#so step out of the way gray its my time to shine

[lestink]

i cant believe gray is dictionary definition of 'he don't know what to do with all that' with juvia i actually need to beat him in the streets

[naffeclipse]

Bloody Mess

Reader x Sebastian Solace

Commission Info

I'm rattling @o-cinnamonstickz so hard right now for requesting Sebastian with an injured reader! This is my jam, and I'm eating it up! The hot fish continues to plague us both. After an unfortunate turret encounter, the reader requires serious medical attention. It's a good thing Sebastian's shop isn't too far. A medkit or a helping hand could do the trick.

Content Warnings: Injury, blood, and stitches.

———

You hobble down the hallway with a hand pressed to your side. Sanguine oozes between your fingers, shining in the harsh light of the Hadal Blacksite. Every breath draws out a searing shot through your ribs. Every exhale teases your vision with blots of black. 

A mindless urge draws you forward. The room spins and dips as if rocked by waves. Another ribbon of agony cuts deep through your side, lacing through your rib cage and back to the bloody hole taking up your jumpsuit. Dark crimson freely soaks into the fabric. 

Turrets. Why did it have to be turrets in the other room?

You heard the mechanical whir as it trained its barrel on you, the red dot marking its target. The split moment you had to run and escape the line of sight was followed by several ear-drum-shattering discharges. 

The soft metallic fall of shell casings echoed like the drizzle of rain. 

Lacking a medkit on hand, you do, however, have dozens of flash drives and a few thick documents tucked into the pocket opposite your wound. What little good it does you now.

You stumble, almost dropping to your knees but you grit your teeth. A locker brushes your shoulder as you titter dangerously close to collapse. Your hand clenches over your slick and hot injury, wondering how much blood loss is too much. 

If you go down now, you’re not getting back up.

You attempt to push your hair out of your face but only succeed in smearing blood along your temple. Growling quietly, you endure another searing strike. It radiates through your torso as if the bullet had a fine time ping-ponging off of your internal organs.

The tremors working down your limbs spell an inevitable outcome. You force yourself to straighten. A dollop of blood falls to the floor by your feet and you stare down at the splatter for a moment too long.

You are not expected to return. The sharp and constant legal print pierces you with a narrow-straight tip.

A loud, high-pitched sound echoes distantly. Your heart stalls, caught between reserves of adrenaline and what pulsing fear assaults your waning consciousness. 

Pinkie.

The screaming grows. Surging with the last of your strength, you drop your hand from your bleeding side. One step after the other, you throw yourself into forward momentum, fueled only by the absolute terror locked in your veins. Your boot almost catches on your other in your dizzying dash.

Your eyes land upon a vent. The opening emits a light and muscle memory takes hold. 

The wail climbs until a ringing in your eardrums. The world whirls between red and gray and pink. Throwing yourself to the floor, you dive headfirst into the ventilation shaft. Knocking your injured side, a wretched gasp leaves you as stars burst across your vision. Pain roars and gouges at your bullet wound in time with Pinkie’s scream. The lockers lining the hall rattle with the angler fish's force before you scramble the last of the distance into Sebastian’s shop.

Dropping to the cold, gray floor, you sprawl out much in the way a chalk outline of a murder victim would be drawn. The pain rolls over you, pushing you deeper and deeper down. The heat of fresh blood spills over your side and onto the floor, freely flowing into a slowly expanding puddle. Your lungs heave to catch your breath. The darkness spreading around your vision threatens to take you completely under.

You can’t pay the ferryman again. There are only so many coins you can find in this abysmal place. Your life is worth only how much jingles in your pocket, and you’re starting to become dirt cheap. 

A deep snort echoes. Using the last of your strength, you turn your head to the one responsible for the sound, and glower.

Sebastian Solace stands tall in the corner of his shop. His anglerfish lure brightens the gray and gloom with a warm flare. His hands clasped together in front of him. His third waves his claws in a flippant greeting.

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re not much safer here with me.” He surveys you, his teal eyes glowing sharp. They upturn with equal disgust and amusement. “Nice diving technique. Ten outta ten.”

If it were any other moment, you would be roiling with anger and offer a rebuttal of preparing him to be made into a fillet. Furious, you have no energy to give to his usual taunts and threats. 

The floor is the most gracious safe haven you have known. The hot spread of blood along your ribcage continues to grow. Deep gulps fill you, but every motion of taking in air tears at the pain digging between your ribs. Silently, you lie in your own crimson.

A mighty shift of Sebastian’s tail slips along the wall. He peers closer, his third eye crinkling while he regards you like a toad that happened to get run over in the street. Repulsion sweeps across his features.

“You’re bleeding in my shop,” he growls low in his throat. “Do you mind?”

Exhaustion clings heavy to your skull. The weight of your eyelids grows tenfold. The wound racks your body until a groan threatens to slip past your lips. 

A scoff of abhorrence leaves him. The heavy thump of a trail begins to drag over the floor. The light shifts, and you stare upwards. Sebastian looms over you, his hands pressing in on either side of you, carefully avoiding the pool of blood your body is making on the floor of his shop.

Good. If nothing else, he’ll remember you by the stains you left behind. You’ll win by being the final nuisance. Hah.

You tense with a tsunami-level crash of agony against your nerves. Everything burns every last sensation. The heat and sear go on endlessly through your bones and along your flesh. 

“Hey, are you going to buy a medkit and fix up the mess you’re making?” his voice comes from far away and all too close as if your head is submerged in water. The tip of a large finger prods at your jumpsuit. “You’re making me hungry.”

Your fuzzy brain finds it funny how the anglerfish lure upon his head douses him in a halo-like glow. As if he’s anything less than a devilish fish coming to torment you in your personal purgatory. 

Not that even angelic light could wash out his disgust with you. 

You try to speak. A faint moan trickles from your lips, “You’re… not gonna… eat me.”

A chuckle echoes, raspy and mischievous. The urge to smack him sends tingles down your hand, but no strength.

“You’re looking pretty tasty.” Sebastian, however, grunts a noise of aversion. 

If you had the strength to laugh derisively, you would.

Flukes swish just in the corner of your dark vision. 

“What happened?” Sebastians’ gaze turns downward. You become aware of more hands roaming your jumpsuit. A large, slick palm presses to your wound. The pressure ignites every pain factor you thought might have settled with rest, and you flail fruitlessly before weakness pins you in place.

“Turret,” you utter, barely coherent. 

“Idiot.” He rolls his tongue. “Should I put you out of your misery? I will charge you for the bullet.”

You groan again. Your hands, slick with red and cold, try reaching for the arms moving you from the floor. 

“Bite… me,” you utter. Your head grows heavy with fog. The fish merchant falls farther away from you as your vision becomes long tunnels.

Light touches you. Warm and yellow, then teal of an unnatural glow. 

“On second thought,” Sebastian declares mockingly, “shooting you would make a bigger mess. I have a well-reputed establishment to run.”

The gurgles of disagreement flowing from you are met with a dismissive wave of claws. His hands, however, fall underneath you. Keeping away from the gaping hole in your body, he secures you in his grasp. In a haze of agony, you float, lighter than air as Sebastian lifts you off the floor. 

“This costs extra,” he mutters.

Your fingers weakly slip off of his arms. The argument in your mouth stays behind your teeth as you watch the shop bleed into grays and slants of light. The blots of warm yellow grow bigger and bigger until darkness inflicts the center. Then, all you understand is a black hole eating all.

Consciousness is fickle. It visits you only to slip out the door just when you think you are now well acquainted.

You hear movement, heavy and slow. The briefest breaths. You even feel a sigh against your temple as someone rubs away dry blood from your face.

Occasionally, you hear yourself. Pained moans fill the room like the hauntings of a ghost. An answering voice shushes you gently. You’re being too loud. Someone thinks so, anyway.

The hands upon your body never leave. They shift, lifting away from the injury that has sent you on this downward spiral into a black nightmare or drawing over your rib cage to secure something tight around you.

Two small pills are pressed to your lips. A voice urges you to be good and take it. You struggle, your eyelids too heavy as if drizzled in sticky sap to open, but your defiance is useless. Claw-tipped fingers clamp your nostrils shut. The immediate need for air answers, and someone shoves the medicine into your open mouth. Despite your incoherent panic, you swallow and gasp.

In a blissful immersion of relief, whatever it was takes hold. You dream of blood and Pinkie’s screaming face, intermingling into one, brightly hued nightmare. Then a void takes its place, and you drift endlessly in a dark sea.

For one brief moment, you truly wake.

Your eyes hardly open. Peering between your eyelashes, you find the light. The warm glow of Sebastian’s anglerfish lure, and his eyes. The teal pierces the darkness beyond where he and you are. He’s bowed low, tucked close to your torso. You lie flat on a cool surface. 

In half-consciousness, you find where his hands touch your side, prodding delicately with a thread and needle at your torn-apart flesh. You don’t feel a thing. Most of the blood is cleared away with an ever-attentive third hand clutching a rag now smeared in crimson. His gaze locks onto your bullet wound. A few mutters fall from his mouth. Curses, you think, for you.

Why would he bother with this charade? He should have left you to die for the simple fact of bleeding all over his shop.

You can come back. You’ve done it before: died, that is. You have been torn apart and chewed up and drowned. Each time didn’t take anything less than a ferryman coin. But each time, you awoke with a dread deep in your chest and a heaviness in your middle.

Does death linger? Sebastian didn’t say either way, but he frowned when you did manage to reach his shop again, and you mentioned how wrong it feels to remember dying.

This must be another dream. Strange but not so horrifying, if not a touch too raw for your heart.

Whatever exhaustion holds you down is back once again, and you slip away without a sound.

The next time your eyelids flutter open, you’re strangely still in Sebastian’s shop. You are curled into the coil of his tail, leaning on your uninjured side. The smooth, blue-gray scales touch you with a warmth you didn’t think the experimented fish guy was capable of giving.

Groggy and slow, you come to in the soft light. You squint up at the shopkeeper. He casually flips through a document, but a flick of his finned ear gives away his awareness of you. A low hum rolls in his chest. The faintest vibrations slip down his serpentine body and touch you. 

A needy want infiltrates you. How long could you stay here, pretending to rest? Maybe it’s not safe here, but it’s safer. You could sleep for a few more minutes.

The dull ache in your side gradually sharpens to a piercing, acute point. Less so than before. It's more contained, and less frightening to feel the hole in your side.

Slowly, you draw your hand down to your jumpsuit. To your amazement, your jumpsuit is still bloody and torn through with a bullet, but through the hole in the fabric is a white bandage. Your fingers roam in a crawl. Bandages wrap over your chest, concentrating on a thick wad pressed directly against your wound. 

You turn a squinted gaze upon Sebastian. He lowers the document with a huff. Faintly, you can smell iron and a strange cleaner. A disinfectant maybe. A glance down to the floor where you previously laid and let your blood spill everywhere is now spotless. 

“Welcome back,” Sebastian cocks his head in your direction. Teal eyes search your expression in a lingering look. “I thought you would never wake up. The sweet sound of your insults was beginning to fade in my memory.”

Your answering groan is all you can give. Stretching your arms slowly and wiggling your toes, you realize you are, in fact, alive. 

And not one ferryman coin is lost from your pocket. A strange concoction of relief and confusion pools into your middle.

Sebastian’s third arm unfurls its claws. The bandages wrapped around the appendage are fresh and less bloody. You suppose he must know a thing or two about medical procedures.

“What did you do?” you ask, less accusatory than perhaps you intended, but all the same, curious. 

“Let’s not worry your pretty head about what I did,” Sebastian growls low. A warning sits in between his teeth. “Next time, don’t get shot.”

You glare up at him. “Not even gonna charge me, huh?”

A wicked grin crosses his mouth, set like a shark about to catch a minnow in its mouth. You stiffen, then cringe at the slight pain. You look down to find a medkit tucked into the waistband of your jumpsuit. Interesting. You haven’t bought one recently. There must be a painkiller or two in there, right? You’re starting to mercilessly spin with pain. 

Popping open the lid, you find just what you hoped for—worth far more than buried treasure. You quickly pop two pills into your mouth and swallow them dry. The weight of Sebastian’s eyes is inescapable. He follows the gulp down your throat.

“Unless you're going to buy anything else, you should get going, sweetheart. Shop’s closed.” His flukes slowly slip along the floor, unwinding his tail from where it keeps you secure in his grasp.

“Right.” A weariness clings to your edges, but your mind is aware. How long have you been resting?

Before you can truly pick yourself off the ground, Sebastian uses the flat of his flukes to scoot you across the floor and into the vent—all without aggravating your bandaged wound.

You don’t offer resistance, too bewildered by how he all but tosses you out. You scurry through the vent and out into the hallway. For one moment, almost breathlessly, you smile smugly.

What a soft-hearted bastard.

You straighten and take a step down the hallway, patting your pockets. Perhaps you’ll give him a few extra documents as a thank you—

But your pockets are empty, and your documents and every single last USB drive are gone.

[corroded-hellfire]

Can we get Reader’s first Mother’s Day after Eliza is born? I’m imagining Eliza in a little “I 🩷 Mommy” onesie.

Also manifesting a heartfelt moment between Reader & Ryan ok byeeeee ✌🏻

Eliza in onesie? Check. Heartfelt moment with Ryan? Check. Cheesiness? Check.

Words: 6.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

A low whining starts off slow but grows in both volume and intensity. The moment it registers in Eddie’s sleeping brain, he blinks his eyes open and is quick to grab the baby monitor and turn the sound down so it doesn’t wake you. Gently, he sets the monitor back down on his nightstand and rolls to look over his shoulder, checking to see if you’re still asleep. 

A sleepy smile grows on Eddie’s face as he watches you, still out like a light, lips parted, and curled up with the comforter tucked up over your shoulder. If he didn’t have to get up to get your daughter, your husband would burrow under the blankets and cuddle up against you for the rest of the morning. But today is all about you and that starts with Eddie getting up bright and early so you don’t have to.

The moment the door to Eliza’s nursery cracks open, her whines go from half-hearted to insistent. She knows someone is there and she is going to make damn sure they hear her and come get her. 

“Hey, there’s my little sunshine,” Eddie says as he steps into the nursery. 

Eliza watches him with her wide brown eyes as he goes over to her pink curtains, parting them to let some light filter into the room. The sun isn’t even fully out yet, but the brightening gray sky provides enough of a shine to see by.

“How’d you sleep, hmm?” Eddie asks as he picks the seven-month-old up out of her crib. 

Her chubby little fingers instantly grab at the shoulder of Eddie’s faded Hellfire shirt. She sighs contently when her dad presses a few kisses into the wispy baby hairs at her temple. 

“You hungry?” 

The rest of the house is silent as the two make their way to the kitchen. Eliza’s little hums and coos keep her occupied, like she’s having some sort of conversation, as Eddie sets her into her Disney princess highchair.

“I’ll heat up a bottle and then we’ll go watch some TV, okay?” Eddie asks the baby through a yawn.

He receives no reply as he pulls a prepared baby bottle out of the refrigerator and pops it into the microwave. As it heats up, Eddie goes around the kitchen, pulling out a frying pan, a spatula, and some cooking spray. Eliza watches with curiosity, but the moment the microwave beeps, her eyes snap in that direction, and she whines to get the attention of her father.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Eddie says, ruffling the tiny bit of hair that Eliza has as he passes by her.

