#side note this is the SECOND time someone's been outed without permission on that side of the family 😭

[apollos-boyfriend]

so my younger cousin is flying in to visit from brazil on sunday, and will be staying here for like, the entirety of july. which, don't get me wrong, is super cool! i love the kid! but it felt like a super weird move, considering his parents are the SUPER strict and borderline helicopter parents. even the smallest prank/roughousing with him/his little sister would lead to a strict talking to from his parents, he couldn't ever do anything without their clear permission, that sort of stuff. so letting him fly at alone at 16 to a whole different country and stay there for a whole month seemed WILDLY out of character. additionally, it just felt like a super last-minute trip. it's not like we have any plans to do when he gets here, and the flight itself and stuff only got booked like, midway through june.

and i was talking to my mom about it, kind of trying to nudge some answers out of her, and after a while she went, "yeah, i think they're sending him over here to get away for his boyfriend. see if the distance breaks them off." which, first of all, surprised me because last i checked, they didn't KNOW he had a boyfriend. literally everyone in the family did EXCEPT for them because while that entire side of the family being semi-conservative, his parents (mostly his dad) are EXTREMELY old-fashioned. so clearly something already went wrong. and considering the only reason the rest of the family knew is because one person found out and it spread like wildfire, i have a sneaking suspicion he wasn't the one to tell them, either.

and second of all. they're sending him HERE. to try to make him forget his homosexuality. i couldn't do anything but just wordlessly gesture to the multiple pride flags scattered around my room, then to myself, because really? he has like two other cousins in the us and they're sending him to me? honey i am about to introduce this kid to queer scenes you have never even heard of. he'll be returning home with labels only shrimp can perceive

[tteokdoroki]

VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.

✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less. 

you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu. 

he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard. 

he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend. 

okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.

you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.

there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him. 

you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust. 

rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day. 

much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her. 

they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.

rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.

his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned. 

things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.

then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl. 

maki zenin.

you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.

it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.

your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call. 

yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul. 

but you were never strong when it came to him. 

and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.

voicemail #1  - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”

this isn’t like him. 

even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood. 

you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.

but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call. 

to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord. 

panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.

even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?” 

you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to. 

you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.

when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you. 

but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him. 

voicemail #2  - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.” 

oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together  and just…take in the quiet. 

be close to one another.

so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.

it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’ 

maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care. 

you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years. 

the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.

he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.

“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”

you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“

“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace. 

the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.” 

okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.” 

“yeah?” 

“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“ 

your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real. 

confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood. 

“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.

“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.

“really? you don’t look like it.” 

running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.” 

“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.” 

needs it more than he needs you.

“okay.” you say simply, blankly.

“okay.” he says back. 

the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten. 

voicemail #3 -  “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”

yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect. 

you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.

its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.

“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“ 

you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.

“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”

without you.

you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.” 

your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”

the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat. 

“i’m always here for you, yuuta.” 

“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.” 

you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep. 

ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest. 

“i love you too.”

voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”

for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy. 

but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart. 

even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.

“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”

kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.

he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.

okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name

“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”

“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”

the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.” 

he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone. 

you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold. 

but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.

“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“

“and?” 

“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”

hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice. 

through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.

his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up. 

“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness. 

he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.” 

he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”

there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.

voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”

there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.

there were no secrets, no major ones.

until now.

“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”

the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.

with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.

your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.

as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.

and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.

he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.

“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”

voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!” 

( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )

yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left. 

he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.

and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.

it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.

was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages  the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.

yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.

yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…

yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?

yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.

yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.

yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.

you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.

“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.

you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.

“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”

“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”

“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden…y-you’re different!”

you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”

he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!” 

“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“ 

“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?” 

“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!” 

the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening. 

“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”

your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”

yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.

before you can hear him say that he loves you too.

voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.” 

the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.

after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend. 

gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.

sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you. 

so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person. 

it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.

and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.

tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot. 

his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.

yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.

he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.

your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.

you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth. 

his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.

“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!”  the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.

“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit. 

he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour  like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”

yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets. 

“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.

every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm. 

“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”

blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…” 

his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist. 

your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free. 

“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.” 

you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck. 

that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“ 

“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine. 

“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”

all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss. 

“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.

“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.

you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length. 

yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit. 

“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.” 

“never?” you ask, hiccuping.

“never.” he moans.

you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together. 

the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just  kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.” 

“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.”  you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.

yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!” 

you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine  and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all. 

“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.” 

“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[thenerdykneazle]

Her Touch

Summary: Ominis had never been fond of being touched. Or, at least, he had few positive experiences with it. That changed with the arrival of the new fifth-year.

Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

Warnings: 18+ (only very mild spice here but I do want to do a time jumped part 2 that would be explicit), mentions of Ominis's abusive family, touch-starved Ominis

Word count: 3004

The first time you touched Ominis, he hadn’t been expecting it. It was in the Scriptorium, after he had commanded the door to open in Parseltongue. You had excitedly grabbed his shoulders as you said, “Ominis! You possess a rare ability, indeed!”

He had jumped at the sudden contact. Though, fortunately, you hadn’t seemed to notice. Your attention was quickly monopolised by Sebastian. Ominis was glad for it, as he wouldn’t have wanted to offend you, especially after his outburst at you outside the Undercroft. He still marvelled at how understanding you had been – how quickly you had forgiven him. He wasn’t used to such mercy. Certainly not from his family, and even Sebastian had a tendency to hold a grudge. Ominis definitely did.

Down in the Scriptorium, it had caught him off guard when you grabbed him, as he couldn’t see it coming. Besides, he didn’t generally like being touched. He hadn’t had many positive instances of others being in his personal space.

Most often, it involved accidentally bumping into other students. Other times, it was someone grabbing him to lead him off somewhere without bothering to get his permission first. Growing up, it had included a lot of being dragged by his ear by his mother or his older brother shoving him out of his way. The consequence of all of it was that Ominis did not associate being touched with positive experiences. They were jarring, often painful encounters.

However, already by the second time you touched him, it was different. Still in the Scriptorium, you had rested your hand on his arm as you told him you had found his Aunt Noctua’s remains. You didn’t grab his forearm; you just rested your hand gently on it. Not even your whole hand – just the tips of your fingers, really. It was a whisper of a touch, but you let it linger there. It was oddly comforting – like you were trying to communicate that he wasn’t alone. It kept him grounded to reality as he reckoned with the fact that his aunt truly was gone.

The third touch was when you agreed to tell Ominis if Sebastian was going to pursue dark magic further. You’d rested a hand on his shoulder as you vowed to tell him. He could tell you were sincere in your promise from your steady hand. That was verified when he received your owl alerting him that Sebastian had gone to the catacombs in search of Slytherin’s relic.

Though he always tried to take note, Ominis couldn’t remember every time you touched him. As your friendship grew, he quickly found out that you were what Sebastian called a “touchy-feely type.” You would hug him hello and goodbye, often multiple times a day. At first, you’d just sling one arm behind his back with your sides pressed together. After several months, you would wrap both arms around him as you held him chest-to-chest. Those hugs always left his face warm and his heart beating faster.

You also started to rest your head on his shoulder when you got tired. You always asked if it was all right. Ominis was surprised with himself the first few times, because he found that he quite enjoyed the weight and warmth of your head on his shoulder. You seemed so vulnerable when you leaned against him, trusting him to support you and not let any harm befall you should you give in to sleep. He even, on rare occasions and only when he felt completely secure in his environment, rested his own head back on yours. That usually resulted in him taking a nap, as well. He found that, despite the crick in his neck that he always awoke with, those were his most satisfying naps.

More recently, the back of your hand kept brushing against his when the two of you would walk together. He had jerked his hand away the first time, not anticipating the contact. He regretted it instantly when you muttered an apology. Ominis insisted that it was quite all right, though he was keenly aware that his actions had undermined his assertion. As it kept happening, Ominis’s reaction changed over time. He started to keep his hand very still so that yours might keep brushing against it. Now when it happened, his instinct was to extend his fingers toward you – though, he never actually did what he really wanted, which was to take hold of your hand.

Your touch had become a comfort for him. You held him when he cried, rubbed soothing circles on his back when he was anxious, and sat with your side pressed into his when he was lonely. Ominis had never known the multitude of problems a simple touch could solve before he met you.

Nor, however, had Ominis known the particular torment that such a touch could inflict. Just having you near him was enough to make his palms sweaty and his breathing shallow. If you rested a hand between his shoulder blades or, even worse, against his thigh, it sent his brain into a fit. He would get sweaty everywhere, and his tie would suddenly feel too tight. Just before the summer holidays, you had reclined on one of the sofas in the Room of Requirement as you read a novel while awaiting your exam scores. You invited Ominis to join you and promptly bridged your legs over his lap when he sat down. That had vexed him most of all. You hadn’t even rested them on him, just sort of over with your feet planted on the cushion to his right and your bum against his left thigh.

Ominis hadn’t known what to do with his hands. He didn’t want to accidentally rest them somewhere inappropriate, but he didn’t want to be awkward, either. Eventually, he settled on resting his left arm on the back of the sofa and his right hand on your stocking-clad knee. His thumb began absently stroking back and forth just above it, and he had blushed furiously when he grazed the hem of your skirts. It had brought, unbidden, the idea of sliding his hand underneath the fabric, trailing it up your thigh. That had a sudden heat building in his abdomen – and spreading across his cheeks.

“How is your book?” he had asked, hoping for a distraction.

“Erm…yeah. It’s…it’s good,” you had replied.

Ominis spent entirely too long trying to analyse your odd response. Had you been uncomfortable? Or perhaps just absorbed in your book? Could you have been as affected by the proximity between you two as he had? He couldn’t be sure, and he certainly wasn’t about to ask, “Are you finding this as stimulating as I am? Because I’m feeling quite randy.”

That would’ve gone over well.

He pondered the possibilities frequently over the holidays. Two months spent apart from you were horrible. Not only did he have to deal with his family, but he missed you something dreadful. At least, he had been accompanied by Sebastian, who spent the entire time at Gaunt Manor given he had no guardian in Feldcroft to look after him.

Ominis didn’t realise how much he’d been brooding until his friend called him out for having “resting sad face” and demanded to know what was bothering him. They had been lying in their beds, and Ominis shifted to his side to face Sebastian before admitting that he missed you.

“I think I’ve grown to have quite strong feelings for her,” he confessed.

Sebastian snorted out a laugh. “Oh, you think so, do you?” he asked, sounding thoroughly amused.

“It’s not funny!” Ominis groused, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“It’s funny that you think it isn’t abundantly obvious that you fancy her, mate,” Sebastian retorted.

Ominis’s eyes widened. “What?” he asked, horrified at the thought of everyone knowing his feelings for you. He wasn’t ashamed of them, but he was quite a private person. The idea of everyone knowing such personal feelings of his was mortifying.

“Well, maybe not to her. People tend to be a bit thick about other’s feelings toward them, but I expect that anyone who knows you two can see it. You turn into a mushy little crup when she’s around,” Sebastian explained.

“I do not!” Ominis replied indignantly.

“Sure,” Sebastian said sceptically, clearly trying to avoid a fight.

They fell silent for several long moments.

“She fancies you too, you know,” Sebastian stated.

Ominin’s pulse jumped. “You can’t possibly know that,” he argued, trying to temper the hope bubbling up in his chest.

“I knew you about your cush, didn’t I?” Sebastian retorted. “Besides, she told me she does.”

“She did?” Ominis said eagerly. “Wait, you can’t tell me this, Sebastian! You’re betraying her confidence!”

Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh. “She never said I couldn’t tell you,” he replied.

“I’m sure it was implied,” Ominis said. “But…she really has feelings for me, too?”

“Without a doubt,” Sebastian said confidently.

That gave Ominis a lot more to think about before school resumed. He flipped back and forth between being elated at the idea that you reciprocated his feelings and panicking that the separation would change that.

All his fears melted away the instant you hugged him on the platform at King’s Cross station. It was the best hug he’d ever gotten. You clung to him like you never wanted to let go again, and Ominis would’ve been all right with that.

“Gods, I missed you two!” you said before giving Sebastian a hug, leaving Ominis to mourn the loss of your arms around him. “How was your holiday?”

“As good as being around my family can be,” Ominis replied. “How was yours?”

“Brilliant! Though, I wish you two could’ve visited!” you said.

The boys both agreed, though Ominis knew his parents would’ve never let him stay with a family they didn’t know. Or, rather, who were of unvetted blood status. He wasn’t about to subject her to experiencing his family in their own domain, so he hadn’t invited her to come to him.

Ominis had a lingering worry that things would be different between you two – that spending the summer apart would make things awkward between you. But when you rested your head on his shoulder and fell asleep as the train rattled down the tracks, he felt confident that you’d fall right back into how things were at the end of the last term.

Indeed, things seemed the same if not better. You often invited him to study in the Room of Requirement. His fear that he had made you uncomfortable the last time you’d been on a sofa together was eliminated when you took to putting your legs over his more often than not whilst you did your assigned readings. You only opted for one of the desks in the room if you had to write an essay.

It was a beautiful sort of torture to have you so close to him. It drastically decreased Ominis’s reading speed, but he found himself looking forward to studying now. He’d rest one hand on your knee while his other held his wand to let him read his tome. Sometimes you’d read aloud to him. Sometimes he’d hug your closer leg to his chest and rest his chin on your knee. It was like having his childhood stuffy but warmer and attached to someone who genuinely cared about him.

In the safety of your embrace, he shared his more intimate thoughts with you. Not the one about running his hand up your skirt, but about his hopes for the future, his frustrations with his family, and even his insecurities. You, in turn, opened up to him, as well. And as the weather got colder, you kept him warm in the draughty castle. Though, he was prepared to conjure a thick wool blanket over you if you ever seemed to be chilled.

After a month of being back a school, Ominis decided to admit his feelings to you. He was certain yours couldn’t have vanished over the summer given how you had only gotten more comfortable around him. However, when Ominis went to voice his feelings, he found that he didn’t know how. He knew how he felt about you, but he had spent his whole life suppressing how he felt to keep from stirring up trouble at home.

“I need to tell you something,” Ominis admitted during your daily study session.

He could hear you close your book and set it on the coffee table, giving him your full attention. “What is it?” you asked, sounding concerned.

“I…Well, I…” he tried, but his words were failing him. He usually fancied himself a rather eloquent individual, but he felt thoroughly uneducated as he stammered at you.

How was he supposed to tell you what was in his heart? Just say, “I like you”? Of course he liked you. You were friends. Close friends. “I fancy you” seemed so juvenile. “I want to court you” was too impersonal. It could be for your talent or station, but he wanted you to know how taken he was with who you were as a person.

You rested a hand lightly on his arm. “You can tell me anything, Ominis,” you said earnestly.

His heart swelled at your kindness. He wished he could say what he felt, but he didn’t have the right words. He moved to hold the hand you’d rested on him, lacing his fingers with yours. “I really like this,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze.

You squeezed his hand back. “I like it, too,” you replied.

“Good. I…I had hoped you do,” he said clumsily.

You stayed like that until dinner, your studies forgotten as you just basked in the closeness of each other. It hadn’t been exactly what Ominis had tried to accomplish, but it was definitely progress.

Ominis started taking other opportunities to hold your hand. He’d hold it during classes, giving up his dominant hand in favour of your warmth. Besides, he knew you’d share your notes with him later. He’d also search it out while you studied. He’d graze the backs of his fingers up your leg until he found your arm, which he’d follow down to the hand resting in your lap.

Sometimes, you’d take the initiative, taking hold of his hand while it still rested on your knee. Usually, you’d pull it down to rest it your lap or on your stomach, so you could relax your own arm. It always made Ominis’s heart flutter to know you wanted to hold his hand – and he found your occasional impatience quite endearing.

