telling me this out of the kindness of your heart, aren’t you?”

She smirks. “Oh, sweetheart. I don’t do anything out of kindness”

You don’t doubt that.

She steps back slightly, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “This gift I have planned to give you. It’s a taste of what to come”

You tense. “What kind of gift?”

She smiles, slow and deliberate. “A new ability. One you will unlock eventually. But I’m feeling generous today”

You don’t know if ‘generous’ is the right word. Whatever she’s offering, it’s not just for you. There’s something in it for her, too. There always is.

“What ability?” you ask carefully.

Karina’s smile deepens. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

And before you can react, she reaches out, pressing two fingers against your forehead.

The world tilts-

And everything explodes.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

When everything stops spinning, the marble room is gone.

You blink. The soft glow of divine architecture is replaced by dim fluorescents of a….classroom. You find yourself seated in a chair of a location too familiar.

It’s the kind of room you have seen a thousand times before - rows of wooden desks, a blackboard at the front, a few motivational posters peeling off the walls. The faint scent of chalk and old textbook lingers in the air. Outside the window, the world is…nothing. Just an endless, swirling void.

You barely have time to process the shift before you hear the click of heels against the floor.

When you turn, your brain nearly short-circuits.

Karina is leaning against the teacher’s desk, arms folded, one leg crossed over the others. Only now, she’s not in her usual jeans and tank top. Instead, she’s dressed like every high school fantasy rolled into one - a tight white blouse, unbuttoned just enough to reveal her ample cleavage, a red plaid skirt that barely reaches mid-thigh, thigh-high stockings, and glossy black heels. She’s twirling a piece of hair around one finger, watching you with amusement.

You open your mouth. Nothing comes out.

She smirks. “Welcome to my verse”

Your brain is still buffering. “Your verse is a classroom?”

“For you,” she says, hopping up onto the desk and crossing her legs. “Unlike the others you have visited, mine is unique. Do you know why?” She leans forward slightly, her tits on the brink of spilling out from the fragile fabric. “It shifts and bends…according to the visitor’s deepest kink”

You stiffen. “That - that’s not true”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Then why do I look like this?”

You have no answer.

Karina chuckles, tapping a finger against her temple. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. The Verse doesn’t lie”

You swallow hard. “You - this - you are messing with me”

“Am I?” Her lips curve into something wicked. “Or are you just embarrassed that this is what your subconscious really wants?”

You are hard. So hard that it hurts. Your cock is rigid and springing up to its full length. With the lack of clothes, you have no way to hide your arousal. But you shove it down, trying to focus. “Why bring me here? What’s the point?”

Karina hums, swinging her legs idly. “I told you - I’m giving you a gift. But power is best awakened when you are completely in sync with your own desires” She tilts her head, watching your reaction carefully. “And nothing lays a person bare quite like this”

You want to deny her, try to compose yourself. But the truth is - she’s absolutely right. She’s pushing all the right buttons, using every buried fantasy of yours to her advantage. You know what’s coming next is inevitable, even with your lust hazed brain.

Karina slides off the desk with the grace of a predator, each step deliberate, heels clicking across the floor. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you find yourself rooted in place, unable to move.

She circles around you, like she’s sizing you up. Her fingers trail across your shoulder, down your arm, sending a shiver through your body. Her touch is light, teasing, but it feels like she’s peeling off layers you didn’t even know you had.

“You’re tense.” she whispers into your ear, her breath tickling your ear. Her hands rest on your shoulders, massaging gently, but there’s a weight to her touch that makes you weak. “You shouldn’t be”

You try to keep your breathing steady but it’s a losing battle. Her presence is overwhelming, seeping into your brain, clouding your thoughts.

“What are you doing?” you manage to ask, though your voice comes out shaky.

She chuckles softly, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I’m just showing you what you are capable of.” Her hands slide down your chest, pressing lightly, and you can feel your resolve wavering, crumbling under her touch. “You have so much potential, so much power. But it’s locked away because you’re afraid”

“I’m not-” you start, but she cuts you off, spinning you around to face her. Your eyes instinctively fall on her plentiful tits, which are now on full display from this new angle.

“Eyes up here, honey,” she cups your face, forcing you to meet her eyes. “You’re afraid of the power inside you. Afraid of what you could become. Afraid of losing control” Her thumbs brush over your cheek, her touch light yet commanding. “But power is only dangerous if you don’t understand it”

Everything she’s telling you could be a lie. But you no longer care. Because all you crave now is more of this, more of her touch, her breath, her warmth. Her hand slides down , resting against your chest, and you feel your heart pounding beneath her fingertips.

“What do you want, really?” she asks, her voice a soft purr. “To be free of this? To understand it? Or maybe…” Her lips curve into a knowing smile. “To embrace it?”

Your mind is spinning, her words digging deep, unraveling desires you didn’t know were there. She rests a hand on your thigh, tracing idle patterns on your skin. Yet, her eyes never leave you, holding you captive.

“Stop fighting it,” she breathes, her voice a soft command. “Let go”

You feel the last shed of your resistance crumbles to dust. It’s intoxicating, the way she breaks down your walls, knocking them over like mere toys. And you finally relent, letting go of the fear, the doubt.

“Good boy” she praises.

And that’s when she crushes your lips with hers.

It’s not love. Far from it. It’s not affection either. But it’s equally addicting, something you want more the moment you have its taste, like an oasis in the desert. And Karina doesn’t keep you thirsty. She keeps on kissing you, letting you busk in the feeling of her silky lips, moist and soft each time they make contact with yours. Her tongue slips out to seek yours and you happily let yourself be found, intertwining it with yours, tasting her.

Her hand on your thigh isn't still either, slithering its way upwards until it finally reaches the hardness between your legs, gripping the base. You let out a moan against her lips, as her grip tightens. She can feel you throbbing. You are sure of it. She can feel how desperately you need her.

She gives you a single stroke, her fist around your length pumping a single time. And that’s enough to set you off.

Your veins flood with power. Your whole body is enveloped in gold. The upside down pentagon on your pelvis glows brighter than ever. And your cock, looks like it can destroy armies (literally).

Karina pulls back, though your lips still connect with a string of saliva. The scene turns you on so much that if it’s not been the mark, you feel like your cock would go numb from throbbing.

“And we are back,” she muses, studying your cock like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Look at this beautiful thing”

“You are not affected by the mark?” you ask, surprised. Persephone and Artemis have become slaves to the mark’s power as soon as it activates. But Aphrodite doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, she looks mesmerized.

“The mark only punishes those who try to fight it” she says, now stroking your shaft in an agonizingly slow pace. “I embrace it”

She’s still admiring your cock with sparkling eyes. You are used to people cowering before the mark with fear or sometimes even disgust that someone worshipping it is such a strange sight. On the other hand, perhaps, you are content that someone finally acknowledges its power instead of treating it like a curse.

“Only a fool would reject something this…divine,” she mutters dreamily, her digits tightening around your shaft. “This hard. This….big”

She places a single kiss on your tip and you swear you can see stars. You can feel her breath on your skin, the phantom warmth that precedes what comes next.

“May I suck your cock, sir?” she asks, voice dripping with feigned innocence.

She’s fueling your fantasy. If the settings and the outfit aren’t enough, she has decided to roleplay too. A roleplay that’s too accurate to be a roleplay.

“You may,” you reply. You don’t know if you are in the position to give orders, but if she’s really getting into this slutty schoolgirl act, you decide you’d better too. Afterall, it takes two to tango.

“Thanks, sir” And with that, her lips part around your tip, swallowing you inch by inch until half of your shaft has disappeared into her wet warmth. Her tongue swipes at your slit and the moans spill from you before you can control yourself.

Karina pulls back, a glint of something like victory in her eyes. “You need me that bad, sir? Need that big cock in my pretty mouth?”

You can’t voice an answer. Your brain is too jumbled to string coherent words. So you give her a single nod.

“I thought so,” she says as if it isn’t obvious before she welcomes your shaft back into her mouth again.

You throw your head back in mind-numbing pleasure. Everything feels so….surreal. Her lips gliding along your veiny shaft, her tongue that darts out so often to taste your leaking slit, the loud slurping sounds she’s probably making intentionally to rile you up.

It's a mess. It’s filthy. It’s everything you want.

The goddess of love herself is blowing your shaft. Or rather, Karina, the dream woman of million fans, herself has your cock in her mouth. You doubt both are luxuries that just anyone gets to experience.

Maybe Karina is just doing this for her benefit. It would be downright idiotic to think that a goddess would blow your cock for free. But right now, your mind is blank, focused on the single blissful feeling of Karina’s mouth working your length.

A loud gurgle escapes her lips when she swallows your whole shaft, nose pressed against your pelvis. The sudden, constricting warmth of her throat is unexpected. But when a goddess deepthroats you, you don’t complain.

She locks her gaze with yours as she holds your cock captive in her throat. Seconds pass but she shows no sign of backing out, still as determined as ever to keep you trapped in her tight warmth.

As for you, each second passed is another step to utopia, wishing this euphoric feeling never ends. Let her keep your cock warm forever.

But your hope quickly crumbles when she finally releases your cock, leaving it drenched in her drool. A waterfall of saliva stains her blouse, rendering it transparent to the point you can see the slightest hint of her rosy nipples.

“Oh, look like I’ve made a mess,” she says casually, like getting drool on your clothes is a normal occurrence. “I’d better clean up, hmm?”

You don’t understand what she’s talking about until she starts unbuttoning her shirt. Each loose button reveals more of her milky, round globes, peaking around the white fabric. She gets the job done quickly but it’s not like there’s much button left to begin with. Soon, her blouse lays a crumple heap on the floor.

“Like what you see?” she asks, like that’s even a question.

You are mesmerized. You can die happily now, you think. She may not be the real Karina but she’s still….well, Karina. And a full view of her glorious tits, which have their own fandom, is a privilege.

“Yeah…..” your voice comes out a shallow whisper, unable to think of anything except tits, tits and tits.

“Thought so,” she says, standing up and for a moment, you have a horrible thought that she’s gonna leave you like this - wanton and desperate. It’s exactly the kind of thing Aphrodite would do.

Luckily, she’s not feeling cruel today because she gets right back into her schoolgirl persona. “Say, sir. What do you think about stretching me out with that big cock?”

“You don’t even need to ask”

At your reply, Karina settles on your lap, facing you as she slowly guides your throbbing shaft inside her short skirt, her hands coming to rest on the nape of your neck. You watch your cock disappear into her red clothing, until you feel a wetness connect with your tip.

“Fill me up” And just like that, she sinks herself onto your shaft. You both let out a moan in unison. Her, from being utterly stretched out and you, from the way her walls squeeze your length.

Neither of you move for a second, adapting to this new position of depravity. But it doesn’t last long as Karina starts to roll her hips slowly. Your hands instinctively rest on her waist, guiding her movements.

“Fuck, you are so big. Even bigger than Ares…” she groans. You have no idea who she’s talking about but hey, a compliment’s still a compliment.

“Come on. You want those tits, don’t you?” she urges, pushing those busty globes into your face. And you gladly oblige, latching your lips onto one of her stiff nipples.

“Mhmm fuck” she groans as you swipe your tongue at her rosy bud before moving on to the other and doing the same thing. You decide not to be too greedy for now, devoting yourself to tasting one of her milkers, sucking and licking.

She writhes and trembles at the attention you are giving her tits, but her hip action doesn’t waver. She’s still riding you steadily, letting you enjoy her goddess pussy each time your shaft splits it open.

“God, your cock feels so good. So fucking big. Nghh…” She starts to pick up the pace, literally bouncing on your cock now as you turn your attention towards her unattended nipple, enjoying it the same way you did to its predecessor.

This double pleasure, that comes from both her tits and her pussy, can’t be described with words. It’s something beyond human comprehension that you doubt any other mortal could have gone through this and survive.

Her walls squeeze you just right, as if it has memorized every vulnerable spot, tackling with a precision that leaves your mind swimming.

Each time her ass crashes down onto your cock, she lets out a guttural moan. Her huge tits are jiggling so much now that it’s now impossible to put your mouth anywhere near. So you stop trying and enjoy the view.

You feel your body tingling with power, like a nuclear reactor on the verge of exploding. The glow on your pelvis grows brighter until it bathes the classroom in gold. Nevertheless, Karina is relentless - fucking herself on your throbbing cock like a bitch in heat. Who knows goddesses can be so beautiful yet so filthy?

But even the chosen one has his limits as you feel yourself spiralling to the inevitable end of this insatiable lust. The faint tingly feeling on your cock grows stronger until it’s overwhelming and soon, you unravel.

For a moment, all you can see is white as you unload spurt after spurt of your vile seed into Karina. It just keeps coming, everything stored in your balls, spilling into Karina’s cunt as she shudders from her own release. A few grunts follow as Karina rides you until she’s sure she has squeezed out the last drop of your load.

It takes a while to gather your thoughts.

When your senses finally return, Karina has returned to her earlier position on the desk, with the same cross-legged posture. The only difference being her tits out on display and the steady droplets of your cum dripping from under her skirt.

“Well,” she begins, not a hint of exhaustion in her voice, though sweat beads her temple and her hair has become a crumpled mess. “There’s your gift”

You blink. Karina has promised you a new ability but you don’t feel any different.

Then you realize.

You don’t feel any different.

Usually, extreme exhaustion, like you have run a marathon, follows after the mark’s power subsides. But this time, you don’t feel any of the fatigue, the weariness. Then you look down and find the answer.

The mark is still there. It has not disappeared like before. It’s not alight with power but it still glows a faint gold. Does it mean you can control it now?

“The mark….” you mutter.

“Indeed, the mark,” Karina agrees, amused at your realization. “Pretty handy, isn’t it? You don’t need to keep passing out every time you use it”

She is, no doubt, correct. Not only that you haven’t passed out but a fresh surge of energy has started travelling through your body. Your breath catches in your throat as another wave of arousal overwhelms you, and your cock springs up instantly from its limp form.

Karina smirks at the sight. “Easy there, tiger. Or we might stay in this verse forever”

This power. It’s pure and absolute. There’s no more doubt. No more fear. You have embraced what you are.

You are not a god. No. You are something far better. Something a thousand times more perfect. In no time, those who call themselves the divines will cower at your feet. In fact, they already are.

You are snapped out of your triumphant thoughts by the rattling sound of the desk as Karina slides down. She approaches you in slow and measured steps, like you are a bomb which can go off anytime.

“I’m sure we will meet again, Michael,” Karina says, inches away from you now. “For now, farewell”

Once again, she presses two fingers to your forehead.

And you spiral into an endless void.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

As abruptly as it has started, you find yourself back in your room at Eros’s place. The dim glow of city light filters through the rain-streaked windows, casting shifting patterns on the walls. Outside, New York sprawls endlessly, neon signs flickering, car horns blaring faintly in the distance. The scenery has shifted again.

The storm hasn’t let up either. Rain drums steadily against the glass, its rhythm oddly soothing. You half expect to feel the ache and exhaustion after you have landed face first on the floor but instead, your body hums with a quiet, unfamiliar energy.

You feel better than you have been in days. Better than you should.

Pushing yourself up from the bed, you flex your fingers, testing the sensation. No soreness, no aches. If anything, you feel sharper, like a blade freshly honed.

Suddenly, a chime pulls you from your thoughts.

You glance to the nightstand, where your phone screen glows softly in the dim room. A single notification sits at the top: a dark heart icon from the app you are too familiar with - the Ero app.

New ability acquired.

You snort, but the amusement fades the second you swipe open the screen and catch sight of the new wallpaper.

A bright, obnoxious Hello Kitty background stares back at you.

You sigh “Eros, you motherfuck-”

Shaking your head, you open the app - the same one that dragged you into this whole mess - and freeze.

It’s different.

Before, the Ero app was nothing more than a sleek, minimalistic portal. No menus, no settings - except for some occasional forewords about your quests. But now, the interface has shifted.

At the center of the screen is you. Or at least, a stylized version of you, shirtless, standing with an aura of gold swirling around you. Below it, your Profile is displayed, listing your Abilities in neat, glowing text.

Lust Epidemic. That must be the one which got the hunters acting like bitches in heat.

Domination. You are puzzled for a moment, then remember the mark you have imprinted upon Chaewon, turning her into your obedient slave.

And last but not least.

Endless Ardor. The one Aphrodite has granted.

And then, farther down-

You narrow your eyes.

A section labeled “Goddesses Conquered”.

The figures of Shuhua(Persephone), Chaewon(Artemis) and Karina(Aphrodite) are there, fitted in borders of golden hue. But the rest? Locked Silhouettes, dark and shadowed, their names blurred.

This looks like something out of an rpg game except that everything is real.

At the bottom, something else catches your eyes. A meter labeled Perfection.

It’s at 10%.

You stare at it, a strange unease creeping in. Perfection? What is that supposed to mean? And why does it feel like the app is tracking something you don’t fully understand yet?

Before you can think further, the door swings open.

Eros strides in, smelling like he has drowned in every perfume known to man, dressed in fresh clothes - ripped jeans and a loose button-down that hangs open just enough to be obnoxious. He grins like he owns the place. Which, considering this is his place, might not be far from the truth.

“Morning sunshine,” he drawls. “I come bearing a gift?”

You raise an eyebrow. “A gift?”

Eros steps aside and the angel enters.

Kazuha walks in, looking clean and refreshed. The wounds on her body are nowhere to be seen. She’s dressed like some kind of agent - fitted tank top, dark jeans, combat boots. Though you have to admit she looks insanely hot, that’s not what catches your attention. It’s what she’s holding.

A leash.

Connected to a collar.

Wrapped around Chaewon’s neck.

You are speechless. The once proud goddess of the hunt, stands on all fours, no different from a dog. There’s not a piece of clothing on her except for the collar around her neck. She stares at you with curiosity, but the fire in her eyes is gone, replaced by utter and complete obedience. Somehow, you get a feeling she’s awaiting an order.

Your order.

Eros chuckles, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Congratulations, buddy. You have officially tamed a goddess”

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

This one takes quite a while because I have been procrastinating. Thankfully, I get into the mood for some mythological action again. Enjoy.

[kianamaiart]

Just asking but say this pilot blows up and it's amazeballs (don't criticize me for saying that we're on Tumblr of all places), like we know it'll be. What would it actually take to make IDWTBAMG a full on green it series? Would you have to go through Disney or would you try to source it to something like Glitch and how could we help in making the show a reality?

That's a great question, I don't really know!

A lot of it would be on me to take the time to actually go out and make the effort to pitch around. Though if the pilot does REALLY well then there would likely be more interest and also gives me legs to stand on when pitching. It will serve as a nice proof of concept! Studios are really big on existing IP and built in audiences currently. I was told by an industry veteran and one of my showrunners that I'd have a decent chance pitching original IP because "I myself would be the the existing IP and I have the built in audience already".

That itself isn't enough obviously, the product also has to be good but I do think that I have something fun here. So honestly, the best thing as the audience that you can do to help is just spreading the word, supporting the pilot when it comes out and showing interest in the other art/comics I've been doing with the characters (which most of you are very much already doing, thank you ;0;)

I will say I do have a couple leads and have some studio interest but I also wanna make sure that if I make this, it goes somewhere where it's a good fit. And then also just wanna get the pilot first just to gauge interest. One step at a time!

[covenofagatha]

Practice makes perfect

Agatha makes you build up your stamina until she actually lets you fuck her

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: g!p reader, virgin!reader, sex, age gap, fleshlight, degradation, humiliation kink, Agatha is MEAN and reader very much gets off on it, premature ejaculation, masturbation, reader is a walking HR violation, cumming in pants

When Agatha Harkness finds out you’re a virgin, she actually laughs. 

You’re a junior in college interning at your dad’s multi-billion dollar company over the summer, a nepo-baby at its finest, and so what if you have the hots for the general counsel? So what if you get hard every single time she even looks in your direction? 

You try to flirt with her, you’re as bold as you can be without her going straight to HR, and yet she barely even gives you the time of day. Deep down, you can tell she likes you though. She humors you and doesn’t tell you to shut up whenever you start to talk, so that must mean something. The two of you have formed quite the relationship since the summer started, with you saying the filthiest things to her and her brushing them off as if they were casual anecdotes. 

“I’d make you feel so good, Agatha,” you tell her one day. “I’ll fill you up so nicely.”

It might be pushing the limits — it’s your third pathetic attempt this day at getting her to reciprocate, but she’s used to it by now; it hardly even fazes her. Everyone in the office knows that their boss’s daughter has a cock, and they also know that their boss’s daughter has a filthy mouth, always saying something vulgar and sarcastic. No one takes anything that comes from your lips as serious. You’ve been called a spoiled, entitled, rich bitch, told that you’re heartless for not giving a damn about anything, expelled from three high schools for the explicit jokes that you make.

But your “jokes” to Agatha are the only thing you’re serious about. 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes; at twenty-five years your senior, she has had plenty of experience with girls that promise her the world and barely deliver on any said promises made. “I’m not some quick college lay that lets you rub my upper thigh and pretends that you’ve found my clit, you know.” 

It’s your turn to scowl. “Who do you think I am?” you ask and she fixes you with a pointed glare from behind her desk. “I know where the clit is.” 

“How many women have you actually satisfied?” she asks and your cheeks heat up. You figured it would come up eventually, but now you don’t actually want to answer. You duck your head and Agatha makes a noise, not exactly surprised, but almost disappointed. “You think I’m going to let a virgin fuck me? You probably wouldn’t even last two seconds inside me.”