The milk passes the wrist temperature test, so Eddie scoops his daughter up and makes his way into the living room with her. 

“Okay,” he says through another yawn. “What should we watch? Let’s see what’s already in the DVD player. Oh, you like Hercules. Perfect.”

Eddie presses play on the remote and settles down on the couch with Eliza. He kicks out his plaid pajama clad legs and rests his feet on the coffee table as he situates Eliza against his body so he’s best able to feed her. 

The little girl eagerly accepts her food, snuggling back against her dad’s chest as she takes over the responsibility of holding the bottle. Her eyes remain trained on the screen as she drinks, Eddie becoming invested in the movie as well. He even starts to sing to her as she finishes up the last of her milk.

“Like a shooting star, I will go the distance

I will search the world, I will face its harms

I don’t care how far, I can go the distance

‘Til I find my hero’s welcome waiting in your arms.”

Bright, shining eyes stare up at Eddie, making him chuckle once the song is over. Eliza blinks a few times, her dark long lashes kissing her cheeks with each flutter.

“Like when I sing?” Eddie asks her. 

As a response, she drops her empty bottle and snuggles even further into her dad’s chest, making herself as comfortable as possible. Eddie gently rests his head atop her softer, smaller one and keeps watching the movie with her. 

About halfway through the movie, Ryan comes down the hallway, rubbing his left eye as he trudges into the living room. 

“Morning, pal,” Eddie greets.

“Mornin’,” Ryan answers, waving to his little sister as he passes the couch. 

Eddie turns his head to tell his son, “I got everything you’ll need out for you. On the counter by the stove. Well, you’ll need to get the food parts out of the fridge, but I got the other stuff.”

“Thanks,” Ryan says as he continues on to the kitchen. 

Now instead of the movie, Eddie’s attention is on any and all sounds coming from the kitchen. Yes, he trusts Ryan and knows he’s a competent kid—but he’s still only a twelve-year-old kid. After about ten minutes, Eddie can’t take it any longer and places Eliza in her pink flowery walker so he can go check in on his oldest son. 

Ryan’s doing surprisingly well. He has all the ingredients that he needs out, and he has everything set up around him. He’s about to open the carton of eggs when Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“Did you wash your hands before you started cooking?”

“Oh, right.” 

As Ryan goes over to the sink, Eddie hears “Hi, Eliza!” come from the living room. The heavy tread that accompanies the voice lets Eddie know exactly where Luke is until the ten-year-old pops up beside him.

“I’m hungry,” Luke says. 

Eddie musses up the boy’s curls and nods his head.

“Eliza and I will go wake up the star of the day and then I’ll make you breakfast.”

The door to your bedroom slowly swings open, the heads of your husband and daughter popping in. The moment Eliza’s gaze falls on you, she immediately wants to be brought to your side. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie whispers as he walks over to the bed. He sits down on his side of the bed and lets Eliza go, who wastes no time crawling over to you. She wraps her small arms around your head, hugging it, and making Eddie laugh. “Why don’t you give Mommy some kisses? Wake her up like Sleeping Beauty?”

Eliza just tilts her head to look up at him, not knowing what he means. Your husband demonstrates by leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. This motion is what wakes you up, but you give no sign of being conscious, enjoying listening to your husband and daughter. 

The infant does her best to copy her father, but really just slobbers on your face, which makes you laugh and peek your eyes open at her.

“Well, hello there,” you say, wiping baby drool off of your nose before it can run down any farther. 

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Eddie cheers, one hand on Eliza’s back as if he’s encouraging her to say it as well.

“Thank you, Sweet Pea.” You press a kiss to your daughter’s cheek. “And thank you, baby.” Eddie leans in and gives you a peck on the lips. “Where are my boys?”

“Ryan is actually preparing your first gift of the day,” Eddie explains. “And Luke is either helping him or being a pain in the ass.”

As if he knew he was being talked about, Luke rushes into the room and does a running jump onto the bed.

“I’m heeeeeeere!”

Your middle child belly flops on the foot of the bed before army crawling up to you and wrapping an arm around your neck to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he says.

“Thank you, honey.”

You take a look around at everyone on the bed and stick your lower lip out in a pout.

“I’m missing my oldest.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Eliza’s head and makes sure she’s securely between you and Luke before he gets up from the bed.

“Let me go check on him.”

While Eddie walks out of the room, Luke wriggles himself so his arms wrap around Eliza’s small frame and lays his head on your shoulder.

“So,” he says, looking up at you, his blue eyes full of excitement. “It’s a surprise but you gotta know so you’ll be ready on time so I’m gonna tell you my gift!”

“Ready on time?” you ask, brows pinching together.

“Mhmm!” Luke says, letting Eliza chew on his thumb. “The art studio near Dad’s work is having a special Mommy and Me painting day and you and I are gonna go!”

“Luke, that sounds perfect,” you say, a bright grin lighting up your face. “I can’t wait.”

Eddie steps back into the room with Ryan, who has batter smudged on his nose. 

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Ryan says, coming over and giving you a hug.

“Thank you, sweetheart. What have you been making a mess of?” you tease, poking his nose just below the smeared batter. 

“My present to you!” he says excitedly. “I made breakfast. Just for the two of us.”

A gasp of excitement escapes your lips, and you rest your forehead against Ryan’s.

“He’s even set up a nice place setting out on the porch for you guys,” Eddie adds. “I’ll be managing the gremlins inside.”

“Hey! Who you calling a gremlin?” Luke asks, sitting up and narrowing his eyes at his father.

As if in response, Eliza presses her hands flat against Luke’s stomach and gives him a push.

“He was talking about you too, you know,” Luke tells his baby sister with a sigh. She copies his sigh and flops dramatically across his lap. 

There’s a soft breeze outside as you sit across the table from Ryan, enjoying the French toast breakfast that he made for the two of you. Surprisingly, it tastes really good—better than any breakfast that’s been made for you in a long time.

“I think you should take over cooking for your dad from now on,” you tell Ryan with a playful smirk on your face. Before he can respond, your eyes catch on the mug sitting at your place setting. It’s white with a gold handle, and in the same golden color it says “World’s Best Mom” in a swoopy font.

For a moment you just stare at it, admiring it, and feeling your heart fill up with warmth. Carefully, you reach forward and lift the mug full of coffee towards you.

“This is beautiful, sweetheart,” you tell Ryan, looking at him over the rim of the mug. “Thank you.”

There’s a smile on Ryan’s face that’s a mixture of excitement and that mischievous look he used to get when he was a little boy. 

“You should look at the back,” he says as you’re mid-sip.

Once you swallow your mouthful of coffee, you slowly turn the mug one hundred and eighty degrees to take a look at the other side. The sight that greets you has your eyes immediately filling with tears. Printed on the mug is a family picture of the five of you—the very first picture the five of you had taken together after Eliza had been born. The newborn is still wrapped in her blanket from the hospital as you hold her while sitting on the couch, Eddie right beside you. On his other side is Luke, grinning that hundred-watt smile that can light up any room. And on your other side is Ryan, leaning in close because just before the picture was snapped, he had his head bent over Eliza and was telling her that she was home now. 

As much as you want to thank Ryan for the gift, your throat feels too constricted for words. 

“Oh my God,” you’re finally able to squeak out. It takes you another few moments before you can speak again. “Ryan, I absolutely love it. It’s perfect. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You set the mug back down on the table and open your arms for him. The oldest Munson boy pushes out of his chair and walks around the table, where you pull him into a bone crushing hug. He laughs as he wraps his arms around you to embrace you in return. Giving a little extra tug, you pull Ryan all the way into your lap, which has him laughing even harder. The pure joy his laughter radiates has you even more emotional than you already were. 

“I don’t care if you’re too big for this now!” you say, words muffled against his back. Ryan tries to situate himself a little better, so you loosen your grip but don’t let him go. He drops his head back, realizing he isn’t going to be let free just yet, and the way the back of his skull becomes cradled in the crook of your elbow reminds you of how you held Eliza when she was smaller. A chuckle stuffed with a dozen different emotions bubbles out of you and you smooth some of Ryan’s golden brown curls off his forehead. 

“I don’t care that you’ll be a teenager soon. I don’t care that you’re almost as tall as me. You’re still my little boy. You’ll always be my little boy.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of Ryan's mouth.

“I’m so lucky that you’re my son,” you say softly. 

Doe eyes that are so much like his father’s and his sister’s stare up at you from where his head rests on your arm, love and curiosity in his gaze.

“Did you love us before you loved Dad?” he asks.

It’s not something you expected him to ask, not something you thought about in a long time.

“That’s a tricky question,” you say, brows pinching together. “Because they’re different types of love. But, yeah, I did love you guys first. It was impossible not to after spending time with you.”

Ryan tilts his head, looking away pensively. He’s quiet and you wish you knew what was going on in his brilliant, beautiful mind.

“That’s pretty cool,” he finally says. “Some people have trouble finding the person they belong with. But you found three.” He smiles. “You were always meant to be my mom.”

The tears that began to build up earlier now fall down your cheeks and Ryan is quick to sit up and wipe them away. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

“It’s a good cry,” you assure him with a watery smile through your sniffles. “It’s very, very good.”

The second that you step through the door into the classroom where the Mommy and Me paint session is happening, Luke’s eyes go wide. All the art that hangs on the walls mesmerizes him as the two of you find a pair of empty canvases to sit at. 

Towards the back of the room, you and Luke take seats at a table on the left side. There are two easels perched on the table that hold blank white canvases. Between the two, there are a myriad of colored paints for you and Luke to share, as well as a variety of brushes of different sizes. 

You’re about to redirect Luke into a conversation with you because it seems like all the art surrounding him has him on overdrive, head constantly on a swivel in an attempt to see everything and you don’t want him to get overstimulated. But before you can open your mouth, the teacher at the front of the class calls for attention. 

“Happy Mother’s Day everyone!” she says. “I’m so glad that so many of you wanted to spend time painting with your moms today! I’m Hannah and I’ll be your instructor for this class.” Hannah explains the basic rules, how the class works, and offers to answer any questions. “Sometimes we have themes we work on in these classes, but I’m not here to tell you what to paint. But wouldn’t it be cool if each mom and child’s set of paintings had a common theme?”

Luke perks up at this, instantly loving the idea. He swivels to you in his seat and nods his head so emphatically he reminds you of a bobblehead doll.

When you’re given free rein to work on your paintings, Luke plucks a thin paintbrush out of the holder and taps it against his chin.

“What should we paint?”

“What about…the ocean?” you suggest. “You can paint the pirate ship that’s on top of the water and I can paint the mermaid that’s under the water.”

Luke gets very excited about your idea and nods enthusiastically once more. You swear, you feel like you have to stop him before a spring pops out of his neck. 

“Ooh! We should turn the canvases like this!” Luke tilts both canvases so they’re landscape and would look better one on top of the other.

“Very smart,” you praise. 

Luke appraises his canvas and decides where to start painting the bottom of his ship, when his eyes glance over to your blank canvas and he’s struck with an idea.

“You should make the mermaid look like Eliza! Not like…a baby, but with her color hair and eyes. And maybe a pink tail since she loves pink!”

You chuckle, eyes crinkling in the corner as you nod your head in agreement. “I can’t think of anyone who would make a more magical mermaid than your sister,” you say.

“You would,” Luke says casually as he dips his brush in some coppery-taupe paint. 

Warmth fills your body and your hand stalls on its way to grab a brush at his compliment. You make a mental note to ruffle his curls up later when your hands are clean and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Like The Little Mermaid?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Luke says, brush stroking from side to side to paint the broad side of the ship. “But, like, the Disney one, not the Brother’s Grimm one where she doesn’t break the spell in time and turns into seafoam.”

Your giggle was pink, the same shade that you’d chosen for your mermaid’s tail.

Conversation flows and ebbs easily between the two of you as the ninety-minute class ticks by—it’s always easy and never boring with Luke around. Occasionally, you ask one another for advice on your paintings or ask how something is coming along. Once the instructor announces that time is up, you and Luke clean up your area while the teacher goes from table to table, taking pictures of the mothers and children with their paintings.

When she gets to you, you squat down so that you can hold your mermaid below Luke’s pirate ship. The ten-year-old holds his painting below his chin, giving the camera a proud smile, while you’re out to the side of the paintings, also sporting a proud smile. But your pride isn’t in your artwork—it’s in having Luke as your son.

When the two of you get back home, Luke eagerly shows off your paintings and Polaroid to Eddie, who, of course, loves them. The photo immediately goes on the fridge, held up by Luke’s favorite Shrek magnet, and the paintings are set on the entertainment unit until you and Luke can find a good place to hang them. 

“Someone says she just woke up from her nap and is ready to hang out with Mommy,” Eddie sing-songs as he walks into the living room from the hall, where he was picking up the little Liza Bean from her nap time. Your favorite part, though, is that Eliza is wearing a white onesie that says “I 💜 Mommy.”

“Well, look at you!” you say, gleefully accepting your daughter from your husband. “And I heart Eliza! Mwah!”

“She’s got a surprise for you, too,” Eddie says.

You cock an eyebrow at your husband. “Oh, really? If it’s in her diaper I’m handing her back to you.”

Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“No, not in her diaper. But it is in the bathroom.”

“The bathroom?” you question. 

Eliza babbles as if she’s asking about the location as well.

“What are you asking for?” Eddie teases Eliza. “You know what it is.”

After a small boop to Eliza’s nose, Eddie slips his hand into yours and leads you into the master bathroom. Products in an array of colors are laid out on the counter and there’s a radio with a CD player tucked into the corner.

“What’s all this?” you ask, taking everything before you in. 

Eddie casually strolls over to the counter and begins to present the different items as if he’s Vanna White.

“Hair mask for Mom, baby oil for Eliza’s hair,” he begins. “Oh, don’t worry, before you ask, Eliza and I got help from the people at the store who actually knew what they were talking about. Right, baby girl? Right. Okay, so. Next, face mask for Mom, oatmeal lotion for Eliza’s face. Then, as you can see, you have a variety of scents to choose from for your luxurious bubble bath. And body lotion for Mom, and more baby oil for Eliza.”

You’re overwhelmed by everything Eddie prepared and look down at your daughter in your arms, smiling up at you with her single tooth proudly on display in her lower gums. You’re overcome with how adorable she is and need to nuzzle your face against hers.

“Are we having a Mommy and Eliza spa afternoon?”

“All her idea,” Eddie says, holding up his hands in front of him. 

With a chuckle, you step forward and press a soft, slow kiss to your husband’s lips.

“This is absolutely the sweetest thing ever,” you whisper against his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my love. You deserve some relaxation. Thought this would be some nice time for my girls.” Eddie’s eyes go back and forth from you to Eliza, Eliza to you, and the pure love that shines through his gaze is enough to get you tearing up again. 

“Isn’t Daddy the best?” you ask Eliza, who is too busy looking at everything laid out on the counter.

“I think she just wants to get to it,” Eddie says. “I’ll leave you girls to your spa.”

On his way towards the bathroom door, Eddie presses play and the CD in the player begins playing instrumental, lullaby covers of popular songs that you had purchased for Eliza. 