Then, one day in November, you pulled his hand to your lips, instead. His breath hitched as you placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles. Your lips were soft and warm, and Ominis had the impulse to reach out and brush his fingers over them.

“Is that okay?” you asked cautiously, your warm breath hitting the back of his hand.

“Y-yes, of course,” Ominis replied breathlessly. He could feel his face flushing with heat.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, sounding grave.

“Anything,” Ominis replied without hesitation despite the pit of worry in his stomach.

You shifted on the sofa, moving to sit up. Your knees pressed against his leg as you sat with your legs tucked under you. Ominis could hear you take in a deep breath before you spoke. “What are we?”

Ominis’s brows pulled together. “What?”

“To each other,” you clarified. “I mean, do you like me?”

“Most ardently,” Ominis admitted with conviction. It was only after the words had passed from his lips that he worried he’d been severely mistaken about your feelings.

“Oh,” you breathed out, sounding surprised. That only heightened his anxiety. “Do you not want to court me?”

“No, I do,” Ominis replied earnestly, wondering what reason you could have to think he wouldn’t.

“Then, why don’t you?” you asked. You didn’t sound upset, just curious.

“Well, I…I wasn’t sure if you’d want to, and…I didn’t know how to ask, I guess,” he said.

“I do,” you said before adding, “want to, I mean.”

Ominis felt like he’d just eaten a handful of Fizzing Whizbees. His whole body felt light, like he might float right off the sofa. “Really?” he asked eagerly, before trying to force himself to be rational. “Are you certain? I’m…not very good at this sort of thing. Clearly. I’m sure you could find someone much better suited to the task.”

“I don’t want someone else,” you said. “I like you, Ominis.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Sebastian told me you did over the summer, I just…didn’t know how to tell you that I felt the same without it sounding ridiculous,” he admitted, not wanting any secrets between you.

“Sebastian told you?” you asked.

“I scolded him for betraying what you had told him, but he said you hadn’t asked him to keep it secret,” Ominis explained.

“I never told Sebastian that I have feelings for you,” you stated.

Ominis’s jaw dropped. “That lying rat!” he said, his anger swelling.

You chuckled. “Well, he wasn’t wrong,” you pointed out.

“I suppose not,” Ominis said, still irritated with his best friend. It was hard to stay upset, though, when he realised you had all but agreed to court him. “So, to make it official, would you do me the honour of letting me court you?”

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

Ominis was beaming. Even knowing your answer ahead of time, he still felt overjoyed to hear it.

His singing heart began pounding hard in his chest as he felt your palm rest gently against his cheek. Your breath ghosted over his face as you leaned in, and he tilted his chin up to meet you. Your lips met his in a soft embrace. As they interlocked, it was a confession of your budding affections. A tender pledge of future bliss. You were his – your touch, your love, your loyalty. And he was yours, wholly and truly.

A/N: The line "a tender pledge of future bliss" is from the poem "To A Kiss" by Robert Burns

[ruins-posts]

── “Descent” [Ryomen Sukuna]

synopsis— Sukuna finds out about the one curse more powerful than he ever could be. author's note— Sukuna might be unwanted in the manga, but that's not happening on my watch.

Sukuna belongs to no one. He does as he pleases— and yet, his body shields you from the cruel sunlight that peeks from behind the curtains, that would have otherwise disturbed your generous slumber. His eyes cannot leave you as much as they want to. You're simply the most perfect thing one could lay their eyes upon.

Lips slightly parted, you take deep, fulfilling breaths. He wonders what your silly little human dreams are about. He secretly finds himself hoping he's in them.

He hates it.

Despises, in fact— how naive you are, showing kindness to a being like him. Someone who had a nature more monstrous than the fictional ones the humans create. Whose mere name could send chills down a person's spine. He hates how gentle your touch is. He hates how he loves to see you smile.

Perhaps he will get bored of it, someday.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as a few strands of hair fall down your perfect face. It irritates him more than it does to you— the fact that he wants nothing to trouble you. Nothing. But oh, silly you— fell in love with trouble himself.

Sukuna never knew he was capable of such gentleness till he brushed the hair away from your face. The same hands he used to slaughter his enemies, spread his cruelty, now reduced to doing such a gentle act? How pathetic of him.

His hands remain on your cheek, cupping it gently— wanting to explore this new side you brought out of him. And it makes you stir from your gentle slumber. Eyes fluttering open slowly, the first sight you are greeted with it your beloved master.

"Sukuna..." you greet him sleepily with a soft smile. His heart twists. How could anyone ever smile at him so sweetly? He wants to pull his hand away.

But you stop him. Your hands— softer, gentler, smaller, reach to hold the one he used to caress your cheek. He is not familiar to such a touch of gentleness. He never had been. His heart beats.

You close your eyes shut again, embracing the soothe of his touch, cradling his hand closer to you. The monster's hand. The hand of a person who has only known destruction and death. Placing a soft kiss on his palm, you shuffle closer to him.

The ones who dared do look at him without his permission were rendered limbless the very next second. How come could he allow someone to get so close to him? How could he melt in someone's embrace like he does in yours?

He doesn't know the answer. The love that the world never showed him, you showed it so selflessly he couldn't say a word but place a kiss on the top of your head.

The king was, for the very first time, silenced by a human. To say he was the strongest...perhaps was now, as per him, a wrong statement to make. A curse much more powerful than him did exist. And he had been conquered by such, because for the first time, a being like him who did what he could solely for his pleasure — found himself at the mercy of another.

That curse was love. And he, in the secrets of his mind, declared that there was no curse more powerful than love.

[famwhy]

Bereavement (2)

noun

/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader

Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Note: I can't—for the life of me—believe how many notes the first part got after just a few days of being out, you guys are actually insane. Thank you all so much. And thank you too, Kingpin, for giving me the idea in the first place lmao. (Do me a huge solid and lemme know if any of my Spanish needs some work, I studied it for 3 years but it's been over a year since it's been put to practice so I'm a little rusty)

Miles would never drop you, not in a million years—you knew that.

Something had stopped him, forced him to let go as he froze in time; in an assortment of colours he couldn't control—that was how you found yourself where you were now—free-falling to your death for what was perhaps the second time in your life.

"Y/N!"

It was a lot scarier the first time—you had to admit—when you fell from the glass room right beside the huge collider more than a year ago. At the time, Miles had insisted you stay away from his spider business for your own safety, but you—being you—followed him down anyway.

That was your first mistake.

Your second—however—came in the form of letting Kingpin know you were there after allowing quite the ridiculous sneeze out of your mouth. And once he saw you, it wasn't hard for him to pick you up and throw you through the shattered glass in his rage and dismay of his failed plan.

Miles had his back completely turned to you when it happened, and yet—somehow—he was the first to whip his head around and notice your quickly descending form.

"Y/N!"

You had come so close to the ground—seconds away from touching it—when that familiar warmth wrapped its way around your waist, carrying you through the wind to prop you onto your own little cloud of safety.

Ever since then, Miles refused to leave your side. He took you out on every mission he went to—pretty much every news station had you pinned down as 'Spiderman's girl' and he never bothered to correct them.

So even as Gwen went off to another dimension, Miles grabbed you before following after. Even as he was invited to the headquarters of this 'spider society', he refused to go without them also granting you permission inside too.

When you asked him why he went to such lengths for you, he simply replied, "I almost lost you once while being in the same dimension as you, if you think I'm going to let it even come close to happening again, you've got another thing coming."

So no, you didn't find the second time you were falling to your death all that scary. Not when you knew Miles would save you—

"I've got you, cariño."

—you just didn't exactly know that it would be the other one that did.

His arms were wound tightly around the underside of your knees and upper back—carrying you so intimately, looking at you with so much love in his eyes, you found yourself growing slightly flustered.

...okay, very flustered.

"Oh, Cariño," as he spoke, he didn't lose the breath in his tone—the gentle air of disbelief he took on since your arrival, "you're here. I can't believe it—you're here. Te extrañé mucho." ("I missed you so much.")

You were speechless, gaping up at him like a clueless fish—what else could you do? You were being held in the arms of a copy of your best friend after he basically just confessed to you because the 'you' in this universe was apparently dead.

Though, luckily for you, there was no need to say a word for he continued speaking with those soft, fond eyes, "I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed how you always used to tug me around whenever something caught your eye... and how you would go on and on about whatever show was your new obsession of the month. You were always so... pretty when you spoke passionately.

"Speak for me, cariño," he continued, "let me hear that pretty voice of yours again."

"I—" you were stuttering—why were you stuttering?—"I, uh..."

Pull yourself together, Y/N.

"Miles—"

"Ah, I just realised how much I missed the way you say my name."

"—guh!" How the hell was he spitting such smooth lines? "Miles! Just listen for a minute, okay?!"

"Of course, mamí."

"I— I'm not who you think I am. I mean, I am Y/N but I'm not your Y/N. And you're not my Miles."

As the words came tumbling out your mouth, the boy's—this earth's Miles'—lips tugged down, gaze hardening and grip around you ever-so-slowly growing tighter.

"Don't be silly, mamí, of course I'm your Miles. I always have been and always will be."

Your brows furrowed and your eyes trailed to the view behind him, moving rapidly as you tried to locate your best friend. Though, soon, your view of the sky was cut off by the male with braids once more.

"What are you doing?" A growl. "Stop looking for him, look at me. I'm right here. He dropped you."

"He glitched! This isn't his world so of course he would, it wasn't his fault!"

You were quick to defend him—he was your best friend so of course you were. There was no way you were having anyone accuse him of anything negative, even himself.

"Cariño, you almost died. Again. He can't take care of you." Miles narrowed his eyes, as if just the thought pissed him off; as if he had the right to be pissed off.

"Oh what?" You scoffed. "And you can? I'm my own person, I don't need to be taken care of."

Stubbornly, you found yourself pulling away from him—or well, attempting to at least, he didn't seem to want to let you though, judging by the way his claws slowly began to dig into you a little.

His eyes were narrowed and his lips were tugged down, gaze seeming to pierce through you—as though he was trying to use you as a vessel to glare at the person he was really mad at.

Though, soon, the expression was gone, replaced by sullen eyes and an almost-far-away look—glossed over in a cloudy haze full of what you could only assume to be the grand despair that was grief; grief over a loss so great, it would pain someone to even admit it ever happened.

"Cariño, please. I don't want to argue with you, I just got you back. Please."

The look on his face, the crack in his voice—it was all too much, you almost couldn't stomach it, and soon, your arms loosened up as you lost the will to pull away.

"Miles," you whispered, "I... I'm really sorry—"

"Don't be, you're here with me now, aren't you? We can make up for all that lost time."

"I can't." Your vision blurred as you shook your head from side-to-side. "I'm sorry, I can't."

For a moment, all was silent. No words were exchanged, leaving only the strong wind to howl in your ears; to warn you of your grave mistake and whisper taunts into your ears. Then—

"It's because of him, isn't it?"

You almost couldn't muster words. "Huh?"

"The other me—it's because of him that you won't stay with me, isn't it?"

The look in his eyes was something of a dark nature, swirling with malice; with hate so inextricibly deep, you almost couldn't believe your own eyes—because... because there was just no way, right? There was no way your Miles (or any other Miles for that matter) could exhibit such a lethal level of loathing towards anyone...

"If I get rid of him, it won't be so much of a problem anymore... sí?"

...or was there?

@justmare, @majestichugs, @milktealvrr, @ladyfairenvale, @sakura-onesan, @haunted-pass, @phoenixgurl030, @stupendousnightmaretrash, @ultimate-geek14, @liaaa-1, @sluslutts, @angrypomeranianwifey, @thatbeanieboss, @kkate8008, @lilslmao, @honeydewpie, @elenasstxarr, @sloverr, @quartzangel0, @crystalsinwater, @astrosdelululand, @sflame15-blog, @nightshxdex, @dottoresgarden, @crowshiny, @teamowolverine, @bangtannie7, @k0la22, @kissmxcheek, @myloveforreading, @jared-oranges, @shisuishoe, @veryfancydoilies, @sunshinesetsstuff, @lovefks, @omg-the-nutella-queen, @hazzapotter, @levanneisdumb, @angie2274, @blueberrystigma

[dark-and-kawaii]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ Pathetically Beautiful ˖⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

Summary: You thought you’d be able to enjoy him longer, that it would last all night. You never expected him to feel so good though, never expected him to stretch you the way he did, never thought you’d scream his name in a matter of seconds…

ੈ Content: NSFW - Creampie - Breeding - Zevlor Doesn’t Last Long & Neither Do you

ੈ Notes: I just love the thought of him coming undone in a matter of seconds. Zevlor not being able to last long is my drug~~~

You weren’t even fully impaled on his cock yet, you both had only just began seconds ago… But hells his cock was so large, so meaty and full of veins. And those ridges, oh gods those ridges. Each one catching on your inner walls, rubbing and grinding against your sensitive gummy flesh. It made your cunt ache, in such a sweet and blissful way that made your eyes water.

Your poor cunt was stretched so deliciously around his girth. Your pussy squirting out juices, making an absolute mess on the caves flooring as you reached your high, your body convulsing on his lap. Your legs weakly trying to wrap around him best they could while Zevlor shuddered as he held you against him, his legs shaking beneath you as he came deep within your depths…

You could feel his hot thick seed filling your womb, you swore you felt it sloshing inside your belly. His warm heavy balls emptying all their pent up seed into your tight wet cunny.

Most would’ve found this pathetic, laugh in his face how he couldn’t even last more than a few seconds after plunging halft his cock inside of your needy dripping cunt. But not you, the thought that your cunt was so perfect, so good at milking his cock and drawing out his cum… it made you blush, your heart pounding. You knew it had been a while for him, knew he was just so pent up and eager and excited to finally be fucking someone, to finally be buried inside a pussy once more...

You were so happy it was with you, happy to have found a man~ a tiefling man~ with a cock that could make you see stars without even filling you fully. The thought of him impregnating you, the thought of him getting you pregnant with his tiefling babies, your body swelling, your tits growing large with milk. Oh gods, the thought was enough to make you drool.

You were a trembling sweaty mess, a smile on your face, panting and trying to catch your breath. Your chest rising and falling rapidly, your head against his shoulder along with his on yours.

Zevlor grunted as he held you, his grip so strong and tight. He panted harshly, his tongue hanging out of his maw, his mouth open wide and panting like a wild dog, some little infernal curses slipping out under his breath.

You knew he was ashamed, you could tell by the way he held onto you, his grip tightening every time you tried to pull away to look at him. You could hear the soft sounds of embarrassment coming from him. You wanted to reassure him, let him know that this was a okay, that he could spill within you again from just the mere feeling of you lowering yourself on him... That he was so good and he didn't need to be embarrassed or ashamed. That you’d happily watch him come undone beneath you again and again.

Wrapping your arms around his head, you cradled him to you, “I’ve never had a man make me cum with only the tip of his cock before, Zevlor~” You purred out, running your fingers through his hair, pulling at his ponytail, smiling sweetly when you felt him lean into your touch.

His breathing was still hard, his chest and sides heaving. He had stopped shaking though and for a moment you had thought he was asleep, till he spoke softly, “I-i didn't mean to-“

You knew he was talking about how he released inside you, knew he was ashamed because of the man he was, and that he felt terrible for not asking permission first… Ashamed it just happened.