“Hey, I’d last longer than that,” you snap, your head shooting back up to look at her incredulously. You can feel a slight stirring in your lower stomach at the thought of blowing your load the instant she gets inside you and how she would most definitely mock you for it. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow and chuckles cruelly. “Honey, please. Go back to your desk and get your work done. I’m definitely not having sex with someone who can’t finish reading over a simple contract.” 

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, and she makes a face at you before you get up out of the chair in front of her desk you were lounging in. “Might have to go to the bathroom real quick and jerk one off though.” 

She crinkles her nose and waves her hand at you dismissively and you think that you’ve just blown all your chances with her. She��s definitely not going to want to fuck you now. There is some speculation floating around about your lack of experience and that’s why you overcompensate with the explicit things you say — libel you tell them, but deep down it’s accurate — and if Agatha, who has certainly had her fair share of partners, knows it’s real, then she for sure won’t waste her time with you. 

So you go back to your desk and begrudgingly get all your work done, emailing Agatha your thoughts about the contracts when you’re all done. She sends back a Very good job, y/n and you hate to admit that it gets you hard. You’d like nothing more than to go fuck yourself in the restroom but you stay at your cubicle until Agatha walks by so you can see her before she leaves for the day. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you call after her as she breezes by your desk without saying a word. It’s the last day of the third fiscal quarter today, and as a reward, tomorrow your dad is bringing his executive staff to your beach house in The Hamptons for a week. Because you’re part of the family, you get to attend, but none of the other interns do. 

It’s been this way since you were little, but only recently did you start to notice how attractive Agatha was. The way she takes absolutely no shit from anyone, even from your dad. The way she coolly holds her ground in the face of IRS audits, FBI raids, and anything else that got thrown at her. The way she raises an eyebrow at you when you say something stupid and it makes your cock hard in seconds. Everything about her drives you fucking wild. 

Agatha lifts a hand up in response, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at you, and your pants tighten almost uncomfortably. 

The second you get back to your apartment, you undo your belt and unzip your pants, reaching inside to take out your hard and leaking cock. Your hips thrust forward at the warmth from your hand and you gasp, the pleasure already dizzying. You think about Agatha on her knees in front of you, looking up at you through her glasses, telling you that you’re just a pathetic slut who will never be able to make her feel good. 

It takes three strokes of your hand before you grunt and your cock pumps out three long spurts of cum all over the kitchen counter. You grab a paper towel, dampen it, and then wipe up your mess before going to take a shower. 

You might have a serious problem. 

And it’s only going to get worse this week. An entire seven days where you’re going to be around her. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’re going to be hard for most of it. Is there a record for the most times a person has cum in a day? Because you think you might break it. 

That night, you have a dream about Agatha, as many of your dreams are. She’s sitting in a chair right by the bed, legs outstretched and open and her feet are resting on the duvet. You’re laying stomach-down, cock hard between your body and the covers, mouth watering. Agatha is completely naked, her cunt glistening, and the dream is so realistic that you can smell her. She laughs when you groan pitifully. 

Then she buries two fingers inside her and your hips lurch against the bed, gasping at the stimulation on your cock. 

“Look at you, humping the bed like a bitch in heat,” she snarls and your rhythm stutters. You garble out something incoherently and she laughs before rubbing her clit with her other hand. “Can’t even fuck me right, so I have to do it myself.” 

You moan loudly, grinding against the bed furiously, and she picks up her thrusts to match your face. “I can, please, I want to,” you beg before she cums all over her fingers. She pulls them out of her and then slides them into your mouth and you cum all over the bed and your stomach. 

When you jerk awake right after that, the first thing you notice is how sticky you are. You must have cum in your underwear from just your dream and it’s just further evidence of how completely fucked you are for the next week. 

There will certainly be no swimming for you because you don’t need the entire executive board and your father knowing that you’re getting hard for the forty-six year old general counsel. 

But fuck, Agatha in a swim suit — 

You cut yourself off from the thought because you don’t have enough time to get worked up again. 

Good thing too, because by the time you do get yourself all cleaned up from your little nighttime accident, you have to leave to get to the helicopters. 

There’s no sign of Agatha yet so you make awkward small talk with Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, because you have nothing better to do. She’s new and attractive, but no one gets your cock stirring like Agatha. You wonder if it’s the fact that she’s older and it taps into your mommy issues, or the fact that she can cut you down with a simple sentence and you’ve found that you have a huge thing for degradation, or the fact that she’s never going to let you touch her no matter how hard you beg. 

She drives you crazy and you fucking need her. 

Finally, Agatha pulls up in a company car and gets out, wearing a gray pantsuit, and you already feel your face heating up. She gets into one of the two helicopters without even looking at you and you make a beeline for it before your dad stops you and pulls you into the other one. You can’t exactly tell him that you want to be next to his general counsel, so you grumble to yourself before agreeing. 

It takes only about forty-five minutes to get to the house and the next hour is full of unpacking and the wait staff running around, trying to get everyone everything they need. 

Lunch is served and everyone gathers in the dining room except for Agatha, so you excuse yourself and try to go find her. 

You’re just “happening” to be walking by her room when she opens the door to step out, almost bumping into you. 

“Your quick solo session take a bit too long?” you ask crassly, delighting in the way her eyes roll exasperatedly. “Next time, give me a call and I’ll get you there quickly.”

She starts walking to the dining room, leaving you behind so you have to speed to catch up. “If I ever want someone to cum after three pumps inside me and leave me even more unsatisfied than I was before, I’ll make sure to let you know.”

“Hey, I’d lay you badly, but I’d lay you gladly,” you say as seductively as possible and she snorts. “Come on, you gotta admit you’ve at least thought about it.” 

Agatha spares you a glance. “When I’m trying not to cum. It’s a real turn-off for me personally.”

You also love how she gives as good as she gets. “Please?” you ask, whine, beg. “I’ll be so good for you — I’ll make you feel so good.”

She sniffs and rakes her eyes over your body, pausing at the outline of your cock through your pants. Before you even realize what’s happening, she’s pushed you against the wall and her hand cups your cock and you gasp while bucking into her touch. 

“Really?” Agatha chuckles. You make a muffled sound and try to grind up and she rubs her palm against you, making you throb. “You think you could make me feel good with your cock that’s already about to cum for me?” 

“Yes,” you choke out and she squeezes harder. You’re panting open-mouthed now, trying so hard to hold back from your release. 

She is completely unaffected as she leans in to whisper, “You’re so fucking pathetic,” into your ear and you whimper, your stomach twists, and your cock pulses before pumping loads of cum into your pants. You chant swears under your breath while you cling to her arms for dear life and she watches amusedly as a stain spreads on your pants. 

You’ve never been more of a mess in your life and she just smirks smugly before giving your cock a patronizing pat. 

“I’ll tell your dad you’ll be a little late to lunch.” And then she walks away, leaving you completely agape against the wall, cock still twitching in your pants. 

It’s hard to make eye contact with her the rest of the day without heat flushing through your cheeks and the memory of what she did to you making your cock stir. 

The second you can escape after dinner, you do. You fully intend on spending the rest of the night fucking yourself silly and trying to rid your brain of Agatha.

But around ten, there’s a knock on your door and you swing it open to find Agatha standing there in silk, navy pajamas and black glasses. Your jaw drops open and she brushes right past you to walk into your room and tosses something on the bed. 

A fleshlight. 

“What—” you start to say, but you can’t even finish your question because all the blood in your brain has rushed down to your cock in record time. 

Agatha turns to face you, hands on her hips, lips pursed. “Show me that you can last five minutes with it—” nods at the toy, “—and we’ll see about me letting your cock anywhere close to me.” 

Your breaths come out staggered and you stumble over to the bed, head spinning. There’s no way this is actually happening. You shove down your sweatpants and boxers and your cock bobs up, rigid and hard and leaking copious amounts of precum. 

“God, already?” she snorts and your cock twitches. “You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you?” 

A muffled whimper escapes your lips and you give yourself a quick stroke. “Fuck.” You reach for the fleshlight, heat completely overwhelming your body, but she stops you first. 

“Spit on yourself,” she orders and you watch her with wide and pleading eyes as a strand of saliva drops from your mouth onto your cock. You feel like you’re in a trance as you spread it out along your length, the wetness of your spit and precum coating your cock and making it glisten in no time. “Fucking pathetic.” 

Her jeers only make you harder and this time, she doesn’t object when you grab the toy. You think you can hear her sharply inhale when you drag your cock against the fake pussy lips and you already know there’s no fucking way you’re going to last one minute, let alone five. 

“Wanna fuck you like this,” you babble before pushing your tip in and instantly freezing at the silicone ridges squeezing around you. You sigh heavily before your breathing quickens and you’re practically panting by the time you get your entire cock inside the fleshlight. 

Agatha’s face is unreadable. “I’m impressed you made it in,” she says, coldly and completely dry, and it makes you thrust into it. It feels so good, even though it’s just a cold, plastic toy and you can only imagine how the real thing would feel. “Well, get on with it. Chop chop, honey. I haven’t got all night to watch your sorry attempt at proving you can fuck me.” 

You grunt and start moving your cock in and out of the toy, whines falling out of you, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on not cumming too soon. You want to last — you need to last for her, because she might actually let you touch her if you. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts and your cock throbs. “Open your eyes.” 

You obey, and the moment you see her, see the slight redness of her cheeks, you know you fucked up. 

With a loud grunt, you cum in the toy, filling it with so much of your seed that it spills out of the fake cunt and drips onto the floor as you continue snapping your hips up. 

Agatha laughs and walks straight to the door. “Not even thirty seconds. Maybe next time.” 

You are absolutely fucked. 

The next night, you’re almost to two minutes while desperately trying to think of anything else other than Agatha standing right there. She’s watching intently, like she’s studying your technique and critiquing it in her head, and you’re doing really well — you think you might actually have a chance to get to five. The secret is thinking about all the boring contracts you had to read this summer to keep your mind off the overwhelming pleasure you’re getting from the toy.

But then Agatha steps closer to you, runs a finger over your lips and down to cup your breast, and says, “God, you really are just a baby, aren’t you?” so sickly sweet. 

It makes you curse before filling the toy up again, your body completely betraying you. 

“That wasn’t fucking fair,” you try to argue. 

She sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Oh, honey,” she coos and it’s so fucking condescending. Your cock twitches inside the toy. “It’s not my fault you’re so pathetic you can’t control yourself.”

“Yes, it is,” you whine and she rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe you should cum before I get here so you might have a chance at lasting for five minutes,” she taunts and you’re too embarrassed to tell her that you already got off before she came tonight. Clearly it did not work. 

You figure that maybe you just need to cum more throughout the day to build up some stamina. You fuck yourself with the fleshlight in the morning after you wake up with morning wood because surprise, surprise: you had another dream about Agatha. When she takes a sip of her orange juice at breakfast, eyes flicking up to meet yours as she sucks on the straw, you have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and it only takes you about six strokes before you’re cumming all over your hand. It’s a long day of lounging around the pool and hushed conversations, and the moment Agatha steps out onto the desk in a sensible one-piece, you have to wrap a towel around your waist so no one sees your erection through your swim trunks to run back to your room, hastily saying that you forgot sunscreen. You cum into the fleshlight in about three minutes. 

And about thirty minutes before she shows up to your room at 10 pm on the dot, you have another quick session with your hand. 

You are absolutely determined tonight. 

When she strolls in through the door, the air is different. She’s carrying a glass of Scotch and you snatch it as she walks past you, downing the rest in one sip. 

“Are you even old enough to drink?” she asks, eyebrow raised and giving you a once over. 

You laugh sarcastically before setting the cup down on the nightstand and tearing your shirt off over your head, not missing the way her gaze flicks down to your nipples. Usually, you just take your boxers off, but tonight, you want her to see all of you. 

“A little arrogant, hm?” 

Nodding your head, you spit onto your cock and stroke it to full hardness. This is also the first time you haven’t had a raging erection the second she arrived. Before she can say anything, you’ve grabbed the fleshlight and started thrusting your cock into it. It feels good, but you’ve become so desensitized to it, just from today, that you’re feeling more confident than ever. 

Agatha realizes this, sees it on your face. “Wow, look at my slut,” she croones. “She finally learned how to fuck herself. Doesn’t mean you can fuck someone else though. I bet the moment you get inside me, you’ll cum because you’re too fucking pathetic to actually make me feel good.” 

The degradation goes straight to your cock and you grunt, pausing for a second before resuming. The smirk on her face is as frustrating as it is hot and only makes it harder to think clearly. 

“You’re just a worthless little whore, aren’t you?” she snarls and your breaths become shallow and your thrusts become more like quick ruts into the toy. 

“Yes, fuck,” you moan quietly, tightly, and god she’s not playing fair at all. The toy is squeezing you so hard and it’s becoming tougher to keep fucking it, but the prize of getting to be inside Agatha is so close if you can just hang on. 

She scoffs sharply but you can see the heat on her face. Fuck. She likes this. “How are you not absolutely humiliated by yourself and how desperate you are?” she says, getting meaner, and precum is leaking out of the toy each time you drive your cock back into the toy. If you weren’t actively using all of your effort to keep from cumming, you think you would’ve filled up the fleshlight at least three times by now. Agatha is trying so hard to break you, but you refuse. 

The most excruciating five minutes of your life finally end, and you are so fucking triumphant. “We had a deal,” you remind her hoarsely. 

“Stop acting like lasting five minutes is an accomplishment,” she scorns and you have to pull the toy off your aching erection or you actually might cum. Your cock bobs up and down, trails of precum dripping onto the floor and down your length. You’ve made such a mess. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and your heart stops. 

You lay on the duvet, resting your back against the pillows, and watch with bated breath as Agatha slowly unbuttons her pajama shirt. You whine when you can see her tits, round and perky, and you need to get her rosy nipples in your mouth immediately. She takes off her shorts and you can’t help but hump the air, your cock engorged and neglected. 

“Please,” you sob. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She mockingly coos and then climbs onto the bed with her underwear still on, straddles your hips, and she slowly grinds against your cock. A loud, high-pitched keen tears itself out of your mouth and you buck up into her, but she tsks and hovers above you. “Patience, pet,” she says and there are literal tears in your eyes from how hard you are. 

Agatha reaches down and pulls her panties to the side and rubs her clit for a moment. 

“Can I—”

“—touch me? No. There’s no way you’d make it inside me then,” she sneers and you hate to admit that she’s right. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your cock jumping when she slides two fingers in herself. Your head is spinning, completely drunk with need for her. 

She takes pity on you and grabs your cock, angling it at her entrance. “It’s okay, honey. You’re just a little baby. My little, pathetic, desperate baby.” 

And then she slides down on your cock in one slick motion and your hands scramble to dig into the bedsheets and a loud, strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and you cum instantly, the feeling of her warm, wet walls around you too much to bear. 

To her credit, she doesn’t laugh as you rut into her frantically. She just waits for you to finally calm down before squeezing her cunt around you. It makes you gasp. “I knew you couldn’t last,” she says, slowly starting to bounce up and down your cock. 

“Too sensitive,” you whine and she clucks her tongue. 

“Well, you promised that you were going to fuck me, didn’t you?” 

Your cock has softened inside her, your cum starting to leak out of her pussy, and she collects it with her fingers and starts to rub her clit. Her walls spasm around you and you twitch. You nod your head and bite your lip — she is everything you’ve ever wanted. 

It takes a few minutes of Agatha clenching around you to bring you back to full hardness, a speedy recovery even by your standards, and she starts to ride you for real. 

“Good thing you’re the poster child for instant gratification,” she grunts, lifting herself up and then back down. There’s such a mess between the two of you that there’s squelching sounds each time she moves on you. You’re practically frozen beneath her and all you can do is watch as she fucks herself on you. “Just need to make you cum before actually being able to use you. I’ll train you so well, make you nothing into more than a cock for me to fuck.” 

You finally regain the ability to think and start desperately thrusting up into her, needing more than anything to make her moan, to make her cum. She’s riding you faster and harder and her chest is becoming flushed and you think she might actually be getting somewhere. 

But she squeezes around you again and fucking groans and you never stood a chance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck — Agatha, I’m gonna — fuck!” you cry and erupt inside her again, painting her walls white once again. You’re not even sure if you made it five minutes inside her. 

Agatha slows down on top of you and you wince at the overstimulation of her still wrapped around you. 

“Did you?” It’s a stupid question, one you already know the answer to, but you’re hoping that maybe you got it wrong. 

Her laugh tells you that you did not and she slides off you, your cock flopping against your stomach in a sticky puddle, and she grabs the edge of the blanket on your bed to wipe the globs of cum oozing out of her. Fuck. You’ll never be able to use that blanket without getting hard again and you know that you’ll be fucking the fabric every single day for the rest of your life. 

She flops down next to you and you wonder if it would be foolish to ask her to stay. “It’s not that easy to make me cum, pet. But don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[sometimesanalice]

Oh I adore getting your reblogs! It's always so fun getting to read someone's thoughts about things! But I'm also so happy that you enjoyed this one!

more for you!

Many thoughts...

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

I can 100% see that-- that man never stood a chance! he likes to play the game, especially when the girl he's interested in is leading the way 🤭

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

Yeah, let's show it off 😌-- he's such a slut (affectionate)! but if you ask him he'd just say he's a feminist and doing it for the female gaze, lmao

 He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

A man on a mission-- my favorite little attention whore

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

Lmao that would be funny though 😅-- maybe next time, lmaooo. but also he knows what he's bringing to the able and backs himself all the way, he's not afraid of a little competition (not that there is any, haha)

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

Oh, we all know 😅-- the cockwalk alone deserved an oscar

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.” “Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?” “Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.” “You mean Bagman?” “Yeah, that sounds right.”

A woman teasing Jake? Bradley is probably thinking about proposing right then and there😅-- the easiest way to win over bradley bradshaw is to dunk on jake at any given opportunity, lol

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.” You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 

😌🤭😌🤭-- she's got him soooo wrapped around her finger, and good for her it's what she deserves!

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type. Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Definitely not his fault 🤷🏻‍♀️😅-- he's innocent your honor!

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?” His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it. “I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

His hat has probably been worn by multiple women before 🤭-- that hat has definitely seen some action that's for sure, lmao. and who he is who deny anyone who wants to try it on for size 🤭

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

That's so cute 😍-- he doesn't often get to share this side of things so indepthly with anyone, he's definitely not missing his moment here!

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear. “Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue. He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

There always has to be a first time 😌-- the man likes to live on the edge! the adrenaline rush of it all! plus everyone else is busy, and it is called the ready room after all haha

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.” “Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat. “I’m trying to,” you whine.

Oh I bet he does 🤭🤤-- we all know that man doesn't half ass anything and we thank him for his service!

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

🤭🤭🤭-- she's definitely made a lasting impression on him!

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Ahhhh omg-- i love a good twist!! and this one is one of my favorites!! 🤭🤭🤭

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week. He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating. Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

Love that they both met each other's partners on the same night out 😅-- i ended up writing about the night they met! if you ever want to read it it's called "wildest dreams"! it's another cheeky and fun one, but I loved getting to explore just what happened the night they met!

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you. “It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

Oh he is so in love🥰-- he's so down bad!

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

^^ the most perfect gif in existence, lmao. they're both go getters ahahahaha

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 

Facts 🤷🏻‍♀️-- i wouldn't mind getting a return on my taxes this way, just saying... lol

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

Wear that SPF!!-- my fav hc is that he's always getting sunburnt because he just doesn't have the patience to put it on.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 

Ahh I loved all of this so much 🥰-- i'm so happy you liked it!! thank you for reading!!

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Keep reading

[crushmeeren]

༝ ᭝ ༝ ARRANGED MARRIAGE AU — PART TWO ༝ ᭝ ༝

⤷ ⋆ ft. itachi uchiha ⋆

⋆ note ; here is part two! this part is centered around the first time reader has sex with itachi (it’s mediocre, but 100% consensual) — which you can totally skip, a fluffy moment or two between pregnant reader and itachi, some reader and sasuke friendship, plus itachi’s perspective and an important convo with shisui!

⋆ note x 2 ; as always, credit for this idea goes to @majesticflyingwalrus !

‣ ‣ ‣ master list ‣ ‣ ‣ PART ONE

Is sex supposed to be this dull?

Surely not.

Within your clan’s compound you recall sex often being spoken highly of. Giggles and hushed whispers surrounding a forbidden pleasure chased after by so many of the young men and woman living there. Even the ones you’d considered close friends.

It seems your hopes had been aimed too high. Or perhaps that’s too pessimistic. Maybe sex will improve, this is, after all, only the first time you’ve given yourself to Itachi.

Little foreplay was involved as you stripped bare and laid down on the bed. A few brief kisses in the beginning, Itachi’s mouth tasting of the matcha tea he’d drank before. Lips pressed along the line of your throat once or twice, coaxing your lower belly to burn, but it hadn’t progressed much past that. Itachi stroked himself to full hardness before you could get your hand on his cock, assuring you he preferred to do it.

That stung.

In the present, cool cotton sheets bunch up in your curled fingers, thighs spread open wide by Itachi’s palms. The push and pull of his cock stretches your pussy better than your fingers ever could, prickles of pleasure gathering in your pelvis, tickling the base of your spine.

But the atmosphere holds an awkward edge to it. Besides the occasional flickers of heat, the tension is all consuming.

Itachi downright refuses to look you in the eyes. Each time you lift your chin to peak at his face his gaze darts to the side, biting the tip of his tongue in what appears to be concentration. Or discomfort.

It’s hard to read your husband.

There’s no sweet words directed your way. No real passion in the way Itachi moves, thrusts remaining at a steady pace the entire time, somewhat robotic.