It makes you laugh, and Eddie gives you a wink, about to head out the door, but he stops short.

“Oh! One more thing.”

He steps back in and closes the door to reveal two lavender bathrobes hanging on the back, one that has “Mommy” embroidered on the back and one that says “Eliza.”

“Eddie!” You say his name with a gasp. “Oh my God, they’re so pretty.”

“Gotta keep my girls comfy even when they come out of the spa,” he says with another wink. “I’ll leave you girls to it.”

Once Eddie is gone and has shut the door behind him, you take a deep breath, wondering where to begin.

“Let’s see,” you say to Eliza. “What scented bubble bath should we use?”

Using one arm to grab all five different options, you lower yourself to the cold tile floor below and let Eliza rest between your spread legs. She leans against you and immediately picks up one of the bottles.

“Wanna try this one first? Okay. Let’s see, this is vanilla scented.” You unscrew the cap and take a sniff. It’s a faint smell, but it’s nice. When you offer it for Eliza to smell, she’s clearly unimpressed as she doesn’t even spare the bottle a second glance. “We’ll call that a maybe.” You set that one to the side and grab another bottle. Rose Water. The scent isn’t bad to you, but it immediately makes little Eliza sneeze. That one gets pushed farther away as you giggle at how adorable your little girl’s sneezes are. The third option is Cherry Blossoms and by the way Eliza wanted to take this bottle from your hands, you’d say she liked it. A definite contender since you enjoyed it as well. Tropical Mango is a hit with Eliza, not so much with you, and Citrus smelled nice and clean but Eliza wrinkled up her nose more than you’ve ever seen her do before. Cherry Blossoms it is.

You let Eliza stay seated on the floor and push the other bottles around while you get up to run the bath water and add the bubbles. Next up, adding the baby oil to Eliza’s hair proves amusing because she keeps trying to roll her eyeballs up high enough to see what you’re doing. It’s impossible not to giggle and you press a kiss to her nose. 

“Silly girl.”

Adding your own hair mask is much simpler, but Eliza still studies you, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through her little mind as she watches you now—never mind what goes on in your house on a day-to-day basis. 

“You ready for the water?” 

Carefully, you step into the tub—making sure both facemasks are within reach—and lower both you and Eliza into the warm water and bubbles. 

The seven-month-old clearly isn’t sure how she feels about sitting in the water at first, but once she realizes you’re sitting in there with her and it’s warm, she likes it. Slowly, she begins to get a little more adventurous and starts to make small splashes. These amuse her greatly until the bubbles start growing higher; then she seems a little concerned by them. All it takes is you scooping some up in your hand and blowing on them so they scatter and fly around to catch the baby’s attention again. She sits facing you and you gather enough suds to give her a bubble beard. This tickles her both literally and figuratively because she can’t stop laughing once it’s on her. 

The sound is pure joy and so infectious. You laugh with her, silently wishing she could always be this happy. 

The song on the CD changes to the instrumental, lullaby version of You’re My Best Friend by Queen. 

“I love this song,” you tell her. 

“Ooh, you make me live

Whatever this world can give to me

It’s you, you’re all I see

Ooh, you make me live now, honey

Ooh, you make me live.”

Eliza is mesmerized by your singing, and it makes you chuckle. She rests her head against your chest but the oil in her hair has her head slipping around, making you laugh even more. 

With a sigh, you sink a little further into the water to relax.

“When you’re old enough to head bang,” you say, “I’ll teach you Bohemian Rhapsody. But fair warning, once you can head bang your dad is gonna make you do it to his music all the time.”

After you’ve soaked for a bit and both your and Eliza’s fingers are pruny, you reach over the side of the tub and grab the face mask and oatmeal lotion. First you apply Eliza’s and you’re surprised at how still she sits and lets you rub it around her face. Maybe it feels nice to her, just like a facial should. As you apply the mask to your skin, Eliza starts to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” you ask her.

Her ferocious giggles continue, and you realize she must be laughing at how you look because she looks silly even in her little oatmeal mask. The two of you laugh and you have to hold Eliza steady because even though she’s getting very good at sitting up on her own now, she’s laughing so hard that she keeps almost falling over. 

Taking a washcloth, you first gently take off Eliza’s mask and then your own. Though her giggles have subsided, Eliza looks up at you with a smile on her lips and a glimmer of happiness in her eyes. 

“This isn’t my first Mother’s Day,” you tell her, voice soft at first, “but it’s my first one with a baby. My little Sweet Pea. You and your brothers—and your dad—made this such a wonderful day. I’m so lucky to have you all. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. I’d like to think you chose me, anyway.”

The little girl puckers her lips and makes a smacking sound as if she blew you a kiss.

“Right back atcha, kid.”

As soon as you get both of your hairs rinsed out, all you can think about is the soft plush bathrobe that’s awaiting you. But first, lotion. As you apply yours to your body, Eliza watches the water go down the drain of the tub with complete fascination. She peeks over the side of the tub, mesmerized with the whirlpool collecting near the pulled plug. 

“Ready to be moisturized?” you ask her once all the water has disappeared. “Want that baby smooth skin?” Your own joke makes you laugh as you pop the top on the baby oil.

Eliza isn’t used to the sensation of having something slick on her skin. The slightly furrowed brow and the way she keeps running her hands lightly over her arms tells you she isn’t sure how she feels about it. 

The time has now come for the bathrobes. The mini one comes off its hook first. It’s a little difficult to maneuver her body into the robe, but you soon get it situated on her and tie the fuzzy belt at her waist. She is a purple marshmallow, and the cuteness threatens to make your heart burst. A pleasurable sigh hums through you as you slip into your own robe. The way it feels like you’re wearing a pillow and cuddled up cozy but not constricted or overheated has you daydreaming about wearing this every single day. 

“Come on you,” you say, picking up your fashion twin. “Let’s go see Daddy.”

Footsteps approach the living room and Eddie turns his head from the television to see you and Eliza making your entrance. A laugh of amusement falls from your husband’s lips.

“Look at my girls! A vision in purple!”

You walk around the couch and sit down on his lap, holding Eliza on your own.

“Tell Daddy that we had a nice relaxing time.”

“Good,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your cheek. A strong hand rubs up and down your back and it relaxes you even further. 

“Where are the boys?” you ask, voice sounding slightly distant as his touch lulls your body practically pliant.

“In the kitchen,” Eddie says, “going over the takeout menu for the Chinese place a few blocks over. So we’ll probably see them in an hour or two.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you snuggle up against your husband, your baby cocooned between you.

“I love Chinese food.”

“That’s why we’re getting it, princess. It’s your day,” Eddie tells you before looking down at your daughter. “Right, Liza?”

Eliza simply blinks at him in response and buries her face in the soft fabric of your robe.

“Oh,” Eddie says as a thought resurfaces in his mind. He looks over the back of the couch to make sure neither of the boys are coming. “I have to tell you what Luke said. And, well, Ryan too.”

“What is it?”

Eddie’s smile is one filled with happiness and pride and it’s making you all the more curious. 

“When you were in the bathroom—excuse me, I mean spa—Luke was telling us about the art class and how much fun it was. Then he kind of pauses and says, ‘You know…no, never mind. It will sound stupid.’ But I was like, come on, what’s on your mind, kid? And he goes, ‘I’ve always known how much Ryan and I are loved by everyone; our family. But I guess seeing how we’re treated the same way…’ And then he trailed off and sighed, and I think he couldn’t figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. But I guess Ryan knew where he was going because he took over. He says, “We’re not treated any differently than Eliza. We’re all…’ Then he trailed off, but I caught where they were going then. So, I said, ‘You’re all her kids. Each one of you three is just as much her child as the other two. There’s no difference.’”

Tears flood your eyes but you’re not entirely sure what emotion is provoking them.

“They thought—” your voice cracks and you can’t continue.

“No, no, hey,” Eddie reassures you. “Both of them said it was something they never thought about. Not even after Eliza was born. But I guess a kid in Luke’s class or something says his stepdad doesn’t treat him like his son and Luke thought that was crazy. All he’s known since he was five is you loving him as if he’s your own. Because he is your son. Then I guess Luke talked to Ryan about it and they thought back and couldn’t think of a time where you treated Eliza as more important than them. I think it was an emotional revelation. One that they don’t take lightly. They know that they’re your babies, too. God, I wish you could’ve seen the looks on their faces when we were talking about this. Just the pride they have that you’re their mom. That you chose them and love them as fiercely and deeply as possible. Sweetheart, the only thing that was my idea today was the spa with Eliza. Everything with the boys? That all came from them. I hope you know how much they love you.”

“I do,” you admit with a sniffly smile, cheeks completely stained with tear tracks. “They chose me too. They’re my sons.”

Eliza looks up at you and babbles and coos, clearly wanting to be part of this conversation. 

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her insistence and Eddie takes the opportunity to wipe your face. 

“And you’re my daughter,” you say to Eliza. 

“No denying that with how much you look like Mommy, huh?” Eddie says, running the back of his forefinger down Eliza’s soft, chubby cheek. 

“Hey!” Luke says as the boys come back into the room, Ryan holding the takeout menu in his hand. “Why didn’t we get matching robes too?”

“The color clashes with your skin,” Eddie quips.

“I’d like to be included in these things is all I’m saying,” Luke says as he sits on the couch perpendicular to the one you’re on.

Ryan perches on the arm of the couch you’re on and opens the menu.

“We figured out what we want,” Ryan says, offering the menu to Eddie. “We circled them.”

“In red pen,” Luke adds. “The blue pen is from the last time we ordered.”

“Red pen,” Eddie repeats. “Got it.” 

Reluctantly, you slip off of his lap so he can go call and make the order. Truthfully, you’d rather stay curled up in your husband’s lap, forget the Chinese food, and survive on Eddie’s cuddles alone.

“Want your usual, babe?” Eddie asks you.

“Yes please.”

The sound of footsteps fades the closer Eddie gets to the kitchen. You wave both of the boys over to come sit with you.

“Boys,” you stage whisper.

They come over, Luke plopping down on your left side and Ryan hunkering down on your right. Gently, you tuck Eliza between your and Ryan’s bodies before you wrap an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders and pull them in for a hug.

“Thank you for—oh, yes, Eliza you’re included in this too,” you say when Eliza harrumphs at you. “Thank you for the most amazing Mother’s Day. This was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

“In your whole life?” Luke asks.

“In my whole life,” you affirm. “And thank you all for making me a mom. It’s the hardest but coolest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Being your kid is pretty cool, too,” Luke says. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Eliza knows that as soon as she understands words.”

With a tired but content smile, you lean back against the cushions on the couch and immediately feel little hands and knees digging into various parts of your body as Eliza climbs up your body and makes herself comfortable, her clean head and hair coming to rest on your chest. From the position you were in when you hugged the boys, your arms are still stiff and wide open, and Luke is the first to take advantage of that.

He tucks himself into your side, resting his head on your shoulder. Ryan copies his actions (instead of the other way around for a change) and leans against your right side, careful of Eliza’s tiny head that is so close to his. 

For a few moments you just sit there, thinking. Enjoying this time, with all three of your children in your arms. You close your eyes and savor it, just you and your babies in this moment.

Eddie strolls back in from the kitchen.

“Food is on its way—oh. Well, don’t we all look comfortable?” Eddie smiles as his gaze roams over the couch, taking in every detail of the four of you. His oldest babies who helped get him through one of the worst periods of his life. You, the great love of his life who saved him in every possible way. And the small baby girl that the two of you created together. 

You tilt your head and rest it against Luke’s, looking up at Eddie with a soft smile. 

His eyes meet yours and no words need to be said. Everything you need to express to one another is in that look. The love, the happiness, the gratefulness. Both of you realize the million and one things that had to line up just right for this moment to be a reality. It’s exciting to think about what the choices that were made today will lead you to in your future together. Only time will tell—and right now? This particular moment is one you’d like to pause. Maybe pause it until you can wring every moment of blissfulness from it that you possibly can. But you already know that would be impossible—the joy in this moment is endless.

[smuttyaf]

You Can Be My Daddy

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐞.

wc; 10k | part one

lil bit of submissive!h. implied age gap! don’t read if it makes you uncomfy!!

Fingers dripping in saliva swiftly zip Harry back up, your rising chest settles down from its previous movements with heels taking steps back to create space between your teacher.

And as he swallows heavily with hands going to his belt and looping it around his waist, the door knob is turning and eerily creaking open, little time to comprehend the sudden intrusion.

Harry tries to focus on fixing himself back up but can’t help catch sight of your movements.

Palms swiping across your skirt heavily, tongue peaking out of your mouth to catch whatever aftertaste of him lapped around your lips just as you lean over to grab your things. His boss is stepping through the door making the atmosphere strained yet, that sight alone has Harry wanting to bend you over right then and there.

“Oh! Hello miss, surprised to see you!”

Wobble of a smile tugs on the ends of Harry’s lips, but bunny, she’s beaming. Flush of pink roaming amongst her cheeks accentuating her happy smile, steps swaying with subtle lifts of beat as if not touching him a few seconds ago.

“Yes! Well, I was just asking Mr. Styles this question about Marie Antoinette, our term paper is coming up.” Voice not wavering with eye contact stern when she passes him.

And Harry, he can’t help but notice how quick you are to lie; how you’re so good at it. Almost too easy to believe but you’re doing it, because the expression over Mr. Bennett's face is one of being intrigued.

“Ah, yes! Marie Antoinette, so misunderstood.” His body stepping back as he holds the door open. “I’m sure you will do well. I read your piece in the school paper; I must applaud you for your insight on Maslow, I never would’ve thought you’re familiar with his work.”

“Yes, I am. His argument on self-actualization is said in such great detail, his work is truly something.” Innocence shining through your expression of doe eyes and nodding head. The fact he’s even commenting on your published column only adds to your sweet image. “I should really get going now, goodbye Mr. Bennett.”

Harry’s thankful you don’t acknowledge him as you leave. Beer belly principal nodding his head stiffly as he goes to close the door.

Now without you by his side does he begin to sweat; knuckles flexing, jaw tensing, and lips still smiling tightly. He tries to reel it in for the sake of his job that he put on the line.

“Such a lovely girl,” He compliments as Harry makes his way towards his desk. Fingers fumbling over his paperwork looking for the report.

“Y —Yes, an excellent student.” Harry sighs once your name comes into view. He twists towards the gray haired man trying to conceal his worked up nerves.

“Thank you!” He smiles, head bowing delighted that it’s finished before stepping closer.

Mr. Bennett’s gaze is heavy as it roams over Harry. The nervous twitch of his nostril, diverating eyes and shallow breath. Inspecting every inch of him looking to catch anything off about Harry’s appearance.

“May I ask what her question was?”

His fingers curl in on each other at the sudden request catching him off guard. His boss can probably see the distress written all over his face, especially with the way he clears his throat and shifts on his feet.

“I’m sorry?” He asks, green eyes squinting to look at the principal with a confused glare.

“The question about Marie Antoinette, what was it?” Mr. Bennett responds, his bushy brows perk up as he leans on the desk.

The charm that bunny has, the one that graced this very room now leaves it empty, having him hanging by a thread. You managed to get away with your lie, but Harry, he has to continue it thinking fast on his feet to catch up.