You bit your bottom lip, a nervous blush on your cheeks, “Don't apologize... I liked it~ And besides” You titled his chin up, his sad eyes looking deep into yours, your lips brushing his, “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll meet you in Baldurs Gate…” Your fingers swiped a stray hair from his face, “so feel free to cum inside me again and again, my darling hellrider~”

That look on his face was one of the most precious things you had ever seen, “A-are you positive? I am a dreaded hellspawn afterall-“ he let out a dreaded laugh at the nickname his kind was given, “life won’t be easy-“

You smiled as you leaned in for a kiss, “I couldn’t be more sure~” your hand cupping his cheek. You were so lost in him, so focused on him and kissing him, his lips were so warm and soft and-

You gasped, your body tensing as his hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he lifted you up off his cock. He groaned as he did so, a strained growl coming from him before he suddenly slammed you back down.

His cock buried deep inside your cunt, his ridges pressing, grinding and rubbing against your gummy walls. You squealed, a sharp yelp followed by a moan escaping you, “Zevlor!!!!~”

Everyone would tell you how pathetic it was you both came in the beginning from merely straddling him, but it was beautiful how you both had the stamina to fuck well into the early morning hours. Your voice hoarse from moaning, screaming, and crying out his name until you were fast asleep in his arms. His tail creeping around your ankle as he drifted off, the sweetest smile on his face.

[lady-ashfade]

Day 1 Of Fictober

Love potion

Yandere!Class 1A x Witch Reader Hc’s

Ask:Class 1a got hit by one of their potions and Reader is desperately trying to get an antidote. @serxinns

Warnings: Love potion, Yandere tendencies, obsession, Slight touching without permission.

Infecting the whole class at the same time was a mess. You had left your fail experiment out in your studying room and denki decide it would be funny to take some, and poor it in the food. You had no clue what it did but you knew it stay away, a feeling running down your spine or whispers in your ear.

Denki though it would have been something small like coughing up fire or needing to go right to the bathroom. But no, he infected the whole class with a obsession potion that made them deadly in love with you.

A hair had feel into your cauldron and a few mess up and you had made new potion. Some could say you had made the first one of its kind.

They followed you around the whole night. Their eyes on you at each second with a new sprinkle in their eyes.

At the table they all started to bicker at each other for unknown reasons to you. The girls started to grabbed ahold of you and soon you were picked up from your seat with your arms pulled in different directions. Mina held on and tugged you to her, then on the other side was Uraraka who did the same thing.

“She should sit with me!” “No! She’s with us!”

You groaned and look at the two very confused at the new aura in the air. Soon you were grabbed by Kirishim with Mina “I think sweetie belongs with us.” Then another hand wrapped itself around your wrists. You see deku glaring at Kiri with a glare you had never seen before.

“She’s in our group, I advise you to let go.” Dekus grip tights and the waves and sounds of his quirk get louder. Your face drops and pull you hands away from both of them which takes them back.

You rub your wrists, “I’ll just eat in my room. You guys are all being weird….Did something happen today?” Looking around at all of them your stomach drops. All their gazes are full of hunger.

You pick up your tray and turn to walk out of them room. Something didn’t feel right and the universe was trying to warn you. Heading to the door iida rushed in front of you and blocked off the door way.

“I must ask you to stay! It’s rude to ignore your friends, especially when we’re all worried about you.” You give him and head tilt.

“Worried? Why, I’m fine. If anything I should be the one worried.”

Then a pair of arms wrap around your arm and a head rubs up against you, “We all just care about you, so much.”

“Ribbit- Yeah, can’t we care for you?” Froppy comes up behind her friend and stare at you strangely.

Then all of them are surrounded you and looking at you, then girls taking it to calm you down and baby you. Through all of this you are just very confused. Scared for their well being and your own. So looking around for anything to help you or distract yourself your eyes fall on something that makes your mouth hang open.

Oh. It all made sense.

A potion bottle from your collection with barely any potion left within it. You made a note that this is some sort of affection potion and hopefully it will go away in a few hours.

“I apologize, I see someone in here took some of my potion this morning and infected all of you with it. Don’t worry I’ll find a antidote, I just need some time.” You slip your arm away from her.

As soon as you try and escape pass them, Momo and Hagakure jump in front of you. “But, we aren’t in any harm.” Momo gave you a unusual smile.

“Y/n-San is always so nice to us, she’s too cute.” You blush when a new pair of arms wrapped around from behind and a chin pressed on your other shoulder.

It was Jirou and her face was almost as red as yours and with a shy face, almost a pout. “Stay with us for a few.”

As the girls started to circle around you and start to touch your hair, or body and giggle. The boys stare jealously and darkly at them, wishing they could touch you as well.

There was a small fight after between the BakuSquad, DekuSquad, and others that group together on who you should be with for the rest of the night. Whoever won you got squeezed all night between the groups and babied over.

The next school day was stressful because you got pulled around like a play toy. It was over every small thing, who you got to sit next to, who you get to train with, and even who got to walk you to class.

The main three in class was harder to deal with because they were the group “leaders”. You had bruises on your wrists on how much you got tugged around.

At one point Bakugou pulled you into him and rested is head on your shoulders while pressing you into him. His hands wrapped around your hips and you swear he was trying to kiss you.

There was only one class you had without them, and you used that to make antidote to use on them. So later that night you slipped it into the cookies you made and guilt tripped them into eating it.

“If you don’t love me, I get it. I must make horrible cookies.” You faked crying and rushed away with heart shaped cookies. The class ran after you and shoved them down their throats to make you happy. You smile as they all finish and waited for them to be normal again.

There was only one problem, it never worked.

“How do you feel?”

A shiver ran down your sides as a laugh that sounded off from deku, a smile that was too wide and creepy.

“As in love with you as ever.”

Mina came up and twirled your hair, “Must have made a “Antidote” to make us normal again. Silly you, there’s no changing us.”

She was right. You couldn’t figure out how to make them normal again. There was only hope to keep you going, to one day get them back.

[thatanimewriter]

CAT'S OUTTA THE BAG.

➳ request: i can see you've almost hit the 20 request limit, so i hope this one still gets in in time 👀 can i request claude von riegan, dimitri alexandre blaiddyd, dedue molinaro, felix fraldarius and ashe ubert (seperately) sneaking out at night to meet up with the reader (preferably genderneutral), who they are secretly dating and getting caught by their friends/a friend? hope you have a lovely day and take care! <3

➳ character/s: claude von riegan, dimitri alexandre blaiddyd, dude molinaro, felix fraldarius, ashe ubert

➳ warnings: kissing and cringe love stuff, implied aftercare (dedue), use of darling (ashe)

➳ notes: SLAYYYY i love this request ;v; some of them don't technically catch y'all, they just figure it out

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐕����𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍.

hilda caught you guys because she was sus of you guys for ages and claude wasn't giving her anything

ended up staying up late to 'do work' and heard you guys talking in hushed voices

desperately tried to open her door without it making that giant ass creak

claude didn't really care if she caught you guys, he wasn't ashamed of you

he just didn't want to make it super public so you'd both get bothered by people

"i knew it!" hilda whisper screamed, pointing at you both with the utmost betrayal. "ah, you got us," claude said, shrugging casually and draping an arm around your waist to pull you close. "can't tell anyone though, i'll make a courtyard announcement about that one time at the ball-" "fine, fine," hilda sighed. "how long have you guys been dating?" you glanced at claude to ask if it was ok to tell and he squeezed your side lightly for permission. "nearly a year," you admitted. "WHAT?!" "shush, people are trying to sleep," claude tutted, shaking his head disapprovingly.

── 𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐈 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐘𝐃.

he's not slick, he's too awkward that dedue figured it out ages ago but decided not to say anything

he got asked about it while weeding the lawns and turned bright red the whole time

dedue really didn't care, he just wanted to know if there was a second person he needed to look out for

on behalf of his king, he might have to protect you as well

dimitri would appreciate it but he likes being your saviour :))

"you're dating [name], right?" dedue asked monotonously as he carded through the grass looking for weeds. "what? no... we're not together- not that i would hate it, but-" "i saw you both last night," he interrupted. "under the stars." dimitri's face burned at the notion of getting caught with his partner on a date, but he continued to work on his weeding. "don't tell anyone, please..." dedue smirked at dimitri's embarrassment and nodded. "looks like i'll be needing to protect someone else as well." "that'd be appreciated, but i'd like it if they didn't need such protection if i'm around," dimitri admitted, covering his face with his hand.

── 𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐎.

it was ashe who caught him actually

dedue was cooking something for you that night cause you pestered him to stay the night

ashe came in for a late night snack and saw dedue cooking and was confused because dedue doesn't like the thing he's making

turns out he's making it for youuu

ashe doesn't get it entirely but honestly doesn't want to know do he gets his snack, says goodnight and goes to bed

"dedue?" ashe called softly, holding a candlelit lamp in his hand. dedue turned from his work to look at the smaller boy with a gentle smile. "ah, what are you doing this late?" ashe laughed awkwardly as he made his way to the cabinets. "i could ask you the same thing," he responded. "i just wanted a midnight snack." dedue hummed at ashe's answer as he dished your food into a bowl and moved to quickly wash the pans. "isn't that [name]'s favourite?" ashe wondered, staring at the bowl. "indeed. they wanted something to eat, so i took it upon myself to get them their favourite," dedue explained. ashe nodded slowly as he processed the information. "so... are you guys dating?" he wondered. the silver-haired man simply smiled in response.

── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒.

he will skin sylvain alive if he ever blabs to anyone about your relationship

he can't be caught being soft, even just a little bit-

y'all are hanging in the markets n he saw you looking at a necklace one of the merchants was selling

he went back to buy it for you, but not without sylvain coming along and ruining it

mans isn't happy about being discovered

"hey man, didn't you already come to the markets earlier today with [name]?" sylvain asked, following behind felix as they mulled about the stalls. "does it matter?" felix bit back, shoving the red-head by the shoulder. he stopped in front of the stall you'd found the necklace at and forced himself to suppress a relieved sigh. "oh, that's the necklace they were telling me about at lunch today," sylvain commented. his jaw dropped as felix picked it up and handed the money to the merchant. "wait, are you guys a thing? is that why you've been staying out late?" "shut up." "dang," sylvain ran a hand through his hair with disappointment. "i was gonna ask them to dance with me at the ball, too- OW!" the man doesn't think his arm will ever feel the same way again.

── 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓.

he's so in love with you, you're obligated to marry this man because i said so

he's meeting up with you to have night time picnics, but oops-

ignatz is there painting the scenery, but IT'S OK

you'll get a cool cute painting of yourselves made by ignatz himself by the end of the night

he won't ever tell on you guys though, so your secret is safe and you get free art

"hello darling," ashe greeted, pulling you in for a hug after he set the picnic basket down. "are you ok?" you nodded and leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. "mhmm. did you make dinner tonight? it smells nice." he smiled at your compliment and laid the picnic blanket down for you to sit. "i did, i tried to get here as fast as possible so it'd still be warm enough," he said, settling in beside you. as the night passed and you began finishing your date, you both froze at the sound of footsteps. looking to the source, you awkwardly smiled as ignatz emerged from the trees. "i'm so sorry for not announcing myself, but i came out here to paint and ended up with this..." ignatz shyly handed you his fresh painting, warning you about the wet paint. you and ashe smiled softly at the image and thanked him for the painting. "i won't tell anyone, i promise!"

[midnxght-sweet-time]

╰─▸ ❝ [ ⚠ 18+ 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗼 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁. ] ❞

» " 𝑇𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑓 ! " ◥

➤ 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬.

∷ 𝚂𝚢𝚙𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜 ▼

In a desperate act of hunger, you broke the Queen of hearts rule #089 : You must not eat the queen's tarts without her permission. Even as a non member of Heartslabyul, do you really think you could get away with such atrocity?

∷ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝚃𝚆 ▼

Suspense. ▪︎ Reader making dumb decisions. ▪︎ NSFW. ▪︎ Smut. ▪︎ Choking/use of collar. ▪︎ Overstimulation. ▪︎ Raw/unprotected sex ▪︎ Possessive sex. ▪︎ Angry sex. ▪︎ Dumbification. ▪︎ Oral sex. ▪︎ Cock-drunk/pussy-drunk. ▪︎ Squirting. ▪︎ Creampie. ▪︎ You get fold to a mating press. ▪︎ You're also being stuffed like a turkey. ▪︎ Rip your legs your never walking again. ▪︎ Riddle is sexually fustrated. ▪︎ Not proofread. ▪︎ Please I wrote this during English class–

— ● ✎ Note :

Listen to me— I had been suggested a reel of that one scene of Alice in Wonderland from the live action and from that I somehow got this big brain idea to commit to it. For those who seen it ya'll should know where this came from. This is actually my first time writing smut– in a more descriptive narrative sense, to those uhhhh horny connoisseurs, I'd like some feedback if any thx qwq. Anyways, have fun reading sweeties ♡

"Someone has stolen my tarts!!!"

The shocking sound of the doors being slammed open with such violent force made you swallow any comfort you had before and replace it with dread.

The once lively room of friends now went silent and still like a sudden interrupted record player. It wasn't the fact that the door was nearly knocked out of its hinges that scared everyone— no, whether that poor door were to ever move again was the least of anyones' worries; it was the fact that someone's or everyone's heads will roll to the ground… metaphorically speaking.

This situation however seems to differ from every other; of all the times you have stood still as a common bystander that got caught in the crossfire, this was entirely different.

Sweat rolled down the side of your face as your heart thumps uncontrollably as if looking for an escape. How your terrified heart screamed at you to run or hide and cower any way out of the dorm leader's piercing sharp gaze that bore through every person in this room all at once. Your lips straighten and your teeth sink into the gums behind it as a vain attempt at calming yourself from the beast that's approaching.

The taste of strawberry on your lips seems to be indigestible now…

The heels of polished boots were more than a warning— they were unspoken yet clear threats to anyone who even dares think of moving an inch besides him. Those gray-blue tinted orbs that flitz from one side to the other. Eyes furrowed at a certain orange haired male that had his strands standing on end with a mere click of his tongue.

"Trappola."

The first suspect was called. Ace immediately shot up from his lousy posture and stood tall before the vicious queen as if a card soldier on command. "Did you steal my tarts?" Like a man being held at gunpoint, Ace took a moment to keep himself steady before speaking, "No dorm leader." The eyes of Riddle stayed on him for a few seconds before continuing on the straight path of students to interrogate the next.

"Spades."

The other pair of cards was called. Unlike the heart, the spade was more self-assured. Deuce eyes at Riddle with an equally bold glare. He was more well adjusted to the situation as seen in his confident expression. Yet the slight shiver of his fingers and legs were opposing this. "I did not eat your tarts, dorm leader." That was all it took for Riddle to look satisfied with his answer. An approving nod was given as Deuce was left off the hook easily. It almost made your eyes twitch in envy.

Those bluish gray eyes went back to scanning the lounge of students. The look on Riddle's face seems to soften a bit now, but it was a mere facade that gives a false sense of security. The tightening of his fist was a dead give away to you that puts you on high alert, it was clear that he was still very pissed off and is dead set on finding the culprit. This caused gears in your head to start turning as you suddenly had a stray warning thought. You noticed how… out of character the tyrant suddenly was. You know how lenient he has been ever since his Overblot, but how he takes his time in searching for the tart thief feels more calculated.

Everyone knew Riddle doesn't take lightly to anyone stealing anything from him, especially his precious tarts. So for him to be slow and steady in this pace felt so off. It felt like he already knew who the culprit was and was simply going about a routine of interrogation. Maybe to coax the truth out of anyone by crushing them under the pressure like a bug at the bottom of his heels.

It sure had you sitting on the edge of your seat as if you were watching a horror movie. Your back sinking further into the velvet plush cushion of the seat as if you were trying to sink into it to get out of this situation. The way his intimidating presence prances around the room like a hunting predator had your eyes glued to his every move as you prayed internally for him to move on even if you knew the off chance of him ever letting this one broken rule slide was undoubtedly little to none.