You give up trying to catch his eye, redirecting your attention to his stomach. The lean muscles flex and roll under the strain of his hips. It’s surprising how erotic the view is, catching you off guard, and hot desire forces your pussy to clench tight around Itachi. His breath hitches and a low moan spills out. You look up in time to watch his mouth part and a pink tongue dart out to lick across his upper lip.

“Itachi,” you breathe, his pleasure spurring on your own. You lock eyes and his lids are halfway shut, brows pinching together.

His pace slows. “Is everything alright? Have I hurt you?” His voice is rougher than usual.

“No.” You shake your head. “I just..” you trail off, unsure whether to spill your guts about how hot he sounded a moment ago. You opt to keep silent, refusing to make him uncomfortable with your desire. With the tension he’s been carrying since the start, it’s obvious he wants this to be over with as quick as possible. “It’s nothing, keep going.”

He doesn’t thrust any faster, considering your words. “Are you being honest with me?”

The question surprises you. “I’m being honest. Please Itachi, I don’t want you to stop.”

Itachi continues to see straight through you, like you’re made of glass.

“Okay,” he relents, tone conveying how little he believes you. “I’ll be swift, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable any longer.” It feels like an apology as one of his hands comes up to cradle the side of your face. You push into the touch, eager for a shred of his affection.

His palm is warm, and the lump in your throat is difficult to swallow, eyes squeezed shut in the face of his words. You’re the furthest thing from uncomfortable. You’re happy to get the chance to connect with him so intimately. His dick is incredible, and you wish he’d explore more with you to find what made you both dizzy with lust.

But he doesn’t want that.

Itachi is a gentleman through and through. After it’s over, he stays behind to help you relax. He brings back a warm wash cloth and draws you a bath, aware that you’d be sore after having sex for the first time. He guides you by the hand, allowing you to use him as leverage to step into the bath and sink into the water.

“I put some of my salts in the bath. It helps with soreness,” he explains, fingers untangling from yours as you find a comfortable position and sigh in relief.

You stare up at him, a grateful smile on your face. “Thank you, Itachi.” You chew on your bottom lip, heart skipping a beat as you consider your next question. “Would you care to join me?”

Itachi’s answering smile is so sweet it’s unfair, eyes soft and longing. “Perhaps another time, I’ve got some business to attend to.”

You choose to focus on the water, fingertips breaking the surface and diving below. You don’t want him to see your disappointment. “I understand. Another time, then.”

Itachi lingers but you refuse to look at him. His apologetic demeanor will just make it worse. He leaves things unsaid between you, and the pit in your stomach threatens to weigh you down until you’re dragged below the surface.

Things…change after you find out you’re pregnant. Not for worse, for the better, and it surprises the hell out of you. Itachi, who you assumed would keep his lukewarm attitude, becomes more intertwined in your life. Carrying out small gestures to show he cares and pays attention to your needs.

During the second trimester is when the worst of your cravings hit.

The little Uchiha baby in your belly is now the size of an avocado, the obvious bump making it known you’re carrying Itachi’s heir. She’s growing bigger by the day and you’re sure it’s her fault your sweet tooth is aching, begging for sugary treats.

Well, to be fair, you’re unable to prove she’s a she at this point, as Itachi has pointed out several times, but intuition promises otherwise.

Either way, full fledged dreams of warm, chewy chocolate chip cookies have plagued you all week. It’s driving you up the wall, and today not a single thing will get in the way of baking the perfect batch.

You’d ruined them the previous couple times, flour scattered all over the counters as if a tornado swept through. First, it was the wrong type of butter, then you set the timer wrong and they were a bit overbaked. Simple mistakes, but they change the entire outcome of the cookie. Itachi found you after the second time standing at the island, tears falling all over the ruined sweets.

Third times the charm, though.

The sound of soft slippers meeting hard wood fills the otherwise empty hallway, your palm lifting to rest at the top of your belly. Your hand follows the curve of it, ending at the underside as you journey slowly towards the kitchen.

Rounding the last corner, stepping into the kitchen with intention, you halt mid step when you notice you’re not alone. The outline of Itachi’s back greets you, long hair tied into a braid, flowing like a waterfall down to his waist. He’s standing at the counter fiddling with something you’re unable to see.

“So, you’ve escaped clan business for the afternoon?”

“Oh!” Itachi startles, jumping about a foot in the air. He whips around to face you, a mixing bowl cradled tight to his chest with one arm. “Goodness, you scared me!” Itachi places his free hand over his chest, settling his racing heart. “Yes, I’ve managed to excuse myself for the rest of the day,” he answers, glaring half heartedly.

You take a few steps closer, lips lifting in amusement. “That’s great, but what brings you to the kitchen?” You nod towards the mixing bowl in question. “It’s not often I find you here.”

His eyes flicker between you and the bowl. “I thought I’d attempt to bake cookies,” he explains, somewhat sheepish. “For you.”

Your eyebrows raise, cheeks heating up. “For me?”

Itachi nods, shifting to set the mixing bowl on the counter. “For you. For our baby,” he confirms. His expression is warm and words stick to the inside of your throat. “After the last time I’m convinced you���re in desperate need of my help.”

You ignore the insult to your baking skills, becoming a whirlwind of emotions as your eyes sting with oncoming tears. “Itachi!” You cry, surging forward to wind your arms around his waist, baby bump keeping you from fully connecting. “That’s so sweet!”

Your husband chuckles and hugs you in return, rubbing your upper back as he does. “I’m happy to do this for you. You’re growing our baby, you deserve to be waited on hand and foot.”

Itachi’s words continue to be confusing. They’re so sincere, so meaningful, and sometimes you convince yourself they’re could be more than friendship in your marriage. The threat of rejection, however, of crumbling your new life, squeezes your heart, and you stay silent instead of asking for more.

A moment passes before Itachi unravels from the hug, holding your shoulders and pushing you backwards, promising this time the cookies will be perfect.

And they are.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Fall has arrived in full force. With it comes gloomy skies, shorter days, and a sharp chill that bites at your cheeks and fingertips. Your hesitation to go on daily walks grows more powerful by the hour. Being six months pregnant takes it’s toll on your lower back and feet. The cold makes it a hundred times worse.

Sasuke’s been too busy to join you as of late. Itachi may be head of the clan but Sasuke is still saddled with his fair share of duties. So you’ve been going alone. The scenery is still beautiful, leaves coloring to burnt oranges and rustic reds — it’s just much more boring without your friend’s occasional commentary and snide remarks. Or the gossip he fills you in on.

Dusk is approaching within the next hour or so, and you’ve resigned yourself to the fact it’s better overall for your health and the baby’s if you don’t skip out on walking.

One more layer should suffice to fight off the chill, so you slip on an extra long sleeve underneath, finishing the outfit by zipping up a thick fluffy coat and adjusting a scarf around your neck.

The door slides shut behind you, feet guiding you in the direction of the well worn path you wander each day. Shivering, you stuff your hands in your pockets, taking only a handful of steps before a familiar voice calls out your name. Your head perks up, twisting left to see Itachi striding your way. His hair is windswept, a few strands whipping in front of his face, cheeks rosy from the cold.

He looks oh so handsome.

“Where are you off to?” Itachi asks when he gets close. The sweet smile he wears gives you the sensation that the clouds have parted and warm sun now shines on your face.

“I was just about to go for my walk.”

He hums, unable to hide the slight bitterness to his tone when he asks, “Without Sasuke?”

You laugh, amused, and nod. “Yes, he’s quite busy today.”

“I see.” He pauses. “Well, would you be opposed if I accompanied you and our baby girl instead? I am not fond of the idea of you two going alone,” he says, serious and steady.

“We’d love for you to join us.” It’s a conscious effort to speak through the butterflies in your belly. You turn and begin walking once more, Itachi falling in step beside you. “Besides, I believe Mio has missed you today, she settled down as soon as she heard your voice.”

“Just Mio? Nobody else?” Itachi teases, arm swaying with his footsteps, hand bumping against yours. Your heart thumps in your throat.

Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you will your cheeks not to flush. “Maybe I have too,” you say softly, the koi pond you and Sasuke visit often coming into view.

“I’ve missed you both,” he admits. Itachi’s hand keeps touching yours, and the urge to lace your fingers together is so strong it aches.

So you change the subject. “Do you mind if we sit for a moment? My back is starting to hurt.” You gesture towards the bench near the pond, altering your pathway.

“Of course. Do we need to return home? Are you able to continue walking?” Itachi arrives at the bench first, rounding it and waiting to offer you an arm to sit you down with ease.

“No, no I’m alright, Itachi,” you reassure, leaning back with a sigh. “I appreciate your concern. She just seems to grow bigger by the day and continuously play kickball against my ribs.”

Itachi laughs, sitting down beside you. He leaves enough space between you to be courteous. You wish he’d get closer, help you fight off the chilly wind.

There’s idle chatter detailing your days, Itachi asking what he needs to do next to help get Mio’s room ready. You get caught up on boring clan business. Spending any sort of quality time with Itachi, listening to the smooth, low cadence of his voice, drains the tension from your shoulders and fills you with light.

Too soon you rise from the bench to finish your walk, the sunset bleeding into the sky.

The silence on the way home is comforting. You’re able to enjoy Itachi’s presence next to you with no interruptions. His hand, as if it never ceased, continues its pattern of knocking into yours. As you’re about to shove your hand in your pocket to stop the torture he breaks the quiet.

“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, but I cannot stop myself from wanting to hold your hand. Is that alright?”

When you look at him he’s already staring, undivided attention settled entirely on you, and it sends a shock down your spine. “I — yes. You don’t have to ask, I’d never be uncomfortable with that.”

Itachi hits you with another warm grin and your insides melt under the pressure. Slender fingers lace through yours, gently squeezing, and you wonder if Itachi notices the heavy beat of your heart through your fingers.

Conversation flows between you once more on the way home, and it’s not until later that evening you realize holding Itachi’s hand had chased off the bitter chill of the wind. You hadn’t felt cold at all.

“Your brother drives me crazy.”

You sit down next to Sasuke with a huff, couch creaking as Mio squirms in your arms. She reaches her tiny, chubby arms out for her uncle the moment she sees him, cooing in delight.

Sasuke snorts, sparing you a glance as he accepts the seven month old baby with ease. “My brother drives me crazy.” The smile on his face is genuine, eyes soft and happy as he says something unintelligible to his niece. “What did the princess do this time?” He doesn’t look at you while he speaks, distracted by Mio smacking his cheek.

For a moment all you can do is rub your eyes with the heels of your palms and sigh. You lower them to your lap, scanning the living room and all the baby toys scattered about, just begging to be tripped on.

You shift your gaze back to the adorable sight of your daughter and Sasuke. “Does Itachi love me?”

“Yes,” Sauske answers, tone suggesting you’re an idiot for thinking otherwise.

You frown and shove his shoulder. “Don’t say it like I’m stupid. I know Itachi loves me, but I’m asking if he’s in love with me.”

Sasuke’s shoulders tense up, eyeing you from his peripheral. “Are you in love with him?” He fires back. Mio leans forward and rests her face in the crook of his neck, chunky little fingers fisting his shirt as her eyes start to slip shut. She missed her afternoon nap.

“Sasuke!” You throw your hands up in the air. “You already know I am! Why won’t you just tell me the truth?”

“How should I know? I’m not Itachi’s keeper.”

“You’re his little brother.”

“Way to point out the fuckin’ obvious.”

You let out a frustrated noise and relent trying to squeeze the answer from him. He does this every time. Instead, you rest your temple on his shoulder, head heavy with sudden fatigue. Mio sleeps soundly on Sasuke’s chest.

“Whatever, don’t tell me.”

Sasuke sighs as if this the most irritating conversation he’s ever had the misfortune of being apart of. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I can’t just ask him,” you whine. “It’s so difficult to read him. His actions confuse me. Sometimes I swear he feels the same. Other times it’s as if we’ll never go further than friends, cursed to live as roommates.”

“Wow, you can’t read the queen of neutrality’s thoughts? I’m shocked. Truly.” Sasuke’s rolling his eyes, you’re sure of it.

“Remind me why we’re friends?”

A soft knock on the frame of the living room draws your attention, cutting off any snarky answer Sasuke could have replied with.

“Am I interrupting something?” Itachi asks, raising an eyebrow when you meet his sour gaze. He crosses his arms over his chest.

You lift your head off Sasuke’s shoulder with a yawn, shaking your head. “No,” you answer, pulling a leg up underneath you. “Sasuke’s being a dick, and Mio’s napping on said jerk’s chest because she missed her’s earlier.”

Itachi’s features smooth out, a hint of a teasing smile on his lips. “So everything is as usual then?”

“Hey!” Sasuke protests, loudly, and Mio stirs in his arms.

“Sasuke,” Itachi scolds, shooting him a stern look that he’s only putting on to get a rise out of his little brother. “Don’t wake my daughter, please.”

You join Itachi in picking on Sasuke. “Yeah Sasuke, quit being so loud. Haven’t you ever heard of an inside voice? You may be Mio’s favorite uncle now but you won’t be if you wake her up from her nap.”

Sasuke grinds his teeth together. He supports Mio’s bottom with one arm, hugs her tight to his chest with the other, and stands up. “Fuck off, I’m her only uncle. I’m taking your daughter and never coming back,” he threatens, striding forward and glaring at his brother as he passes him by.

You and Itachi share a grin. “Bring her back before her bedtime please!” Itachi calls out over his shoulder, the front door slamming shut after Sasuke. His pathetic threat is just an excuse to take Mio on a walk and show her the flowers once she wakes up, visit his Mother, and then return her before bedtime. It’s become a pattern.

Itachi steps closer and offers you a hand. You accept, letting him pull you to your feet. “Now that the little demon is occupied, interested in making dinner with me?” You start heading to the kitchen.

Itachi trails behind you. “Sasuke or Mio? They both share a demonic energy.”

You laugh, smiling at him over your shoulder. “I can’t argue with that. Although, I think Mio gets it from him.”

“I’m afraid you’re right.”

Itachi ends up cooking something while you watch. He told you he had a new recipe he wanted to try out and he looked so excited you couldn’t refuse.

Sasuke returns Mio, a little bundle of energy, back to you about an hour later.

Your husband joins you in giving her a bath and reading to her until she’s down for the night. Then the two of you linger in her doorway, your least favorite part of the evening upon you. The part that’s just past awkward as you trade goodnight’s with Itachi and retreat to separate bedrooms.

One day, you hope, Itachi will join you in your bed instead of leaving you to sleep alone.

It’s late in the afternoon on Mio’s first birthday when Shisui finds Itachi sulking.

The party is long over, sun shining bright in a blue, cloudless sky, and Itachi sits on the edge of his porch, feet tucked underneath himself. He watches his baby girl play with you and his little brother in the yard, careless and free. Mio squeals with laughter when a butterfly touches her hand, filling Itachi’s chest with affection.

Itachi notices Sasuke say something to you, making your head tilt back with a laugh. He’s out of earshot, unaware of what’s been said, but it brings a well known jealousy to the forefront. It’s become an old friend at this point.

Someone sits down beside Itachi with enough force that the wooden porch protests under them, a hand landing on his shoulder. Itachi holds in an exasperated sigh. He knows it’s Shisui without even looking.

“What’s with the kicked puppy expression? It’s unlike you to pout,” Shisui says, kicking his feet where they hang over the edge.

Itachi frowns and shakes Shisui’s hand from his shoulder. “That is not what I’m doing.”

“Okaayy,” he drags out the word. “So you’re jealous then, gotcha.” Shisui nods to himself.

Itachi’s eyebrow twitches. “Jealous of Sasuke? Why would I be jealous of my own little brother?”

Shisui snickers. “I didn’t even say his name, Itachi! And if you’re not, why are you staring at him with enough force to burn a hole into the side of his head?”

Itachi has no leg to stand on, caught red handed. “That’s, I’m not — I am not jealous of Sasuke, Shisui.”

“You’re lying Itachi. I know you too well, cousin,” Shisui teases, leaning in close to poke him in the cheek.

Itachi ignores the other man, staring without blinking as you stand up straight, Mio supported on your hip. You smile sweetly at him once he catches your gaze and his belly does flips. You whisper in your daughter’s ear and point at him. Mio grins, face lighting up, and reaches out for her daddy, oblivious to how far away he’s actually sitting.

Itachi’s breath catches, seeing the sun surround you with a warm glow, and he feels as though he’s never seen colors so vibrant and vivid before in his life. You hold the beauty of an Angel, and he’s so so lucky you’re his wife. The Mother of his child.

It doesn’t hit Itachi all at once. No, falling in love with you has crept up on Itachi over the past few years. Burrowing deep in his heart and growing like a well watered plant.

“Shisui,” he says softly, waiting for the other man to reply with a hum. “I’m in love with her.”

Shisui almost falls off the porch in shock. He knew Itachi was in love, he just never believed he’d confess to it out loud. “You haven’t been hiding that secret very well, cousin.” He bumps his shoulder playfully against Itachi’s. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What if it’s not reciprocated?”

Shisui’s laughter bursts from him. He holds his stomach and curls in half, creating such a spectacle that you and Sasuke look to them with concern. Itachi’s cheeks are surely flushed from embarrassment. He lifts one hand in a lame attempt to wave as Shisui sobers up.

You wave back, setting Mio in the ground. Sasuke holds one of her hands and you take the other, helping her walk across the grass to the porch. Itachi’s heart rate picks up, praying that Shisui doesn’t slip up and give him away.

As soon as you’re within reach Itachi slides off the porch and crouches down, arms open wide to accept Mio. She wiggles her hands free and reaches forward, closing the last tiny bit of distance with wobbly steps before falling into his chest. Itachi scoops her up with ease, rising to his full height.

“Hello my little cherry blossom,” he coos, resting his forehead on hers. She giggles and places her hands on his cheeks, squishy them together before she presses a kiss to his chin. Then Mio wraps her arms around his neck and pillows her cheek on his shoulder.

He loves her so much he could cry.

“She’s tired,” you comment, sending him warm smile. You place a hand on Itachi’s bicep and squeeze. “It’s been a long afternoon, I’m sure she’d benefit from a nap.”

“I could use a nap, I ate way too many sweets!” Shisui says, joining the small circle the four of you have formed.

“Like that’s a surprise,” Sasuke mumbles.

Shisui pouts. “Rude! Sasuke, you’re the one —,”

“Before this escalates further, I’m going to put Mio down for a nap,” Itachi cuts him off.

You crowd in close and kiss Mio on the forehead. “That’s a good idea, thank you. Sasuke is going to help me put away leftover food.” You grin at Itachi with mischief in your eye, grabbing Sasuke’s arm to tug him towards the sliding door, ignoring his complaints. Itachi laughs and watches with fondness as the two of you disappear inside.

“Don’t be so ignorant, Itachi.”

Itachi whips his head towards Shisui, eyebrows raised to his hairline. “Pardon me?”

Shisui rolls his eyes, tries to hold back a smile, but fails, and pats Itachi on the back. “I said, don’t be so ignorant. She loves you too, you’d be blind not to see it. You’ve been waiting all this time, struggling to come to terms with your feelings. Don’t you realize she’s been waiting just as long? Suffering just as long while you get your shit together?”

“I suppose the thought didn’t occur to me,” he answers lamely, shifting his weight and readjusting his grip on a sleeping one year old.

“Itachi I love you, but you’re so dense sometimes. Tell her the truth. You can spend the rest of your life making up for it.”

Itachi is unsure of what to say after that, leaving Shisui in the yard to retreat inside and put Mio down for her nap. Shisui’s right, and Itachi is overwhelmed with the urge to….to do something.

You‘ll be sharing a bed soon enough, he promises himself that.

what do we think?? part three will be the conclusion, so hope you all are excited as i am!

little taglist for all my peeps who commented on part one! if i did not tag you it’s because i could not verify that you were over 18 and this part has some 18+ stuff in it.

regardless, i want to thank everyone so much for your love and comments! (ˆ ̳ , ̫ , ̳ˆ)

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

| @biashellandflyashell | @misslovingpearl | @kurokawaia | @notgoodforlife | @lamplitesatnight | @mutsu422 | @melancholyshadow |

[heeaara]

FOR YOU, i WOULD ✴︎⠀ ( 정원의 남자친구 ) 𓈒𓈒 ╰—hand in hand, you & me. today, tomorrow, forever.

𝒥 ｡｡ bf ━ yang jungwon + 𝑓.reader ⟡ wc650, cw 𓂃 relationship, skinship, petnames, headcanons ? overall fluff ♡ .

ARA's NOTE : second post on blr, lets goo. took a little layout inspo from my one & only IT GiRL @flwrstqr. dani ilysm TT. also, this fic is mainly dedicated to my one & only jungwon girl @vmpivory. hope y'all enjoy reading it TT.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would always give you forehead kisses for every chance he gets. Forehead kisses is his way of showing pure affection and adoration towards you, His forehead kisses gave you a feeling of protectiveness. Because, let's be honest, a forehead kiss isn't just a kiss, its a promise. And, you knew yang jungwon wasn't the one who broke promises, he keeps them like an oath.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who gives you butterflies even with the smallest gestures. He never fails to make you flustered with his cutest smiles, and not to mention, his compliments always had your heartbeat at the fastest speeds. He knew the kind of impact he had on you and he utterly loved it, he loved how your cheeks would turn red even at the slightest and smallest accolade. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would absolutely turn into a baby for your attention. He loved being pampered by you, and it wasn't like you hated it. You loved it when he would turn into a little fluff ball and being all sulky, craving your attention. You loved the way he would use his boba eyes to manipulate you, not that you hated it, you wanted to actually hide him inside your pocket, that's how cute and irresistible he was. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would always boop your nose whenever he wants to annoy you because he loved seeing his girlfriend being all pouty. You secretly loved it when he did that, it was something, actually ━ a kind of a gesture of pure love and tease. It was the kind of motion only you two understood only. It was his way of telling you that he treasured you and his unbounded love for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who wouldn't even go a day without cuddling with you. To be accurate, you were like his teddy bear without whom he couldn't sleep a night. Cuddles with you were his favorite thing. Having the both of you tangled with each other, having to have you in his arms was like a beautiful dream from which he would never want to wake up from. 