“Uh, Marie Antoinette… her uh, saying…” He clears his throat, hand raising to his mouth coughing tensely trying to get rid of the strain on his throat. “Let them eat cake, I was explaining to her that it was just hear-say, actually coined from Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a book created way before the existence of Marie.”

The older man relaxes, tongue swiping across his dry lips as he nods once more. Satisfied smile stretches deeper amongst his features, index finger tapping into the wood of his desk as he leans off.

“Just testing…” Wink dropping before he’s turning around on his heels. Harry relaxes tremendously with shoulders subsiding and heart easing in pace as he watches him retreat to the door.

“Don’t need any new rumors, especially with parents' interviews coming up, now do we?” Mr. Bennett turns towards him, gaze running down Harry’s frame, stern sight yet delighted grin.

“Of course not sir.” He replies, nodding his head as he tracks the door swinging shut.

Harry can’t help the way his body twists around, hands combing through his hair as he tries his best to refrain from hitting himself.

How stupid can he be? That was too close of a call. If you were on your knees any longer he would’ve been packed up, sent away, and forbidden to even show his face again.

If you weren’t so passive about the situation he would have given up the facade and begged to keep his job… yet, you made it so easy covering up the moment with a shining grin and persuasive small talk. This time you both got lucky, but what about next time?

Should he even think there is one? Is he crazy to think that? Probably. He shouldn’t be fascinated or find you appealing, but he does.

He wants the sweet taste of you back on his lips… and the feeling of your hands drawing down him with that warm wet mouth just covering him all over. God, he’ll do anything to feel you again and that’s fucked up to think, but now that he’s finally had a taste he wants more. He can’t help but want more.

Harry knows it’s foolish, purely stupid, but even you yourself said it; he’s your daddy and you’re his bunny.

And, you do what you always do, be a tease.

You’re so tempting it’s hard not to notice. With your cherry lips and adorable giggle heard when passing in the hall.

Your skirt is rolled up even higher now, breast more sheen through your button up, and when you sit in front of him in class always focused with tongue glossing over your lips. It reminds him of the weeks prior, how his bunny sucked him up deliciously… how you loved every moment with dirty words and welcoming throat.

He can’t get you off his mind bunny, you’re all he thinks about in his mundane life of teaching and lacrosse. You make things so exciting, so thrilling, he likes knowing the fact he finally has your attention.

You continue to dip your back letting him see your panties, a different colour everyday of the week; sometimes lacy, sometimes plaid, but either way he enjoys the view. Harry especially likes it when you begin signing your nickname at the top of your page for tests, risky, but it entringes him even more.

It’s like right now, your eyes are following his every move when speaking about The French Revolution. Showing how attentive and perfect you are. He tries to ignore your plush mouth and drawing gaze, but he can’t help to float back over your appearance for a little while.

He wraps up the end of the class thirty minutes early, introducing the homework to be done by tomorrow and also suggesting if needing any help for the upcoming paper, that he’s all ears.

And of course, his bunny is by his side. Captivating smile shining to the bounce of your mary jane’s. Harry bites down on his lip, catching sight of your thigh highs and prominent tits. You sure know how to get his attention.

“Mr. Styles,” Long drawl of his name singing in your sweet voice. Leather clad foot resting along the heel of your shoes when leaning into the desk.

“I couldn’t understand this excerpt from yesterday.”

He knows you're lying, knows you’re way too smart not to understand something so easily explained in the textbook, but he can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes him when leaning forward in his chair.

As you place the book onto the desk he catches sight on the folded paper stuck between the spine. His throat clears, eyes shifting towards you who smiles softly at him.

His hands peel away from his arm rest and collects the thick book in his palms, shoulders turning towards you looking down at him curiously.

“This part over here, it states Marie betrayed France by telling the Austrian invaders, why would she do that?”

As the words you speak trail out as foolishness your finger points to the large text box pertaining to your question till it soon slides between the middle and lets the note fall down on the desk. Harry watches it all, his eyes trained on your finger dragging across the rest of the glossy page with fake confusion.

You want his attention so bad, look at you.

Leaning over his desk with flirty gaze and teasing smile, your breasts sparkling in his vision with the way your back curves. It’s sickening how you get away with it, how no one realizes how persuading you are at this moment but him.

“Well, yes, she betrayed the battle plans of the French in hope that they would be defeated and the monarchy restored.” He responds swiftly, hands closing the book while turning to look at you. “Does that answer your question?”

Plump lips curve against the beaming smile of your teeth, slow bob of your head lightly shifting your breasts that Harry can’t help but lick his lip at the sight. Your hand reaches out and accepts the book, hugging it into your chest before stepping away.

“Yes, thank you sir.” Heels retreating back to your desk in a sway of suggestive hips.

Harry watches you take your seat, skirt twisting with eyes tracking back to him, another tug of your lips following before you’re opening your textbook and starting the assigned work.

And he waits a few moments, letting himself look busy flipping through his agenda of drills for the lacrosse practice this afternoon. Fingers fiddling with the ends of the page before taking the note up and unraveling it.

You’re all I can think about…

His heart goes all warm, stomach clenching and veins pulsing to his dick. The neat cursive written in the middle of the torn piece of paper is a kept secret between you and him. Harry can't help but look up at you.

Completely focused on the question at hand, brows pushed together and pen breaking through your lips. You’re concentrated on keeping up your grades, you’re perfect image.

Harry has to sit back in his chair and simply just applaud you. You disguise your true self so well bunny, being the good girl that you are, the one you pretend to be.

But, it’s with his eyes trained on you does he catch Calie passing a note towards Finn. The red head laughs to himself over it before it’s passing behind him to Emmet. The telephone string of the paper from sender to receiver a mess between rushed hands.

He watches closely as it shifts throughout the room, polished nails or bitten ones taking it and passing it onto the next. From Emmet to Astrid, and then Bella to Gabriel until it’s being poked on the elbow of you.

Bunny? What’s this? Someone else on your mind and not him… you should know better than that. Who else races your mind if not him?

Harry can’t stop his nose from flaring as he sees you take it with a smile on your lips accepting the sheet.

“Y/N, would you like to share the note with the rest of the class.”

Your head picks up; eyes wide, fingers curling around the paper, and cheeks heating up noticing that you’re caught.

Snickers of students and grinning faces fill the air over the interruption of free time. They’re just as intrigued with who could’ve been the source just as much as Harry is.

“Hmm?” He continues, sight watching heavily on the way you bite your lip before looking between him and the note.

Your throat clears with fingers peeling it open, deep breath floating in the ruffle of chairs and whispers.

“Um, w —will you meet me after dinner tonight, Luca,” Voice wavering as you swallow heavily, sight catching between Harry and the blonde boy. He sits in the front right hand corner of the room shuffling in his seat, brows raised with the same expression written over his face like his bunny.

So, he’s the one who has your attention, not Harry who should be front and center. His own right wing of defense spending time with you. It’s comical and everyone in the room thinks it’s funny too.

Harry cracks his knuckles in the teasing atmosphere of you distraught that you got caught. You were just sweet talking your way with him minutes ago, and now your mind is elsewhere. Don’t you know better than that?

“Please remember that there will be no passing notes in my class.”

Your lashes flutter at him before turning to look at Luca. Chummy grin with back slouching against the chair, his eye drops into a wink that leaves you tugging your lips into a smirk.

You don’t care… of course you don’t. You have anyone that desires you hanging in front of your face by a thread while you pull the strings whenever bored.

Harry tries not to be mad, tries to reel in his nerves as you flash your eyes at the shaggy blonde as if it’s just the two of you. You’re so naughty toying with him.

This isn’t his bunny. The one who’s so attentive and pleasing. No, you’re doing more to prove how smart you truly are, the tease you love to be.

Thick blades of grass squish amongst the feet of intense movements. Cleats cutting through swiftly as they pick up from the bodies charging down the field, yellow tinged ball crossing in the air as blue and green jerseys drift by.

It’s a beautiful day outside, the trees rustling against the subtle wind from the spring breeze transitioning into the summer season. Colleagues roaming amongst the grounds on their own destinations to distinct quarters, or students still lounging in their uniforms watching the school team practice and you just so happen to be there.

Academy gym shorts with matching t-shirt relaxing on the field, badminton rackets by each of your friends as you giggle looking towards the team.

Harry can’t help his eyes glazing over your taunt frame. Perky backside and charming aura working for not only him, but the player on the team who just so happened to score in the scrimmage at hand.

He watches the way you smirk before turning to your friends who bump shoulders with you, teasing each other with pointed glaces and twisting feet.

Look at you, so happy to give your attention away; to show you have other options, one that leaves Harry jealous and fighting to regain focus.

“Alright, I’m calling it in.” Ed nods to him once checking his watch. That’s his cue to trail across the field while the head coach draws the team in.

The nylon of his pants swishes with each stride before he’s leaning down collecting the pylons. His body makes its way across the field picking up the yellow plastic, white lines shifting his version that he doesn’t realize he’s near you. Close enough to see your gleaming smile and hear little about the conversation in the group.

It’s when leaning down to pick up the equipment do your eyes catch on each other. Head swishing to the side as you smile happily. Your finger twirls the ends of your hair with body shifting against the grass as you ignore whatever words are being said.

Harry watches clearly the way your head twists around and slowly, but subtly nods towards the array of trees that comb over the grounds of the school. Your eyebrows raise in question before listening to your friends.

Was this your plan all along? With your friends too distracted with each other to realize your actions to lure him out there. Was this what you were plotting this whole time? Low waisted shorts and dreamy eyes simply directing him where to meet once practice is over.

You’re too good at this, too conceited and happy to get whatever you want. Even if you were just delighted to have Lucas' attention you still want more.

Harry trails his view off you when picking up the remaining equipment before joining the team for the cool down of the practice.

He puts all the pinneys and pylons together, palms securing everything in their respective bags until he’s tugging off towards the equipment room. His body carried him down the flight of stairs while looking out towards the window just parallel to the steps.

Harry watches your body stalking into the woods and he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the end of his lips as he goes down the rest of the stones.

Leaves and sticks crunch below your Converse, fingers feeling over the light green blades that feels like velvet against the pad of your skin. The tug at the end of your lip is hard not to resist with your veins pulsing at what could possibly happen if you see Mr. Styles again.

This game of cat and mouse was your specialty, being able to have your way with teachers and peers so attractive and delectable. You could always tell with their breath catching and shaky voice that it was right to purpose the match.

Your perfect grades and kind attitude shines over your deeper thoughts, your favorite desires, the ones that have you tugging your way into the forest of the school right now.

Your head twists up to catch shadows of the trees as your steps still venture out east of the school, far from the usual make out spots on the property.

Will he even come? The way he turned away from you on the field was giving he wasn’t even interested, and all because of Luca and his dumb note; the one you got called out on.

You like having your secrets unknown to each other, all your lies being covered with pearly white teeth and bending spine. You were subtle with handing your own note off to your favorite teacher, if it all went well then you were certain he would show up to meet. But your boy toy around school had other plans when deciding to get you tangled in your tactics.

Stuttering and looking up at Mr. Styles caught in the aftermath of flirty eyes and bouncing breasts. You hate that he had ruin your chances, you’re not quite sure when you’ll be near your teacher again without it being so obvious from friends and peers. It was such a risky game that you loved to play despite having yourself caught up last semester.

It’s a good thing you’re so good at batting your lashes and talking so sweetly you managed to get away, but now it was a tab left in your mother’s mind and it certainly wounded your step-father. Your right hand goes to your mouth and begins to chew on your nail from the anxiety festering from the memories. You need to be sharper and have all your little white lies arranged better, you can’t manage to slip up again.

Steps finally come to a halt, body twisting around to rest along the wide tree with unruly bushes growing around it. Perfect. Your back slouches against the stumb as your hand tears away from your mouth.

You could barely see the field or the school's architecture from your place. You can only hope Mr. Styles would find you if he was still interested.

He has to be… he still stares at you longingly especially on your lips. Bet he’s remembering your moment together, the one that you can’t stop thinking about. How he made your throat swell and voice all raspy… how you had to pretend in front of the principal you didn’t just swallow your teacher's load.

You want more of him. He’s all you think about when Luca would he kissing down your neck or when your step-father is in your ear whispering how much he misses you, Mr. Styles was the only one on your mind when everything would be happening.

When the thick Bradford accent on the other end of the phone describes everything he would do, all you can think of is your teacher and what he would do in his place. Where his hands would spread amongst your body, or where his lips would find themselves on your skin.

The cracking of branches brings you out of your thoughts, your fingers running over the ends of your shorts as you see brown hair come into sight.

So he did show up, trialing after you like you thought he would. The ends of your lips curl up as you relax deeper into the wood. Mr. Styles continues his steps into the space, his eyes darting around until you whistle sweetly to catch his attention.

“Fancy seeing you around,” You perk up, feet crossing over each other as you watch him make his way over.

His body covered in a black tracksuit certainly making him appealing with his bulky frame. Humming softly your tongue peeks out to swipe along your bottom lip. The thoughts of him manhandling you from your teasing ways makes your clit begin to swell.

“Bunny…” He greets with hands wrapping around your waist. Tall frame pushing you deeper into the stumb as he looks over your face.

“Daddy…” You utter, peering up at him through doe eyes, the same ones that have him falling every time.

“I missed you,” Whispering up at him sweetly. Your hands leave your shorts to pull at the band of his track pants.

Those words have the teacher surveying your every feature with fingers curling tighter around your hips. Mr. Styles is so handsome with his grainy stubble and board chest. The way he’s pining you into the tree has you moaning quietly as you straighten your back.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” His words send a wave of annoyance through you. The eye roll you find yourself doing is completely unintentional as your head knocks into the wood.

“That wasn’t my fault,” You huff, fingers snaking along his boxers while looking up at him.

“Oh, really?” Playful cheer in the teacher’s voice as his palms venture down your hips and feel over your cheeks. The motions so possessive from his huge hands that the moan that trails from you has him groaning as well.

“It wasn’t, because you know…” Mr. Styles' face draws closer with each word as he towers over you. “You’re all I can think about.”

The pads of your fingers gaze across his happy trail, mouth parting slightly as you lift yourself onto your toes closer to him, the taste that you’ve been craving just inches away.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

His teasing tone and rough hands have you begging just to close the space around him. It’s why your nails leave scratches against the older man’s skin, whining high in your throat so desperate for him.

“All the time,” Warmth of your movements draw deeper down his pelvis. “I think about you when I shower in the morning… touching myself thinking you're there with me.”

Deep growl rumbles through Mr. Styles, his teeth biting into his lip as he steps closer. His hips parallel with yours as you curl your hand around his cock, thick bead of pre-cum smearing along his crown as you keep your gaze strong.

“Having me up against the wall, water between us… daddy, I always imagine how good you would fuck me.” Torturing him with your lewd thoughts whenever alone and thinking about your favorite person.

“Just stretching me out all nice and wide… you’re so big… all nice and thick, I still remember how you fucked my throat.” The older man can’t stop himself from landing a furious smack against your ass. Tiny squeak leaving you as you fall to your heels.

“What else do you think about princess?” He ask, lips so dangerously close your breath is wavering.

Your hand grips tighter around Mr. Styles cock, his hips inching closer to you as he palms over your backside. Happy would be an understatement about how you feel at the moment. He’s finally here and under your spell again, just the way you like him.