As if the universe decided to screw you over, Riddle pretty much ignores the last two of the remaining dorm members and goes straight to you. His supposed short form towering over yours as he stood tall. A shadow was cast in front of you and Riddle from how the looming physical threat was preventing any light from comforting you at all. The only 'lumination' to this unwelcoming cover was the look in his eyes that metaphorically shines as he glares down at you and the anxiety burning through your entire being. Slowly did his face edge to yours as he bent down to take a good look at you. A slight widening takes over his eyes as if he wants you to take a good look at his pupils that had a glow of rage and suspicion. His lips move slowly as every word places an invisible pressure on your chest at the impending doom.

"Did you steal my tart?"

Gulping down whatever was left of your pride, your lips barely parted and were about to let out only hush whispers until the red tyrant spoke once again. "Open your mouth wide and speak, darling." It was like a purr and a growl. How his voice was harsh but the word 'wide' draped along his throat.

Inhaling a deep breath as if the enraged boy stole your breath away with just his mere presence. You gathered yourself and repeated the words that the previous suspects have heaved out, "No. Riddle."

But it was barely enough. Meanings behind those words were half baked and hardly convincing to the red queen's ears. As no matter how innocent and petite Riddle's short form may look, his mind was far from being naive. One brow rose up as he scanned your entire expression, making your breathing unsteady once more. It was so nerve-wracking how he was inching towards you. Those wide mad eyes coming closer and closer.

You looked to the side as your panicked gaze focused at the heart and the spade markings on the side of your friends' faces. Your pupils shake as if begging them to say or to help you. But no matter how desperate you may look, everyone stood still and watched as if they were just statues that were glued in place; unmoving and never dared utter a word, either by the fear of being targeted next or perhaps with a blank mind and no plans to save your sorry ass.

But as your sight shifted back, all your vision was covered with faded red of eye shadow on fair skin, as small locks of hair in the same red shade brushed against your eyelashes. The feeling of soft smooth lips connecting with your dry ones was what overwhelmed your senses. It was then you realize you were trapped within the tyrant's hold. Something slippery glides across the dry skin at the side of your mouth all the way to the other end with a slow sensual lick, wetting the surface and picking up the lingering flavor and syrup that you left behind.

A gentle touch on your cheek that almost caught you off guard. It caresses your skin gently yet holds you in place with how those fingernails gripped at your skin like an anchor and dragged it down to your chin. Your breath was stolen once again as you finally realized the unexpected osculation was a way of finding the evidence to your thievery.

As he finally pulls away with a thin trail of spittle connecting from his end of his tongue to your lips, you didn't notice how red and hot your cheeks burned with how fast your heart race; either from the fear of being caught or the sudden display of affection that made you almost forget you had a literal audience that starred at you two with wide eyes as if you were a victim placed on an unfair trial. But it doesn't seem Riddle was all too bothered by the latter.

All his focus was on you, furrowed anger displayed on his face as his eyes bore through yours once again but this time with a hint of an indescribable emotion that you can't seem to decipher. A small wet puckered noise rings in your ears as you notice that same wet muscle glided along his lips the same way it did with yours. With one final inhale, he slowly inches backwards with soft spoken words you didn't know you'd be terrified of hearing:

"It's strawberry jam."

Lewd sounds of skin slapping together was drowned with the dizzying sense of pleasure leaving you gasping for air and crying out incoherent sobs. The way your body jolts up with each pound of his hips against your ass, has you gripping onto the fabric of Riddle's tie that bound your hands together in a cute little bow.

"I w-was just hungry– I–"

Your words were cut off by the harsh slap and the knock of the tip of his girthy cock ramming up your cervix, shutting you up. The sound of wet squelches echoes through the room and those bluish gray eyes bore holes through yours with such intimidating presence. "Stop making excuses." The red head sneers, flickers of anger and hunger still laced in his eyes that made you shiver accompanied by his gloved hands that gripped onto your waist securely as he forced you through his harsh relentless thrusts.

He wouldn't hear you. The only thing he took into account is the non stop moaning that he can drive them out of you. You were just hungry. You would have asked for his permission or known it was his if he wasn't away doing other things, cooped up in his room for who knows how long.

…Or perhaps that bitter thought was what led you to spite him and stole the tart in hopes you could get away with it. You were planning to replace it, you swear! But Riddle would never listen and insist on punishing you tenfold.

You shift your head to the side, your neck aching with how tightly the collar squeezed at your throat. "Please— so- s'too much–" your senses have already been overloaded. You lost track of time with how long Riddle has been stuffing you with his cock. You could barely register his words as he muttered, "And you are to take it like how you took my tart." He has fucked you well past tears, past the point your voice have started to grow more hoarse. Your legs that once wrapped around his waist so obediently have now fallen limp; much to the dorm leader's annoyance, he had to hold them down for you.

"You don't know how to behave do you?" The tyrant grunts. The table rocking off all papers and pens he worked so hard to organize just to make space for you. He continues to feed you his girth, vigorously plunging into you that had you seeing stars. Fuck. His too much— you would beg and cry for him to stop if he didnt keep interrupting you with well-aimed thrusts that kept you moaning or even demand you shut up and take his cock like the good little slut you are.

It felt so good but the overstimulation made you feel like you could just burst.

He was ruthless in his punishment, making sure to make this as mind-breakingly numb as possible. The infamous collar was chained tightly on your neck to make sure you were reminded of your misdeeds with how little air you get to take in. Your mind is turned to mush with how nicely his length rubs against the plush walls of your leaking hole. Juices that were already squirted out mixed with cum that overflowed have been leaking down to the crack of your ass and to your back. Your sore legs are gripped so tightly as you've been folded into an overused mating press.

You felt his hand grabbing your jaw and slowly turning your head to face him. The touch was oddly gentle in contrast to the rough treatment you've been given. His eyes now gleam their color at you with a more softer look than that furrowed glare from before, yet it was still just as frightening with how sternly expressed he looks at you.

"Keep your eyes on me. You have yet to apologize for your actions."

Another harsh single slam against you, telling you he has reached another high. His tip pulsates and you moan at the feeling of another wave of cum pumping you full again. His cock sliding in and out subtly to get a bit more friction to stimulate the ejaculation, filling you up again with another load.

You heaved out a desperate gasp, "Ri-Riddle– 'm sorry."

Another savage slap of his balls on your ass. He starts fucking you again. Pushing you onto the table. He bends down to sink his teeth on your collarbone, planting another bite besides the dozens that are already littered on you from neck to shoulder, some even on your thighs. He holds onto that part of your skin like a rabid animal that had been starved— perhaps he was seeing as how you took the one thing other than you he was looking forward to after work. Your cunt already all puffy and swollen from the abuse, yet it sucks in his dick as if yearning for more.

"Queen of hearts– rule- fuck, rule #053. You w-will replace what you stole— but I want… your integrity."

Inhaling your scent, his head is still buried in your neck. Your hands that were bound have given up the struggle and instead clawed at your own palm. The fabric felt like it was part of you now. You felt like a folded origami with how long you've stayed in such a position. Squirming underneath your queen that holds you so possessively, completely at his mercy. His girth and cream stretching you and keeping you full, you're not sure if you want him to ever pull out and be emptied.

You can feel every heavy vein that drags along your slippery slick walls. You were so very sensitive, panting like a dog. Perhaps this was your third— no… fifth orgasm? You really can't recall anymore when you're squirting out like a hose. Your juices glistened and coats his whole length. Lubricating it so well his thrusts were so smooth but still so rough.

"You are to obey these rules. Understood?"

"Y–yes-!"

Your vision gets hazy as you keep rocking on his dick, your cunt being constantly destroyed from the inside out. You were completely fucked dumb. Riddle really has no intention of stopping until your sweet little mind can think of nothing but the pure stifling bliss his putting you through or til the clock strikes midnight and your pussy is left overflowing with his cum as a mark of your discipline.

[cdragons]

Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Jace is delulu, tiny!Aemond is kind of a jerk in this one, Dark Themes, shit is going down, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also, translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also, I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: I'M BACKKKKKK! I am so sorry for leaving this story alone for so long! I have been getting into other fandoms and making new stories because of those fandoms. But the two new trailers for HOTD season 2 brought me back! I swear I will be better at updating this story! But on the bright side, I made this chapter over 5k word length! I own only the plot and OCs of this story, please do not repost without my permission.

Despite living in the Red Keep for nearly your entire life, you still felt hopelessly lost as you walked down the corridors beside the prince. Like you and Aemond, the sight of you walking side by side with the heir of the Iron Throne’s firstborn son made for an unusual sight for the courtiers of the Royal Family. But this was not the case with the serving staff, which comprised smallfolk. Your mother was a favored companion by Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. Despite coming from such humble beginnings, Doreah of Essos became a highly regarded member of the serving staff belonging to the House of Targaryen. All the maids respected your mother, while most stewards who served under knights idolized your father. And as your mother’s daughter, they were very used to the vision of one of their humble sewists’ children playing with the Royal children.

As a result, no one so much as batted an eye when they saw you walking down the halls directly beside Prince Jacaerys. It would have made a much more unusual sight if your presence was absent by either his or his uncle’s side. The older staff bowed their heads in respect to the prince while also flashing a small but kind smile at you. The younger serving girls were still too new in the ways of the court and beamed with broad smiles at the sight of you before acknowledging Jace. You grinned back as you inwardly beamed at the knowledge that Head Septa Marlow was with you.

She would have scolded those girls fiercely if she had caught them greeting an apprentice seamstress before the prince.

You turned your head to glance at your childhood friend, who happened to be second in line for the Iron Throne, as you both made your way to his mother’s chambers. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the troubled expression on his face. Just a few minutes ago, he was practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you left Aemond alone in the Godswood. But now it felt as if he was a thousand miles away from you despite being so close. Having been by his side since his birth, you always felt a sense of protectiveness toward the young prince. No matter his station, you were a month past your third name-day when he was brought into this world. It was natural that you were perspective to his shifting moods.

“Jace?” you softly called out to him. You were relieved to have brought him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

Jacaerys stopped in the middle of the stone corridor. Staring at you with those large brown eyes, he looked much older than his actual age. When someone as happy and bright as Jace became somber, it was always a reason to worry. Was Rhaenyra all right? Had he been listening to those awful rumors of his true birth?

“Ashi’,” he began, “what were you and Aemond discussing in the Godswoods’ Heart Tree?”

Ah, so that’s what this is about.

You inwardly grimaced as you realized how foolish you were to worry. With Aemond and Jace, it was always something one did to the other. And almost every time, it was up to you to stop their squabbling by being forced into the middle. You were not as blind as everyone in the castle liked to believe you were. You knew that both boys had an unhealthy attachment to you for whatever reason they conjured in their minds. Reasons that were only encouraged by their mothers.

You were still cross when they interrupted you and your mother’s reunion with your father. The matter was really very stupid. Jace had made fun of Aemond for not having a dragon during their family supper with the King. However, Jace only did so because Aemond and Aegon were snickering to themselves about how fat Princess Rhaenyra had grown due to her third pregnancy.

It didn’t make any difference to you, in all honesty. All you remembered from that time was that your time with your beloved father was forcibly cut short. To make matters worse, the two boys’ outbursts startled your mother, and the stress was so terrible that it nearly caused her to faint.

As a result, you decided not to speak to either boy for nearly two weeks. It had grown to the point where Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra practically begged you to forgive their sons—but even a royal command would not budge you. It did not matter how many blueberry tarts or honey cakes they gave for your forgiveness. You made it very clear that you would resolve never to speak to either boy unless they sincerely apologized to your mother for the awful fright they gave her. You finally resumed your friendship with them after your mother asked you herself to forgive them after Aemond gifted her a lovely bouquet of blue and purple hyacinths, and Jace gifted her a basket full of her favorite honey lemon cakes.

“Jace,” you groaned, “you cannot be serious.”

“Ashi’, you’ve been spending so much time with him lately. I feel like I don’t ever get to see you anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him as you sped up your pace to reach their destination. You only made it a few meters from where you were earlier before Jacaerys caught up to you and firmly grasped your wrist to keep you in place.

“I’m serious, Ashi’!” he insisted. “Unless it’s for fittings or when the Maester seeks your help teaching us High Valyrian, I rarely ever see you anymore!” His eyes had a wet sheen in the light, and his lip quivered slightly. “I miss you. Luke misses you. And so does Mother and Father!”

If the pitiful sight was enough to fill you with guilt, his next question nearly broke your heart.

“Do you – do you still consider me your friend?”

“Oh, Jace-” you pulled your younger friend into your arms “- of course I do. I’ve been so busy with my duties and my mother’s health. She and Princess Rhaenys have been so concerned over Lady Laena’s pregnancy and are trying to convince Prince Daemon to travel to Driftmark for the baby’s arrival.”

Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, eager to feel your warmth. If the gods were kind, time would stop, and he and you would stay like this forever. But he became sad at the mention of his Aunt Laena. He had heard his father recount hundreds of stories of their time together at Driftmark in their youth. Jace knew his father missed his sister terribly, and he was sure she missed him the same.

You noticed your friend’s change in behavior. You looked at him with concerned eyes, and his heart began to race at your care for him.

“Oh, Jace,” you whispered, “have I upset you somehow? I did not mean to!”

Jace frantically shook his head. “No, Ashi’! I just wondered…do you think I’ll ever meet my Aunt Laena?” he softly asked. “Do you think she’ll like me? Can you tell me more about my cousins?”

You rolled your eyes at his request. He had yet to do so despite your advice for Jace to send a raven or two to his cousins. You hadn’t seen the twins for many years, but the three of you wrote to each other so often that it felt like you would recognize them by how they spoke alone.

“I’m sure she and your cousins will adore you, Jace. Baela is excited about her new sibling. She says she’s close to riding Moondancer! Once she gets big enough, she hopes to ride her with Rhaena!”

Jace wondered how you’d react if you knew he didn’t write to his cousins because he was scared they wouldn’t like him. To be honest, he didn’t really care about them at all. He only cared about the way you smiled at him, and only him, when he asked.

“Mother!”

Still seated at her dark-stained ebony-wood desk, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen scribbled away with her black swan’s feather quill, nearly hidden behind stacks of dusty tomes and piles of scrolls from across the Seven Kingdoms and, despite being heavy with child, remained to be one of the most exquisite beauties across the realm. Hearing her eldest son’s voice, she looked up from her papers and smiled at the two children standing in her chambers' doorway.

“Jace! You made it and brought our little Lady Ashirri with you.”

You looked down at your feet as your cheeks slightly pinkened at the attention brought to you. Princess Rhaenyra was one of your mother’s closest friends and one of the few belonging to the noble houses that approved of your father’s rise in status. But his title was only in name, and so many in the keep look down on him with ill-hidden disdain. And as a result, many in the keep looked down on you with the same contempt and disgust.

The image of Lord Otto Hightower’s cold and judging eyes gazing down at you with arrogance came to mind before you could block it out.

You lifted your skirts and bowed in a deep curtsy in respect for Princess Rhaenyra. “Yes, my princess. Prince Jacaerys told me that you required my assistance with something?”

Princess Rhaenyra warmly smiled and laughed. “Yes. My husband seems at a crossroads in deciding which fabrics best suit his sister. Although, as you can see, he is being unnecessarily picky about it all.”

Her husband, Prince Consort Laenor of House Velaryon, stood beside your mother with his arms spread wide apart. On each arm were textiles of luxurious materials and superb stitching patterns. His close friend and confidant, Ser Qarl Correy, stood close behind him. The crown princess spoke truthfully as the entire room was filled with dozens of fabric bolts, from brilliant orange-marigold Dornish satin to iridescent light-azure Yi Tish silk. Your eyes were filled with excitement and wonder at the magnificent sight. You raced to touch the imported textiles.