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who loves surprising you with planning and taking you to small, cute dates. Like going on a spontaneous hike, trying new foods, or exploring new places together. As well as, he would take you to small ice cream dates considering how much you loved and were obsessed with ice cream. He loves spending time with you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would totally destroy the whole damn world if something happens or something bothers his girl. He indeed was the cutest and with the kindest heart but when it came to his loved ones, he would actually turn into a monster to protect them. He had a protective nature and you always felt safe with him.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would give you the best acts of services. From holding your bag or carrying your heels to letting him do the dishes or cook the meal for the night. One of his actions that showed how he loved and cared for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would send you small, cute texts throughout the day to check up on you. You loved it when he did that. Whenever you both are away from each other, his texts are the only thing that keeps you motivated and you loved the way it would lighten up your mood or distract you from the biggest of stresses. You knew, he was always there for you.

BOYFRiEND JUNGWON ━ who would love you for who you are, always, and forever.

TAGLiST : @haerinheartss @flufflights @vmpivory @manaah02 @sugarikiz ( imk if u want me to add you to my taglist ).

[adieutristana]

Hi! Can you make arcane characters x reader who is afraid of touch?

of course! thank you for the request <3

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn

summary; arcane women with a girlfriend who is afraid of touch.

tags/warnings; hurt/comfort, (vague) mentions of past trauma, fluff, mentions of poor mental health

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is pretty understanding when it comes to fear of being touched. she is as well, for the most part. when it comes to a relationship, i think jinx would be incredibly touchy, but if you tell her that you're afraid and/or uncomfortable she'll give you the space that you need. yes, jinx enjoys physical touch, but she doesn't want to overstep any boundaries.

✧.* jinx will probably resort to words to show her love instead, though she's not the best with them. saying sweet things like "i missed ya, trinket! i've got something to show ya, yeah?" or "oh gods, you just look so pretty, it's impossible!"

✧.* jinx is the textbook definition of clingy. look up the word in a dictionary, and her face will be underneath. so she won't physically hang off your arm if you're afraid of touch, but she'll still follow closely behind you like some kind of lost puppy. it's endearing, honestly. jinx just needs to be close to you somehow at all times.

✧.* the closeness reassures her. she's used to everyone she lets in, everyone she cares about dying. so to share that proximity with you and have the reassurance that you're here, alive, with her, it means a lot more than jinx thinks you'll ever understand.

✧.* like i said, jinx is the same way to an extent. touch-starved, but also won't let anyone close enough to touch her. so when she met you, let you in and began to trust you, part of jinx did expect that touch. you're in a relationship, after all. but once you explain to her, she understands wholeheartedly!

✧.* also constantly showing her love through gifts and grandiose gestures. makeshift firework shows that are a fire waiting to happen? yep! music boxes that play your favorite songs (although slightly out of tune)? also yes! tagging walls in the undercity with your initials together in hearts! you bet! jinx will go above and beyond, she doesn't want to scare you off by doing something she knows you're afraid of

✧.* on the off chance you do let her touch you she'll be making sure you're alright, but also very very happy for those little moments.

✧.* pressing soft kisses to your cheeks while whispering, "you okay, sweetness?"

✧.* jinx doesn't really question you on these things, she just lets it be. if you say you're afraid of touch, then so be it. not a problem for her.

✧.* "come with me!" she'd say, using her hand to wave you over. "what's this about, jinx?" you'd ask, quirking an eyebrow. jinx would be giggling all the way, shaking her head and nearly skipping towards her destination. "don't worry about it, toots! you'll love it, i promise!"

✧.* knowing jinx, she's probably dragging you to the last drop after hours so she can show you how she decorated it just for you (don't question how she managed to pull that off), or she's taking you to her hideout to show you some of the gifts she made you. she's just so excitable around you, she can't help it

vi;

✧.* vi is a little confused at first i think, but that's just because of her need for communication and specifics. like yes, you're afraid of touch, but what kind of touch?

✧.* she has a loooot of questions. she's not trying to pry at all, genuinely just trying to understand you and where you're coming from better. is it alright if she hugs you every now and then? can she hold your hand? what don't you want her to do? do you need her to ask to touch you, or not touch you at all?

✧.* literally just doing everything in her power to not scare you off. vi has a good thing going with you, something real. the last thing that she wants is to fuck it up because she couldn't keep her hands off of you

✧.* vi is sooo so good with her words, though. a master at sweet talking you to show her adoration.

✧.* "you look so beautiful right now, y'know that? i mean- you always do, but gods, right now..." or something along the lines of, "look at you, all focused and stuff. you always amaze me, cupcake."

✧.* one of her defaults is that it's a trauma response, mostly because she knows that's most of where her sister's fear of touch comes from. she'll try to approach the subject delicately, letting you know that if you need to talk about anything she's here and she only wants to help. it can come off as slightly patronizing without her meaning to, so it really all depends on how you take it.

✧.* if it is a response, then fine, vi wants to help and support you the best she can. if not, then she backs off still, settling for just doing you favors and vocalizing her love for you

✧.* she will not let you do a damn thing if you're in a domestic situation. vi is so loving and attentive. she will handle the cooking, cleaning, laundry, all that... you just rest!!

✧.* honest to gods, vi is just such a sweetheart. literally whatever makes you happiest and most comfortable is done without question by her.

✧.* on the off-chance that your girlfriend does scare you or accidentally crosses a line, she'll be profusely apologizing. asking if there's anything she can do to make it up to you, this is the absolute last thing she wants.. if you need space, you've got it. need words of reassurance? consider it done. literally anything.

✧.* generally, i'd think vi is touchy but not enough that this would be a problem. she's versatile, she can show her love in a lot of ways!

✧.* "mm.. i'll do your laundry for you tonight. give you some time off." "vi, that's not necessary-" "shh. it's done. see? i'm already on my way, getting your laundry..."

mel;

✧.* honestly a bit confused at first. mel has grown up around war, tragedy, and despair, but she hasn't met many people who are just downright afraid of being touched- even in the midst of chaos.

✧.* she probably immediately goes to thinking it's because of something that's happened, though, only because of the war and tragedy that she's seen. she hasn't seen fear of touch in particular, but mel has seen a lot of things affect a lot of people in different ways. if it is, then she wants to support you, of course. if not, she still will do her best to show her appreciation for you in other ways.

✧.* mel is easily one of the most devoted and gentle lovers ever, and she has so many tricks up her sleeve when it comes to affection. we've already established that she'd be spoiling you constantly, but she'd also be using her words so well. i also think mel might be the type to write you poetry, honestly. is she the best writer? probably not. but damn, she pours her heart into it.

✧.* "hey, darling. i wrote something else for you, see?" she'd say while holding up another slip of paper, just to add to the collection of your endless others. "written just for my dearest girl."

✧.* mel is just so attentive. she'll probably be a bit protective, especially in public. even if it's just a stranger innocently tapping you on the shoulder to ask for directions to the station, she doesn't want you to get scared.

✧.* "aht- i'll handle that. directions, yeah? you'll go straight here, then take a left, and another left right past the council building." all before someone can touch you.

✧.* if you do allow any kind of touch later on, mel will tread lightly. it's not that she thinks you can't handle yourself or you're fragile, but she just wouldn't be able to live with herself if she scared you off somehow or hurt you.

✧.* light caresses to your cheeks, gentle hugs, guiding you by the small of your back, her head on your shoulder or lap. always so careful, but so sweet and loving

✧.* of course mel will have a lot of questions initially, but it's only because of her need for connection and understanding. she doesn't mean to push or prod, she just wants to understand her lover better and know exactly what is and isn't okay. what will make you most comfortable being with her, that's all that she wants

✧.* hands-down the best at comforting you if you do happen to get scared by touch, though it's usually not at her own hands.

✧.* "hey. hey, tell me what happened. i'm right here, you're alright." she'd say, her voice low and soothing. "nothing's gonna hurt you, nothing's gonna touch you. at least not while i'm here. just let me make things better."

sevika;

✧.* i don't think you'd really need to have a conversation with sevika about it. she's intuitive. the first time you flinched from her touch, trying to wrap an arm around your waist, she knew something was up and she backed off. she wouldn't ask, wouldn't push for more information than you're comfortable giving her. something in her tells her that it's a sensitive topic, and asking might make things worse.

✧.* if you want to talk to her about it, the floor is open. you know that she'll listen, she always does. but until then, she won't pry.

✧.* if you do decide to have that conversation with sevika, she'll take in and cling onto every last word. we've established time and time again how loyal and devoted she is, how she'll do anything just to make sure you're content. she'd listen attentively, taking note of every little thing that you say scares you, of every shift in tone of your voice.

✧.* "i... thank you for telling me this." she'd whisper, her eyes locked with yours. "you know you don't have to hide a thing from me, yeah? but i won't ask for more than you wanna tell me, either. just don't hold out on me, dove."

✧.* besides, sevika has a lot of other ways she can show her love to you. that connection can be achieved through other means! late night talks, bringing you to play games of blackjack and poker with her, etc.

✧.* that's actually one of her favorite ways to have fun with you: gambling! as odd as it may sound, it's one of her favorite pastimes, and getting you involved in her world is a big deal for sevika. someone who famously doesn't let anyone in. so for her to play games alongside you when she's typically merciless, giving you tips for your own hand, it's a big deal.

✧.* if you do allow sevika to touch you, it'll be fleeting and soft. almost as if she's afraid. it's only because she wants to ensure your comfort and sanctuary, really.

✧.* light kisses to your jawline as she whispers things like, "look at you, so beautiful," or "my sweet girl, you look tired. let's turn in, hm? i can hold you. or not. your call, dove..."

✧.* like she doesn't need to be told twice that you're afraid. sevika is very good with respect, very good with communication and laying off. she loves you, she doesn't want to make you afraid or uncomfortable at all if she can help it.

✧.* super protective in public, though. if anyone tries to touch you at all, even if just to push past you in a crowded place, she's immediately pushing them away from you and telling them off.

✧.* "hey. you lay off her, ya hear? thought we learned as kids to keep our hands to ourselves."

caitlyn;

✧.* i think caitlyn would also catch on pretty quickly. she'd ask just to be sure, but she's a smart woman. she can take hints, put pieces together, figure things out. the first time you inched away from her touch was coincidence, the second time was anything but.

✧.* naturally, cait brought it up with you when she got a moment that was just you and her. she tries to approach the subject with caution and care, as she doesn't want to scare you off or seem like she's aiming to force information out of you. but she loves you, and she worries.

✧.* "you can tell me things, love. i promise, i won't get angry. whatever it is, you can tell me."

✧.* she's understanding once you do tell her! she's been raised knowing devastation and war, though her upbringing is privileged. she still knows about trauma, about fear, about phobias, all that kind of thing. even if it's just a thing of general anxiety and you not wanting to let people in that way. she won't take it personally, she knows that this is just something innate within some people

✧.* caitlyn will likely resort to her words and acts of service instead. she's constantly doing things for you, trying to make your life easier in any way that she can. if there's some housework you need done, consider it taken care of. if you're feeling hungry, she's cooking your favorite without a second thought.

✧.* she might accidentally touch you without thinking- like a brush against your back or a grasp of your hand, but she immediately pulls back and apologizes the second she realizes what she's doing. she gets the hang of it rather quickly, but she's used to showing physical affection to her family and friends.

✧.* she still loves sharing a bed with you at night, but cait makes it abundantly clear that she doesn't expect you to cuddle up to her, and she won't hold you unless you ask her to. she's perfectly happy having you next to her, just your presence soothes her to sleep.

✧.* "shh... just sleep, dear. i'll be right here. you always look so peaceful when you're at rest, it's beautiful."

✧.* cait is honestly just so sweet and understanding, she'll do anything and everything in her power to make sure that you're at ease!

[gyu-tori]

The Great Valentine Heist | C.BG

A PRE-VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL

Pairing: highschooler!beomgyu x fem!reader Genre: FLUFF and Comedy

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Beomgyu hatches a plan to steal a box of chocolates from your locker, sparked by a bit of jealousy. But as his scheme unravels in a whirlwind of chaotic mishaps, including a mix-up with the chocolates and a series of awkward excuses, he’s forced to come clean about his true intentions.

What started as a silly heist ends up revealing more than he bargained for—perhaps even something sweet that wasn’t part of the plan.

Word count: 5.2k

It was the usual chaos at the school courtyard, buzzing with the energy of Valentine’s Day. Students scurried around, exchanging chocolates, roses, and sweet nothings like their lives depended on it. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the frantic clatter of school bags as the students walked by, some wearing bright smiles, others clinging to their best friends, desperately trying to hide their nerves and uncertainty about whether they would receive anything in return.

Among them, you sat quietly on one of the benches near the school garden, staring blankly at the half-eaten sandwich in your hands. Valentine’s Day wasn’t really your thing. It wasn’t that you hated the holiday; you just didn’t see the point in putting too much stock in it. Besides, you were more than content to go about your day as usual—until Beomgyu showed up, of course.

You were midway through taking a bite when Beomgyu suddenly slid into the seat next to you, all wide eyes and the kind of grin that made it clear he was plotting something. You barely had a chance to glance up before he was already leaning in, getting way too close for comfort, his head tilting as if he were studying you like you were some kind of rare specimen.

“So,” Beomgyu began, his voice light, teasing, “did you get any chocolates today?” He raised an eyebrow as if daring you to answer. “Or are you still too intimidating for anyone to dare?”

You glanced at him from over the edge of your sandwich, the same exasperated look that you always wore when he popped up. You swallowed your food with the grace of someone who had long grown used to Beomgyu’s antics, before responding with a deadpan expression. “Sure, Gyu. I’m just so terrifying that no one’s brave enough to offer me any. That must be it.”

Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head, the playful gleam in his eyes only sharpening. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and gave you an exaggerated once-over. “Yeah, right. I bet they’re all too scared to talk to you. It’s not like anyone would want to give chocolates to someone as intimidating as you.”

You rolled your eyes again, suppressing the urge to sigh. “If only you knew how much of a relief that is,” you muttered, looking out at the students milling about, most of them caught up in their own holiday dramas. “I’d rather not deal with all the clichés and awkward exchanges.”

“You’re just bitter ‘cause no one gave you any chocolates,” Beomgyu teased, nudging you with his elbow. His tone was mocking, but you could tell there was an underlying hint of something else, something more familiar to you now—an odd mixture of jealousy and competitiveness.

“Sure, that’s exactly it,” you deadpanned, though you couldn’t suppress the ghost of a smirk. “Because I’m so desperate for chocolates, I just can’t stand it.” You leaned back on the bench, unbothered. “Maybe you should try a little harder next time. You know, if you really want to get in the Valentine’s spirit.”

Beomgyu pouted dramatically, a mock-sad expression overtaking his usual cocky grin. “Oh, I try. Trust me. But you don’t know how hard it is when everyone around you is just too blind to see my charm.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Right. You’re ‘charming,’ all right.”

Before you could continue the banter, you heard a familiar sigh next to you. Soobin had appeared, his presence immediately making the air feel a little less chaotic. The subtle tension in the air shifted, as if everything in the world was a little more put-together when Soobin was around. He leaned casually against the bench, shaking his head as he looked from Beomgyu to you.

“You’re really doing this again, huh?” Soobin’s voice was laced with fond exasperation, his arms crossing in a way that made it clear he’d heard this exact conversation countless times before.

“Oh, come on, Bin,” Beomgyu grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. “It’s Valentine’s Day. People should know better than to try to resist my charm.” He struck a ridiculous pose, complete with finger guns aimed at an imaginary crowd. “I’m the perfect Valentine’s package.”

Soobin sighed again, a long and deeply audible sigh that seemed to come from the very core of his being. “If only the rest of the school agreed with you.”

“Right? They just don’t understand what they’re missing,” Beomgyu whined dramatically, tilting his head back and pretending to stare at the sky in pure anguish. “It’s so unfair. I’m charming, I’m funny, I have looks, and yet here I am, still single. What more do they want?”

“So, what’s your plan for today then?” Soobin asked, clearly not caring to entertain Beomgyu’s long-winded monologue on how society had failed to recognize his greatness. “You just gonna keep complaining, or are you gonna do something about it?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Beomgyu said, with all the certainty of someone who had no idea what he was about to get himself into. “You’ll see.”

You could feel the familiar sense of dread settle into your chest. Beomgyu’s ‘plans’ were always a disaster waiting to happen, and you had no desire to be dragged into whatever he had in mind. In fact, you were far too busy for his antics. You were preparing a small surprise of your own—a box of chocolates you had carefully made for someone special. It wasn’t much, but it felt meaningful. However, you couldn’t help but doubt that this person would actually accept your gesture. You knew better than to expect much from them.

Before you could lose yourself in your thoughts, Minjeong waved from across the courtyard. You waved back and made your way over to her, your mind still lingering on the chocolates.

“So,” Minjeong said as she joined you, her voice light with curiosity, “how’s the Valentine’s Day prep going?”

You smiled faintly, feeling a small flutter in your chest. “Nothing too big. I’ve got some chocolates ready. For someone special.” You didn’t offer more, letting the words hang in the air. You didn’t need to explain more. Minjeong understood.

Beomgyu, of course, overheard your mention of chocolates, and his eyes immediately lit up like a kid in a candy store. You didn’t need to see him to know he was already planning something. You heard him lean closer to Soobin, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You’re telling me,” Beomgyu began, practically purring with excitement, “that (Y/N) has chocolates for someone special? This is too good to ignore.” He suddenly sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing with a gleam of mischief. “I think it’s time for... The Great Valentine Heist.”

Soobin’s expression darkened instantly. “The Great Valentine Heist?” he repeated, a note of dread in his voice. “That sounds like it’s going to end in disaster.”

Beomgyu’s grin only widened. “Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?” he said with an exaggerated shrug, the air of a man who thought he had everything under control. “I’m just ‘borrowing’ Y/N’s chocolates for a little while. They’ll never even know.”

Soobin shook his head slowly, as if mentally preparing himself for the inevitable fallout. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, though it was clear his protests would go ignored. “You never learn.”

Beomgyu just laughed, all too confident. “Have a little faith in me. When have my plans ever gone wrong?”

Soobin, without missing a beat, began counting on his fingers. “Let’s see... You almost set fire to the science lab during last year’s prank. You sent an entire class’s worth of flowers to the wrong room last month, and don’t even get me started on the dance debacle with the sprinklers.” Soobin shook his head, his voice tinged with a touch of disbelief. “You think this is going to work?”

“Don’t worry, Bin,” Beomgyu called over his shoulder. “It’s The Great Valentine Heist—how could it possibly go wrong?”

Soobin just sighed, resigned to the fact that this would, without a doubt, end terribly.

The day had arrived for Beomgyu’s most ambitious plan yet: The Great Valentine Heist. He was buzzing with excitement, practically bouncing on his heels as he caught sight of Soobin leaning against the lockers, a sigh already escaping his lips.

"Soobin!" Beomgyu called out, his voice filled with that over-the-top enthusiasm he reserved for his most ridiculous schemes. "I need you to help me with something huge today."

Soobin's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable but full of dread. “What now, Gyu? This can’t possibly be anything good.”

“Relax!” Beomgyu waved his hand dismissively. “This is going to be a piece of cake. Just a little heist I’m planning, that’s all.”

Soobin sighed again, already feeling the weight of Beomgyu's plans crashing down on him. “And what exactly am I supposed to do this time?”

“I need you to be my distraction ninja,” Beomgyu said, leaning in dramatically as if unveiling some grand strategy.

Soobin blinked. “A what?”

“A distraction ninja!” Beomgyu repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re going to cause a scene so ridiculous that everyone’s attention will be completely taken off me. I’ll slip in, grab the chocolates, and be out of there before anyone knows what happened.”

Soobin let out a tired groan. “And you want me to do this because… why?”

Beomgyu grinned. “Because, my friend, I need someone who can make the whole school stop and stare. Something loud. Something no one can ignore.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Like, sneeze on purpose?”

“Exactly!” Beomgyu said, clapping his hands together. “Go big or go home!”

“I’m going to regret this,” Soobin muttered under his breath, but he knew there was no getting out of it now.

The plan was set. Beomgyu’s eyes were gleaming with confidence as he prepared to execute what was sure to be a disaster in the making.

As you stood by your locker, carefully sorting through your things, you were completely oblivious to the chaotic scene unfolding around you. But then, you heard it: an over-the-top sneeze that echoed down the hallway.

“ACHOO!”

The sound was exaggerated, like a performance, followed by loud, drawn-out coughing. You paused, your eyes darting toward the sound just in time to see Soobin stumbling into view. His face was contorted into a mock expression of agony, his body lurching as if he were about to collapse any second.

You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help watching as Soobin dramatically lurched forward, clutching his chest. “I’m... dying,” he muttered between over-the-top coughs, his voice rising to an almost theatrical pitch.

You crossed your arms, leaning against your locker with a slight smile tugging at your lips. Soobin’s antics were ridiculous, and yet, you found it hard to ignore. You shook your head, muttering to yourself, “Is this really what he’s come to?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu had already started his approach. The commotion from Soobin’s dramatic performance had everyone’s attention on him, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

As Soobin continued to act out his fake illness, Beomgyu darted toward your locker with the same sneaky air of someone trying to pull off an elaborate heist. His fingers trembled with anticipation as he fumbled with your locker combination. The adrenaline surged in his veins—he had to hurry before the distraction wore off.