“I think about you beneath me…” Tongue skimming across your flesh as you slide down him with ease, the fluid drawing from him makes the twist of your movements much easier as he leans in deeper.

“Kissing down my stomach, feeling up my thighs, licking where I want you the most,” Lashes flutter as his mouth inches closer and closer to you. “Don’t you think about my pussy daddy?”

Those very words have him capturing your lips with his. The muted taste of peppermint lingering along his tongue rubs against yours, spit being exchanged with haste as he can’t help his fingers from slinking between your thighs and feeling over the very place you want him.

He’s rubbing the spot there, rough ends of his digits massaging over your clothed area. It’s harsh and swift as they draw down your folds, an electric surge tingling down your spine feeling him around you all over again.

Mr. Styles is all rugged with his growing beard and bulky frame. He could easily manhandle you any kind of way but he treats you so delicately. You couldn’t imagine how he’ll spread you nice and wide, it’s all that’s been on your mind when you pass by him in the hall or stare up at him in class. Those very thoughts that have you breaking away from the kiss with a whimper.

“How I’ll feel around you…” Fingers contracting around his length as you bow your eyes at him slowly. “How I’ll stretch around you…” Lips curling in on each other savoring the taste of him on your buds. “How I taste… don’t you think about that a lot Mr. Styles… how my pussy would taste on your tongue?”

And he’s groaning in his throat, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip as his hands leave their position and drape to their previous one. His head cranes down to press wet kisses along the expanse of your neck, your hips being held strongly against the bark.

“Yes bunny… I do.” Your head turns against the wood from the adrenaline coursing through, his breath drapes warm and heavy amongst your skin that you moan at the feel.

In his new position you retrieve your hands and place them on either side of his face, your eyes watching closely as he breathes over your belly button with sight connecting to yours.

His hands drag up and down the expanse of your stomach before his fingers catch onto the band of your shorts, head wandering deeper down and staring up at you while doing so.

The lined cotton shorts that once grace your hips draw down swiftly with your panties, they pool around your feet with his hands drawing back up your naked thighs, feverish pecks roaming over your abdomen until pressing into your love handles.

“Oh daddy… won’t you make me feel good?” Fingers curling into his hair and ruffling with it. You always wanted to do that. Feel his hair rubbing against your stomach and kisses littering your inner thigh, it’s finally happening and you couldn’t be more excited.

Mr. Styles is looking up at you, sun highlighting the green in his eyes and his long lashes that blink up. And with the soft breeze whisking itself through the forest do you whimper at the feeling of it passing through your lower half.

“Yes, bunny.” Said so deep and husky that your fingers scratch along his scalp. His hand that dragged along your thigh urges your leg up, you don’t hesitate to prop it up your side with his help to keep it there.

Mr. Styles breath floats along your inner thighs, light smears of his wet lips pressing along the skin that you whine high in your throat. You don’t know how much time you have, but you doubt anyone is looking for either of you or going further past the school grounds to come look. You’re sure you’re safe but still, there’s always the possibility of someone seeing or finding you.

It’s why all movements are so rushed yet lucid, his tongue dragging sloppily along your thighs as he moves towards your pussy. A relieving sigh leaving when his tongue skims over your folds, eyes still locked on each other as his grip tightens over you.

“Daddy,” Soft call of his name trailing out as he leans in again to lick you, a pleasant hum vibrates over you that your eyes bat slowly at the feel.

The delicious drag of his tongue lying flat against your pussy as he draws his head up in lengthy strides makes your foot bend in your Converse. This is what you’ve always dreamt about; his tongue eating you out, and it’s even better that you tell he’s enjoying it with his fingers scratching into your skin all hungry.

“Like how I taste, daddy?”

A deep groan pulsates throughout you to answer which has your head knocking back into the tree. Sweet moan falling from your lips as your knee against the stumb bends a bit, pussy sinking deeper against Mr. Styles tongue as he draws up your folds.

One hand leaves his curls and goes towards the one holding your thigh up, his head rocking up and down in rush strides that you begin following his movements. Wet muscle flexing against every swivel and drag, his forest orbs loving the way your lips fall apart and moan from his touch. He lets you take charge and ride his tongue just the way you like if that's the attention you need… the attention you deserve.

His tongue drags up along your clit and in the moment you don’t hesitate to tug his head back and circle your waist along him. The width of his tongue swallowing your clit up so beautifully that it’s better than everything you imagined, and the fact he’s a grown man letting you ride his face, god he’s the best daddy ever.

Your head leans forward, teeth biting down on your lip as you gently move him against your circling hips.

“You’re so good to me daddy.”

Mr. Styles' eyes close slowly even more aroused from your words and the fact you taste like honey. His nails leave crescent moons into skin as he lets you drag yourself all over him. Just as hot as it is to be getting off using him, Harry was a slave to your tactics getting off to your sweet nectar and melodic voice dripping in sex.

Between the slurps of him eating your pussy to the moans expelling every time you swivel your hips harder against him, the scene is one of greed. Pure old fashioned greed of wanting nothing more than to ruin each other. It’s such a dangerous game but it’s so fun, luring him in and pulling at his heart strings all because it was entertaining to you.

“Like the way I ride you?” His tongue tenses against your movements, his head bobbing shallowly that leaves you to let out a breathless sigh.

And to think after calling you out hours ago when catching you with someone else Mr. Styles is here right now eating your pussy, and loving it.

He’s the daddy you need, the one that goes over and beyond to prove where your eyes should be focused on. He’s really the best, doing all this just to prove to you the place he wants in your life.

“Do you want me to ride your cock like this?” Lazy smirk tugging at the end of your lips with brow raising slightly, your motions losing momentum as you look down at him.

His mouth flexes against your folds, lips pressing open kisses back along your thighs. Wet juices dragging along your skin as your grip over him relaxes. Your thigh falls lucid by your leg, his touch drawing back up your skin as he finds his way up your body.

“Bunny,” Mr. Styles breathes against your clothed stomach. The sweet exchange that once coats his mouth disappears once dragging along the shirt. His lips trailing back up your neck and pressing onto your cheeks.

“I don’t know how much time we have left.”

You shake your head confidently, hands now drawing up his shoulders and stepping closer to him. You’re sure there’s nothing to worry about, almost positive you had enough time to have him the way you want.

“Please…” Lips pout slightly as you get him to peer into your eyes, your canine tooth catching on your lip before you’re smiling innocently at him. “I’m all nice and tight for you, don’t you want to feel daddy?”

Mr. Styles groans lowly, his face shifting amongst yours as he slots your lips against each other. The sweet taste of yourself flows along your tongue and you love every bit of it knowing that he adores it even more at the moment. The juices that you expel with the mix of your saliva, it’s a delicious brew that you're sure he wants forever from the way his fingers grip onto your hips.

He’s thought of this moment so many times yet can’t believe it’s happening, and the words you speak, he’s nearly coming from the sweet sound and the way you say his name.

Tongues dance along each other in a rushed frenzy not knowing how much longer it’ll be till this moment happens again. Your lips feel over the soft pricks of his stubble, hands drawing along his chest and moaning at the possessiveness over the kiss. His tongue flows against yours with such dominance you moan against him before pulling away with a bite at his lip.

“Just lay down for me, please?” You ask all sweet and doe eyed, nails dotting against the nylon of his jacket as you stare up at him.

And he’s unsure, with sight looking between you and the scenery around. A gentle sigh escapes as he nods his head lightly. “Okay.”

The grin that shines across your lips is bright and cheery, your eyes watching him closely as his knees begin to bend and you don’t hesitate to follow. Your hands fitting themselves on each side of his head, hips resting along his stomach with your face becoming parallel to each other.

“Been thinking about this since I met you.” Head leaning forward and dotting kisses against his chin, his hands by his side tug at the top of his track pants to pull them down.

“Looking at you in class… thinking about you fucking me on my desk.” Rush breath combing over his neck as you litter him with love. “Or yours.” Giggle trailing out so adorably that Mr. Styles moans at the sound. His hand draws away from the fabric of his joggers and lands a scolding slap amongst your ass.

“Dirty girl.” He mutters, fingers spreading you wide while rocking you over his erection.

“Only for you daddy.”

Leaning back on your knees, your hands slide towards your t-shirt and tug it over your head. Your breasts on display as you balance yourself amongst his waist, arm going behind your back and palming his cock.

“Want you inside me.” You say while blindly releasing him from his confines and twisting him slowly.

Mr. Styles rests on his elbows as he watches you raise up, the beautiful sight of his bunny bare and ready to take him, this is too good to be true.

His teeth poke out from his mouth and catch on his lips, stomach dipping with heavy breaths as he watches you lower yourself. Your puffy folds spread wide as his cock fills you up slowly, long whine tearing from your throat as he swallows you up inch by inch. The stretch of him has your body leaning forward with other hand curling around his jacket anxiously.

“Jesus.” Mr. Styles breathes with hand steadying your hips as he leans up, the tight feel of you around him makes his fingers curl deeper into your skin while you sink further onto his lap. “Bunny, fuck.” Your knees clench around his waist as you sigh pleasantly.

Plush walls nestle his throbbing cock gracing your sweet spot so heavenly that you’re shuddering against him. Your hips rubbing against his pelvis only increasing the fraction that has you crying out in satisfaction.

“Daddy, you fill me up so good.” Both hands gather up his arms and to the nape of his neck, your mouths lean forward breathing in each other's moans.

“You’re so tight bunny.” He follows your motions as your head knocks into his forehead.

You hum with your mouth going dry, eyes batting at him slowly as you find the strength to rise up on your knees and slowly grind yourself. Delicious spread of your pussy accepting every stride of him.

The combination of his spit and your juices leaves a squelching sob sound every time your hips meet. Walls flexing around every loving rhythmic stroke, whine high in the back of your throat as your fingers press deeply into his skin.

“So sweet, so dirty, just the way I like you.” Mr. Styles breathes over your lips. Your mouth catching his filthy words and swallowing them up loving the taste.

His grip over your hips guides your movements, eyes hanging low and watching every bounce of yourself riding him to the way your nose twitches. The thickness of him swells every crevice that succumbs to him filling you up. It’s leaving you numb with pleasure allowing him to draw you down in repetitive motions.

“I love the way you stretch around me, bunny” His lips curving the slope of your nose when you bow your head.

This moment was more than your dreams. The man that’s been fucking you in your every thought now helping you slide down his dick with such ease. Telling you just how he likes you, and how he loves the way you expand around him, he’s the best teacher. Your favorite one.

Lips collide in messy motions, slipping across each other with moans and groans trailing out. The hands of both of you sinking deeper and deeper as you both chase your highs.

The crinkles of leaves shift under your bodies, shadows of trees gracing across your bouncing breasts as Mr. Styles continues to guide your movements. Mouths catching along each other hurriedly with thighs twitching to curl deeper against him, the shock of stabs running down your neck causes your spine to bend at the feeling.

“Daddy… m’gonna…” Mouth parting away from him as your forehead drags along his cheek, breath coming out rushed as you feel your climax making itself known.

“Gonna come on daddy’s cock? You love my dick, don’t you?” His words deep in your ear making you lose all sense in your knees when going silk around him.

Your head twists deeper across his skin, eyes barely staying open as the squished grass amongst the floor bobs in your vision. Mr. Styles takes complete control over you as his hands keep your waist flexing around him.

Your pussy quivers and trembles from his words, adding fury to the spikes of arousal barreling down joyously. Your mouth hangs open, nails scratching into his skin as you continue feeling his cock tagging your cervix each time.

“Oh, fuck,” You moan completely distraught with stomach twitching. Your jerking hips take control of your weak motions as you find the strength to runt yourself into his lap.

Clit rubbing beautifully against the light bush along his pelvis chasing your high. You groan pleasantly at the head of his cock dragging across your sweet spot, your climax welcoming itself with your pussy contracting around him.

And instead of Mr. Styles guiding you back up his length he’s following your movements and thrusting into your hips. Piercing jabs adding to the sensation of pulsing shocks spreading through.

“Feel so good bunny,” He moans into your bobbing head, lips trailing down the hair matted to your shoulder. Sweet smell of your perfume gracing his nostrils that leaves him growling against your skin.

Fingers shake against his flexing shoulders, lips bitten and cracked letting air shallowly fill your lungs. Your pussy is bruised and sore from the girth of your teacher assaulting every inch that welcomes him.

“You’re so deep daddy,” Sweet voice running across his blushing skin. It’s damp with tiny strands connecting hair against his temples, his adam’s apple bobbing heavily with his fingers digging deeper into your skin; clear that your words affect him.

It’s your favorite thing to do with this game you play. How your words are so angelic yet dirty, leaving Mr. Styles, your boy toy and step-father vulnerable messes every time you're around. Cracked voices and growing erections always being your sight at just a simple bat of an eye. It’s so easy to have whoever you want be able to play.

It’s why you continue being alluring; dreamy moans carrying into his ears with hands sliding up into his hair, tousling every lock as you rotate your hips against his thrusts. The change in rhythm and pulsing beats of your pussy around Harry makes him hiss. Head dropping swiftly against your shoulder till you catch him quickly, nails tugging his head back as you peer into his eyes and ride his cock.

“Fuck me nice and wide,” Waist swiveling against his grip trying to strain your movements. Green eyes look up at your lips while his part in bliss accepting your heavenly pussy gracing him. “Stretch me so good daddy.”

Teasing breath fanning over his face as your breasts rub against the material of his jacket, your scent showers over him with your pussy wrapping around his cock deliciously, the sight clear of how he’s a slave to you and the way you make him feel.

“Don’t you want to fill me up?” Harry moans with eyes blinking slowly, his fingers beginning to loosen against your motions.

Your pussy coats his dick in creamy fluid adding to the pleasure of your walls dragging down him. Your fingers itch at his scalp, lips leaning towards his and nearly connecting as you smile.

“Don’t you want me to make you a daddy?”

Words having Mr. Styles whining high in his throat, hands twitching against your hips just as his seed spills into you. Fingers twitching and jaw tensing as he stares up in complete admiration. His waist stills against yours, eyes blinking slowly in a daze as you still grin at him, swiveling your hips and whispering sweet nothings.

“Such a thick load, sir.”

Hands relaxing around his curls while his fall from your waist, Harry’s sight completely enveloped by your words that he can’t help the lazy smile that tugs along his lips when you giggle at his expression.

“Mm… you’re really the best.” You hush, hips moving slowly as your chest begins to relax.

“It’s clear that’s up for debate.” Mr. Styles smirks, fingers feeling over the blades of grass below. But even if it’s a playful tease, his words taint your heart.

“It’s only you, I’m so serious sir,” You sigh, head shifting with bottom lip jutting out.

He gives you a pointed glare as if not believing you — not that he should, but it’s entertaining to make him jealous… teasing him just how you like. It’s why you find yourself rolling your eyes and raising up on your sore knees. The motion of you sitting off his lap and slipping him out turns his attention. His come drips out and flows down the expanse of his cock.

Humming delighted at the site, your hand trails out of his hair and between your legs. Fingers seeping into your pussy and catching the reminder of him onto your fingertips to carry into your mouth. Tongue welcoming the muted taste of your teacher and moaning playfully.