“Is this silk truly from Yi Ti?” you softly whispered while carefully stroking the surface with one finger. “It looks almost too pretty to be real. This color would beautifully complement Lady Laena’s complexion and silver curls.”

Your mother and Prince Laenor smiled in agreement. It was softer than anything you’ve ever touched. Yi Tish silk was famous for its textile quality. One bolt was worth double your mother’s monthly wage at the Red Keep. The color alone was mastery at its finest. You knew from personal experience that blue was an incredibly tricky dye to handle. Although it was a primary color, it was rare in nature. You had to devote hours, if not days, to find the correct materials to yield the desired tone and shade properly. But that work is useless if the dye ends up damaging the fabric. Dark blue was one matter – it was still stunning, and many nobles would pay a hefty amount of coin for it. But to own such beauty, you wouldn’t dare imagine the price for a few yards, let alone an entire bolt.

“Fine eye as always, little lady,” Laenor jovially laughed. “Yes, I’m sure at least one of these fabrics will make a suitable dress for my sister before she gifts me another niece or nephew. I’m afraid your mother is very cross with me at the moment. Any delay in choosing the fabric will result in her being unable to finish the dress before the baby is born.”

“Lady Laena will need it to be loose and not so tight around her waist,” you spoke matter-of-factly. “Muña says that most pregnant women have rashes and inflammations after giving birth, so the dress must be made of a fabric that won’t cause irritation. Let’s see…excuse me for a moment?”

 You took out the small leather-bound journal Kepa gave you as a gift from one of his many voyages with Lord Corlys that you kept in your dress pocket, along with a small stick of charcoal. You drew out the image as quickly as possible whenever inspiration struck, regardless of the time or place. It was a habit that could lead to horrible misunderstandings, but being scolded and berated mattered little to you if it meant you could train yourself to be half as talented a seamstress as your mother.

After flipping past all your previous ideas, you finally spotted a blank page. Racing to your mother’s side for help, you excitedly shoved the journal in her face.

You thought aloud and drew out the concept simultaneously. “I think it should be blue. Even if Lady Laena married Prince Daemon, she is still a Velaryon by birth! Maybe if we chose a material that looks like water, it would make her feel closer to Driftmark and Lady Rhaenys!”

Doreah beamed from ear to ear as she crouched down and took you in a tight embrace. It filled her with such joy to know her daughter had developed such a tender and compassionate heart. You were a deeply empathetic girl who always considered the needs of others before your own. Her little pearl had a heart of gold that shone through the darkest storms. She planted a loud kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my little pearl,” her eyes twinkled as she cupped your cheeks. “I have just the fabric in mind for it.”

Lady Doreah Pyke pulled out a large bolt of shimmering azure blue silk velvet. The rippled pattern and texture matched the transcendent and melancholy shores that surrounded High Tide. You gasped in delight at the sight of it. It was exactly the color you imagined! You gently caressed the hand-pleated panels, expecting it to feel crinkly and cheap despite its luster. But the fabric sheen and its soft, velvety texture made you want to wrap yourself with it like a warm blanket.

Your mother thoughtfully inspected the fabric. “Yes, this will be perfect. However, I think instead of a dress, it may be better to be used as a cloak. If the result is as beautiful as my little pearl envisions it to be, it would be a shame to be a dress for one lady. If it is a cloak, it can be passed down from mother to daughter.”

“An heirloom cloak…” you murmured in excitement. Your mother was a genius. “It sounds so romantic…the waves should be hand-painted and glass beads strung and stitched into the fabric. Oh, Lady Laena will look like a sea goddess! Would she like it enough to pass it down to Ladies Baela or Rhaena?”

Doreah chuckled at your delight and booped your nose. “She will love it, my darling – especially because you will be helping me make it.”

“A wonderful idea!” exclaimed Laenor. “Who better than our lovely Doreah and her little pearl to complete the task?”

“Really?” you gasped. To work beside your mother on such a prestigious project…was like a dream too good to be true. “Mother, do you…do you truly think I am ready?”

Jace jumped to his friend’s side to hug her. “Ashirri! This is wonderful! You and Lady Pyke will make the most beautiful cloak in the Seven Kingdoms - I know it!”

Rhaenyra and Laenor glanced knowingly at their son’s support for his dearest childhood companion. Everyone in the Red Keep knew of Jacaerys Velaryon's infatuation with Ashirri Pyke. If only the gods had allowed their stations to be so different. It seemed cruel to let two young souls meet and grow beside one another without the hope or possibility of love being borne.

You beamed at Jace with a brilliant smile that shone with so much radiance that looking at you felt nothing less than sin. You took his hand in yours as you squeezed his hand in silent thanks and appreciation for his words. In the young prince’s eyes, you were more heavenly than the Maiden herself. He hopes to be seen as strong as the Warrior in yours one day.

“Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros,” you said in your mother’s native tongue, softly stroking your thumb on his skin as a rosy hue bloomed on Jace’s cheeks. “Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī!”

You were about to leave before stopping and tracing back your steps to bow to Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Laenor quickly. Your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment from forgetting such basic etiquette.

“My princess, my prince, forgive me for not remembering to thank you for granting me this opportunity and forgetting to leave before you dismissed me. I was too caught up in my excitement. But, I swear that I will not let you down.”

The adults in the room shared amused expressions at your excitement. Ashirri Pyke’s transparent honesty and sweet nature were so refreshing to not only the Targaryen Princess and her prince consort husband but also the entire Royal Family. She was the perfect combination of her parents’ personalities. From Hotho, you adopted your father’s unwavering honesty and sense of justice. From Doreah, you were your mother’s copy in sweetness and purity. You were a highborn noble in all but birth and title.

Rhaenyra waved off your apology and nodded. “No need for apologies, little pearl. Run along. There is work that needs to be done, and your mother and I still have things to discuss between old friends.”

You pouted to hear that your mother would not be joining you. After all, this was a very important job, and you had hoped this would provide an opportunity to learn more of your mother’s secrets in her trade. But who were you to refuse a princess’ orders? You bowed once more before waving goodbye to Jace and everyone in the room before racing to your chambers. The disappointment you felt moments before was washed away by the jittering and buzz of your creativity rushing through your mind.

The waves would have to be hand-painted – that goes without saying. But should you paint silver instead of ivory for the sea foam? And did you have a steady enough hand to replicate each pattern perfectly? You were going to need a template to trace it.

You were going to need dozens if not hundreds, of beads ranging from violet to turquoise to teal. Were there any artisans in Kings Landing that could make such a large quantity? Were there any skilled enough to ensure the glass and crystals would yield such clarity and durability? You may need to ask Kepa if he made any glassmaker friends from Essos or the Free Cities.

Could you dip into your personal collection of sea crystals and pearls? Mother would be cross with you, but it would look so splendid against the fabric!

While racing down the many halls and past the flurry of chambermaids and squires, you came across Aemond. His trademark frown on his freckled face quickly turned to a kind smile.

“Ashirri! Mother wants to–”

But you did not have time to stop and quickly ran past him. You interrupted him with an apology.

“Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie import! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon!”

Aemond owlishly blinked before realizing you had spoken to him in High Valyrian. He took a few moments to mentally translate what you said before calling out your name and asking you to explain.

“Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?”

But when he turned, you were nowhere in sight, and he was left alone in the middle of the stone corridor. His shoulders slumped in deep disappointment at seeing you running away from him. But he supposed that such a slight could be forgiven since you were his loveliest and dearest friend. On the plus side, he was gifted with the sight of how the sunshine rays peering through the windows darted your glossy locks and wrapped you in a warm halo that brought out even more of your natural charm and prettiness.

As soon as you reached your room, you shut the door and grabbed every colored charcoal stick you’ve been gifted since you began learning your letters. Grabbing your big sketchbook, you immediately began jotting down your vision. By the time your mother joined you, your entire floor was covered with pages filled with a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, violets, and silver. Doreah was ecstatic of the display of your budding talent and took you in her arms for a tight hug.

The next few weeks were the most thrilling of your young life. You would spend hours on end with your mother, going over and debating which colors would match the tone of the cloak. Your mother found out about your idea to incorporate your pearls in the stitching, and she gave you a lecture that put all her past scoldings to shame. Eventually, you relented. In truth, you were a tad reluctant to part with your pearls. Each pearl was a gift from your beloved kepa for each country he visited. He said it was his way of giving you a tiny part of the world to his little pearl.

Because you were so busy trimming and stitching, you barely had time to read with Aemond under the Heart Tree in the Godswood or watch Jace practice his sword fighting with Ser Harwin Strong. You and your mother could only be removed from the cloak when either Queen Alicent or Princess Rhaenyra ordered your presence. They often expressed their woes at your decreased presence in court. As a result, your mother would take small breaks to share tea with Queen Alicent to discuss your progress as a seamstress, or she would get called by Princess Rhaenyra to her chambers so that they may speak their most private thoughts and troubles in High Valyrian.

You would often escape their orders by spending time with Princess Helaena. She would sneak into your workspace to bring her own embroidery and ask for your guidance with the more intricate patterns. While most of the court found the second princess a bit…odd – you took to her presence like green to pink. The two of you greatly differed in personality, but that made your friendship with her all the more special. You always made sure to treat her with kind words and common courtesy.

The most rude you had been to her was when she showed you a massive spider in her hands, and you loudly shrieked before crawling under your bed as a reflex. It took a few minutes before you could rejoin her. When she asked if you liked to hold Gerald the Spider, you took your father’s thickest riding gloves before you went near the beast.

You only held Gerald in your palms a few moments before you cried and begged Helaena to remove him from your person. But despite the terrors you got from Gerald the Spider that night, it was worth it if Helaena could smile as happily as she had when you agreed. She was so pleased that she didn’t correct you when you called her by the nickname you made for her, ‘Hel.’ In fact, you were almost certain that the nickname made her happier than you holding the spider.

But despite the peace these past few weeks have brought you and your family, such joy was not granted to the rest of your friends. Trouble was brewing in the Red Keep for House Targaryen – a fact you were unaware of until much later. You were returning from the rookery after being notified of receiving a letter from Baela. She was so excited about the arrival of her new sibling. You were reading the letter until you heard soft cries in the library. Searching for the source, you were shocked to find Aemond crying in a secluded section of the Royal Library. Distressed at your friend’s tears, you immediately knelt and hugged him close to you.

Clinging to your arms like you were his anchor, you could only make out the words: ‘pig’ and ‘dread.’ When you voiced your confusion, Aemond explained once more.

“They gave me a pig!” he barked, wiping away the angry tears from his violet eyes. “They said they found a dragon for me, and it was a pig! The ‘Pink Dread’ they called it!”

You lowered his head to the crook of your shoulder. “Aemond, who’s ‘they’?” you softly asked.

“Aegon! Who else?” he exclaimed. Your simple linen frock muffled his yells. “My sister’s bastards were there, too!”

Your blood chilled. He couldn’t mean…Jace wasn’t…

“Aemond, you can’t say such things,” you warned. “It’s considered treason by your father’s laws.”

But Aemond wasn’t listening. “I hate those bastards. They shouldn’t carry the Targaryen name. Their last name should be ‘Waters.’ It’s the name that bastards born in the Crownlands carry. Northern bastards are called ‘Snow,’ ‘Sand’ for Dorne, ‘Flowers’ for the Reach–”

“‘Pyke’ for the Iron Islands,” you snapped and let him go. “Am I a bastard, Aemond? Am I what you hate? Do you hate my father?”

Aemond was shocked at your venomous tone. When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to make amends.

He shook his head. “My pearl…no, no, no,” he said. “You aren’t a bastard. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about–”

You clenched your fists and stood on your feet. “I know who you were talking about! That does not make it right!”

Aemond was getting angry. Why weren’t you taking his side? Had his whore of a sister already poisoned you against him? Had Jace already dirtied you with his filthy, bastard blood? He stood up and stared you down with fury in those beautiful violet eyes that you once so adored. But all you saw was his grandfather.

“Your father is a bastard,” he stated matter-of-factly. “He was a bastard from the Iron Islands that Lord Greyjoy didn’t want! He wasn’t worthy of his noble father’s house name, so he is named ‘Pyke’!”

You shook your head. “There is more to family than names and blood. I am neither a Targaryen nor a Velaryon. I do not carry a speck of your noble house’s blood, but I consider you and Jace my dearest friends! To me, you are my brothers! You and him are my family because I love you, not because of blood! Does that count for anything?”

“I never thought of you as a sister,” he spat out. “Not once did I consider you family.”

Devastation overwhelms your broken heart as tears flood your and Aemond’s eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand, but you step back. Once more, he tries to keep you closer to him, but you turn around and run to the door. When you reach it, he calls out your name and begs you to let him explain. Once more, you turn to face him to see he has not moved an inch. You feel so small and insignificant underneath the massive stone framework, but you summoned the sea of hurt and rage crashing inside your heart.

“I used to wonder how a horrible and mean-spirited man like Otto Hightower could be the grandsire of such a sweet boy,” your voice trembled, but you continued to steel yourself. “I thought…you were smart enough not to listen to such horrible things. I thought you were my friend. But I was wrong. I was so horribly wrong. What your brother, Jace, and Luke had done to you was cruel and unfair. But Aemond…what you had become…I-I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

With that being the final word, you raced to your mother’s chambers. You cried into her skirts and told her what happened – of the Pink Dread, Aemond’s cruel transformation, and the ruin of your friendship with him. You sobbed out your wish to leave the Red Keep and never return.

Doreah Pyke immediately thought of what Princess Rhaenyra had informed her in the afternoon. ‘Nyra told her that she would be moving her family to Dragonstone. Each day since her failed attempt to match Jace with Helaena, the Red Keep feels less safe and more hostile to her and her children. Since Harwin assaulted Ser Cole, tensions between the princess and the queen have reached an all-time high.

“Come with me,” her princess begged Doreah. “Come with my family to Dragonstone.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra,” whispered Doreah, “I don’t know. Dragonstone is so far from King’s Landing. And Ali would never–”

“Alicent is becoming more like her father each day,” Rhaenyra interjected. “She wants to put her son on my father’s throne – both she and her father are conspiring against me.”

Rhaenyra clasped Doreah’s hands in her own. “I know you want to believe she is the same girl from our youth. But Otto Hightower has sunk his poisoned claws in her and will stop at nothing to crown Aegon when my father passes. I need people I can trust by my side. People like you, my sweet Dory, and your husband.”

“…But Ashirri, my pearl,” sighed Doreah. “She will be so devastated. She grew up running in these halls, playing in the Godswoods, exploring this castle’s corners and shadows. This is her home.”

“Your daughter will flourish wherever she goes,” insists Rhaenyra. “She will never be alone – not with Jace, Luke, and Joffery by her side. And forgive me for what I am about to say, my friend, but…King’s Landing no longer agrees with you as it used to.”

Doreah sighed and gazed out the window with slumped shoulders. What her princess said was true but hard to hear. As she grew older, she found the air and noise outside the Red Keep more sour and rancid. It made her miss the clean and fresh sea breeze in Essos. Rhaenyra was not the only one who had noticed Doreah’s melancholy. Hotho, her beloved Iron Knight, has remained in King’s Landing after learning of her despondence. Her husband implores her to care more for her health – if not for herself, but their daughter.

Doreah waved off their concerns, but perhaps…they had a point. Stroking your hair to calm you down, your mother asked if you would be open to the possibility of moving to Dragonstone. She reassured you that she and your father would be there with you and that you would still be around Jace, Luke, and Joffery if you ever felt lonely.

You agreed before she finished and immediately started packing. By the end of the month, you had not spoken another word to Aemond and left with Princess Rhaenyra and her family to Dragonstone. You did not look back. You wanted to leave King’s Landing and Aemond as soon as possible. You wanted to leave this wretched castle and have peace once more.