But the lock wouldn’t budge.

His hands fumbled with the combination, his palms sweating. No—he couldn’t mess this up. He had to get the chocolates.

Just as he was about to give up, a student turned the corner and walked right toward him.

Panicking, Beomgyu froze. His mind raced as he thought of a way to cover his tracks. In a split second, he forced a smile, standing tall as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Oh, wow, these lockers sure are something,” Beomgyu said loudly, gesturing to the locker in front of him with exaggerated enthusiasm. “The craftsmanship on this model is amazing, don’t you think? You just have to appreciate a good locker.”

The student gave him a confused look but shrugged, continuing on their way, probably questioning Beomgyu’s sanity. Beomgyu let out a quiet sigh of relief before quickly returning to his mission.

After what felt like an eternity of fumbling, Beomgyu finally cracked the code and opened the locker. His eyes darted to the box inside, and he grinned. There it is.

As Soobin’s performance escalated, so did the crowd around him. You were still distracted, your attention fixed on Soobin’s exaggerated antics. Your attention had completely shifted from the contents of your locker to the chaos before you. Soobin was tripping over himself, flailing as if he were on the verge of falling apart.

Then, in a moment of pure absurdity, Soobin’s foot caught on the edge of the hallway’s floor tiles, sending him face-first toward the ground.

You gasped, rushing forward to check if he was okay. “Soobin!” you exclaimed, crouching beside him.

“Ugh... I’m fine...” he groaned, pulling himself up, though his face was now an unflattering shade of red from the sudden fall.

You shook your head, trying not to laugh as you helped him up. “Really, Soobin? You should’ve just sneezed like you were supposed to—”

But before you could finish, you noticed that the chaos around you had died down, and Beomgyu, now holding the box, was walking away.

You couldn’t help but give Soobin a look. “This is exactly why I stay away from you two. I can’t even focus on my own locker when you’re causing a scene like this.”

Soobin grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, totally not a scene, right?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu, having gotten away with what he thought was a flawless heist, turned to Soobin with a triumphant grin.

“Hey, good acting, my guy. You really sold it out there.”

Soobin, still rubbing his nose from the fall, plastered a grin on his face. “Haha, totally was acting…”

Beomgyu paused, staring at Soobin for a moment. “Wait, what...?” His eyes narrowed as he noticed something that had escaped him before. "Dude, your nose is bleeding!"

Soobin’s grin faltered as he instinctively wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Oh... that’s not good, is it?” he muttered, his voice tinged with the realization that his “acting” might have been a little too realistic.

Beomgyu, now fully realizing that the situation was a bit more chaotic than he’d anticipated, gave a loud, exasperated groan. “You’re really going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you, Bin?”

The day was going fine until you caught sight of Beomgyu and Soobin acting weird—really weird. Beomgyu was standing with his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets, his eyes darting from side to side as if trying to avoid looking too suspicious. Soobin, for his part, had his arms crossed, but his usual calm demeanor was noticeably absent. He kept glancing over at Beomgyu, who was clearly sweating bullets.

You raised an eyebrow as you walked toward them. “What’s going on with you two? You’re acting like you’ve just been caught red-handed.”

Beomgyu froze, his mouth opening and closing in a clear attempt to come up with a believable excuse. After a moment of awkward silence, he blurted, “Uh... locker security inspections. Yeah. You know, just making sure everyone’s lockers are secure. It’s, uh, an important job. Can’t leave it to anyone else, right?”

You stared at him for a second, clearly not buying it. You crossed your arms and gave him a pointed look. “Really? Locker security?”

Soobin smirked slightly but didn’t say anything, choosing to let Beomgyu sweat it out. You could already tell something was off.

“Uh-huh,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, whatever. I don’t have time to question your important work. Carry on.”

You left them to their questionable business, still not entirely convinced but deciding to let it slide for now. You turned around and headed to your next class.

Meanwhile, the chaos had only just begun.

Kai was standing in front of his locker, his brows furrowed in confusion as he sifted through his things. After a moment, he slammed the door shut with a frustrated grunt and started walking around the hallway, asking anyone who would listen.

“Has anyone seen my chocolates? I swear I left them right here. They’re nowhere to be found!” Kai’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of a few nearby students.

Beomgyu froze when he overheard the frantic questioning. His heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat began to form on his forehead. He’d been so caught up in the heist that he hadn’t even realized his mistake.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, panic starting to creep into his voice.

Soobin, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Congratulations, my friend,” Soobin said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve officially upgraded from prankster to thief.”

Beomgyu shot him an exasperated look, his anxiety mounting. “I’m not a thief, Soobin! I was just—well, it wasn’t supposed to go this far…”

Soobin laughed louder, clearly enjoying Beomgyu’s misery. “Yeah, sure. Just borrowin’ them for a bit.”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu muttered, his mind racing for a way to fix this disaster. He had to get the chocolates back to Kai before anyone else found out.

Beomgyu and Soobin hastily came up with a plan to sneak the chocolates back into Kai’s locker, but, as expected, it didn’t go smoothly.

“Alright, we’ve got this,” Beomgyu said, his voice filled with forced confidence as they approached Kai’s locker. “We just have to slip them in when no one’s looking.”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “You sure about that? Because last time you ‘just had to slip something in,’ it didn’t exactly go according to plan.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare. “Not helping, Bin.”

They crouched near Kai’s locker, trying to look casual. Soobin slowly reached into his pocket to pull out the chocolates, but, in a comical turn of events, his fingers slipped, and the box went tumbling to the ground.

It hit the floor with a loud thud, bouncing once before it rolled straight toward the edge of the stairwell.

“Oh no,” Beomgyu groaned in horror. “Not again.”

Before Soobin could react, the box plummeted down the stairs, bouncing all the way to the bottom.

“I’ll go get it!” Beomgyu shouted, immediately bolting toward the stairs, his legs moving faster than his brain. He was halfway down before he realized what he was doing. Of course this would happen.

But just as Beomgyu reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to see a figure emerging from the hallway—Kai. Kai, who was still asking around about his missing chocolates, had somehow found his way to the same stairwell. Beomgyu’s heart raced in panic.

Trying to salvage the situation, Beomgyu immediately froze mid-run, twisting his body into an awkward, exaggerated pose. He spread his arms wide as if trying to demonstrate some kind of parkour move, landing with an overly dramatic flourish.

“Oh, hey, Kai! Just, uh, practicing some parkour,” Beomgyu said, his voice forced as he tried to act casual, even though his face was already beet red from the sheer awkwardness of it all.

Kai blinked, clearly thrown off by Beomgyu’s strange behavior, but after a brief pause, he gave a stiff nod. “Uh... alright, sure. Parkour… looks good, Beomgyu,” Kai said with a nervous laugh before quickly turning to walk away.

Beomgyu let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, his body still in that awkward position. “Parkour...” he muttered to himself, still trying to act like he hadn’t just made a fool of himself.

Once he was sure Kai was gone, Beomgyu quickly snatched the box from the floor and stuffed it into the front of his hoodie, hoping no one would notice.

Just as Beomgyu was about to stand up, feeling a brief moment of relief, you appeared in front of him, your arms crossed and a confused look on your face.

“Beomgyu… Why do you look like a lumpy kangaroo?”

Beomgyu froze, his eyes wide in panic as you stared at him, clearly noticing the suspicious bulge in his hoodie.

“What? No!” Beomgyu stammered, trying to adjust his hoodie in a way that didn’t make it look even more suspicious. “It’s just, uh, I’m carrying some books... you know, heavy books.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Definitely looks like books.”

“Yep, books!” Beomgyu said with a nervous laugh, his hand awkwardly patting the bulge in his hoodie.

You tilted your head, still not buying his excuse. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it then, Kangaroo Beomgyu.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Beomgyu to stand there, cursing his luck. Soobin, watching the entire interaction from a distance, couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Smooth, Beomgyu. Real smooth,” Soobin called out, his voice full of mockery.

Beomgyu just groaned in defeat, mentally preparing for the rest of his disastrous day.

You had been keeping an eye on Beomgyu all day, watching him with increasing suspicion as he passed your locker with strange frequency. At first, you thought it was just a coincidence, but after the third time, you were certain something was off.

Beomgyu had been acting a little too... flustered. He kept glancing your way, and you caught him avoiding your gaze whenever you walked by. His usual carefree demeanor had been replaced by an almost comical nervous energy. It didn't take long for you to put two and two together: he was up to something.

You had no idea what that something was, but you were determined to find out.

By the time lunch ended, you had a plan. You'd wait until Beomgyu made his move, and when he did, you'd corner him. You just had to make sure you caught him in the act.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, you spotted Beomgyu sneaking past your locker once again, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching. You knew it was now or never.

You quickly approached, stepping in front of him to block his path. Beomgyu froze, his eyes widening as he took an awkward step back.

“Beomgyu,” you said, crossing your arms, “What are you up to?”

Beomgyu looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh—uh, nothing! Just heading to class!” he stammered, his voice higher than usual.

You raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Really? You’ve been acting weird all day. What’s going on?”

He looked around, his body stiffening as if preparing for an escape. “I... uh... I’m just... checking on something... very important. Locker security!” His eyes widened as though he was suddenly convinced this was a plausible excuse.

“Locker security?” You blinked. “Beomgyu, what do you mean by ‘locker security’?”

Beomgyu tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you know! Just making sure no one’s... tampering with lockers, or... or stealing anything, you know? Like chocolates.”

You raised an eyebrow again, clearly unconvinced. “Chocolates? Beomgyu, do you honestly think I’m buying that?”

He flustered, his voice trembling. “I mean, uh... yeah! Locker safety is really important, okay? Especially for Valentine’s chocolates! They’re... uh... high-risk items!”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “And why does that sound like a terrible excuse?”

He opened his mouth, trying to come up with something better, but nothing came out. You had him cornered, and he knew it.

“Okay, okay! Fine, you caught me!” Beomgyu blurted, a little too loudly. “I... I may have borrowed someone’s chocolates. Just for a second! You know, to... uh, check them over, make sure they’re in perfect condition for delivery!”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Wait... borrowed someone’s chocolates? Who?”

Beomgyu’s eyes darted nervously. “Uh... well, I thought it might be poisoned! I—uh—didn’t want the owner of the chocolates to get hurt, so I... I took them for a bit. You know, to make sure they were safe.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Poisoned?” You shook your head, not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by the sheer absurdity of his excuse. “Really? You think someone is poisoning chocolates in a school locker?”

Beomgyu nodded earnestly, clearly trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You can never be too careful with these things, right? I was just... looking out for the owner’s safety!”

Before you could respond, you noticed something—Beomgyu was holding a box of chocolates wrapped in dark red paper. You’d seen that box before. In fact, you knew whose it was.

Kai’s.

You stared at him, realization dawning. “That’s Kai’s chocolates,” you said slowly, your voice flat. “What are you doing with them?”

Beomgyu froze, his face pale. “Uh... Kai’s chocolates... I didn’t steal them, it wasn’t me! I... uh... I was just... returning them!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Returning them?”

“Yes! Exactly! I just thought... Well, uh, I was just being a good Samaritan!” Beomgyu smiled awkwardly, but his charm wasn’t working this time.

Just as you were about to respond, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for those!” Kai said, walking toward you with a confused expression. “Where did my chocolates go?”

You and Beomgyu both turned to look at him. Beomgyu looked like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Kai! Hey, uh, these... these are yours?” Beomgyu asked weakly, trying to act nonchalant as he awkwardly held the box out to Kai.

“Yeah, those are mine,” Kai said, raising an eyebrow. “But... why do you have them?”

Beomgyu gulped. “I... I was just—uh... you know, checking them out! Making sure they’re... uh... still good? It’s a... safety measure!”

Kai glanced at you, clearly trying to piece everything together. “Okay, I’m not really following. Why do you have them, Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed red as he tried to come up with an excuse, but before he could speak, you interrupted. “Wait a second. I get it now. You’ve been after my chocolates the whole time, haven’t you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No! I was just—”

“Admit it, Gyu,” you interrupted, your voice soft but firm. “You thought these were mine, and you took them because you didn’t want me giving them to someone else.”

Beomgyu froze. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. The guilt on his face was obvious.

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Okay, okay, I admit it!” Beomgyu finally blurted, his voice frantic. “I took the chocolates because I didn’t want you to give them to anyone else, okay? I didn’t know how to tell you! I just—ugh, I didn’t want to see you giving them to someone else!”

Kai chuckled behind him. “Well, now this is getting interesting.”

You stood there, shocked by his confession. “Gyu... I made those chocolates for someone special,” you said softly, letting the words sink in.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Wait... what? Then... who...?”

You pulled a second box of chocolates from your bag, the real ones—the ones you’d made just for him—and held them out to him. “I made them for you, you dummy” you said softly.

For a moment, Beomgyu stood there, completely speechless. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He stared at the box in your hand as though it might disappear any second.

“You made them for me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I figured you might need a little extra push to admit how you felt.”

Beomgyu’s eyes softened, and slowly, a wide grin spread across his face. “I... I can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, someone had to keep you on your toes.”

Beomgyu took the chocolates from you, his hands shaking slightly as he held them. “I... I don’t deserve these,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I just... made everything worse.”

You gave him a teasing grin. “It’s okay, Beomgyu. You were just a little jealous. But I’m glad you figured it out.”

He looked up at you, his usual confidence flickering back into his eyes, although there was still a hint of nervousness. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, still holding the chocolates. “Next time, I’ll just steal your heart instead.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back your smile. “Good luck with that, Beomgyu.”

“So,” Kai interrupted, leaning in with a smirk, “When’s the wedding?”

You shot him a glare, but inside, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you. Maybe this chaotic Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

After the chaos settled down and Beomgyu was left to deal with the teasing, Soobin and Kai found a quiet spot near the school courtyard, watching the scene unfold in front of them. Beomgyu, still holding the box of chocolates, was getting playfully scolded by you. He looked embarrassed but happy at the same time—quite the rare sight.

Soobin crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on Beomgyu. “Why do I let him talk me into these things?” he muttered, shaking his head.

Kai, who had been smirking the entire time, glanced at Soobin. “Because you secretly love it,” he teased, giving his friend a knowing look.

Soobin shot him a look of disbelief. “No. I just don’t want him to cause more damage.”

Kai chuckled, nodding in agreement as they both watched Beomgyu finally get a teasing shove from you. “Yeah, it’s probably the best you can do, trying to keep him out of trouble.”

The two of them exchanged a look, clearly rooting for you and Beomgyu to get together. Soobin sighed, but there was a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I swear, this guy never learns.”

“So,” Soobin continued, glancing over at Kai with curiosity, “Who are you giving those chocolates to?”

Kai raised an eyebrow, the mischievous glint never leaving his eyes. “Oh, no one,” he said casually. “I bought them for myself at the 7-Eleven in front of the school. They were on sale, so why not?”

Soobin stared at him, unamused. “Then why the hell were you looking for it like a mad man earlier?”

Kai shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Hey! I’m not letting my money go to waste.”

Soobin shook his head, but a laugh escaped him anyway. “You're unbelievable.”

Kai just grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Hey, it’s all about the deals, my friend. Want some”

Soobin rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, turning his attention back to Beomgyu. "I still can’t believe the two get along so well," he muttered. "The chaos is real."

Kai snickered, glancing over at Beomgyu again. "They’re a match made in disaster. Honestly, I’m just here for the drama.”

Soobin sighed again, but there was no hiding the amusement in his expression now. "I can’t believe I’m actually looking forward to seeing how this mess turns out."

Kai grinned even wider. "I think it’s about to get interesting."

And so, despite all the chaos, The Great Valentine Heist was, in its own twisted way, a success. Beomgyu got the chocolates he’d been after (well, sort of), you finally got to admit your feelings, and even Soobin and Kai found themselves oddly satisfied with the results. After all, what’s a little mayhem between friends? Maybe, just maybe, there was something sweet to be found in all the madness.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Surprise!! Here's a fic for you guys to enjoy to start of february~ This was supposed to be posted ON valentine's but decided against it to make space for the collab so you'll get it early. Celebrating the start of February. No angst today since this month is all about love and sweet stuff, so I'll spare your tears for once (maybe saving them for the collab). Luv y'all!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

First Meetings – Headcannon Edition

Pairing: Task Force 141 x Civilian!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff! Some protective behavior, mild flirting

Author's Note: I love the idea of the 141 boys meeting a partner outside of their usual military world. I just love knowing the boys have someone to come home to but here is how they meet you. Let me know if you’d like any of these expanded!

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

John "Soap" MacTavish

- You meet Soap while he’s on leave, enjoying a quiet drink in a cozy Scottish pub. It’s one of those places where the locals know each other, and you stick out like a sore thumb.

- He notices you sitting alone and, never one to leave someone out, walks right over with a cheeky grin.

- “New in town, are ya? Can’t be sittin’ all by yourself, that’s just a crime.” He slides into the seat across from you without waiting for permission, his energy contagious.

- What starts as small talk turns into a lively conversation filled with his playful teasing and exaggerated stories (you’re sure he’s embellishing, but it’s entertaining).

- By the end of the night, you’ve both laughed more than you have in weeks, and he’s already trying to get you to meet up again.

- “Tell ya what, next round’s on me—tomorrow night?” He winks, clearly hoping you’ll say yes.

---

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

- You meet Gaz in the most embarrassing way possible—by tripping right in front of him. You weren’t paying attention, too distracted by your phone or the book in your hands, and next thing you know, you’re falling forward.

- He catches you effortlessly, his grip firm but gentle. “Easy there, love. You alright?” His voice is warm with just a hint of amusement.

- You’re flustered, mumbling something about not watching where you were going, but he just grins.

- “Happens to the best of us,” he reassures you, then playfully adds, “But I think that’s the first time someone’s literally fallen for me.”

- If you meet at a coffee shop instead, he ends up sitting near you, noticing how intently you’re reading. Eventually, curiosity gets the best of him, and he strikes up a conversation.

- “Good book? You looked like you were in another world for a second.” His easygoing nature makes it impossible not to chat with him.

---

Simon "Ghost" Riley

- Ghost isn’t the type to seek out company, but somehow, you end up sitting across from him at a quiet café.

- You didn’t realize the table was occupied when you put your drink down, and by the time you do, you’re already halfway through apologizing.

- “Didn’t see you there. I can move—”

- “It’s fine,” he interrupts, barely sparing you a glance as he stirs his tea.

- Most people would take that as a sign to leave, but something about him intrigues you. Instead, you stay, making occasional comments about the book you’re reading or the pastries they serve here.

- At first, he doesn’t respond much—just nods or hums in acknowledgment. But eventually, after a particularly amusing remark, you catch the slight twitch of his lips.

- “You talk a lot,” he finally mutters, but there’s no annoyance in his tone—just quiet amusement.

- It takes a few more chance encounters before he actually starts engaging in conversation. But once he does, you realize he’s a lot more interesting than he lets on.

---

John Price

- You meet Price when he steps in to help you out of a tough situation. Maybe some guy at a bar won’t take no for an answer, or someone is giving you a hard time at a store.

- Either way, Price intervenes with that calm, authoritative voice that leaves no room for argument.

- “That’s enough, mate. Walk away.” The guy doesn’t even hesitate before backing off.

- You’re left staring at your unexpected savior—a ruggedly handsome man with a soft smile but sharp eyes.

- “You alright, love?” His voice is gentler now, checking to make sure you’re okay.

- If you meet somewhere more casual, like a bookstore, it’s because he helps you grab something from a high shelf. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but that’s a fine choice of tea,” he comments when he notices what you’re holding.

- He’s not pushy, but there’s an easy confidence about him that makes you feel safe.

- “Can I buy you a drink? As long as no one else needs rescuing tonight,” he jokes lightly.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[honeysorwell]

all of it (all of you) 

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader

Prompt by anon + Idea for reader's nationality by anon

Synopsis: After more than 10 years with the same hairdresser, Melissa Schemmenti must change salons.

Tag list: (Since this is my first time writing for this character, I thought it best not to tag anyone. So if you want to be tagged just let me know.)

Warning: MELISSA AND Y/N ARE MAaaaD *in Ava's voice*

Words: 4k

Synopsis of the story + Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Enjoy!

Link on AO3

Chapter 1 - Changes

Barbara Howard's friendship had a transformative impact on Melissa Schemmenti's personal life from the beginning.

The religious woman's friendship at the beginning of the redhead's career made the Italian woman rethink many things about herself. Regardless of their moral differences, how their individual relationships with religion are almost opposite, or even their small disagreements, one thing right at the beginning turned Melissa's world upside down.

The once chaotic and disorganized woman discovered the calming practicality of being hostage to well-established standards with a Christmas gift from her black coworker in her second year working at Abbott Elementary.

A schedule with a small calendar.

The year she received that gift, the redhead was furious with what was left written between the lines.

Disorganization.

After all, Melissa had absolutely everything under control.

She always had.

In her own way.

And Melissa also thought it was stupid to waste precious time that could be spent working by just planning to work, but after a terribly inconsistent semester (with more art, music and physical education teachers being fired than she can count on one hand), the redhead decided to give it a try.

So, 22 years ago Melissa started to use a schedule and a calendar every year faithfully and never looked back.

As she got older, the certainty of her upcoming appointments and how easy was to change what was needed on that sheet of paper to make better use of her time kept Melissa calm even during all the chaos that continued to live in her head and in her classroom every day. But everything changed when the spaces on pages that were reserved especially for her monthly visits to her family's hairdresser were now blank.