“Bunny.” He whines, eyes watching closely as you dip back between you both and collect the rest running down his cock and sucking them off your fingers again. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

The laugh that escapes you is adorable when you lean into his chest, hands moving to his shoulders and forcing him to fall back against the grass which he does gently. His own hands run down your spine as you shift around on his body.

“Wouldn’t that be amazing?” You sigh, fingers trailing up his neck and drawing along the definition of his jaw as he looks up at the sky.

The laugh that leaves the older man is light and cherished, one that has you smiling as you let his touch roam all over your skin.

His heart beats against your ear, lungs rising steadily with your bodies fitting together. The sun is still shining brightly with the breeze passing by every few moments. The quiet atmosphere of this area makes it feel private and safe.

“Sir?” Voice raised in question as your fingertip glides against the bridge of his nose just in time for him to hum in response.

“You never did tell me why you call me bunny?” Lips piercing together tightly as his touch begins to draw circles up your spine in swirls.

“Your eyes,” He whispers as he looks at the clouds passing across.

Your brows perk up at that. Your eyes? You knew they were quite alluring but not to that extent. Yet, that was the nickname that he gave you, the one feature that stood out the most to him. Not cherry, or baby like your other two flings.

“My eyes?” You reiterate. Head trailing off to the side as you pass your finger across his lips. The motion has him playfully biting on your nail till you’re retreating back to draw along his cheeks with a giggle.

“Yes… there so doe and soft, like a bunny. My bunny.” You hum acknowledging his words in admiration.

So that’s what he thought, that’s what stuck out the most. It was adorable and unique. So different compared to what you’re familiar with.

“When do you think we can do this again?” Your voice mutters against his chest. It makes Mr. Styles draw his hands away and lean up on his elbows.

His eyes go towards your shirt and grabs it, the material falls into your grip and you don’t hesitate to lean back and slip it over your head, sight still caught on the older man.

“I don’t know… it’s too risky,” His view looking over your naked thighs that hold his abdomen to the poor expression turning up over your face.

“Oh come on,” You huff, rolling your eyes and drawing away from his body. You twist off him with hands leaning towards your undergarments inches away.

“W —What are you getting all upset about? Even right now is pushing it,” His own actions cover himself back up as you scoff in response. “Don’t act like this.”

Another exaggerated sigh falls from your mouth before fixing your shorts around your hips, sight narrowing on the green streaks across your shirt before turning to look at the teacher now standing.

“I’ll act however I please,” You mumble, teeth clenching down on each other as Mr. Styles groans with annoyance, his hand stretching towards you but you’re quick enough to retreat back.

“So, even if it’s this spot for the exact same time?” You rephrase, heart knocking against your chest as you tangle your arms together.

“No Y/N, god… don’t you get it? Don’t you see my job on the line just to be here right now?”

“Fine.”

“Would you stop?”

“No.”

Your eyes watch every frustrated movement from the body parallel of you who bows his head in disbelief of the situation.

Of course he wants to see you again, of course he wants to wrap himself all around you but this puts too much stress over everything on his plate.

“Let’s just talk this over?”

“No, I’m good.”

Your teeth shining happily as you shift your head to the side and watch Mr. Styles inhale deeply. his body stepping closer still attempting to hold you.

“I’ll walk my way around to the front… you can go back from where you came from.” Simple nod of your head before your gracefully turning around beginning your departure. You’re trailing off so quickly he doesn’t even have the chance to catch you slipping through his fingers.

He just had you and now it’s already over.

Harry should’ve really expected this though. He should’ve anticipated your stubborn reaction to his words, he should’ve really thought over them because now you’re making his life a living hell.

You couldn’t wait a week, or even a couple days, you really couldn’t wait at all. Because the next afternoon you showed up to class five minutes late, walking through the door with a simple smirk on your lips and “sorry!” so sweet and delectable that he let you get away with it, of course he would, far as he knows he’s on punishment.

But, when you cut your eyes in a wicked glare did he realize who else was missing from the class, his own lacrosse player. Your heels echoed to your seat eerily to him amongst the shuffling of the other students, and when you sat in your chair with lips now a teasing grin did Luca soft knock sound on the door before he stepped in.

His collar was obnoxiously up high, clear what was litter amongst his skin. The sight had Harry clenching his jaw unbearably tight, his eyes going to you who conceitedly winked at him. It didn’t help that the other students began to snicker, adding to the fury of Harry turning his fingers in on themselves while continuing the class.

That was only the beginning though; now when passing in the halls you completely ignored him, acting as if he wasn’t there. When seeing you in the pillars of the school with Luca by your side, you made sure to wink at him, or sometimes Harry will see him drop you off to class, catching sight on his hands grabbing the skin he doesn’t deserve.

You continue showing up late; sometimes your boyfriend trailing behind, sometimes not. You stop raising your hand and involving yourself in class discussions and begin to pay attention to the birds outside or doodling in your book. Notes start being exchanged even more between you and the blonde classmate, one time you even left one on your desk that Harry took up.

Can I eat you out tonight?

Luca

His messy writing covered the paper that Harry closed his fist around. His feet stalked over to the garbage and threw it into the trash.

You’re fucking with him so badly, so terribly, why are treating him like this?

He doesn’t feel any better that he tried to be reasonable, trying to get you to understand that your endeavors couldn’t be consistent, it would be too much for the both of you.

But, it’s tempting… so tempting to want to pull you in after class and tell you that he’s done with your antics and to take him back. Go back to being his sweet bunny with doe eyes and bitten lips, go back to writing his nickname across the page of your test and showing him your sweet plump cheeks.

It’s already bad enough he’s coming into his hand every night just thinking about your pussy around him again. Your sweet voice telling him your dirty thoughts, the ones that have been on your mind since meeting. He wants more of you, he needs more honestly, and the way you’re acting isn’t helping him at all.

He can deal with you being with Luca because Harry knows deep down he doesn’t satisfy you the way you like. He’s certain you don’t fancy him much and is just using him to toy with his feelings, but he’ll accept that.

It’s Friday night and it’s the annual parent teacher meeting. Students in their pressed and polished uniforms standing alongside their parents as they walk across campus displaying to them their life while here.

Harry hasn’t seen you yet and he’s thankful, he’s suppose to meet your mother and he’s trying to keep his nerves at bay. His fingers are tapping timidly inside his pocket as he smiles at Gabriel's mother who boasts about the upcoming lacrosse tournament.

His eyes watch the way her skin folds over in wrinkles when she smiles happily, while her son looks annoyed and Harry can’t help the breathless laugh that leaves him when noticing.

“The boys have been putting in great work this year, I’m sure we’ll be getting the trophy.” Harry beams while Gabriel rolls his eyes at his teacher.

“It’s all he talks about when I call him… but, let’s me not keep you, we still have to see Mrs. Randall.” Fading auburn hair shifting with each nod of her head as she leaves the community hall looking for the science teacher.

It’s when the loving mother exits the door does he see his bunny slip in. Manicure and dazzling accessories shining over your shoulder as your mother walks into the room, and it isn’t the sight of her that has Harry shocked, no, it’s the man that steps through right after with tattoos littered in the revealing parts of his suit. All over his hands and up his neck, if Harry were to assume, he would be around his age, with thick beard growing in and slight tiredness swelling around his eyes.

He can tell from his appearance you don’t look quite similar, you resemble your mother more than anything but he doesn’t stare too long. Not with the way you begin to walk towards him with both parents on either side.

The chatter in the room is filled with other guardians and teachers making small talk either about the curriculum or the school's pretentious history, and somehow in all that noise it doesn’t seem to drown out the footsteps of bodies making their way over to him.

“Mr. Styles?” Thin lips of your mother sing in a cheerful tune as she sways from side to side.

He remembers you telling him about your mother. How she sent you to school once given the chance, yet she’s all bubbly and happy as if you have a place in her life, as if all the words you spoke were nothing but pure lies.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me!” Harry smiles softly, hand reaching out and she takes it genuinely. Soft touch enveloping him in a strong shake as he bows his head.

“You must be Y/N mother,” He continues, their hands parting as he looks down at you. For once your sight is looking up at him, your attention actually focus on him, and it makes Harry swallow heavily.

“She has told me so much about you, all good things! Saying how you’ve made her enjoy history even, she was never quite fond of it in her past schoolings but, you’ve made it her favorite!”

His brows raise up at that, mouth parting slightly in shock before grinning happily looking between you and your mother. So, you’ve been telling her about him? And saying his teachings are your favorite subject. You’re confusing him with your hot and cold games, but it’s even worse that he enjoys being in the middle of it.

“I never knew she said that? I’m so happy to hear,” Harry smiles before his hand is turning towards the man to the left of you. “And you must be Mr—”

“—Malik.”

His words cut off the teacher to correct him but doesn’t stop them from their hands meeting, strong grip over each other as his brown eyes look over him longingly, examining every inch of him.

“My apologies…” Harry sighs before turning to your mother to divert his gaze from your step-father. “But yes, she’s doing amazing in class. I'm glad it’s become her favorite.”

And he sees the way your face begins to heat up, how your eyes watched every motion of him shaking your father’s hand as if stunned this moment is happening. Harry wants to laugh, he wants to chuckle in your face because of course he’s caught you again, lying about having a father figure, this is cold bunny.

“Oh! Mom, they have that sparkling juice I was talking about, the one you should use for the dinner?” Your voice enters the conversation nervously as you look towards her. Hand going to her elbow as you direct her to the assortment of drinks and snacks on the table under the bulletin board.

“Just one second!” Your mother smiles at Harry before letting you lead her away.

Before Harry can even admire the sight of you all flustered and caught up from your parents meeting the teacher you’ve been tormenting for months, the laugh next to him has his direction turning towards the heavily tattoo man.

“Isn’t she funny?” Mr. Malik asks, lips tugged to the side as he shuffles on his feet. Harry can’t help but take one of his hands out of its confines and cough into it.

“Yes, she has quite the humor,” He agrees, fingers running over his hips smoothly as he shifts his posture.

Your step-father is looking up at him with such a questioning glare that Harry can feel his ears begin to beat with warmth, his eyes dying to break the fight over whatever is crossing his mind.

You always have tricks up your sleeves, always have another way to shine your dazzling teeth to get away with something else, and it’s another one of those moments. Body turned away from your daddy and father ignoring the fact they’re in the same room.

Aren’t you a nervous little thing when all caught up? It’s quite adorable.

“Are you playing?”

The question draws Harry’s eyebrows together, lips parting and sight concentrated heavier on the man next to him.

“I’m sorry?”

“With cherry? Are you playing with her?”

Cherry? His bunny is cherry to him. Oh? So this is why you’re so nervous and looking more distraught than when he caught you with that note.

You’re not nervous at the fact Harry knows you lied about your parents, but the fact you already had a father figure in your life, one that plays with you already and does everything that he wants when given the chance. That’s why you ran away.

“Oh? I —I didn’t… I haven’t…” Harry’s voice trails off as his sight goes towards you pouring another glass of the grape juice for your mother to try.

“So, it’s true then?” His eyes trail back to the older man who holds a smug grin, and when his hand pats down on his shoulder roughly, it makes Harry let out an uncomfortable laugh.

“I must say… she does get what she wants.” Mr. Malik sight combs over the teacher before releasing his hold.

It has Harry relaxing and throat clear as his nose crinkles up. His bunny with someone else? He could get over Luca, he really could care less… but the man in front of him —the one you lied about so innocently— is standing before him not even surprised by the teachers place in your life, you’ve broken his heart bunny.

“Is she always like this?” Harry finds himself asking without thought, his brows relaxing as he tries to collect all the memories of everything you said from the first encounter.

“If you’re who she likes, yeah I guess… I’m not sure how it works in her head, she got me a few years ago…” Mr. Malik admits before breaking their gaze and looking over at you, and Harry can’t stop himself from doing it also. “You know, it really did catch me off guard when I found out about what she did first semester.”

Harry’s fingers curl in on themselves from hearing the truth. So it was all true, you did try to seduce a teacher, that’s why you’re at this school. That’s why you play this game with him, because you like this attention… you like having your way with the people you desire, you’re so dirty bunny.

“I didn’t know that,” He says, with hands crossing over his chest as he now leans against the brick wall. The relevance of the news has Mr. Malik turning, his eyebrows furrowed with a cheesy grin.

“Really?” He says with a shake of his head, body relaxing next to the teacher.

“I also didn’t know about you… I mean, being her father and all.”

“Step.” He emphasizes giving a pointed look, and Harry nods his head in acknowledgement.

“Yes, step-father.” He confirms before whistling weakly.

Your lies are finally spread out for the both of them to see. It really took today for him to see past everything and get the real information about you that he really wanted, the one he’s been seeking from the beginning.

His mind is a whirlwind of emotions and memories of what you both shared in such little time. “It’s only you, I’m serious sir.” Those were your words, said with such purity he believed you. But now it’s so clear how you like to be shared, how you like to be passed around for everyone.

Harry thought all this time that what you really needed was mentorship, soon that turned into some well deserved attention, but now, he thinks he sees your true intentions, the real reason why your eyes glimmer with happiness every time.

“I purpose we make some changes to her game,” Mr. Malik remarks, his white teeth showing as his lips stretch, and Harry can’t help but nod in agreement.

“I think we should make some new rules.”

[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame (2) - Those Eyes

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Next Part

Word count: 6.1k

-I close my eyes and all I see is you and the small things you do-

Jenna couldn’t remember the last time she’s gotten this excited. Soon she’d turn eighteen, she was about to start filming Scream, meet several legends in person, work with people that already seemed like they were absolutely amazing, and, well, work with you. She walked into the hotel late at night, past ten o’clock, meaning she missed dinner, but she was excited nonetheless, barely feeling the hunger after hours of traveling.

“Hi, I’m sorry I’m checking in this late,” she gave her ID to the receptionist.

“Don’t worry about it, thank you for choosing our hotel,” the receptionist smiled politely, the entire cast basically booking the hotel was going to be profitable for it.

“Say, could you tell me where some of the others are? Which rooms I mean?” Jenna asked with a bit of a shy smile on her face.

He raised an eyebrow, and she knew she could just send a message, so yeah, in hindsight it probably didn’t make her seem like the smartest person around. “Sure,” he checked the papers and pulled out a map of the floor she was on. “You’re between Melissa and Mikey, and Jack and Dylan are also on your side of the floor. Mason, Y/N, Jasmin and Sonia are on the other side of the floor, Neve, Courtney and David are on the floor above you,” he told her and pointed at each room as he said the names. Room 23, she smiled but quickly reigned it in. The two of you have been texting on and off these past few weeks, and Jenna definitely felt the connection between you. It’s been so long since she made a friend close to her own age, and it really felt like the two of you were heading in that direction.

“Thank you,” she said and took key to her room, thankful that her stuff arrived before she did, so it was already waiting for her in her room. She went up the stairs to her room but just as she was about to unlock it she looked down the hall and changed her mind, heading right for your room first.

The number 23 on the door seemed almost intimidating for a moment, after all, she didn’t even send you a message to ask if you wanted to hang out. Still, she remembered all the texts you exchanged, the time you spent hanging out, eating lunch and dinner at the same place and then walking through the park and sitting on a bench, watching the sky. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing at all, so, she knocked and took one step back, waiting for you to open the doors.