While others stared at the obsidian castle with trepidation, you felt hope. Unpacking your things from your trunk and knapsack, you were determined to leave behind all the political headaches and focus solely on stitching with your mother and sailing with your father.

If only life could be that simple.

Translations:

Muña - mother

Kepa - father

Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros…Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī – “Thank you, dear friend…Mother, we must get to work at once! I will bet going first!”

Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie importance! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon! – “I am sorry, Aemond. But my mother and Prince Laenor gave me something of great importance! I have to get to work right away!”

Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?” – “Wait! What do you mean?”

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[fallenclan]

re-reading this current arc, there's a moment that caught my eye. in pt. 2 of moon 256(?), darkstone says to honeysong something along the lines of 'you're lucky you get to be here [ in the glow cave ], most warriors don't get the chance too'. which reminded me how the ( canon ) Clans as a whole lost the tradition of apprentices traveling/visiting the moonstone when they left the forest territories. there's a whole article about this 'lost tradition' on the warrior's website ( i only know this because i googled it to fact check, lmaoo ). and in that article, it describes why it was important - mainly to reinforce awe in starclan and their warrior ancestors - and so that apprentices get a chance to travel beyond their Clan and interact with non-Clan cats.

i find this really interesting; especially when crafting my own lore + traditions. so i want to wonder with you, would fallenclan have followed this tradition? would scorchstar have ever enforced this ( would her mother have told this tradition among her tales of the Clans )? or would another leader/cat have done so? would anything change lore-wise if fallenclan/other clans did this tradition?

on a side note, something really nostalgic to me is when leaders would seek guidance from the moon-stone. have any leaders gone to the glow cave by themselves or with others to seek guidance with the stars? i feel like maplestar would have, with silverbelly. <3

Also also, this is the second time i've sent an ask right after you answer someone else's, i don't mean to pounce on ya like that LMAOO i-ve been typing for like 10 minutes plss

- 🍂

good question!!! to be honest, this isn't something I've given a lot of thought to, but I think generally it's just the medicine cats that speak to Starclan--the leaders get to as well, but it's only when they receive their lives that they do so. if they really need to ask Starclan for guidance, the medicine cat does so on their behalf, though it isn't a common thing. Starclan really is just a bunch of dead cats, they aren't all-knowing, but sometimes they do get stuff that they'll pass along--warnings in the form of omens, etc. They have their own lives in Starclan and they aren't there solely to help out the living.

If it was a practice in Boughclan/Tuftclan, Scorchstar didn't know about it. Apprentices probably don't go to speak to Starclan--unless they sneak out to do so, which is possible but not really likely, as it's. I don't want to say Taboo to speak to Starclan without permission, but Frowned Upon maybe? like I said, I haven't thought about this much at all, I probably should get on that XD

[marvelsdc22]

What's A Soulmate?

Intro: Here it is, the winner of the poll, I hope to have the other one posted in the next few weeks, enjoy~

Summary: Your first year at Abbott is more chaotic than you expected, the unexpected subject of soulmates gets brought up, life is black and white until you've met and start to fall for your soulmate.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Small bout of violence, heated argument, let me know if I missed anything.

Walking into Abbott Elementary for the first time after being hired as the new librarian was a lot more chaotic than you had initially thought it would be, there were several OSHA violations you could already see, it smelled like something had died, there was a camera crew following around a tall woman with long hair that was black on top that went into an ombre of white that you assumed was actually blonde or at least a light brown, not like you knew what those colors actually looked like, you had yet to fall in love with someone that was your soulmate, so you were stuck seeing the world in black and white.

Soulmates were dumb in your opinion, why couldn’t the universe let you test the waters with different loves instead of just picking one true love without your permission, you could be stuck with a clown for all you knew! Nothing against them, but their antics would get old real fast.

Heading into the door on your left, you saw the woman you saw a moment ago deeply engrossed with her phone, knocking on the doorframe to get her attention “Can I help you?” She asked, looking you up and down “Yeah, I’m the new librarian, I’m looking for Miss Coleman?” You said, watching as a smile lit up her face and she started looking at you with newfound interest.

“Well, don’t you look scrumptious” she said, smiling at you and standing from her seat “Ava Coleman, the one you’re looking for” she winked, shaking your hand when you took the one she offered “Let me show you around, get you settled in” she said, leading you out of the room with your face burning from her flirting.

At the end of the tour, you arrived at the library “This is your territory, do whatever you want with it, if you need anything, ask someone else” Ava said before leaving, shutting the door behind her and leaving you to silence and the couple shelves of books that the school had, sighing, you set your stuff down behind the counter, making a mental note to get yourself a safe or small storage to keep your stuff safe and secure throughout the day before grabbing your tablet and going to take inventory of what all you had book wise so you knew where to start.

You don’t know how much time had passed before you heard the door open and two voices “I don’t think he’s the one, Barb, it’s been weeks and still no colors” one voice said “Just keep trying-Oh! Hello there!” The one you assumed was Barb said when you came out from behind the bookcase you had been behind, clutching the tablet to your chest as you looked at the two women, one looking a bit older with a bob haircut and a sweet smile, while the other had long hair with a look of annoyance on her face.

“You must be the new librarian, I’m Barbara” Barbara introduced, holding her hand out towards you “Oh, yes, I’m Y/N it’s nice to meet you” you smiled, shaking her offered hand then looking at the other woman and offering your hand to her, her not shaking it until Barbara nudged her side “Melissa” she said bluntly, shaking your hand unwillingly and shoving her hands into her pockets after.

Clearing your throat, you ran a hand through your hair as you thought of what to say, glancing down at your tablet “I noticed there wasn’t too many books to choose from, let me know if you guys have any suggestions so I can get some more” you said, offering them a small smile and catching Melissa’s eyes widening for a split second “That’s a wonderful idea, I’ll see what all my class wants and bring you the list later” Barbara smiled, watching as your smile widened “Awesome! I should get back to it, but it was lovely meeting you two” you said, offering a small wave before heading off towards the counter, leaving Melissa and Barbara to continue their conversation in hushed whispers.

XXXXX

Two weeks had passed since your first day, you had become fast friends with Jacob, the two of you having a lot of things in common, this in turn meaning you were close with Janine, she was nice but a little too peppy for your taste, Barbara was super sweet and you enjoyed your early morning talks in the breakroom, Gregory was nice but he had yet to come out of his shell with you, you had avoided Ava and her flirting at all cost, then there was Melissa, she was still kind of a mystery to you but you can’t help but be drawn to her, she came into the library during her kids recess “So I can have some peace and quiet” she had told you when you asked, although she mostly talked to you while you worked on your own tasks but you weren’t going to call her out.

Coming into school, you were trying to balance all your stuff along with two big boxes in your arms “Do you need help?” A teasing voice asked, causing you to jump slightly “It would be appreciated” you conceded, feeling one of the boxes being taken and Melissa’s face appearing in front of you with a small smile “Jeez hon, what’s in these?” She asked, heading inside when you managed to open the school’s front door “You remember when I had you guys make a list?” You asked, fumbling with your keys for a moment before managing to unlock and push the door to the library open.

“You’re kidding” Melissa said, astonished as she set the box she was carrying down on the counter and opening it, seeing it filled with books “Did Ava actually give you the money for this?” She asked, watching as you set the box you were carrying down, shaking your head “No, I did, the kids needed more reading material” you said, knowing that you got most for cheap at thrift stores, looking at Melissa when she stayed silent and seeing her staring at you like she was seeing you in a new light and you couldn’t help but see the world a little brighter after that.

XXXXX

As the weeks went by, you slowly started to see in more color, you knew Melissa was your soulmate, but you were too scared to do anything about it, maybe she was yours but you weren’t hers, you had heard of that happening before, it was extremely rare but maybe you were one of those rare cases? You didn’t want to find that out and embarrass yourself.

Opting instead to just ignore the fact it was happening, maybe you could save yourself the embarrassment and transfer schools- “Y/N! How are you doing, dear?” Barbara asked, leading her class behind her and pulling you out of your thoughts “Good morning, Mrs. Howard, I’m doing alright, are the kids here for new books?” You smiled, knowing that she brought her kids by once a week to return their books and get a new one, gesturing to the bookshelves that were now almost fully stocked thanks to everyone’s help after Melissa blabbed about what you had done for them and the kids.

“Mx. Y/L/N?” You heard a quiet voice ask, turning your attention to the small group of kindergarteners that had stayed behind “Yes Dante?” You asked the little boy that had gained your attention to them “What’s a soulmate?” Dante asked, catching you off guard since you weren’t expecting that deep of a question “Oh, well…” You said, trying to think of a way to explain it so a group of kindergarteners could understand.

“So, you all know how right now you can only see in black and white?” You asked after a beat of silence, watching them all nod “Well, when you start to fall in love with your soulmate, your world starts to slowly fill with color then one day everything is bright and colorful” you explained, watching as they discussed amongst each other before another kid, Sammy, spoke up “Have you found your soulmate yet, Mx. Y/L/N?”

Damn these kids were hitting you with all the big questions and all before you’ve had more than a sip of your quickly cooling coffee, glancing over when you heard the door open and unable to help the smile that appeared on your face as Melissa walked in, her engrossed in her phone until she felt your eyes on her, catching your eyes before you turned to the small group of kids “I think I just might’ve” you said, laughing when the kids either squealed or fake gagged, looking over at Melissa who was looking at you with a smile as you interacted with the kids, the redness of her hair starting to get lighter and thinking you caught a glimpse of her gorgeous blue eyes.

XXXXX

Later on that week, you were heading for the breakroom to get yourself another cup of nasty dirty bean water, man you really needed to get up earlier so you could make yourself at least one decent cup to get through the day, so lost in your thoughts that you almost missed the two voices coming from the breakroom.

“I just don’t know what to do, Barb, I think he’s going to propose to me” you heard Melissa say, feeling your heart start to sink at her words “Well, you said you were finally starting to see colors, do you think it’s because of him?” Barbara asked, shifting in her seat to look at Melissa better “I don’t know, maybe” she said, knowing it also started after she found out what you did for the kids “Well, do you love him?” Barbara asked sincerely, knowing she was trying to help, even though each word hurt “I mean yes, but”.

You stopped listening after that, feeling tears burning your vision and nausea start to build in your throat as you quickly turned on your heel and rushed back to the library, collapsing back against the boor after it shut behind you, barely thinking of locking it before the tears started to fall “Stupid, stupid, stupid… you knew you weren’t her soulmate and you still hoped” you muttered to yourself, harshly wiping your tears away as you tried to calm yourself down, even though your whole world was falling apart.

XXXXX

You had decided to take a few days off after that, needing some time to come to terms with everything, even going as far as silencing your phone so you wouldn’t get distracted by concerned coworkers and Melissa, who had been worried about you since the first day you had called off, which made you feel even guiltier, but you knew you had to distance yourself for a few days, you needed to come to terms with the fact that Gary was Melissa’s soulmate, she was going to be engaged to him soon and you needed to bury your feelings for the redhead… right?

When you returned, the redhead was immediately on you “Why weren’t you answering any of us?” She asked, following you as you went towards the library “Well, good morning to you too, Mel” you chuckled, glancing at her as you pulled your keys out of your bag “I just needed a few days to myself, but I’m fine now” it wasn’t a total lie, you were feeling better than you did a few days ago and you knew you were able to put on a good fake face.

The redhead stared you down for a long moment, seeming to debate on whether or not she believed you, deciding to not push the matter further “As long as you’re okay” she decided to say, reaching out and resting her hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks, giving her a small smile “I am, don’t worry” you assured, trying not to let her touching you affect you.

XXXXX

After that, a few weeks went by you heard arguing as you approached the breakroom for lunch, raising a brow when you saw Gregory awkwardly standing outside the breakroom, him usually being the first one to go in there “Melissa and Gary are getting into it, figured it was a good idea to wait out here” Gregory explained, him not being good when it came to arguments.

You stood there for a moment, opting to follow Gregory’s lead until you heard Melissa shouting at Gary to let go of her, that making you change your mind as you stormed into the room “You heard her, let her go, Gary” you said, staring him down when both turned at the sound of your voice.

“You’re the one that’s causing the argument, I highly suggest you stay out of business that isn’t your own” Gary said, releasing Melissa and getting in your face “It is my business when you lay a hand on my friend” you said through gritted teeth, smacking his hand away when he went to shove his finger against your chest, readying to strike back if needed when Melissa grabbed his arm to pull him back, seeing red when he shoved her harshly back, your body moving before you could stop yourself as you shoved him harshly back against the wall.

“If you touch her EVER again, I will have your head” you threatened, feeling gentle but firm hands pull you back, Gregory stepping in just in time to grab Gary and hold him back when he lunged at you “Alright, that’s enough” Gregory said, practically dragging Gary out of the room, your harsh glare on Gary as he was led out of the room until you felt the redhead tug on your arm, successfully pulling your attention to her, searching her up and down for injuries before you focused on her gorgeous blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” You both asked, the two of you letting out an awkward laugh when you realized you spoke at the same time “I’m fine, I just… I couldn’t stand how he was treating you just now and I couldn’t just sit back and-” stopping your rambling when you felt her hand on your cheek “Thank you… for stepping in when you did” she said softly, glancing at you hand when you rested it on top of hers that was on your cheek.

The two of you stared at one another for a long moment before you spoke up “I have something to admit, it’s going to sound stupid, but I have to say it” you said, pulling away from her and glancing at the door when you heard footsteps and chatter, you knew you wouldn’t get privacy here, nor would you have time to explain how you felt and how she was your soulmate  even though you weren’t hers “Meet me in my classroom after school” she spoke up, knowing what you were thinking, smiling when you nodded, grabbing your lunchbox and escaping the room before you could make a bigger fool of yourself.

The time to tell Melissa your true feelings came sooner than you wanted it to as the final bell rang and your anxiety rose up to your throat, you more nervous than you cared to admit even though you knew how this would go, you’d spill your guts and she’d turn you down “Y/N?” You heard Melissa ask, pulling you from your thoughts “You said you had something to tell me” she stated, her expression neutral but inside her stomach was turning and her heart was pounding with nerves.

“Oh, yes” you said, clearing your throat and taking a deep breath before you let everything out, telling her how you were falling for her and how the more you did, the more colors you saw “I know Gary is your soulmate and I have no chance, but I had to tell you for my sake” you explained, finally taking a breath, starting to panic when you saw the shock on her face “Oh man, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t of said anything-” getting cut off when her lips crashed into yours.

You froze when she kissed you, unmoving until you felt her start pulling away, pulling her against you and responding to the kiss, once the need to breathe finally overpowered you, you pulled away but continued to hold her close, when you finally opened your eyes a rush of color filled your vision until you focused on her baby blues “Your eyes are beautiful” you murmured, earning a bright smile from the redhead “I see you, I truly see you” Melissa grinned, happy tears filling her eyes as she pulled you in for another heated kiss, now you could tell Dante that you in fact did have a soulmate and could give his group a tamer explanation of what it was like.

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐎𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞… 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 [𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: maid!Blade??? x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, spanking, cokworming, delaying orgasm.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

It just so happened that today is my birthday, so I decided to please both you and myself with a little yummy. I may have been on Tumblr not so long ago, but in fact I have been writing for quite a long time and it will never cease to bring me pleasure, so I'm incredibly happy that I can now share my creativity with others. This is the best gift I can imagine ( 〃▽〃) I hope my texts in english are at least a little closer to what I write in the original, and you don't experience discomfort while reading. Bon appetit!<3

— Everything is absolutely honest! We had an argument, or have you already forgotten? — you smile slyly, poking Blade's nose into his sad and bitter defeat.

He clears his throat, seemingly confused, looking at the menacingly red inscription «Defeat» on the screen of his smartphone.