Rationally, the redhead knew that the hairdresser who had taken care of her grandmother's hair for the last twenty years of her life, two of her aunts out of town, washed and cared for her mother's hair every week, and three of her sisters periodically couldn't last long. But Melissa couldn't help but feel fooled and betrayed when Andrea Rossi announced her retirement.

The redhead hadn't been Andrea's client for her entire life, after all, the older hairdresser's regular clients had always been her priority. However, Melissa began to be part of the select group of Schemmenti women helped by Andrea when her former hairdresser (the one who had a Greek accent and many opinions that she hated but didn't discuss because he was her brother-in-law's friend), decided to call her Melinda, even after having her as a client for over three years.

Melinda.

Even though it was seventeen years ago, Barb still remembers the angry redheaded hurricane that entered the teachers’ lounge that week and still manages to make jokes about it whenever she gets the chance.

Monthly visits to the older woman had started with a simple hair color, but unlike her old hairdresser, Andrea had become much more than that for Melissa.

It was a ritual, a moment of care that for a long time brought her joy and confidence. It was talking animatedly with an Italian woman who showed her affection and care, something neither of them would admit out loud but was lacking in the Schemmenti family when it came to recognizing Melissa’s efforts and personal victories.

And now it was over.

“Ragazza (girl), don’t be like that… I’m old now, my hands hurt more than I can handle after a busy weekend,” Andrea tried to justify, stroking Melissa’s head with a tender smile as she finished coloring her hair that day, but which did not hide the weight of the decision.

“And what am I going to do now? Let the gray hair give me another 30 years in less than 6 months?”

“Don’t be silly! I’ve already transferred all my clients to hairdressers that I trust. You included! So stop it now!”

“I don’t want someone new.” Turning uncertainty into resistance is like armor for the redhead, even though she knows she has no choice, her brain still tries to break the meaning of Andrea’s retirement, “It’s going to mess up my entire schedule, Andrea! Two classes and now with you gone? I almost went crazy with the first semester of the year alone, now I know I’ll as soon as classes start after winter break!”

“I know that, Melissa. That’s why I talked to the hairdressers I know, and the best choice for you is Y/N, my last trainee. She’s great, hard-working, very talented and was willing to easily change her own clients’ schedule to see you at the same time I see you every month, she also works just five minutes away from here. You’ll like her.”

“But I don’t know her.” Even though she didn’t admit it, the idea of ​​a stranger touching her hair disturbed Melissa deeply, and the murmur that left her mouth made a point of emphasizing this.

The change came too quickly, and with it, a wave of anxiety took over Melissa's heart. This feeling was temporarily drowned out by her more than exhausting end-of-year routine. She was the hostess of the Schemmenti family's Thanksgiving dinner, and this, along with the end of the year, drained her ability to think about her other problems. But when the following month arrived, and along with the return to school after winter break, her colorless hair also started to show again, so Melissa swallowed her pride and went to the salon that Andrea had recommended to her.

Riverfront Roots.

The name was silly, a clear reference to the Delaware River that Melissa preferred not to think about too much as she looked at the large letters printed on the facade of the place. As soon as she entered the new salon, the smell of hair products and the sound of blow dryers buzzing caught her attention. The place was modern and well-decorated, but Melissa couldn't feel completely at ease. The smell was different, the decor was different, the voices were different, and the redhead hated each of these things.

She wasn't so reluctant to little changes in her daily life, but that week was so exhausting. The two classes together made a point of actively getting on her nerves, Gary also changed some of the lemonade brands in the vending machine and none of the new ones lived up to the taste of the old ones. The man made a point of telling the redhead that it wasn't done on purpose, thanks to the end of their relationship, and she genuinely believed him, but even so, such a change in such a tiring week only made the teacher's discomfort that Saturday morning turn into a gratuitous and deep antipathy towards the new place.

The woman of Italian descent approached the counter, where a receptionist graced her with a friendly smile.

"Hello, how can I help you today?", was the question that greeted Melissa, with a kindness that, in the redhead's mind, was completely unnecessary.

The teacher hesitated for a moment before answering sharply, ignoring the hello offered to her.

"Schemmenti. Melissa Schemmenti, please. I have a coloring booked here. A recommendation from Andrea Rossi." While the receptionist checked her information, Melissa looked around, trying to get used to the new habitat, but she barely had time to do so because, in less than thirty seconds, the receptionist escorted Melissa to a chair in front of one of the largest mirrors in the salon.

The chair that was chosen for the redhead was a little isolated from the other people present, who were laughing and talking without worrying about the noise, but if the redhead was being honest with herself, she actually preferred it that way.

“Hello, Melissa. My name is Y/N and it’s wonderful to meet you. I hope you fell welcome and comfortable here with me. Andrea has told me wonderful things about you and I have her notes in my hand to make sure you leave here satisfied.”, a younger woman with a thick accent appeared out of nowhere, vomiting the words at Melissa with a smile and a sweet voice that were already starting to give the redhead a headache.

The speech seemed rehearsed, still genuine, but her voice seemed too practiced to instill comfort in the redhead. And if that wasn't enough, the younger woman was enthusiastically waving a note in her hand like a triumph, making Melissa even more insecure about Y/N's talent than she already was.

The teacher knows she's not an idiot but… This hairdresser wasn't even thirty years old. This Y/N was clearly in her early twenties, with rich hair and a quick smile that probably lit up the room more than those stupid ringlights that surrounded the chairs in that place.

Not to mention that she was beautiful. Very beautiful.

A part of Melissa, hyper-aware of her own age, felt the bitter taste of envy take over her tongue as she looked at the younger woman's reflection in the mirror in front of her, but another part, even more recklessly, awakened a dormant desire in her mind.

However, even with that spark hidden behind Melissa's eyes, their initial interaction couldn't have been worse.

Y/N seemed excited, first asking Melissa for permission to touch her hair – something the redhead almost said no to, just to see if that smile would die on her lips – but quickly the hairdresser started discussing ideas for Melissa's hair, something that forced the redhead's voice to sound cutting:

"I just dyed my hair red for years.", Melissa made sure her voice sounded as sharp as she intended, "Get those ideas out of ya head and just do what Andrea used to."

The lack of niceness caused Y/N to feel strange, but the hairdresser tried to remain calm despite the discomfort.

New clients were always a little insecure, so the Brazilian woman would just prove to the one in front of her that she had talent.

Y/N always had magical hands. When she was still a girl, on the hot afternoons in her hometown, she would have fun braiding the hair of her school friends. Long locks of hair shiny thanks to the summer sun and strands yellowed by the chemicals of several women in the city often passed through Y/N's hands as if she were an artist molding a sculpture.

Her friends loved the hairstyles she did. At first, they were not at all sophisticated due to her young age, but they were done with so much love and dedication that they always seemed to transform any hair into something unique. For Y/N, it was more than just fun.

It was a passion.

When she reached her teen years, that passion became something more serious. Y/N was not satisfied with just doing the hair of her friends and family. The Brazilian woman wanted to learn, she wanted to master the art of transforming people's hair into something even more special.

That's why when she graduated from high school, Y/N started studying, and within a few months, she was already working professionally at a salon in her city. It didn't take long for her to be recognized for the quality of her work. Her skill with scissors and dye made her quickly stand out among other professionals. She knew what she was doing, she knew how to transform people into more beautiful versions of themselves, she knew what her clients wanted and, most importantly, she knew how to make them feel good.

Little by little, Y/N began to stand out even more and her life began to change.

She knew that her talent could not be limited, and so, when some close friends who had already moved to the United States began to encourage her to try her luck in Philadelphia, Y/N was scared at first. But if the chance to start over in another country meant more opportunities, she couldn't let this pass, even if the exciting idea had the power to scare her. But even though she was frightened, she was soon embarking on a new chapter in her life in a plane.

It was hard to save money for the travel, it was hard to get all the necessary documents to enter the USA legally, it was hard to leave loyal clients behind, and it was even harder to leave her country and its traditions. But the youthfulness of her soul and the hope of a new life embraced her heart and the hairdresser decided to give herself this chance.

Wen she arrived in Philadelphia, Y/N felt, at the same time, small and full of possibilities. The city was big, the competition was powerful, and she was seen as just another foolish immigrant.

But she was determined.

The Brazilian woman knew that her skill could be the key to a promising future. She just didn’t expect that her future would be shaped by Andrea Rossi, an older and more experienced Italian hairdresser who worked at a well-known salon nearby.

The story happened by chance. One of Andrea’s regular clients mentioned that her son had gotten a haircut from a really new Brazilian hairdresser.

“It was something very different… Like those stupid things we see on TikTok, but it was exactly what James wanted, and we had never found anyone willing to do it. What this young woman did perfectly and without thinking twice, and my son loved it!”, the woman commented in admiration before giving the older woman an idea, “You should meet her!”

Andrea was curious and, figuring she had nothing to lose, asked for more information about the Brazilian woman. The client was enthusiastic and told the Italian one everything she knew and, even though she was skeptical, Andrea let her curiosity get the best of her and decided to see it for herself.

The next day, she went to the salon where Y/N was working and, observing closely, immediately noticed the young woman’s skill. The Brazilian woman had the touch of someone who knew what she was doing, an eye for beauty trends, and the needs of her clients, but she also had more than that.

Y/N had a natural connection with people, a charisma that, combined with her smile and strong accent, made any client feel at ease, and Andrea saw that.

So the Italian woman wasted no time. She called Y/N for a chat at the end of her shift and, soon, took her on as her last pupil before announcing her retirement.

Normally, hearing Andrea Rissi's name made Y/N happy. All the advice, recommendations, affection, and wisdom shared by the older woman were a pleasant memory for the Brazilian woman.

But there, while she tried in vain to be nice to what was Andrea's transfer, having her work compared to the older woman's began to annoy her.

First, the owner of those pretty green eyes began to verbalize her dissatisfaction with the work tools Y/N used, telling her how much she preferred Andrea's work tools, which were always on display for her clients to see. Then the redhead started rolling her eyes at Y/N's coworkers, who, since they had no clients, were chatting spiritedly while planning to get their nails done at the end of the day, muttering how much she would appreciate some peace and quiet.

But the first sign Y/N gave that she was definitely not the type of person who would just ignore or shrink from Melissa's bad mood was when the redhead made a point of directly comparing her work to Andrea's before Y/N even started dyeing her hair.

"Andrea, don't part my hair like that. You'll leave my hair full of spots!"

Trying to preserve the good mood she had woken up in that morning, the hairdresser chose to be sneaky and ironic. Y/N looked around theatrically and curiously, as if she was searching for something important, and Melissa, unable to contain her fear and confusion, made her voice present.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just looking for Andrea Rossi since you want to talk about her so badly.”

Receiving only silence as an answer, and thinking that the unhappy attitude of that client was over, the hairdresser continues her journey. Y/N measures the dye with all the care in the world, making sure to double-check on the scale in front of her that the weight is correct when compared to what Andrea gave her over the phone before applying the dye accurately, fearing giving Melissa another reason to complain. The Brazilian woman divides Melissa’s hair locks with the focus of a professional with much more experience, doing everything she can to not lose a single gray hair, and when she goes to wash it, she does so with a gentleness that surprises Melissa.

But the teacher doesn’t want to admit it, so she continues to stare sullenly at the mirror, even while Y/N gently untangles her wet hair.

When the redhead’s hair is nice and completely ready to be dried, Y/N looks at her hair curiously before turning once more to Melissa’s reflection in the mirror.

“I usually do this before dyeing, but what do you think about maybe cutting a few inches? The ends are starting to lose their shape.”

“I don’t want to cut anything.”, the words are said low enough for no one but the hairdresser to hear but Y/N, but with a hint of anger that surprised the young woman, “And stop talking, your voice is too annoying for the kind of mediocre work ya deliver, kid.”

It was insensitive. Even to Melissa.

The redhead knows that Andrea would never send her to a bad hairdresser. She knows she is being harsh and critical to someone who gave her no reason to do so, but before she realizes it the words have already escaped her mouth.

But the teacher simply has no idea what was coming.

The hairdresser’s eyes widened, large pupils full of rage meeting the teacher’s gaze through the mirror, shocked by the words said by Melissa. And, before Melissa's mind can even work on instigating any remorseful reflexes, Y/N grabs a large chunk of hair from the redhead's bangs and takes a pair of scissors out of her pocket with her free hand, quickly placing them right on Melissa's forehead, exactly where her hair grows, like a more than concrete threat.

“Listen to me Philadelphia's beauty, I don't know what kind of hairdresser you expected when Andrea transferred you to me but as long as you sit in my chair you will respect my work and listen to my fucking suggestions.”, it is said as a whisper, but the hairdresser's anger and her thick accent along with the slight pull she gives the redhead's hair make the whole interaction sound indescribably scary, even to Melissa, “I've been nothing but polite and respectful to you, but I'm starting to regret accepting someone so unfortunate in my char that they think they can criticize my work without even knowing me.”

There, locking eyes with Y/N ​​in the salon mirror, Melissa understood how much she had crossed the line.

Melissa took a deep breath, filled with adrenaline at the thought of losing the top part of her hair, before nodding her head, causing Y/N to put down the scissors and let go of her bangs as she returned to work normally.

And then silence.

Dead silence.

The silence between the two women was so thick that it seemed to fill every corner of the room, making the sound of the dryer and the conversations around them sound muffled and filling the air with a corrosive feeling.

The scene from minutes ago was still boiling in Melissa's mind, repeating itself like a scratched record. Now, as if Melissa had finally come to her senses, the redhead wanted to disappear. She wanted to jump out of the chair and run away from the mirror which reflected her own guilt and shame. But she couldn't. Her anxiety combined with the idea of ​​leaving now, before the end of her service (something that could be even more disrespectful than her words), did a magnificent job holding her body in place, like an invisible chain that kept her feet on the floor and her mouth gagged.

With her fingers drumming on her apron-covered leg as the Brazilian woman prepared to style her hair, the teacher wanted to believe that it hadn't been so bad, that maybe Y/N had already forgotten what was said. But she knew that wasn't true. The weight of the moment still hung between them, thick and uncomfortable.

Y/N doesn't cut her hair or even mention the idea once again. The hairdresser just dries her red hair perfectly, but now with a serious gaze and a hurt look on her face. The Brazilian woman vehemently ignores Melissa's green eyes throughout the entire process, and the teacher stupidly decides too late that she prefers the incessant smile that remained on the hairdresser's lips minutes ago.

Melissa thought about apologizing, but the idea of ​​speaking made her breathing quick and shallow, along with the fear of seeming too desperate.

It was then that her eyes fell on the small ceramic jar in the corner of the counter next to her chair. It was decorated with hand-painted flowers and had, in crooked but legible letters, the words: "Tips for Y/N" next to a QR code. Even with the virtual possibility of compensation, the jar was open and with a significant amount of dollars, coins, and two lollipops, which Melissa just knew had been left there by a child.

And so, an idea formed, hesitant but clear in the teacher's mind.

A good tip seemed perfect, silent, indirect, but still meaningful. As the minutes passed, anxiety whispered again in Melissa's mind, wondering if Y/N would believe that she was doing this because of the guilt she felt at that very moment and not because of the regret that was now eating her mind. But the alternative of doing nothing was simply unbearable for Melissa.

The redhead knew she couldn't leave without at least trying, even if in her own way, to make amends.

When Y/N finished applying a light-smelling oil to the teacher's hair and walked away, silently letting her know that her work was done, Melissa tried to meet the hairdresser's eyes and give her a small smile, which she knew would be nervous, but which could give her an idea of ​​what was going on in Y/N's head.

But Y/N didn't look at Melissa.

When Melissa got up from the salon chair, her racing heart didn't stop her from taking two generous bills from her wallet — much more than she would usually give for just an appointment to dye her hair— and walking over to the pot. Her fingers were shaking slightly, but before anything could be done, she was interrupted:

“I don’t want your tip.” Before the two hundred dollars could enter the ceramic pot with the Brazilian’s name written on it, Y/N placed her own hand over the top to the object, successfully blocking Melissa from doing what she intended.

“M'kay. Now you’re being ridiculous!”

With those words, the hairdresser's eyes finally focus on the green ones again, still filled with an anger that Melissa rarely sees in people who have a disagreement with her (too used to the regretful and submissive ones) and the redhead was shocked by this when Y/N actively chooses to ignore her accusation by saying:

"I'm willing to give you the exact coloring mixture that Andrea developed for your hair so you can find a hairdresser who is like the silent imitation of Andrea that you are looking for.", and before the redhead even has a chance to answer her with an apology that would apparently be necessary, the hairdresser quickly collects everything that was used in the teacher's service and directs Melissa a few more words before walking away without looking back, "Call the salon when you want the measurements and the receptionist will share them with you with pleasure. Have a good rest of your day."

[partoffantasy]

Playing Dirty - Liam Mairi

summary: when their latest round of flirtation turns into something more, reader finds herself on the losing end for the first time. Because Liam isn’t just playing anymore. And when he finally makes his move, she realizes—maybe she never stood a chance to begin with.

pairing: liam mairi x fem!reader warnings: MDNI!, smut, swearing, unprotected p in v, oral (f & m) word count: 3.1k

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

–Liam’s POV–

I am going to die. Not from battle. Not from a wyvern attack. Not even from the war. No. I am going to die because of her. Because Y/N just peeled off her shirt like it was nothing, revealing a tight black sports bra and an equally tight pair of shorts that should be illegal. I feel my brain short-circuit.

Every thought evaporates from my head, leaving only one very obvious fact: She is wearing that on purpose. And she knows exactly what she’s doing. I catch the way her lips quirk when she stretches, rolling out her shoulders, pretending she doesn’t notice the way half the damn training grounds are watching her.

I definitely notice. And so does everyone else.

Sawyer whistles under his breath. “Oh, she’s playing dirty today.” Ridoc snickers. “Wonder who she’s trying to kill.” “Me,” I say immediately. “The answer is me.” Violet, standing beside me, hums knowingly. “Well, it’s about time someone made a move.” I shoot her a look, but my attention snaps back to the mat as Y/N steps up to her opponent—another first-year I don’t recognize.

And then she smirks. Oh, fuck me. Because I know that smirk. That smirk means trouble. That smirk means she’s about to put on a show. And I should look away. I should not let myself get sucked into this game she’s playing. But then she moves. Quick, sharp, precise—like she’s dancing, like she was born for this.

She dodges her opponent’s first hit with ease, twisting gracefully, using her smaller size to her advantage. And then she strikes—landing a hit so fast the first-year doesn’t even see it coming. He stumbles back. She smiles sweetly. And gods help me, I am not okay. Sawyer nudges me. “You’re staring.” I don’t even deny it. “She’s doing this on purpose.” Rhi grins. “Of course she is.”

“She’s trying to get in my head,” I mutter, watching as Y/N dodges another attack, her body twisting in a way that is absolutely illegal. “She thinks she’s winning.” Ridoc snorts. “Well… she kinda is.” I shoot him a glare. “Not for long.”

Because two can play this game. And the second Instructor Emet calls my name, I don’t hesitate. I grab the back of my shirt and tug it over my head, dropping it to the mat before stepping forward, letting my shoulders roll loose, letting my muscles flex just enough.

I hear the sharp intake of breath behind me. And when I turn to face Lorena, her eyes are locked on my chest. I smirk. Got her. Her throat bobs. I raise a brow. “Something wrong, Y/N?” She blinks fast, clearing her throat, forcing her gaze up. “Not at all.” But her voice wobbles. 

–Y/N’s POV–

Oh, he thinks he’s so smart. Thinks he can one-up me. Thinks that just because he took his damn shirt off—and yes, okay, it’s annoyingly distracting—he has the upper hand. But what Liam doesn’t realize? I like a challenge.

Instructor Emet doesn’t waste time. “Cadets,” he calls, stepping back. “Begin.” And I don’t hesitate. I lunge first, aiming for his left side. He dodges. I spin, barely missing his grip, and twist—using the momentum to aim a sharp kick at his ribs.

He blocks me with his forearm, but his smile widens. “You’re fast,” he murmurs. I smirk. “You hesitated.” And then I strike again. We move like clockwork—fluid, sharp, precise. Attack. Block. Counter. Strike. It’s a deadly, dangerous dance, and neither of us are willing to give in. But the thing about Liam? He’s stronger.

And the second he catches my wrist, I know I’m in trouble. Because I might be fast, but he’s got sheer, unfair brute force on his side. He yanks me forward, using my own momentum against me, spinning me midair before pinning me flat against the mat.

And suddenly—He’s everywhere. His chest pressing into mine, his breath warm against my cheek, his fingers tight around my wrists. I freeze. Because fuck. Because he’s really close. Because his pupils are blown wide and his golden-retriever face is looking far too pleased with himself.

“Pinned you,” he murmurs, way too smug. I swallow hard. “You think you’ve won.” His grip tightens. “Haven’t I?” Oh, hell no. He’s playing dirty. So I do, too. I shift beneath him—arching just enough, pressing against the solid weight of him, letting my breath hitch just slightly. His whole body tenses. His jaw locks.

And I see it—the brief flicker of panic in his eyes, the moment he realizes that he might have just played himself. I smirk. “Not quite,” I whisper. And then I flip him.

He grunts as his back hits the mat, and before he can react, I’m on top of him, straddling his waist, pinning his wrists to the ground. His eyes go wild. “Oh,” he breathes. Just that. Just oh.

Like he finally understands.

Like he finally sees me.

Like he finally realizes that this game we’re playing? Neither of us are winning.

Because we’re both already gone.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The second classes end, I don’t hesitate. Liam is still talking to Ridoc about something utterly irrelevant—something about lunch, maybe? I don’t care. Because I have one goal.