And you did, you opened the doors dressed in sweatpants and light gray T-shirt. “Hey,” she smiled, stepping closer to you. “Sorry for dropping by unannounced,” she apologized and readily accepted it when you just pulled her in for a hug. It felt warm, welcoming, and Jenna felt herself sinking into that feeling.

“I’m glad you did,” you whispered as you pulled back and smiled brightly at her. There was nothing in your body language, not a single hint that you were annoyed, or that she interrupted you. She could only see genuine happiness to see her in your eyes, in the way your touch lingered, and how openly you moved to invite her in. “Come on, I’m sure you’re hungry,” your words took her by surprise.

A bit of her should have felt guilty, because in a way it made it sound like she just came to eat, but the promise of a meal instead of going to bed hungry made any guilt she could have felt disappear for the moment. “Sure, but how did you know?” she asked as you led her into your room and Jenna found herself looking around, especially since she didn’t get to see her own room. The room was simple, offering basic furniture, and each came with its own bathroom, it looked comfortable, and she noticed the final script lying on the table.

“Just a guess. I sent you a message a while ago to see if you were hungry,” you said and turned the stove on. Jenna felt heat rushing to her cheeks, she once again neglected her phone. She should probably send a message to her family. For now, she looked at you moving around the hotel room. From the looks of it the rooms came with small kitchen, enough for someone to make a simple meal, or heat up the leftovers, just so they wouldn’t have to go to the kitchen. Sometimes they could make meals themselves and sometime the hotel staff would take care of it, that was the deal from what Jenna heard. She was brought out of her thoughts by the smell that made her mouth water as you placed a small pot filled with rice pilaf with green peas and corn, and you must have added something else to it because it smelled incredible.

“Oh, I’m definitely hungry,” she said, and as if on cue her stomach confirmed her hunger and the two of you laughed. “Join me?” she asked as you heat up the pilaf, she grew up in a large family, often worked with a lot of people that usually had meals together at a designated large area, and she found that she hated eating alone, no matter how often it happened between projects.

“I guess I could,” you agreed, much to Jenna’s relief. “Could you set the table? There’s a few plates and utensils in the cupboard to my left,” you told her and it was just another reason Jenna felt comfortable around you. When she was with you it didn’t matter that she was an actress, you didn’t treat her like that automatically made her free to just sit and wait for you to serve a meal for her.

“Mhm,” she hummed and found the things you’d need for your rather late dinner. “Do you want me to take them to the table or wait until you fill the plates first?” she asked as you went to cut a tomato for a quick salad.

You paused for a moment. “Take them to the table,” you eventually decided and Jenna did it.

She turned toward you, catching herself watching your back as you spread a bit of vegan cheese over the tomato and seasoned it with a bit of salt. She noticed your movement, easy, relaxed, yet precise. That seemed to be your normal, just chill and easygoing, calming in a way, and she found it hard to imagine you being tense, or anxious. At least that’s how you looked to her from this close. You’ve shown her brief glimpses of nervousness, but it was just the regular amount, nothing out of the ordinary, and she found herself admiring that attitude.

Of course, she was yet to get to truly know you, but those were her first impressions.

“There,” you said as you finished preparing the salad and washed your hands on the sink before carrying the pot and the plate filled with the salad to the table where Jenna was waiting for you.

She watched you as you filled up the plates, your eyes met for a moment and you grinned, as if promising her she’d like the food. She knew she would, taste aside, though she had no doubt about that either, you took time to either get or make this for her, and she’d love it for that alone. She waited until you sat down, though with how hungry she was and how good the food smelled she found it really hard to resist. Finally, once you sat down she took a spoonful of the pilaf and hummed at how good it was. “Oh, this is amazing,” she praised and quickly turned to you. “Did you make this?” she could already guess the answer, but she still asked, almost astonished by how good it tasted.

“Yeah,” and that was all you really needed to tell her as you ate dinner at late hours of the night, on the first night of your stay at the hotel where you’d be filming Scream.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” Jenna told you once you emptied your plates, that fondness for you that’s been growing since meeting up in Los Angeles making her feel warm despite the slight chill of the late September night.

About an hour after she came into your hotel room her eyes widened and she quickly grabbed her phone. “Shit, mom will kill me,” she quickly sent a message to her mom, not wanting to interrupt her since she was at work at the moment.

She did it again, she lost track of everything while with you.

~X~

The birthday surprise sounded like a great idea, after all, you just had to hide it from Jenna for a couple of days. Nothing too bad, right? You underestimated just how difficult that was going to be. Especially since she seemed to like your company, and normally you’d be thrilled by that, but you were trying to surprise her for her birthday!

You also had to handle figuring out what she liked and didn’t like, or if there were any food allergies to worry about, or decision she may have made herself. And asking her about her preferences in sweets might be a bit too obvious. So, you did your best with what you had. Jenna mentioned she became a vegan a while ago in passing, so you knew that, and from what David told Melissa, Jenna wasn’t allergic to anything. So, there you were, in the hotel kitchen seeing what ingredients you had available and which one you were missing as you mentally went through different cakes you thought Jenna might like.

Making the cake would also be fairly easy. The kitchen was kinda bland, the regular dark gray kitchen, but it was spacious, and you would be able to easily get used to it. Most importantly, it looked like hiding the cakes would be easy. That was basically the deal, make two cakes so everyone can get a slice, Mikey and Melissa would handle some small appetizers, and that would be it. Get some non-alcoholic drinks, sing a song, and make sure not to overwhelm the girl, because you imagined that having a bunch of, basically, strangers, organize a huge surprise birthday party might be a bit overwhelming for anyone. And Jenna was already a bit shy and definitely introverted, so there was that too. You considered preparing a dinner, but between too many people being there and simply being unable to disappear for the whole day you gave up on that idea.

So, you were leaning on the counter, in the middle of flipping through the pages of your recipe notebook because you liked having hand-written notebook with recipes you’ve made and could comfortably claim were good. Remembering them was all well and good, but double checking was always a good choice. And then the kitchen doors opened.

“Oh, hi,” you heard Jenna’s voice and jumped, notebook flying up into the air as you tried to catch it. Only to just barely graze it with the tips of your fingers and have it land in front of Jenna’s feet. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that,” she quickly apologized when she got over the initial surprise, but you could see the amused smile on her face. You smiled back, seeing right through her, she was a bit proud of making you lose your composure, and well, you could respect that.

Well, it wasn’t that you were easily scared, you just did not expect her of all people. And you kinda panicked when the one you were meant to make a birthday cake for caught you in the kitchen! Even if you were yet to do anything. Especially since you kind of doubted you could lie to her, that’s how quickly she broke through any defense you may have had. “Right, that was,” you paused, leaning down to pick up your notebook. “Embarrassing,” you chuckled as you leaned back on the counter.

Jenna shrugged with a small smile on her face. “Please, do I need to remind you how many times I embarrassed myself, I think you’ll survive,” you could tell she was curious about the notebook. It was old, worn out, which was normal since it was half a decade old, a birthday gift from Barbara, s there was sentimental value to it as well.

“Oh, right, I forgot you were way worse,” you shrugged, the grin on your face giving away that you were joking.

Jenna frowned, and for a moment your heart skipped a beat. “Mhm, I’m sure I was,” she turned away from you and began looking for something in the kitchen.

You immediately backtracked. “Wait, please, I didn’t mean-“ but before you could finish you caught an amused look in her eyes, you still haven’t gotten to know her well enough to know for sure if she was joking, and she was still using that. It didn’t change the fact that you were still caught off guard by how expressive her eyes were. “Oh, you are sneaky,” you grinned.

“I’m looking for some fruit. You want some?” she asked you.

“I guess I could go for some fruit. There’s some canned pineapple in the storage, apples and bananas over there on that counter and some grapes and plums in the fridge,” you told her and she went over to the fridge.

“Grapes sound good,” she took a couple of smaller clusters and you pulled two bowls out. They were already washed so she just placed two clusters in each bowl. “Wanna eat them together?” she suggested, and you nodded with a grin, you quite enjoyed eating dinner with her last night, so you easily accepted sharing the fruit. So, you ended up following her through the halls into the dining hall, it wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either and you both greeted the few people you walked by.

You sat down next to Jenna and popped a grape into your mouth. “Did you get in trouble with your mom last night?” you asked and she shook her head.

“She understands, and I may have thrown you under the bus and said you held me up,” she revealed, clearly completely serious and you just froze with a grape in hand.

“Preposterous,” you huffed, and she raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe it is fair, but-“ yet before you could finish your sentence Jenna stole the grape in your hand and ate it. “Now that’s just uncalled for,” you blinked, taken aback by her boldness and Jenna just, she just laughed, leaning on your shoulder for support.

“You were saying?” she reminded you, but you just shrugged.

“Guess you’ll never know, thief,” you teased her just as your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you saw you were meant to go and prepare for the fight scene. Now, you were serious about your job, but a minute or two wouldn’t hurt, especially when you felt this at ease around Jenna, and you dared to say she felt the same way.

You moved on to the second cluster and your eyes widened a bit when you realized just how sweet it was. “Damn, these are really good!” without really thinking you split the cluster and dropped half of it in Jenna’s bowl.

“Wait, Y/N,” Jenna began protesting, even if she just stole a grape out of your hand, but you plucked the few grapes remaining on your cluster and got up to dispose of the trash.

You just winked at her. “Sorry, ma’am, duty calls,” you mock-saluted. “No, seriously, they need to go over the fight scene with me,” you made sure to explain and left the slightly embarrassed girl.

“Good luck!” Jenna exclaimed and you pumped your fist up in the air.

~X~

Two days later you were in the gym doing pull-ups when Melissa jogged in and looked around after she spotted you. “Good, you’re here, is everything set for Sunday?” she asked, not beating around the bushes in case Jenna somehow came in.

“Yeah, just need to actually make the cakes,” it wasn’t the first time Melissa came in to talk about the surprise while you were working out, and when she told you it was okay to just keep training you found no reason to go against that. You had about fifteen minutes left anyway. You dropped down after finishing the set and took a few deep breaths, next one would be tough.

“Great, and you’re sure she doesn’t suspect anything?” she asked, making you nod.

“Not one thing. So far so good, we’ve all been busy, especially her since she has the first half of the opening scene to film, so she hasn’t been paying attention to things that may have given the surprise away,” and there were few things. She bumped into Mikey and Jasmin after they did the shopping for the appetizers. She ended up walking into the kitchen while you were talking to the hotel staff about what you’d need to borrow, and even Melissa had a close call or two from what you heard from others.

Melissa nodded at that, satisfied with the answer. “I think having a birthday away from your closest loved ones, especially one as significant as the eighteenth birthday would make someone feel lonely, and she’s a lovely girl. I’d like her to feel appreciated,” Melissa confessed. You could see she almost immediately got attached to Jenna, and you were willing to bet she felt even a bit protective, so slipping into the role of the protective older sister definitely wouldn’t be difficult for Melissa.

Not that you could say anything, you’ve known Jenna for less than a month, chemistry test not included, and you couldn’t deny that you felt the say way Melissa did. You wanted Jenna to be happy and if you could do something to make her birthday feel better, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

“We’ll do everything we can to make her feel that way,” you confirmed, jumping up and grabbing onto the bar with only your right hand. You gritted your teeth, focused and did one-armed pull-up, ignoring the gasp Melissa let out. Yeah, you figured one-armed pull-ups were a bit impressive.

~X~

The first few days of filming, at least for you, were mostly used for preparations, going over the fight choreography and practicing the fights, so you barely filmed any scenes, though you and Jenna got through the scene you did for chemistry read. You were both definitely comfortable with one another, but you both also knew every other scene between you two from now on would rely on touch even more.

And surprisingly you were perfectly fine with it. And it wasn’t just that you were professionals doing your jobs, you really were comfortable with Jenna’s touch.

It wasn’t the touch that you were worried about, in fact the only scene you were truly worried about, as far as your own acting went, was the climax of the hospital scene. When your and Jenna’s characters are held by Ghostfaces, and your character gets shot while Tara has an asthma attack. Honestly, you were kind of dreading that scene. Not only would it be emotionally draining, but you felt like you were still not back to the performance level from Logan, having only been acting for a few days now, and you just weren’t sure of yourself. You knew, you understood that for the scene to be done well you and Jenna would have to give it your all, and make it not the sum of those two parts, but something bigger, better than that. At least the scene would be filmed over the span of three days so you hoped you could get your act together by then.

Right now, you and Jenna were settling down on the bed, with Keith, one of the stuntmen for Ghostface getting ready and putting the mask on.

“Are you comfortable?” you asked as Jenna lay down with her head on your chest. You could see the hint of a blush on her cheeks as she swallowed the lump in her throat and you hesitated to pt your arm around her like you were supposed to.

“I am, don’t worry,” she assured you, and she was honest, she really was, but deep down you could sense she needed reassurance. Yet you weren’t sure how to give it to her. “You? I can move a bit more to the side if you want?” she suggested, but you shook your head.

“I’m okay,” you looked down at your arm and she nodded, giving you the permission to hold her. It wasn’t like the couple of hugs you had, this was more intimate, would last longer, would probably be repeated a few times. While Jenna seemed to enjoy the hugs, you understood why she was nervous. It wasn’t even you in particular, but just being this close with someone, especially when it was the first scene like this for the two of you.

Matt and Tyler finishing giving instructions to everyone, the two of you closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. Keith walked into the room, and you heard him stopping at the bottom of the bed. He paused, as he was meant to do. Since Amber was supposed to watch Tara and C/N for a bit and then try to kill your character.

Keith then moved, but bumped his foot on the bed and winced. “I’m okay,” he assured, and you opened you eyes, you’d have to start over anyway.

“I always feel like somebody's watching me! Who's playing tricks on me?” you sang, so abruptly Jenna began giggling and you laughed, soon enough the crew around you lost composure.

“I’m so sorry,” Jenna apologized as she struggled to control her giggles.

“Completely my fault,” you grinned, and you felt her relaxing significantly more, relaxing into your touch. You didn’t say anything, pretending not to notice the shift in her posture, as she was no longer trying to hold most of her weight on her side but properly leaned on you. Her eyes shone brightly as she finally stopped giggling and looked at you with a grin on her face.

There it was, the look you were hoping to see. The same way she looked at you when you weren’t filming.

“Okay, now that everyone is calm again, take two!” Matt instructed and the two of you and Keith got back into your positions.

Keith walked to your side of the bed, and you felt robes brushing against you, which was your cue. You moved quickly, just barely syncing with his movement and catching his wrist. You stayed like that for a few moments, letting your character process everything as Keith pretended, he was trying to push the knife into your chest to no avail.

Jenna opened her eyes and screamed, and it was impressive to say the least. And she quickly placed her hand between your chest and the tip of your knife. But more than that, the way she scream, the way she moved, you, even if only for a bit, felt the anger your character would be feeling in these circumstances.

So, you and Keith went through the practiced action scene of the day, first with the knee to his shoulder, and elbow to the guts, of course, just making it look like you were hitting him. You gently moved Jenna aside. “I’ll be right back,” and your eyes widened. That wasn’t meant to be the line!

“Cut!” Tyler exclaimed and you just sat up.

“Sorry about that,” you apologized to Jenna and Keith, and also the rest of the crew, but mostly to the two of them.