— When did you learn to play so well?

— Ahem! — you're pouting. — How dare you, I always beat you. Well, almost…

— Did you play with the Silver Wolf?

Your lips open before you find something to say. His insight is so annoying sometimes.

— I-it doesn't matter! The main thing is that now you can start fulfilling my wish, as we agreed.

Blade sighs resignedly, throwing the phone on the table and crossing his arms over his chest.

— Just don't be silly.

— Hey! There was no such condition, I can wish anything I want.

Blade's lips pursed, his eyes closed, as he mentally cursed the minute he signed up for this stupid argument.

— Just don't even think about shirking your obligations anymore, justifying yourself by saying that your wounds haven't healed yet. I fell for it once, but it won't work twice! — you pout your lips and put your fists on your sides, giving your offended expression on your face a bit of severity. — So, I want to…

✧ ✧ ✧

— Where did you even get… this?

Blade discontentedly lifts up the hem of a long black dress along with a white apron, looking with disgust at the mesh tights hugging his legs while you are messing around from behind, helping him tighten the black satin bow on his back. You could have chosen anything as punishment, but he couldn't even think that you could ask for something so humiliating as to make him wear that ugly maid dress and tights that make him feel like a whore on call.

— I used to have to work part-time in a maid cafe, — your voice seems to darken from unpleasant memories. — I wanted to throw away this form, but I think I found a better use for it! — only Blade wanted to give you an understanding silence, but instead he lets out another exasperated sigh when you are overflowing with enthusiasm again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice how Blade lets go of the hem of the dress with displeasure, again hiding his legs from your field of view. In fact, all this time your gaze was riveted to the muscular calves covered with mesh fabric. It seemed to you that… Sexy?

— And now what? — Blade turns around, angrily crossing his arms over his chest and seemingly looking away in embarrassment. If someone else were in your place, this person could have lost his head the second he voiced this humiliating request. But it was you. In fact, he is too greedy for your puppy dog eyes, constantly begging him to commit absolutely senseless follies, to which for some reason he continues to agree.

— Hm-m, actually, I wanted to arrange a real photo shoot for you, so that after sharing this treasure with Kafka and the Wolf! — you're really testing his patience. — But…

You stumble over the words when the image of his sexy legs, perfectly covered with vulgar tights, pops up in your mind again. It's ridiculous even for you. Initially, your request was just a way to tease your amazingly patient lover once again, but now you are desperately trying to fight the heat that treacherously spreads through your body every time you look down, unconsciously continuing to touch his back even when the satin bow has long been tightly tightened, elegantly emphasizing the curve of Blade's waist in an already tight dress. You glance cautiously over his shoulder, noticing how the black fabric hugs his chest, threatening to tear to shreds as soon as he takes a deep breath. However, you've always wondered how his own raincoat holds that muscular chest with the help of two pathetic buttons trembling with tension, but you weren't completely sure if your old uniform could withstand such pressure.

— But? — a low velvety voice, permeated with impatience, pulls you out of your thoughts and seems to bring you out of a deep trance when you notice how your fingers are gently pressed into the fabric of a tight dress.

— Damn, — you sigh softly, sitting down fatally and clinging to the hem of a lush black skirt.

Blade warily turns his head in your direction, watching you straighten up again, pulling the black fabric up to his waist and exposing a humiliating picture hidden under a skirt that he would like to never see again.

— What are you doing? — he wants to turn around and finally put you in your place, hoping that this will accelerate the approach of the long-awaited moment when this stupid outfit will leave his body forever.

But he remains motionless.

As if paralyzed, he sharply exhales air from his lungs when he feels your palms slide up from his shins, lingering on his muscular thighs. Tiny fingers press into tense muscles and Blade feels even more confused and annoyed. You're groping his body so brazenly, making him feel vulnerable, as if he's being blatantly harassed right now.

— I never would have thought that this dress would suit you so well… I'm sorry, I can't help myself, — you say breathlessly, while your fingers continue to possessively squeeze, massage and stroke his thighs through the stretched threads of tights. The tips of your fingers playfully slip under the thin mesh to feel the warmth of his body even more and explore every soft scar covering his legs.

Blade is distraught. Although you have always been the one who clearly dominates him morally in your relationship, physically he has always taken over, controlling everything that happens within your bedroom, and sometimes outside it. And now you've made him numb from the symphony of opposites raging in his chest. He wanted to grab your cheeky wrists and turn around, pressing your body into the wall behind, he wanted to dig into your lips with a rough kiss and remind you that it's his hands that should master every curve of your body, but he also wanted you not to stop.

Blade's chest heaves, threatening to tear the fabric stretched to the limit, as a heavy sigh escapes from his throat. One of your palms abruptly switches to his groin, groping for a surprisingly firm erection. His cock twitches in your palm, and your lips stretch in a smug grin. Blade remains silent, but if you could see his face now, you would be able to capture in your memory the most delightful aggressively embarrassed expression. He is literally shaking from the fact that his body reacts so treacherously to what is happening.

— I feel that you had to like it, but it should have been a punishment, — you rise on your toes to reach his neck, pressing your lips into the throbbing curve, leaving a wet kiss on the skin heated with embarrassment before pulling away.

Blade was almost ready to whine at the way the warmth of your hand left his hard organ, but instead his jaws close and he growls, turning around to you just in time for you to kneel down, climbing under the hem of a full skirt and pulling tights over his legs. He would have almost staggered back if it weren't for the grip of your hands, now pressing into his tight thighs again. Blade's lips open, threatening to pour out on you all the discontent swirling on the tip of his tongue, but he immediately swallows any curse that pops up in his thoughts when the warmth of your mouth envelops his needy cock. You dig into him so greedily, squeezing the throbbing flesh with soft lips, swallowing him deeper and deeper with each new movement of your head, ignoring any vomiting. For some reason, right now, seeing Blade like this, a passionate desire has awakened in you to make him moan sweetly to the wet sounds of your lips sliding over his hard erection.

It's so hard for him to breathe. The thick fabric tightens his chest tightly whenever he holds back another velvet growl escaping from his throat. He's so damn mad at you for making him feel so insecure and pathetic, but your narrow throat squeezes so deliciously around his girth while you recklessly take him whole, desperate to please him, that your persistence even amuses Blade. Right now he just wanted to see your face under that irritatingly long skirt, blocking him from any view of what was happening under it.

— Damn… remember that you brought it to this.

The muscles of his chest are straining to the limit, tearing the fabric that was desperately held to the last, finally allowing him to breathe and move normally. Blade pulls down the hem of your skirt, grabbing you by the hair and forcing you to your feet. His eyes meet yours, blinking in discouragement in response to his fierce gaze, as if you are a little guilty kitten who was picked up by the scruff of the neck.

— It seems to me that this stupid outfit has misled you that you can have any control over me.

— Ho-oh, wasn't it like that when you got turned on just because I squeezed your thighs? — you finally regain your former confidence by fearlessly mocking him. — By the way, although I have never worn these clothes, it was not necessary to tear them! – you look with sadness at the fabric that has parted on his chest, sadly realizing the fact that next time you will not be able to get him to wear this dress again. But your disappointment did not settle in your heart for too long when your gaze fell on the heaving voluminous chest, strewn with scars, which did not cease to cause this sweet heat in the bottom of your stomach, no matter how many times you had not seen it before.

— Shut up. You're going to pay for the fact that I had to wear these disgusting things at all, — Blade literally spits out these words before turning you around to face the wall, still painfully winding your hair around his fist. The air is knocked out of your lungs as soon as your chest and cheek meet a hard surface, and you gasp at the unexpected change of roles.

Your underwear instantly descends to your ankles, and the miniature skirt lifts up, revealing to Blade a view of your ass, the flesh of which instantly turns red from the lashing blow of his heavy palm. You flinch, and a cry of pain bursts from your throat when his blows are repeated over and over again, while his other hand releases your hair just to tinker with the fluffy skirt of a ridiculous suit. You can only hear the rustling of the fabric and the light ringing sound from his earring, swaying with each new blow. Burning with irritation and animal excitement, scarlet eyes notice the shiny moisture flowing down your trembling thighs. You've always been so greedy for any manifestation of his absolute dominance over your body that it's even touching.

The unnerving fabric rolls down on his belt and his hips immediately move forward, forcing you to press into the wall even harder from the delicious feeling of stretching and fullness when his hard cock easily plunges into your insides. Any hint of disobedience leaves your thoughts as soon as his hips begin to whiplash against your ass, forcing you to jump from each painful blow of his penis entering you all the way.

— Next time you'll think twice before forcing me to do something equally humiliating, — hoarse moans come out of Blade's chest as his strong fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass, holding you in place, tightly pressed against the wall.

You feel the knot at the bottom of your stomach trembling and tightening, bringing you closer to the edge of your pleasure. His cock tirelessly stretches your walls that are contracting around his girth, ruthlessly cutting into the cervix every time his hips move forward, making you feel a hellish mixture of pain and pleasure that drives you crazy. You can almost see the bright light blurring your eyes when his movements suddenly stop with the last deep thrust, leaving his throbbing cock in the depths of your walls spasming in the coming orgasm. The blood is wildly accelerating through the veins that wrap around this divine member, which cruelly stopped all movements, forcing you to feel pleasant pulsations that keep you on the edge of the abyss, but not allowing you to step forward.

— B-Blade, please!.. — you whine, sobbing softly and making pathetic attempts to move your hips, which are immediately stopped by his stone grip on your buttocks.

— What is it? — Blade's voice is laced with annoying complacency. — Are you uncomfortable? Do you want me to continue?

— Yes!

— Then I guess you'll have to ask properly.

His chest rises and falls with each heavy sigh. He can see tears of despair welling up in your eyes as you squirm and squirm in his grip, trying to regain at least a little stimulation.

— P-please…

— What? I didn't hear you.

His heavy palm meets your ass again, pulling a pitiful cry out of your throat. You sob, transparent beads of tears roll down your cheeks.

— What is it? Are you speechless already?

One more blow and then his free palm wraps around your throat, forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his gaze as Blade looms over you, gazing intently at the mixture of despair and pain painted on your face.

— Please, Blade, please! I want so much… I want to cum, please…

The moment of his silence, while he reveled in the way your voice cracked, breaking into sobs, lasted like an eternity.

— Good girl.

You didn't have time to realize that, it seems, Blade finally heard what he wanted, as his hips again set the same ruthless pace, crashing into you at breakneck speed. His earring swayed with a soft tinkle from each sharp push, merging with the sounds of his hoarse growl and your stifled moans of pleasure. Blade could feel your walls squeezing his cock tight again, resisting every violent movement tearing your insides apart. His movements became careless, the rhythm lost, turning into a blind pursuit of his own pleasure.

This sweet feeling overwhelms your body again and your nails are pressed into a hard wall in despair. You could feel his cock swell and shudder inside, and the hoarse growl breaks into quiet moans. With the last careless but hard and rough thrusts, Blade tightens his grip on your buttocks, immediately leaving bruises on your skin under the pads of his fingers before bursting out of your insides, leaving you to spasm around emptiness as an intense orgasm covers you. Your ass, red from blows, as well as the hem of the skirt crumpled on Blade's belt, are splashed with sticky hot streams of sperm. You go limp, kneeling on the floor, when he finally lets go of your throat and hips, catching his breath after his climax.

Both of you are breathing heavily, trying to come to your senses again. You lazily rest your palms against the wall, trying to get to your feet, and finally turn around to Blade. When you came up with such a humiliating punishment for him, you could not even think that you would ever see something as beautiful as what now appeared before your eyes. The sweat-damp strands of Blade's long bangs stuck to his forehead, misty fiery eyes stare at you from under heavy half-closed eyelids, his chest rises and falls in time with his ragged breathing, peeking out of a torn black fabric and a crumpled white apron that has slipped off one of his shoulders, and the skirt is still pulled up at the waist decorated with white spots, exposing to you a view of his semi-hard penis, slightly trembling in his palm, trembling legs and stretched mesh tights, concertina gathered at the level of his ankles. Now you are literally speechless, finding this sight so beautiful that it will forever be imprinted in the subcortex of your memory.

Blade sighs heavily before lazily sinking onto the sofa behind him.

— Now this disgusting costume is finally ruined, what a pity, — his lips slightly stretch in a barely noticeable smile.

His words seem to bring you out of deep hypnosis, bringing you to your senses again. You straighten up, shifting your gaze from his hips to his smug expression on his face.

— It's okay, I'll buy a new one for next time, especially for you!

Someday he'll just strangle you while you're sleeping soundly.

[memoriapraeteritorumbonorum]

Honey, I love your hc! OK I need another set of the Noticing You've Picked Up Their Mannerisms but with Tyelko and also Glorfindel! Please and also thank you in advance! 💚💚💚

Noticing you’ve picked up their mannerisms - Celegorm and Glorfindel

Author’s note: A bit late but here it is! Enjoy queen💅🏽

-

Celegorm

Ever since he was little, Tyelkormo has had the habit of persuading others with a specific move whenever he was about to do something he wasn’t supposed to be doing

He told you about it once, and you had burst out laughing because you simply couldn’t imagine him acting this way, since he was usually the one receiving the compliments — why would he need to turn it around?

It had all started as a joke, when he had asked his mother permission to follow his older brothers into the woods past sunset to go bird watching

Nerdanel, however, had denied her then youngest child and that was when little Tyelko had found out that his silver tongue could get him anywhere

You didn’t believe him when he had told you about this sneaky tactic of his, but then remembered how many times he had persuaded you to do certain things or turn a blind eye on what he was doing

Usually, he would have no problem with you doing your thing but today, you really wanted to practice sparring with the Ambarussar who were insisting you brought their brother’s precious longsword

You knew he wouldn’t allow it, since that weapon meant a lot to him it’s basically an extension of his ego but you decided to give it a try

So when you enter his room, ask nicely and end up getting rejected, you gently hug him from behind and tell him how much you would appreciate it, how he had such a generous heart and how his sword would be the only worthy weapon yadayadayada

Basically you’re sucking up to him like a champ, touch his biceps while you’re at it

Someone with an ego like that simply can’t resist a beautiful person complimenting him right?