I grab his wrist, fingers wrapping tight, and yank. “Whoa—Y/N?” His voice is confused, but his feet follow without hesitation. I don’t stop until we’re behind the massive stone statue near the edge of the courtyard—tucked away from prying eyes, away from everyone.

Alone.

The moment we’re in the shadows, I turn, my back hitting the cold stone, Liam right there in front of me, confused but very interested. “What are you—” “I’m tired of this game,” I cut him off, my voice low, breath coming fast.

His expression shifts—just slightly. His head tilts, watching me closely. He’s amused. That should infuriate me. Instead, it makes my stomach tighten. “Oh?” His voice is soft, teasing. “What game, exactly?”

Infuriating.

I step closer, closing the space between us, looking up at him through my lashes. He’s so tall, so broad, his shoulders blocking out the light. “The one we’ve been playing all day,” I whisper-shout at him, getting angry.

I see it—the flicker in his eyes, the moment my words hit. But then he does something I don’t expect. He laughs. Soft. Low. And then, in one slow movement, he steps closer. And closer.

Until I’m fully pinned against the statue, his hands braced on either side of me, caging me in.

Until I have nowhere to go.

Until his mouth is just at my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice lower, rougher than I’ve ever heard it. “Stop calling this a game, you know it isn’t.” My breath catches. Oh, fuck. My heartbeat slams against my ribs. I refuse to break eye contact, but my fingers betray me—curling slightly, gripping his bicep just a little too tight.

He notices. And he smiles. A slow, knowing, dangerous smile. “Here’s the thing, baby,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing just barely over my hip. “I see you. I see right through you. You act like you’re in control. Like you’re the one calling the shots.” His fingers tighten slightly. “But that’s not what you really want, is it?”

I don’t react. I can’t. Because he’s right. He knows he’s right. And fuck, that should scare me. But all it does is set me on fire. I open my mouth, but he’s already there—tilting my chin just slightly with his fingers, making me look at him.

“You need someone who isn’t afraid to take control,” he continues, his voice like gravel and heat. “Someone who doesn’t let you push them around. Someone who knows exactly what you need and isn’t afraid to give it to you.”

I suck in a sharp breath. His thumb brushes my lower lip, just barely. And then he pulls back. Just enough to make me feel the distance. Just enough to make me ache. Then he smirks. “Are you going to finally give in, Y/N?” I stop myself to think. Because if we start—We won’t stop.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Liam pulls me into his room, the door falling softly behind us, the sound of the lock clicking in place. The air between us crackles with anticipation. Before I can even process it, he presses me against the wall with a force that leaves me breathless, his lips crashing onto mine in a searing kiss. His hands grip my sides, pulling me closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. I tangle my fingers in his soft blonde hair, tugging at the strands as if grounding myself in the sensation of him.

His lips move from my mouth to my neck, trailing hot, wet kisses along my sensitive skin. My head falls back, instinctively giving him more access, and I shiver, feeling his warmth spread through me. His breath is ragged against my throat, and when he sucks gently on the skin there, a quiet moan escapes my lips. His grin is audible as he murmurs, “Fuck, I’ve been waiting to hear that.”

The sound of his voice makes my pulse spike, and the desire that has been simmering between us finally erupts into something urgent. I pull back slightly to look at him, my eyes locking onto his as I tug his shirt off. The moment his chest is exposed, the dim moonlight catches on the sculpted lines of his body, the muscles flexing under his smooth skin. My hands trace the ridges of his abs, traveling lower, grazing the waistband of his pants, and then finally dipping to the v-line that dips below. My breath catches in my throat as I look up at him, and his eyes are burning with something almost dangerous.

“You’re perfect,” I breathe out, my voice low and full of need.

Liam’s hands travel down my body, undoing the buttons of my shirt with an ease that speaks to how well he knows me. As the fabric slides off my shoulders, I stand before him in nothing but a delicate lace bra, my skin flushed and my heart pounding in anticipation. His eyes drop to my chest, his gaze dark and hungry, and I can’t stop the flush that blooms in my cheeks.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he mutters before his lips crash back onto mine in a kiss that leaves me breathless. I respond, hungry for more, my hands slipping to his belt, undoing it slowly, teasingly, my fingers brushing against the hardness I can feel through his pants. He groans into my mouth, and I smile against his lips as I slide down to my knees before him, feeling the heat of his body against mine.

I look up at him, his body towering above me, and my hands work swiftly to undo his pants. I hear the rustle of fabric, and then he’s free, his cock already thick and hard. I bite my lip, unable to suppress the smirk that tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“Someone’s eager,” I tease, my voice breathy with desire.

Liam’s breath hitches, his hands threading through my hair, pulling me closer. I look up at him one last time before I lean forward, brushing my lips over the tip of his cock. The taste of him is divine, and I slide my tongue along the length of him, savoring the salty, intoxicating flavor.

His hands tighten in my hair, guiding me slowly, and I take him deeper, inch by inch, until I can feel him at the back of my throat. My mouth moves with precision, hollowing my cheeks as I take him in completely, every inch of him filling me. Liam’s breathing becomes ragged as he watches me, his eyes dark and stormy.

“Gods, Y/N,” he groans, his hips thrusting slightly, urging me to take more. I hum in approval, the vibration causing him to shudder beneath my touch. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

I hollow my cheeks, sucking him in deeper, my hand gripping his thick thighs as I let myself fall into the rhythm, sucking and licking in time with his movements. I can feel the tension building between us, the heat intensifying as I take him deeper, pushing him to the back of my throat.

“Fuck,” he curses, and the sound of his voice is raw with need. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

He pulls me off him, and I gasp for air, my lips swollen from the intensity. Without missing a beat, he pulls me up, capturing my lips in a kiss that tastes like fire. He moves with purpose, his hands guiding me onto the bed. His lips travel down my neck, his breath warm against my skin. He’s moving with a controlled urgency, as if he’s trying to savor every moment of this.

He pauses, his eyes darkening as he looks at me with that intense, commanding gaze. “You’re perfect,” he breathes, his hands slipping to the waistband of my panties. In one swift motion, he pulls them off, throwing them aside. He looks down at me, his eyes hungry, and I feel a thrill of anticipation rush through me.

“Gods, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the swell of my breasts. His lips tease along the lace of my bra, and I arch into him, desperate for more. My hands slide into his hair, tugging him closer, urging him on.

Without warning, his lips trail lower, and he places a soft kiss on my stomach before continuing downward. My breath catches as he reaches my inner thighs, his breath warm against my skin. I squirm beneath him, and he chuckles darkly, the sound making me ache with need.

Then, finally, he’s there, his tongue sweeping over my most sensitive part. A gasp escapes my lips, and I feel my body tremble at the sheer sensation of his mouth on me. He’s slow at first, his tongue exploring, teasing, before he presses harder, his lips suckling gently. I can feel the tension building inside me, a knot coiling tight as his fingers slip inside, stretching me as he works me open.

“Liam, please,” I whisper, my body arching into his touch.

He responds with a low groan, his fingers moving faster, harder, as his tongue works in rhythm with his hands. I can feel myself unraveling, the pleasure building to an unbearable height. “Cum for me, baby,” he urges, his voice a breathless command.

That’s all it takes. My body shudders as I reach the peak, and I scream his name, the force of my orgasm taking me completely. Liam doesn’t stop, continuing to stroke me through my release, his fingers pumping slowly, drawing out every last tremor.

When I finally collapse back onto the bed, panting and spent, he moves up beside me, kissing my forehead before trailing his lips down to my neck. His breath is ragged, and I can feel his heart racing as his hands roam over my body, grounding me back in the moment.

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing me softly as he brushes his thumb over my lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come apart for me.”

I smile up at him, hazy with pleasure, my body still tingling from the aftershocks of my release. I run my finger along his jawline, tracing the lines of his face as I catch my breath.

But there’s no time to recover. He’s not done yet, and as he pulls me closer, I feel his cock pressing against my thigh, hard and ready once more. “You good?”, he asks, looking at me with those big blue eyes. My body responds to him instinctively, nodding and craving more of him.

He pushes my legs apart, settling between them as his tongue tangles with mine in a deep, hungry kiss. I feel the heat of him at my entrance, the weight of him pressing against me before he enters with a single, powerful thrust.

"Oh, fuck!" I cry out, my nails digging into his back, leaving crimson marks that I can’t bring myself to care about. He grins at me, eyes dark with desire.

"I couldn’t hold back," he murmurs, his breath ragged as he pulls out slowly before pushing back in, inch by inch.

I moan in response, my body aching for more. "Faster, please."

He obliges, his thrusts becoming relentless, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room. The rhythm of it—raw, urgent—has me gasping for air, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. My hands rake over his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake as he kisses my neck.

But I push him away, a spark of something wild igniting within me. I twist, flipping us so that I’m on top. He smirks up at me, his hands settling on my waist, gripping hard. I move my hair from my face, letting it fall over my back as I use my hands to steady myself, planting them on his abs.

This position drives him deeper, and I’m sensitive, every inch of him sending waves of pleasure through me. "Fuck, you look like a goddess, Y/N," Liam moans, his voice strained, and he helps guide my movements with his hands.

I move faster, hips circling, driving him wild. His moans, raw and primal, spur me on. "That’s so good," he groans.

After a few minutes of blissful, unrelenting rhythm, he flips us again.

"Get on your knees, head down," he orders, voice thick with need. I bite my lip and obey, shivering with anticipation.

His thrusts come from behind, a new angle that has us both gasping. The intensity of it makes me push back, meeting each thrust with frantic urgency. His hands find my arms, guiding them to my back, holding me still as he presses my face into the pillow.

The scent of him—warm, familiar, intoxicating—fills my senses, and then his hand lands on my ass, a sharp slap that has me gasping, a strangled moan escaping my throat. It’s so damn sexy, I can’t help but cry out louder.

He drives into me, relentless, and the pressure builds—faster, stronger—until I’m teetering on the edge.

"Can you come for me, baby?" Liam groans, his hips faltering for just a moment.

"Yes, gods, Liam!" I moan, feeling the waves crash over me as my orgasm hits, intense and overwhelming. Moments later, he follows, his hips stuttering as he spills into me, the weight of his release pushing me over the edge again.

For a moment, we both lie still, breathless, before he gently pulls out and falls back onto the cushions beside me. He takes a deep breath, his body still trembling with aftershocks. I move toward him, resting my head on his chest as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer, his bare skin warm against mine.

“That was fucking incredible,” he mutters, his lips brushing my temple.

I smile against him, my eyes fluttering closed. “It was. So, so good.”

[gooobraghhh]

I’ve successfully completely broken a mutual of mine and it has been so fun

I’ve talked about @the-kennel-keeper on here a few times but I think I really need to display the whole picture.

He started out like most of my followers, a puppy boy anon in my askbox that had a massive crush on me, but I had happened to follow his account along with like 10 others that were in the trans nsft tag when I first made this blog. He sent me an anonymous ask about realizing I followed him and how it got him so exited but he spam liked me like right before he sent it which made it exceedingly obvious who he was. That little pathetic mistake that was rip for being made fun of was the first thing that got me interested and his general tendency to accidentally humiliate himself or be easily tricked has remained extremely adorable. He finally dm’d me some message about how much he loves my blog since he wanted my direct attention and he did one of those ask games where one of the questions was like “who’s your tumbr crush?” and of course I asked him that one anonymously.

Surprise surprise he says me and at that point I’d sort of gathered too much dirt on him to let it go to waste and I really didn’t even try. We flirted, he talked about how he was only submissive in an extremely defiant, bratty way and how he basically can’t be tamed which just made him all the more alluring of a target for me. He did act like that for a while, but I built up to this perfect demeaning message where I revealed both of my little secrets on him and he just had no choice but to give in. The message ended with me telling him that I own him and I managed to get a “Yes ma’am” in response. He got so worked up that night that he finally got himself off after not being able to for months. I think that’s when I truly gained control over him.

Since then I’ve been slowly training him more and more. Learning exactly what gets him flustered and makes him tick. He started being more obedient, begging on command, singing my praises. A month or two later and the progress is undeniable. Hes cum for me a total of ~10 times (probably more than that, he couldn’t remember the exact number at first but I let him round down) 5 of which have been in the last 24 hours. He volunteered to send me audios of him jerking off and praising how good he’s been trained, he responds “yes ma’am” to basically every command I give him.

I know him so well that I can make him kind of shut down and give in from just a sentence or two of dirty talk. I mean I really pushed him today and yesterday and he couldn’t help but get himself off several times while recording it for me.

This man genuinely thought he was untamable, before talking to me he hadn’t even cum in months, but I’ve taken real good care of my new mutt. Thoroughly corrupted him into my perfect toy. Sometimes I even give him dirt on me just to give him a fighting chance but he’s so pathetic it doesn’t even matter. He’s had sex dreams about me and has chatted with me while around his friends, desperately trying to keep his composure.

So I’m starting a counter in my pinned of how many times he’s cum while thinking of me. It’s only fair I get to show off my hard work I think. We can all enjoy seeing how fucking pitifully submissive my mutt is.

And you can be jealous of him while that number ticks up because I know there’s a lot of you that’d kill to be in his position.

Exited to see how fast I can get keep the number increasing.

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Is there someone else?

Pt 3(Gojo Satoru x reader fluff)

Pt 1

Is there someone else?

Satoru had waited.

Days bled into weeks, and though the world kept moving, his own felt like it had stopped the moment you walked away from that bench. He had gone through battles, missions, and meetings, but nothing compared to the war raging inside him the war of missing you.

You had asked for time, and he had given it. But every second without you felt like punishment, like the universe was making him pay for the pain he had caused.

And then, one evening, as he stood outside the school watching the sun dip below the horizon, his phone buzzed.

A message. From you.

“Can we talk?”

His heart nearly stopped.

He didn’t waste a second.

You were waiting for him at a small café the same one you had hidden in that night, when your heart had been too heavy to carry alone.

The bell above the door chimed as Satoru walked in, his usual confidence muted, his hands stuffed into his pockets as if that could stop them from shaking.

When his eyes met yours, something in his chest cracked open. He had missed you. God, he had missed you.

You gestured for him to sit, and he did, cautiously, as if afraid one wrong move would shatter whatever fragile thing was holding this moment together.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The café buzzed with quiet life around you, the clinking of cups and muffled laughter a stark contrast to the storm of emotions between you.

Finally, you broke the silence. “I needed time to think.”

Satoru nodded, gripping the edge of the table. “And?”

You sighed, looking down at your hands before meeting his gaze. “And I realized that I still love you.”

His breath hitched.

“But,” you continued, “loving you doesn’t mean I forgot what happened. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t hurt.”

He swallowed hard. “I know. And I won’t ask you to forget. I just-” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I just want the chance to prove that I can be better. That I want to be better.”

You studied him for a long moment. His usual mask of arrogance was gone. In its place was something real, something raw.

“I don’t need perfect, Satoru,” you said softly. “I just need you. But I need all of you not the half that’s too scared to let me in.”

His fingers twitched against the table before, slowly, hesitantly, he reached across the small space between you.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t pull away.

Your hands met in the middle, fingers tangling together, warm and familiar. His grip was gentle, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he held on too tight.

“I’ll give you everything,” he promised, voice thick with emotion. “No more running. No more distance. Just us.”

You squeezed his hand, a small smile playing at your lips. “Then let’s try again.”

And for the first time in weeks, Satoru breathed.

Not because he had won some impossible fight, not because he was the strongest, but because you were here, choosing him despite it all.

Because love, real love, wasn’t about winning or losing.

It was about holding on, even when it hurt.

And this time, he wouldn’t let go.

@a-s-illustrations

[beneathsilverstars]

I think maybe they’re acting odd enough in Dormont that when Isabeau leaves the favor tree and goes up to the cliff, he stays closer to the town side — looking at Mirabelle and the path to the favor tree — as he considers whether he should talk to anyone else about it, or ask Siffrin if they’re okay once they’re back from the favor tree, or something. And honestly he probably wouldn’t have ended up doing any of those things! But it means he is close enough to see when Siffrin is about to slip on the banana peel, whereas Siffrin didn’t even notice him there, because why would they look for any changes? Nothing ever changes unless they change it by force.

So Siffrin casually strolls towards the peel, and Isabeau shouts, "Woah, Sif, look out—!" and manages to catch him right as his legs go out from under him. Which, wow! That was scary! Good thing he was there, that could’ve been awful, what with the cliff right there and everything!

So now Siffrin can’t use the banana peel; Isabeau threw it away. And they can’t will themself to just jump off the cliff without it. So they resign themself to getting to the house the slow way, but, stars, they do not feel like sitting around Dormont right now. And it wasn’t even the first floor that they needed to go to anyway, so they’d be doing the whole entire night in Dormont, just to end the loop asap anyway! So. Eventually they give up and go for the dagger. But they’ve never used the dagger in Dormont before, and once they decide to use it they don’t waste a lot of time planning, so. They don’t do a good enough job making sure no one is nearby.

And it turns out Odile was right around the corner behind him, and she rounds it just in time to see him raise the knife. She casts slow on him and rushes forward and manages to yank his arm back before he can cut unsalvageably deep, then shouts for help. She sends the nearest villager to get Mirabelle, who hasn’t used any craft yet today, so she’s able to pour everything she has into healing him. Meanwhile Odile goes to get Isabeau and make sure Bonnie stays away until the situation isn’t so gory.

Eventually Mirabelle has Siffrin all healed and cleaned up and situated at the clocktower, and Bonnie is retrieved to start making dinner a little early. And now Odile and Isabeau and Mirabelle have allll evening to talk to Siffrin and try and figure out what’s wrong and how to help. Though Siffrin, of course, is being very unhelpful. They're desperately looking forward to their next chance to loop, and worried they won’t get one, and spiraling about upsetting everyone, but refusing to tell them about the time loops because it doesn’t matter, Siffrin doesn’t want to upset them more, they just! need! a way to loop!!

And of course he doesn’t say any of that out loud. But it’s not hard for the others to pick up that Siffrin wishes they hadn’t stopped him and is looking for a chance to escape, so of course they don't give him the chance. They ask if anything happened during/before his nap, and he insists no, nothing happened, he's fine. They suggest he doesn’t have to — and in fact, probably shouldn’t — go to the house tomorrow, but that really upsets him, because he wants to help them, he doesn’t want them to get hurt without him!! But they don’t want him to get hurt either.

But eventually they’re like, okay, even if we did give you your dagger back tomorrow so you can fight with us in the house, because we trust that you wouldn’t put us in danger, and we’ll keep a close eye on you — what next? We can’t just! Leave you! I mean we can't stop you from leaving but we want to help if you’ll let us!!!

And Mirabelle starts saying, "Maybe you could stay in the Dormont house with me, when it's back to normal? Until you're feeling better? I know everyone here, I could help you find a counselor if you'd be okay with that!" And Odile adds, "Or if you have somewhere to be I could accompany you; I didn’t have any particular plans on where to go next, so I might as well go the same direction as you." And of course Isabeau chimes in, "I really don’t need to get back to Jouvente any time soon — I quit my job, after all. I can stay with you as long as you need, as long as you want." And they ask Siffrin what their plans were, where they’re headed, and. Siffrin can’t come up with an answer that’s specific enough to be believable, not when they’re currently trying to plan specifics. Playing it off with a joke won't work, not this time. He tries to reassure them that they don’t need to change their plans for him, he’ll be fine, he knows they have their own things to do, and he’ll be fine on his own—

But Isabeau says, "You gotta understand why I don’t really believe that right now, Sif. You don’t have to let us stay with you if you don't want, but please don’t lie to us, you're obviously not fine. We want to help, if there’s anything we can do." And Mirabelle realizes she knows something relevant, so she says, "You told me... You told me a couple weeks ago that— this journey was the happiest you’ve ever been." And in the horrible quiet, Odile reaches the inevitable conclusion: "That journey will be over tomorrow, one way or another, and you don't have anything else to keep going for."

And Siffrin — they've been internally freaking out and spiraling this whole time, right? But it was never quite enough to automatically loop back, because— every mistake they made was immediately followed by clear assistance and compassion. Even when they first cut their throat, the moment that they realized they'd been caught was also the moment Odile touched them and then held them, reassured them with uncharacteristic desperation between shouts for help as she used her own coat to staunch the blood.

And now, no matter how horribly guilty and sick he feels that he's forcing his family to stay with him because they mistakenly think he's suicidal, this is them staying with him. It is a way forward.

So. The truth is out. They know that Siffrin was dreading the end of the quest because he had nowhere and nothing and no one to return to. They're wrong that he was about to kill himself over it, technically, except aren't they right about that too? No one knows it, but that was the reason for the loops, and he sure did kill himself far too easily in them.

The others talk about how they enjoyed the journey together, too, and... none of them wanted to part, either, they just hadn't brought it up yet. Odile says, "If I'd just said something sooner... I couldn't have known this would result, and yet... I should've known something was wrong. I'm so sorry I let you feel so alone and hopeless." Isabeau breaks the sorrowful quiet to say, determined, "We'll just have to make it up to you now. Bonnie will need to get back to their sister, right? What if we all accompany them to Bambouche?" And Mirabelle says, "Yes! That would be wonderful! And, you know, I was thinking of going on a pilgrimage soon — Siffrin, would you want to come with me, after we drop Bonnie off?" And of course Isabeau and Odile chime in that they'd love to go too. And, if they're all staying together, Bonnie might be really disappointed to stay behind in Bambouche, but maybe they could ask their sister if the two of them would like to travel for a bit as well...?