“I suppose I could- hey!” He frees himself from your sensual grip and stares at you with wide eyes, a surprised, playful grin spreading across his face seconds later “I don’t believe it, using my own evil ways against me,” he muses in disbelief, feline eyes twinkling mischievously

You feign shock, mockingly placing your hand on your heart “Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

A for effort queen

Nevertheless, Tyelko is impressed. You almost tricked him! That deserves a reward

But now he’s staring at you through the window, hawk eyes watching his precious sword in your nervous hands — performance anxiety incoming

And be prepared to be charmed when you return

Glorfindel

This one is bittersweet

When he first returned from the Halls of Mandos, Glorfindel wore his hair in a single braid, never once letting it down like he used to ages ago

You know it was because of his last battle, and you also know that it had taken him a long time to overcome the habit of putting his golden tresses into a braid whenever he was about to leave his chambers

It just made him feel safer

You’ve seen him do it countless times. You’d wake up to him sitting on the edge of the bed, hands quickly working to weave a specific pattern into the braid

You hardly put your hair up, the sole reason being you preferred it down

But today was rather windy and you’ve been running around with hair blowing all over the place, blocking your view, tangling itself in your jewellery and tickling your face and neck constantly

Glorfindel is at your side, helping you pick some seasonal herbs for you to dry and press later this evening when a lock of your hair blows in his face, making him scrunch his nose

You laugh, gently pulling it back and begin to complain about the windy weather while your hands simultaneously start gathering the hair and braiding it in his unique style

He’s stunned and just watches you without really listening to you talk — that braid looks awfully familiar

The way your hands subconsciously move just like his astounds him

“Wait, Y/N, let me see,” he softly turns your head to the side to admire the intricate pattern worked into your braid, you literally copied each and every one of his techniques flawlessly

For some reason he feels emotional, knowing that this braid emerged from a deep wound within, and now his beloved is wearing it with a smile on their face

In a way, he feels proud to have had such an impact on you — a person who never really braids their hair in the first place

“What is it?” you ask before connecting the dots “I didn’t realize!” Your hand flies up to touch the back only to be met with his already caressing your hair in awe

“It looks beautiful on you,” he sighs, gently laying the braid across your shoulder

In that moment, Glorfindel feels closer to you than ever

He sees your love in that braid, his story coming into contact with yours and creating something wonderful

You make a mental note to wear your hair like this more often just to see the wistful expression on his face

He doesn’t talk about his last battle very often, but you feel like you got a bit closer to him today

And he feels it too, he’s already contemplating how to share more of his past with you, step by step :)

[somber-sapphic]

hi!! how are you doing? is it ok to ask for a wandanat x reader with reader having a migraine and they basically help and take care of her? (i have a migraine it hurtsss :( )

Painful Whispers

〖Notes: Hey anon! I hope you're feeling better! It's been a while, huh? Well, I'm sorry for the delay. I did my best with this one but I've never actually had a migraine so it required a lot of googling. I hope it's up to par <3〗

〖Summary: You get a migraine for the first time.〗

〖Word Count: 1.3k〗

〖Pairing: WandaNat x Reader〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You whimpered softly and curled yourself into a ball, shivering even under the blankets. The pain was so intense that you could barely move, every twitch sending agony through your body. The pain you were experiencing was something you had never felt before, and it was the worst you had felt in a while.

The first few hours of your day had been okay; you ate your breakfast of strawberry yogurt hesitantly, noticing that something in your body was off yet unable to pinpoint it. The only difference you had managed to identify was the glimmer shining across your vision.

Your go-to solution was to drink water – it always was. Whenever you felt even the slightest bit off, you drank some water. In fact, you were constantly reminding the rest of your team to hydrate and had your water bottle with you almost everywhere. This had become a running joke that you happily went along with.

It was during your morning workout that the pain struck. It felt like someone had slammed you on the side of the head and was squeezing your skull in a vice. It was so bad that you had practically given up on your workout immediately and retreated to your bedroom, away from the bright lights and loud sounds.

You barely managed to change into comfortable clothes before collapsing into bed, pulling the covers over your head. The comforter blocked out the light, but it didn't stop the pain; it merely kept it from getting too much worse.

You had been in that state for roughly two hours now, ignoring the buzzing of your phone, which was most likely your concerned girlfriends. Eventually, you figured they would find you and fix it. You generally trusted that they could fix whatever was wrong.

It took about five minutes after that last thought for your girlfriends to burst into the room, both of them being far too loud.

"Y/n?" Natasha demanded, storming into your ensuite bathroom. "Are you in here?" She was yelling, and you had half a mind to start shouting back at her, but that would definitely hurt too much. All you could manage was a pathetic whine, hoping that Wanda, who hadn't started breaking things, heard you.

After a few seconds, you felt Wanda's hands on your back, probably sensing your pain.

"Natasha, quiet," she snapped, her voice quiet yet stern, successfully silencing the shorter woman. You could hear Natasha walking over to you and felt the bed dip as she sat down.

"Y/n, love, what are you doing under there?" The brunette murmured, gently pulling the covers down from your face. You didn't move, simply shut your eyes in case they turned the lights on and made a low sound in the back of your throat.

Wanda's brows furrowed, and she glanced at Natasha, who wore a similar concerned expression. The redhead reached over and touched your forehead, a bit surprised when she didn't feel a fever. Your face was pale, and your eyes were puffy from crying.

"Y/n?" The witch asked again, tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear. You winced slightly, and Wanda made a decision. She didn't like using her magic, especially without permission, but you weren't speaking, and she needed to understand what had upset you so much.

She placed two fingers on your temple, and whisps of red magic surrounded your head. She didn't pry deeply into your mind, but it didn't take much.

Pain flared in Wanda’s head, and she pulled away, shock written on her face. This was only a fraction of what you were feeling, and it was enough to make her stomach churn.

"Migraine," the witch projected, not wanting to speak any further out loud so that you wouldn't have to deal with the sound. Natasha nodded, picking up on what she was doing. You heard her voice in your head, but it wasn't loud or painful; it was feather light and soothing.

"I'll go get her some meds. Cold compress too?"

"Please." Natasha pressed a kiss to your forehead and squeezed your shoulder in a show of support. Wanda also got up and secured the windows, ensuring that no light could get in.

After that, she turned on the AC, trying to remember what she had read about caring for someone with a migraine. It had come up with Tony once, but that hadn't really been her responsibility. Cool compresses, Excedrin (which thankfully they had), head and scalp massages, and quiet music.

That was all she could recall reading, and she was going to try everything. If none of that helped, then she would take on some of the pain herself.

"Okay, sweet girl, I'm going to put on some meditation music. If you want it off, squeeze my hand, alright?" You grunted quietly and allowed her to prop your head in her lap, the movement making the pain even worse. But Wanda had an idea.

She placed one hand on your forehead and let a bit of her magic flow into your skin, smiling a bit when you relaxed. All she had really done was make her skin a bit cooler, but it seemed to help. Unfortunately, the lowered body temperature wasn't something she could sustain for long; you would need the cool compress.

Natasha wasn't gone long, and based on the quick pace of her breathing, you guessed that she had run to get the supplies. Not only did she bring Excedrin and a damp cloth, but also a glass of your favorite juice and a lavender-scented sloth that had been warmed in the microwave.

"Alright, let's get these in you, yeah?" Natasha asked, with Wanda acting as a go-between so you could hear her voice. You blinked at her; even your eyelids hurt. With the help of your lovely witch, you managed to sit up, not really trusting your voice.

Nat crawled onto the bed beside you, balancing the juice carefully as she shifted so she was pressed up against you. She tapped two of the pills into your hand, and you swallowed them, followed by a large sip of juice. It wasn't until then that you realized how thirsty you were.

You ended up drinking the rest of the glass, and when you were finished, you gave the redhead a watery smile as you leaned against Wanda.

"Thanks," you whispered, your voice a weary rasp. Natasha leaned forward and kissed you softly, simultaneously pushing you back onto the pillows. She placed the cool cloth on your forehead and put the sloth on your stomach, giving your hand an extra pat.

"Lay with me?" You breathed, closing your eyes again. You knew it would be a while before the medicine kicked in, but for now, the combination of the pitch-black room, cloth on your head, and soft music was helping. The stuffed animal was a very nice touch.

"Where on earth would we go?" Wanda responded through the telepathic link, still not wanting to speak. You didn't need them to talk out loud; this was more than enough. The gesture would've made you tear up if not for the exhaustion caused by the pain.

Your girlfriends lay down on either side of you, Natasha sitting up a bit so your head rested on her chest. She began to run her short nails against your scalp, keeping her touch incredibly soft. Wanda had one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you in a protective gesture.

You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes, deciding that though you probably couldn't sleep, just relaxing like that was enough. You had also come to one very distinct conclusion: migraines suck.

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[phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings]

Do You Think Anyone Will Love Me?

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: James Potter/Reader (no pronouns are used for reader, but James affectionately calls them Princess)

Plot: You have a bad day and go home to find comfort in your roommate and long time friend, James.

Reader is autistic and James is just supportive.

Notes: This account is anti-JKR and her beliefs.

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💖

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Read on AO3 here.

You hadn’t been having a good day and went to seek out the only person you felt could help you through this, and make you think about something other than how bad you thought you looked and how bad you felt. When you got home, you seeked him out; your roommate, your best friend and your secret crush, James Potter.

“James,” you breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him.

He turned to you with a big smile on his face, but when he caught sight of you and the tears rolling down your cheeks, his face fell. “What’s wrong?”

He held his arms open and you ran into his arms as he gave you a comforting hug in a way that only James could. You started crying, “Do you think anyone will love me?”

He held you closer, “of course someone will love you or maybe someone already loves you. How could they not love you? You’re amazing. You’re perfect.” He paused, before you heard him say, “Don’t let anyone tell you or make you feel otherwise.”

“Do you really think that of me? That I’m amazing and perfect?”

“Yes! You are to me. I love you.” He pulled back and looked down at your face. “I love you so much. I want you to be mine.”

“But Lily-”

“Means nothing to me. If it ever looked like I was flirting with her, it was only because you were near and I was flirting with you. It always seemed to make you smile and I like it when you smile.”

“James,” you looked up at him for a few seconds to tell him, “I’d love to be yours.” You looked away and down to his mouth.

He leaned down and kissed you, your eyes fluttering shut. It was slow and passionate, and better than you’d ever dreamed.

When he pulled back, you smiled, breathing a little heavier than before.

“I have something I want to show you,” he told you. “I always tried to hide my feelings from you because I didn’t know how you felt and I didn’t want to scare you off.” He moved away from you and you felt a little colder without his warmth, but he took your hand and led you to his room, sitting you on his bed. “I wrote these to you, though I wasn’t sure if I’d ever give them to you telling you it was me, or if I’d leave them in the letter box as a secret admirer.” He pulled out a little stack of letters and handed them to you. “Though, I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“I’m glad you didn’t do the secret admirer thing. I love knowing it’s from you.”

You opened the letters up and you read them, each one more beautiful than the last. One of them was written about the time you had a day like this, a day where you felt ugly, you couldn’t control your hair and you felt like you were fat. He wrote about how you might not see it yourself, but how beautiful you are and how your kindness, compassion and loyalty made you even more beautiful in his eyes.

When you gave them back to him, he put them on his bedside table. “How about we spend the rest of the day together? Just you and me.”

You smiled at him softly, before you lifted your hand to your hair, “I should probably wash my hair. It feels dirty.”

“You look amazing to me,” he said to you before moving forward to capture your lips in a kiss. “But if that’s how you feel, how about I help you by washing your hair?”

“You want to do that?”

“Of course, lovey,” he told you. “Would you like me to be in the bath with you? Or would you prefer I sit on the side? I don’t mind either way.”

You blushed and looked down, “Jamie, would you please join me?” You weren’t worried about him seeing you naked, you’d known him almost your whole life and he was the only man you felt fully safe around.

“Gladly, princess.” He smiled at you as he stood up holding his hand out to you. You took it, smiling at him. He smiled back before he guided you into the bathroom.

You loved how he let you be yourself; how he didn’t force you to do any of the societal norms, like keep eye contact, or not stim. You love how supportive he was after you found out you were autistic, you had been so worried that you would lose him completely.

You had heard horror stories from others who told others they were autistic and they didn’t want anything to do with them. When you told James, he just hugged you and told you, “I’m glad you were able to find out and that you trusted me enough to tell me. This is not a negative and you are not less than. You are an incredible and inspiring person.”

He was the first one you told and you were so happy that you did.

You were brought back to the present when you felt a warm hand on your face. You looked up at James’ beautiful face.

“What are you thinking about, my love?”

You blushed and told him, “I was just thinking about when I told you about finding out that I’m autistic. I was terrified of telling anyone but I needed to tell someone and I’m so glad that you have been so supportive of me.”

He leaned down and kissed you, leaving you breathless, “I will always support you. I always did, from the very beginning.”

After pulling away, he turned around and that's when you noticed the bath was full. He started taking off his shirt and you turned away. When he noticed this, he turned you back to him. “We’re together now. If you want to look, you can.” He kissed you before adding, “You should probably take off your clothes. I can turn away if it makes you more comfortable.”

You looked down and took a deep breath before taking off your clothes. You looked up at him nervously, and saw how James couldn’t take his eyes off you and it made you feel incredible.

“Lovey, you are so beautiful. More beautiful than anyone I’ve ever seen,” he told you and you blushed.

“Say that to me again,” you requested. “I haven’t had anyone say that to me before. Not anyone of significance anyway.”

“You are so beautiful, my love,” he smiled at you. “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I will gladly tell you that as often as you want to hear it.”

You smiled at him again as he took your hand and guided you over to the bath. Once he was in, he kissed your hand before he helped you in and you sat between his legs.

He got your shampoo, squeezing a little into the palm of his hand before massaging it into your scalp. You hummed in contentment at the feel of his massage into your head. It felt so good.

He did the whole routine, using a clean cup that he’d brought in to get some of the water from the bath and rinsing it out after each time he used the shampoo and conditioner, making sure none of it got in your eyes.

After he finished, the two of you just sat together a little longer before you got out and you dried yourselves off.

He told you he would be with you in just a moment, but asked if he could brush your hair and you told him that he could and you’d be happy to let him. He’d just get some clothes to put in your room. You went to your room and put on the clothes you sleep in and waited until he walked into your room, wearing only sweatpants.

He picked up your hair brush and sat behind you. He brushed your hair gently as he whispered sweet nothings to you. After he finished, he put the brush down, before taking your hand and guiding you back so you were leaning against him.

He looked down at your intertwined hands and whispered, “I like the way your hand fits in mine.”

You looked down at your joined hands as well. “I like the way your hand feels in mine.”

He looked over at you. You looked up at him and he smiled softly at you as you looked down slightly, “Would it be alright if I borrowed one of your sweaters? They smell like you.”

He pulled you up so the two of you were still holding hands and took you to his room. “Is there one in particular you’d like to wear, love?”

“No, any of them. They all smell like you.”

He pulled one out and asked, “do you mind if I put it on you?”

You shook your head and sat on his bed as he pulled it over your head and you put your arms through the holes. You looked down, smiling, before whispering more to yourself than to him, “it’s my favourite colour.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t remember?” You could hear the smile in his voice before you saw it. “Lovey, would you like me to paint your nails?”

You looked up at him, “you want to do that?”

“Of course, I want today to be all about you and pampering you. So would you like me to?”

“Yes, please,” you responded as you started to get up.

“No,” he sat you down on the bed again. “I’ll get everything, just tell me what we need.”

“Nail polish organiser bag. It has everything needed for doing this. It’s the black bag in the cupboard under the vanity on the left in my room.”

“Alright, lovey,” he leaned down to give you a quick peck before adding, “make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon.”

He left and you lay back on his bed, smiling to yourself. He came back not long after with the bag. You opened it and pulled out all the essentials, fixing your cuticles, making it easier for him as he picked out the ones he wanted to use.

Once he’d chosen the colours he wanted, you pulled and showed him the polish to use first. He got the little tray table you had in your room. He told you where he wanted you (sitting against the headboard) and placed the table between the two of you so you had somewhere to put your hands.

As he was doing them, a thought came to mind, “James?”

He hummed in response to let you know he was listening.

“Can I please do your nails at some point?”

He stopped painting your nails for a moment, to smile at you and answer, “of course, angel. I would love that. We could take photos of them both.”

You smiled at him and watched as he finished your nails. He moved to sit beside you and you leaned against him as you waited for your nails to finish.

You lifted your hands to look at what he’d done. “James, these are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Beautiful colours for my beautiful angel.”

You smiled and blushed, “I like it when you use those pet names for me.”

“I’ll keep using them then,” he whispered in your ear, before leaning his head on top of yours. “When they dry, would you snuggle with me?”

You giggled and whispered, “I would love to.”

When your nails had dried, you moved the little table off the bed and the two of you lay together with him holding you in his arms and you cuddled into him.

As you both cuddled each other and you buried your face into him and his smell. You loved his smell. He made you feel safe and loved, and his smell enveloped you in warmth and safety.

He pulled you back a little before littering your face with kisses. You giggled, and when he stopped, you hesitated a little before you kissed him. He tasted like home and love, just like his smell.

You snuggled into him even more, and you knew without a doubt, with him, you were always home.