And Siffrin just starts sobbing. After a moment Mirabelle can't stand it, she has to at least offer, "Would you like a hug..? No pressure! But if you want one!" She holds her arms out a little in offer, and Siffrin can't stop themself from falling into them, and soon enough even Odile is patting Siffrin's back while Mirabelle and Isabeau hold them. After a bit, they hear Bonnie from outside the door, sullen: "I know you said they need space because they got hurt. But. You're all in there. And dinner is ready..?" And they tell Bonnie to come in, and Bonnie was mad at Siffrin for getting hurt again, but it turns into shock because, "What the crab, since when are we allowed to hug Frin??" And Isabeau says, "Since now, I guess?" And Bonnie hesitates for a moment, but relief that Siffrin is upright wins out, and even as they launch into a lecture they launch themself into the hug and nearly knock everyone over.

And then they're all laughing, and crying, and telling Bonnie about their travel plans. And then Bonnie brings in dinner, and Siffrin is ready to make himself eat it, but his poker face is gone right now and it's obvious he has no appetite for it — even aside from the fact that it's the same clocktower dinner that he's eaten dozens of times in a row, there's the whole recently-healed neck injury thing — and Bonnie's like, "Well, duh, if you're hurt or sick or whatever you need like, plain rice! And soup! And crackers! And lots of water!!" And they rush off to get a little of the extra rice and whip up a quick simple soup. And it's so nice to eat something new after months of the same stuff that Siffrin starts crying again, so of course they all have to hug him again. And eventually he falls asleep like that, surrounded by his family.

... And then they have to go through the house again the next day.

And, actually, at this point Siffrin is so scared of losing all of this. It's what he deserves, after guilting everyone into staying with him — after making Odile see such a horrible sight, making Mirabelle exhaust herself healing them, making Isabeau carry them back to the clocktower, making Bonnie cook them a whole separate meal — but still, he doesn't want to lose it. And he knows that doesn't actually matter, he'll loop again like he always does; if the perfect family loop didn't work, why would this failed loop change anything, this disaster where he didn't help anyone and instead they all helped him? But he wants to stay with them so bad. Can't he pretend, just a little longer, that there's any chance of escaping? Can't he force himself through the entire house again, just in case? Can't he act like this miraculous plan to travel together is possible? Can't he hope, one last time?

At the very least, they can linger. Siffrin can feel the dread building, they can't imagine how they're going to bear waking up in that meadow again, but they can put it off for as long as possible. They take their time to check every item. They try not to zone out, and sometimes they accidentally drift for a bit, but sometimes they listen and they do catch something new, bits of travel planning and bits of worry. They don't even use their strongest attacks unless the battle is looking dicey. They just make their way through the house as slowly as they can without raising suspicion.

Siffrin is terrified the entire time; he tries to hide it but he's so so tired, and he's so tired of hiding it, too. Everyone tries to reassure him, but it's to little success; and honestly, that's fair enough, with the King ahead! But then they beat the king and Siffrin is more scared, not less? And he's starting to feel sick and dizzy, too — the wish's conditions have been fulfilled. Its craft is dissipating, and without that energy the craft exhaustion is starting to hit.

But everyone is determined to help. They remind him that they've promised to keep traveling together, and it sets him off crying because he wants it so bad and he's so scared, so they all hug one more time before heading to Euphrasie. And Siffrin reminds himself, just one more time. He just has to hold onto hope this one, last time. Just in case.

They talk to Euphrasie, Siffrin shaking, one arm around Isabeau and other hand in Bonnie's, Odile right next to them, Mirabelle right ahead. When it's their turn, Siffrin takes a deep breath in and out and steps forward, and Euphrasie starts to talk and then—

Stops to ask if they're alright.

And she says something else to him, but he can barely hear it, because it's something different. It's something different. And then Isabeau is guiding him to sit down and reminding him to breathe, and Euphrasie is discussing something with Mirabelle, concerned, and it's all different.

It's different.

And it stays different for the rest of the day, and they wake up the next day to Bonnie shouting that they all need to pack so they can leave for Bambouche. Together.

:( au where siffrin tries to end a loop early but someone sees in time to stop/heal him. and they’re desperately trying to figure out why he did that and convince him life is worth living, and in that discussion someone suggests traveling together after the loops. and then ofc they’re keeping a very close eye on him after that, so, he doesn’t get another chance to reset. then they beat the king! so! conditions met! that’s the last loop! the one where they all saw siffrin try to kill themself! the one where the party surely only agreed to stay with them out of guilty obligation. but he’s selfish so of course he won’t do the right thing and refuse to go along with it. :( :( :(

[alilobsessive]

The Terrible Crow

All your life you desired recognition from your father, well you got it! But not from your bio dad, things only grow worse from there. For the Bats, not for you.

All your life you have longed for one thing, you’re Father’s recognition. At first it was simple things, like getting good grades, school awards. Anything for him to tell you how good of a job you’re doing. When he brought in Dick that changed, the escalation was quick. If he could be Robin, if he could fight with your Father why couldn’t you? Eventually after years of begging he agreed, then not even a week later he took in Jason and he became the new Robin. Your Father told you it was because he was older then you, already making it safer for him to go then you. When you brought up the fact that you’re the same age as Dick when he started, your father countered that Dick already had years more training with his parents than you.

After that you reluctantly didn’t argue, scared of seeming like nothing more than a spoiled kid. Jason in you began training together, although the two of you grew a bond it never felt right. Everyone called you close and although you liked him a part of you was resentful. You’re Father was always tougher on your training then Dick or Jason, always finding a flaw no matter how long you practice. In a way it helped you perfect your skills to the last detail. But he never told you “good job” not like Dick or Jason, it was always moving right on to the next thing. After Jason’s death the training got worse, he was somehow harder and stricter than before. You went to bed sore with aching bones and bruises from training, if you went to bed at all that is. Sometimes your sleep schedule was what was being trained, he would make you stay up for days at I time, rarely doing anything more than a nap. He told you this was similar to the training he went through, that it would make you stronger.

You never got the chance to prove it though, not even a half a year since Jason died a new boy was brought in. Tim’s the same age as you, highly intelligent and good at stealth but completely untrained. “SO WHY IS HE ROBIN!” You screeched at the man you call Father, Tim stands there glaring at you. He has a red mark on his cheek from where you slapped him when you were told he would be Robin. You were instantly yelled at and reprimanded by your Father for this, which started this argument in the first place. “I HAVE TRAINED FOR MOST OF MY LIFE FOR THIS, I HAVE DONE ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU WANTED ME TO! I FOLLOWED YOUR ORDERS I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS” You scream at him, tears filling your eyes and falling down your cheeks. He just stares at you, expression blank and unchanging “what made you think I’d ever make you Robin?” Is all he says. Freezing you just stare at him crushed. “You’re dismissed” you feel like he spits it out, he doesn’t but it feels like he does “don’t ever train here again, nor even think about being a vigilante” you’ve never felt so much rage and sorrow before. You turn around to leave pushing Tim to the ground as you do “you’re grounded!” He calls out. Without even looking back you flip him off “fuck you Bruce!”.

After that things were never the same, you never wanted to try at anything anymore. What was the point in constantly studying if it meant nothing? So you did whatever you wanted, there were barely any consequences. Bruce didn’t give a shit about you, he never truly did. Alfred always sided with Bruce, sure he called him out when he was in the wrong, but that rarely changed anything with you. Dick was as absent in your life as ever. Finally you and Tim’s relationship was shit, it would never recover, at least you didn’t care if it did or not.

Eventually though you stumbled across a niche that peaked your interest. It started small, quick one minute videos about animal biology you finished the nearly 10 year old channel's entire library of content in 2 days. Then it evolved into animal psychology and finally to humans, what made them tick. It was fascinating every last detail interested you, from the mating habits of raccoons to the study that showed most humans could pick out snakes in extremely pixelated and blurry images. Even the more questionable experiments that would never pass today, like the wire and cloth mothers, and the monster study. Things that would have been difficult to prove or research if it wasn’t for the unethicalness of it all. Hell, even the bullshit study with gorillas learning sign language was interesting, even if the whole thing was completely pointless and awfully mismanaged. It was just so interesting to learn about.

Then you stumbled across it, a familiar name, Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow. All his published studies were almost 2 decades old, but that didn’t stop how interesting they were. Both as a glimpse into the mind of a madman who long had his license revoked and as a study in how the mind understood fear in general. Sure you were made to memorize his habits, his usual schemes, hell you even helped reverse engineer and make a cure for several of his fear toxin strands. But you never learned about his studies, never learned about the person behind the mask. But now you wanted to, desperately, of course you couldn’t just go to Arkham. Bruce would learn about it and who knows what he would do once he learns of your little…. curiosity.

No, you didn’t want that, so you lied in wait for the perfect time. But while you did so you studied, falling back into old habits. Day and night you obsessively researched human psychology, several studies both bullshit and true. You memorized everything, dates, names, places, what effects they had, any changes or new revelations in the study, what they were studying and in some cases what they ended up actually studying. You even ended up dabbing deeper into chemistry. All of this to impress someone, but you enjoyed learning these things. All of this was fun, unlike dealing with Bruce.

Then finally the day came, Scarecrow broke out of Arkham. Using the skills Bruce ground into your brain you found him. It was pretty easy, you're shocked he didn’t find Scarecrow sooner. Of course you ended up captured, tied to a chair in one of his labs. Oh also a gun pointed at your head, neat! “What are you doing here?” Scarecrow says suspiciously, a wide grin forms on your face as you happily say “I want you to teach me!” The man just looked at you strangely. Then he laughed, “this isn’t a very funny joke kid” the man sneered at you. “But I’m not! I’ve read your work Mr. Crane! It’s absolutely fascinating! I want to learn more, especially about your newer unpublished stuff!” He just stares at you, “really?” He asks, pointing the gun down. Although he doesn’t look like he believes you, “then prove it” before you can even react the gun is back at your head and he shoots.

The bullet barely misses but you don’t move, don’t even flinch, you just smile. You know how manic you look, but you don’t care. Scarecrow just stares at you surprised, he completely lowered the gun and put it away. “Well..” he mumbles, “I guess I can give you a test” that made you feel nothing but pure glee.

The costume you were put in started out simple, a almost completely black suit with blue gloves and a mask vaguely resembling a plague doctor. You thought you looked like a rip off emperor's coven member but that’s not that important. As Crow as his apprentice you were first given grunt work, helping and leading his henchman in getting supplies for whatever project he was working on. That was when you weren’t doing homework, taking notes, organizing documents. The Bat’s were completely unaware of what you were doing, sure they knew you had something after school. The one time they asked you told them you got an internship. They didn’t even bother to verify if that was true or not. Alfred was the only one who even slightly cared and even then he was just proud that you finally found a calling away from the vigilante life. Boy was he only slightly correct.

Things started ramping up after you defeated Tim, Robin in combat. The pure smug joy you felt at that moment is indescribable. The rejected Robin, who's rusty, proving that they're stronger, faster, smarter, better than the current? You were so excited you almost went into hysterics, and the fear on his face as you brutally kicked his ass? Priceless! They didn’t even realize it was you, but Scarecrow did, he recognized how similar your fighting style are instantly. At first you were worried, scared even about what he’d do now that he knew. Truthfully he was suspicious at first, but once you told him your story, how you were rejected from being Robin in favor of the second and third. How cruel they were to you before and after, even said you would tell him the secret identities of the bat’s and everyone you know is affiliated with them. Both publicly and privately, although he rejected your offer he saw your desperation. How much you want, no needed to stay, to keep this. Scarecrow accepted your loyalty and at that moment you truly became Crow.

To commemorate this occasion you got an outfit change. It became more padded, the mask looking more like a helmet then anything, and boots that increase your height by several inches. You were also made to train in a different combat style with both the added height and change of vision it was a necessity. But also to help cover your tracks as Crow from the Bat’s. So you grow, you changed, you trained and trained and they never noticed. Not when you came back injured from work, with new bruises and scars. Not when you came home with gifts, or when you brought your assignments back with you. They were completely ignorant as Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, he became your family, your father.

Eventually though Bruce got suspicious, he never figured out who you were, not until much later. But he realized you're doing something shady, the man never put in the effort to figure out what exactly. So he sent you off to a college far from the city, of course he let you pick the field you wanted. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what to do, psychology was already your passion after all and you were being trained by the best. The only issue was Crow, how to excuse there absence. So faking an extreme injury a week before you left easily fixed that. Afterwards you packed up and went to school, a school you would never return from, not to the manor at least.

There you continued your studies, your training in all forms and your contacts with Scarecrow. The only real difficult thing was not getting caught in your less ethical studies. You spent from the age of 18 to 24 studying as much as possible in your field getting both a bachelor’s and master’s. The plan was to go for a PHD too, but sadly things were interrupted and you quickly returned home. Your dad, Scarecrow was extremely injured during a fight and was in the hospital. Someone needed to step up, that person was you.

This time your outfit changed once more, it made you look even bigger and bulkier then you were. A cloak with a feathered collar, iron gloves with clawed ends, the faceless bird helmet looking even more imposing. Everything in your power to make you look as menacing as possible, large and imposing, a night to rival the knight. As you were making your return known you discovered something interesting, a new Robin, a baby brother. Dispute your issue with your family something about this was exciting. You felt so happy and you didn’t know why, but the fact he’s a Robin? Well, the kid needed to be taught a very important lesson before he learned it the hard way.

It wasn’t hard leading him to Wayne tower by himself. Kid had the skills but no discipline, reckless and willing to do anything to prove himself worthy. You can relate, which is way it has to be you who dose this. You approach the 10 year old boy from the shadows “you came alone hatchling?” You say in a soft voice. He jumps away and wipes his head around to face you eyes wide, he pulls out his sword and points it at you. “How-“ “a magician never reveals there secrets” you say playfully “now put the sword down baby bird” he doesn’t just glares at you. He then lunges forward aiming for your throat, but it wasn’t hard to grab the blade and rip it from his hand. He stares at you wide eyed as you throw it to the other side of the building, he quickly reorganize himself and throw a punch. But you dodge it, each kick and punch he sent was easily avoided.

As he moved to kick your head you grabbed his leg, and pulled him away. “You know” you begin walking to the edge tone not changing, “in nature Crows and Robins have an interest relationship. Crows are an omnivorous creature, they don’t just eat seeds and nuts like some people will have you believe. They’ve even been reported to peck out the eyes and tongues of lambs. Robins are no exception,” you hold him over the edge and watch as his eyes widen. He squirms and yells, “Crows will actually protect the nests of Robins, for a fee of course.” Batman should appear any minute now. “There young, they take and feast on the eggs and hatchlings. They basically farm them, it’s fascinating really. Crows are one of the smartest birds, about as intelligent as a 7 year old human. We’re watching the first signs of the evolution of a society!” You say almost giddy, “little mafias! It’s adorable and fascinating!” “We’re are you going with this” you just stare down at him, your mask making it nothing more then a dark void. You can practically feel his presence close to you, “it’s simple really! I’ve never been payed my dues! And you’re just a hatchling that doesn’t know better” and you drop him.

Batman catches him of course, but by the time he does and gets back up the tower you’re already long gone.

——————

Sorry if it takes a while for me to post things! I haven’t been feeling great both physically and mentally lately.

[milla-frenchy]

Recs | January 25

January readings ❤️

Please, rb the fics you appreciated, that's how they live ❤️🙏

Check the warnings before reading, some of the fics are very dark

Joel Miller

How to break a girl in 10 easy steps | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 @corazondebeskar-reads

joel miller is a lonely old man, but he likes it that way. he has everything he needs: a nice piece of property in the woods, a cozy cabin, and plenty of cash. there is one thing missing, though. one thing he needs that he can't give himself

Borrowed time @aurorawritestoescape

Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul

The warden @arcanefox207

Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules

Lost in the dark part 4 @iamasaddie

the one time you decide to cheat on your boyfriend is, of course, the time his dad catches you red-handed. once a normal relationship turns into anything but, and you are forced to face the new reality

Raider!Joel Original (re read ✨) @toxicanonymity

He's a bad guy, and you're his good girl. Joel saves you from bad men, but claims you for himself. His persona starts to crack, but he gets even more possessive. You're his world, and he'll do anything to keep you

Forest floor (raider!Joel) @toxicanonymity

When sweet pea escapes, what if Joel finds her before fedra does?

BDSm chapt 8 | chapt 9 @mountainsandmayhem

After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree

Basement breeder @toxicanonymity

One night early @almostfoxglove

You vow to find out where Joel hides his Christmas gifts while he's away on patrol

Cuddles & hot chocolate @megangovier

You're laid on the bed in a foetal position, hot water bottle resting on your cramping stomach. Joel was downstairs making chili hot chocolate for the both of you

Austin, Texas, on a cloudy january sunday, 2003 @magpiepills

you and Joel go to a movie, he is in love with you

Never took you for a pervert, Miller @pearlispunk

You borrow a jacket from joel, and it returns to him with a stain. he goes crazy over your scent, and he wants more

Let's go @thundermartini

You decide to channel your inner party girl on this Friday night. But things won’t go as planned. You’ll get even more from this night than a dance in a club and free drinks from strangers

No strings to hold me down @baronessvonglitter

Enjoying the freedom of being friends with benefits with Joel Miller, a new emotion flares when you see him out with someone much younger

Sell-out @aquariusmiller

After a smuggler Joel and Tess were working with didn’t pay for his end of the deal, Joel captures his girlfriend, you. Tired of your boyfriend’s scheming ways, you decide to use the situation to your advantage

My Paramour, My Evermore @schnarfer

Joel Miller is the loss of your life

All the good girls go to hell @aurorawritestoescape

You can't stop thinking about your stepdad so you do something risky to have a little more of him. But Joel is not the "little more" kind of guy

The neighbors @iamasaddie

Of rage and ruin chapt 9 @corazondebeskar-reads

Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though

Pants (raider!Joel) @toxicanonymity

Thoughts on hbf!Joel @baronessvonglitter

Reincarnated @joelmillerisapunk

A late-night text from an unknown number stirs up memories you thought you’d buried. It’s been years since Joel walked out of your life, but now he’s back. Old wounds resurface, boundaries blur, and the question lingers: is this a second chance or just another heartbreak waiting to happen?

Not the real deal @itwasntimethatdidit40

Joel convinces you that there’s nothing wrong with a bit of grinding

Joel and Tommy Miller

Collared | Tommy's turn @tateypots

You are kidnapped by Joel and Tommy 3 years after the outbreak.

Javi P

Strangers @joelmillerisapunk

you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

A new year's distraction @lotusbxtch

Javi doesn't realize that you've got a surprise waiting for him at home

Don't go @wannab-urs

You and Javier fight in the rain

Left behind @wannab-urs

Cleaning your apartment after Javi leaves the DEA and you

The morning commute part 1 @iknowisoundcrazy

In the midst of escobar’s desperate war for control in colombia, your morning commute is disrupted when you find yourself tangled up in his latest bomb threat

How could you love somebody like me? @itwasntimethatdidit40

Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you

Always tomorrow @604to647

Javier chooses an impossible new year's resolution

Frankie Morales

Extra cream and sugar @itwasntimethatdidit40

Frankie is your barista, every morning you walk into his café asking for a tall coffee with extra cream and sugar. He dreams of giving you another kind of cream…

Eyes on the mirror part 1 | part 2 @itwasntimethatdidit40

You're at a turning point in your relationship with Frankie, he tells you that his mother insists on meeting you

Dave York

Law of attraction chapt 4 | chapt 5 | chapt 6 | chapt 7 | chapt 8 @baronessvonglitter

Attraction isn't an easy thing to ignore. Especially when you and Dave find yourselves entangled in each other's professional and then private lives

The stranger | Unveiled | Cuts deep | Ice cold @punkshort

Fresh on the heels of a breakup, you move into a new apartment in a shady part of town. When a mysterious man breaks in, insisting he knew the prior tenant and needs to recover something left behind, you get caught up in a whirlwind of danger and attraction

Pero Tovar

What's a TomDaya? @604to647

Pero regrets getting into a group chat with your friends

Confession @sawymredfox

A late visit to the farmer's market causes a confession

Tim Rockford

While we were texting @sawymredfox

Help and surprises come from unexpected places

Training days @604to647

Detective Rockford leaves for a weeklong tactical training course and you miss him something fierce

Multi p boys

The detective and the agent part 2 @604to647 (Tim x f!reader x Marcus p)

Your detective boyfriend agrees to share you with his friend in the FBI

Non standard issue @bonezone44 (Ezra x Frankie)

Ezra and Frankie stay behind while the other Triple Frontier boys go out

Unnamed/crack fics/other

Sunrise @sawymredfox (unnamed ppcu)

A little bit of body positivity on a Saturday morning, thanks to your husband

Joel's twin @aurorawritestoescape

Fuck boy @sizzlingcloudmentality (unnamed ppcu)

You meet this guy at a bar, drink too much and he shows you his questionable definition of making out aka storage room sex. spoiler: it's never just the tip

Fine ideas @thebrothel (raider!Carter x you x Sweet pea x Joel, by Carter)

Bad girl shit @thebrothel (Slasher Joel x f!reader, by Night Walks)

Special blend @thebrothel (Carter!raider x vamp Joel)

No strings @thebrothel (Night Walks Joel x f!reader, by Vamp)

The heat @thebrothel (sd!Joel)

Wet booth @thebrothel (bf's dad!Joel x f!reader by thighs out)

Non ppcu

Candles @toxicanonymity (Bo Sinclair)

Lovesick @sunshineispunk (Steve Murphy)

Getting dressed @thebrothel (Ghostface)

My writing

Close-up (Joel Miller x fem reader)

Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you

Fics recs