Jenna, however, seemed to have another idea. “Wait, isn’t that one of the rules? Don’t say ‘I’ll be back’?” she asked, and you could swear you saw lightbulbs lighting up above Matt and Tyler’s heads.

“You’re right! We’re keeping that in, get back into positions!”

And so, you did, getting it all just right in the next take.

~X~

Finally, Sunday, and with that Jenna’s eighteenth birthday came, and you would soon stop having to hide the truth from the younger actress. You figured she’d spend the morning on the call with her family, so she’d likely just grab a snack from the kitchen instead of eating breakfast with you like she did these past few days. Well, it wasn’t only with you, someone else was usually there as well, but she was always next or very close to you.

You were somewhat glad she would skip the breakfast with you, because keeping your eyes open seemed like an impossible task at the moment, and you kept almost dozing off at the table with your sandwich lying on the table, unwrapped and barely touched. Seeing how many times you jerked awake it really was good that Jenna wouldn’t see you in this state.

Though, maybe you underestimated how used Jenna got to eating with you.

“Hi!” she dropped onto the seat next to you with a light breakfast, just some cereal and a French toast, and even as sleepy as you were you could tell she was in a really good mood.

“Morning, Jen,” you, however yawned, seeing as you spent most of the last night making the cakes and didn’t really get any sleep. You’d have to take a nap later, but more importantly you were surprised Jenna was here instead of sleeping in or something. It was seven in the morning! It was her birthday! Did that mean nothing to her?

“Long night?” she asked, both concerned and amused by the state you were , and if you weren’t so sleep deprived maybe you would have noticed that she was holding back on telling you something.

“Yeah,” you felt like it would be easier to bench a thousand pounds than it was to keep your head from dropping onto the table. If it was any other week you’d be fine, but between making the cakes, long workouts, action-heavy scenes, as well as practicing for them, and pure mental exhaustion brought on by your high expectations of yourself you were just about ready to drop.

And Jenna noticed that. She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Hey, hey look at me,” she whispered gently. “Go back to bed, okay? Do it for me?” well now, who were you to refuse such a sweet and genuine request.

“You’re the boss,” you began packing your sandwich, but Jenna placed her hand over your own, taking the task over. “Sorry,” you apologized but she just smiled at you, and you could see she didn’t mind doing it.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your bed,” she place your sandwich on her tray, picked it up and took your hand, slowly guiding you back to your room.

“Jen,” you nearly wished her happy birthday, it was on the tip of your tongue, but you weren’t about to ruin the surprise. “Thanks,” instead you just thanked her, hoping that one word would be enough to show that you really, genuinely appreciated her doing this for you as you unlocked your doors and stumbled to the bed, not even bothering to lay down properly.

You still felt a blanket covering you and a soft hand lifting your head up just enough to put a pillow underneath it.

~X~

The entire cast let the day go on as usual, just chilling out together and getting to know each other. Not once did you hear anyone wish happy birthday to Jenna, so you figured she didn’t tell anyone and was just going along with the day as if it was any other. Though, she did spend some time in her room, on a call with her family. You were glad it happened to be Sunday, she deserved to rest on her birthday.

By the time the dinner was approaching you were making sure everything was set, the appetizers, the birthday cakes, you went with an icy wind cake, using layers of kiwi, banana, strawberry and blueberries on the very top. It was a cake your neighbor taught you how to make while you were still a teen, and considering you found out that Jenna did like most fruits you figured this was a good choice.

“Is everything ready?” Melissa asked as her, Mason and Jasmin came in, ready to help you bring everything out.

“Yeah, just lighting the candles,” you said, lighting the candles on both of the round cakes.

“You know, I think she’ll love this,” Mason commented as he and Jasmin took the plates with appetizers, while you and Melissa took one cake each.

“I sure hope so, it was a pain in the ass to hide this from her,” Jasmin laughed and nudged you with her elbow. “Especially for you.”

“Don’t remind me,” you chuckled, thinking back to the many times Jenna nearly stumbled into the surprise you all were preparing for her.

Jasmin opened the doors for the four of you while Mikey kept Jenna distracted and with her back turned to the door you would come through. And then, when she saw the four of you, she grinned. “And, three, two, one!” she exclaimed as everyone else from the cast began clapping and all of you began singing ‘Happy birthday’ to Jenna.

Poor girl looked around wide-eyed, completely taken aback with a dark blush covering her cheeks. “Oh my god!” she hid her face in her hands, something you noticed she did whenever she felt shy and embarrassed.

“Someone remembered your birthday,” Melissa motioned toward David “And we had to celebrate it,” she set the cake down on the table and patted Jenna on the shoulder to comfort her.

“Thank you!” Jenna quickly hugged her and got up, going to Jasmin and Mason and hugging them as well, as you were still busy placing the cake next to the one Melissa left on the table. The moment your hands were free from the cake she quickly hugged you, keeping her hold on you firm and tight as she nuzzled against your shoulder. “Thank you, thank you so much,” she whispered before going on to hug each and every person in the room.

You took a camera from Mikey and gestured toward it as Jenna got ready to blow the candles. “Please,” she gave you the permission and you snapped a few photos as she blew the candles out and then handed the camera back to Mikey so she could handle taking the photos. You and Melissa had another task, to cut the cakes since Jenna was still a bit too shocked by all of this.

“Here, birthday girl,” you grinned as you gave her the first piece and she playfully rolled her eyes at the name before taking the plate.

“This looks amazing, where did you even get it?” she asked as she waited for everyone else to get a piece. And then the realization hit her when she saw your grin. “No way!”

“Apparently someone was cast too perfectly for her role,” Mikey teased you a bit as you handed her the piece. “Y/N made them,” she confirmed what Jenna already figured out Jenna just looked at you, her eyes looking into your soul and heart as you shrugged.

“I never said my cooking is limited to basics,” you grinned handing out the last few pieces to whoever didn’t have their piece. There was maybe a sixth of the second cake left by the time you were done. As you set the knife down you felt a hand on your wrist and you turned around, and before you could register what was going on Jenna pulled you in for another hug. “Thank you, you shouldn’t have, but thank you,” she whispered as you hugged her back.

“Don’t mention it,” you told her softly. The two of you went and sat down and began eating the cake.

Jenna hummed at the taste, and you couldn’t hold back a proud grin on your face. “This is amazing! You have to give me a recipe,” she wasn’t asking for it, she damn near demanded it.

“Sure, but I have to try it when you make it,” you said, pulling out your phone and typing the recipe from memory.

Jenna shook her head. “I can’t make this, but my mom can,” she explained, causing you to nod.

“There, sent it,” you told her after a few minutes and then you just enjoyed the celebration, which quickly turned into a chaotic fun as Mason and Jack tried to get the projector to work so you could all watch a movie.

“When is your birthday?” Jenna asked, watching fondly as the chaos ensued in the room.

“Don’t know,” you smirked teasingly.

“Come on, tell me,” she persisted, even going as far as to lean closer to you to try and get you to talk.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know. Mom was Chinese zodiac enthusiast, dad hated everything, so all I know is I’m born in the year of the metal dragon. Yes, metal dragon was very important to her, so much so that she waited nine years to have me,” you said it so confidently, so casually, that you wouldn’t blame someone if they took you seriously.

“Y/N,” Jenna warned you teasingly.

“Enjoy the day, I’ll tell you tomorrow. I was born in the year of the dragon though, that isn’t a lie,” you assured her, and though she pouted, she sighed and accepted that trying to get that information out of you right now was more than likely futile.

“Thanks again, for making the cakes for me,” she said, leaning slightly on your shoulder as the movie finally started.

“Anytime, Jen,” you whispered.

“Wait, so that’s why you were sleepy this morning!” she suddenly realized, and you just laughed, pulling her in for a one-armed hug as she pouted at you.

“Thanks for taking care of me, by the way,” you told her, hoping she would know this was fine, that you were more than happy to do this, and that given the chance you’d do it again.

~X~

When you came back to your room a few hours later it was after everyone was done with the celebration. It probably could have went on for a bit longer, but you all had to go back to filming in the morning so no more partying for any of you, that was for sure.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you raised an eyebrow, not a lot of people called you. You took it from your pocket and grinned, answering immediately.

“Well, hello there!” you fell back on the bed, your day just got even better, if that was possible.

“Hey kid, got anything you’d like to share?” you could hear the teasing, as well as pride in Hugh’s voice. He already knew, you could tell that much, but he wanted to hear it from you as well.

“Back to filming, but you already knew that,” you wondered if you could live up to it, to his expectations. What were his expectations anyway?

“Yes, Tom told me,” you actually met Tom through Hugh, so of course Tom would tell him. “Just take it easy, okay? I know you’ve got a lot on your mind right now, all the pressure you might be feeling, just know that what matters the most is that you are happy while doing this job,” that was the same logic he had back when he advised you while you were filming Logan. Love your job, love portraying your characters and if possible, love your characters as well. Love them enough to come back and play them again if needed. That, aside from teaching you to take your time with things, was the most valuable lesson Hugh taught you about acting.

“I’ll try, I just, I feel like I need to follow Logan up with something incredible,” you admitted, and you both knew what you meant. It wasn’t about awards, or about the audience reception, it was about the experience making it, because Logan was truly something special for you as a child.

“You will, I’m sure you’re getting to know people that will help you turn it into something like that,” he assured you and you smiled, given how the past couple of days went you actually believed him.

Masterlist / First Part / Next Part

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Stolen Moments: A Fairy Tale

A spur-of-the-moment story for @inklings-challenge

The princess steps into the center of a whirling masquerade. She is resplendent in green as the Queen of May. A man slips through the crowd and stands before her, dressed all in brown as the Autumn King. He bows with a flourish, silently asking for a dance.

She stands like stone. “You should not be here,” she says.

“Can I not dance with my wife?”

He reaches for her hand. She pulls it away. “I have no husband.”

“In this place, no. Yet I remember otherwise,” he says. “And so do you.”

She turns on her heel and strides away. He follows, quick as ever. The dancers part around them like water. She scowls. He was always too clever for her, always too quick. Even a world of her making bends to accommodate him.

“Do you know what I’ve done to find you?” he asks. “The countries I’ve crossed? The mountains I’ve climbed? I’ve fought gryphons and giants. Searched for treasures lost since the invention of time. Flown to the moon and tunneled to the center of the earth.”

“I’m sure you enjoyed yourself immensely.”

“I bargained with the four winds, gave up my shadow, traded three days of my life just to have this moment with you.”

“I am sorry you wasted your time,” she says. “Do what you will, you cannot take me from here.”

“No,” he agrees. “You are trapped here by your own will, and only by your will can you escape.”

She chose this day well when she arranged her escape. The grandest ball the Mountain King ever held, the day of her sixteenth birthday. Long before she ever met that too-curious trickster who stole away her heart with cheap promises. Here there is music, beauty, bounty, every pleasure she can imagine. She will gladly live in this day forever if it means freedom from her ties to him.

“You think you can persuade me,” she sneers.

He laughs. “No one in the twelve worlds can do that.”

“You think you can steal me.”

Even behind his mask, she can see his gaze darken. She has offended him. “I will not steal a wife.”

“What do you call our wedding day?”

“You chose me.”

“Do you call it choosing, when you hid your true face behind so many lies?”

“You had your own secrets.”

“Do you blame me for hiding them?”

“No,” he says.

She stops. Of all the things she imagined him saying, this was not one of them.

“No,” he says again. “You were right to keep your secrets. I was wrong to seek them out.”

She turns to look at him. He removes his mask, revealing his deceptively young face. His eyes, once blue, have turned greenish-gray. His face has three jagged scars.

“You hid from me,” he said. “As I hid from you. I should have been patient--proved that you could trust me. Instead, I forced my way into your secrets and destroyed everything. I'm sorry.”

She is speechless. She expected excuses. Dazzling explanations.She had never expected contrition.

He reaches beneath his jacket and removes a small glass pendant. It shines the same bright blue his eyes had once been.

“This is yours,” he said.

Her heart. Taken from her in a childhood curse so long ago. Only her husband could put it in its proper place, if it remained unbroken during five years of marriage. Prince of thieves that he once had been, he had found it and broken it on the eve of their second anniversary.

“You repaired it,” she said.

“I replaced it. With mine.”

She has seen him in a million lies. This is not one of them.

“You may stay here if you wish,” he says. “I came only to atone. I do not expect you to forgive me.”

He places the pendant in her hand, bows, then turns away.

When he leaves, she knows she need never see him again.

“Wait,” she says. She removes her mask. “Don’t leave without your wife."

He stops. The other dancers disappear.She puts her hand in his and kisses him as she did on their wedding day.

He is alight with joy as she pulls away. "Does this mean--?"

“I forgive you,” she says.

He laughs aloud.

The heart he gave to her, she freely gives to him. The blue returns to his eyes as their hearts are restored, new and whole.

As the curse crumbles around them, they leave the ballroom behind.

[therewasatale]

midnight practice

On Ao3.

Based on prompt.

It was around midnight, maybe even past midnight, you weren't sure. It didn't matter, time didn't matter.

The moon was up, high between the gray clouds, shining its silver rays on the Gibraltar base and the black waves under the cliffs.

You closed your room's door, and began your search. Watching your every step - especially you tried to put less weight on your left leg - you made your way through the corridors. Most people in the base were already sleeping, but some were still up; you were able to see faint light coming out under Angela's room and there was some dim light in Genji's room too.

The briefing room was occupied by Winston; who always kept an eye on the world and the trouble brewing out there.

Slowly the base started to fill up with life again.  

After a couple of minutes, you've finally arrived to your destination. Before stepping inside the practice range, you were able to hear measured and quick movements.

You opened the door and found Ramattra, alone. As you suspected.

Since he joined, and began helping, he isolated himself after every mission; sometimes just for a couple of hours, sometimes he needed a full day to decompress and think, ready himself for the next fight. Or so did Zenyatta tell you once.

However, this was just accepted by everyone, since he didn't destroy anything or hurt anyone in his isolation. Besides, after the fall of Overwatch and the rise of Talon, every one of you needed to get used to each other all over again.

After a couple of steps, you stopped next to the wall, and just watched him in silence. Practicing with his staff, jumping, kicking the air, perhaps fighting with an imaginary adversary. His every movement were precise, calculated. He was made to be a tool of war, and became a warrior after.

"You should be sleeping."

The sudden words made you flinch, and pain shot up from your left leg at the movement.

"You should be resting." There was a soft scolding in his voice.

He was right, but something didn't let you sleep for the last three days. Since the last encounter with Talon. And it wasn't just your healing leg.

"You're being alone for a long time now, Ramattra."

"I was never, how your kind say it - a people person." Finally, he stopped and turned towards you.

"I know that, but this is different. Even Zenyatta thinks something is off with you." You walked closer to him.

"My brother always worried about everyone, no wonder he ended up in here."

"Maybe, but you don't deny it, do you?" A tiny smile played on your lips as you heard a scoff from the omnic.

"I needed to clear my mind, and meditating didn't always work, it didn't help this time." 

A long moment stretched out between you two, but it wasn't awkward. You wouldn't have been able to tell when it changed into a pleasant silence, but it happened not long after Ramattra joined.

"Is this about the last mission? They managed to steal some data about those omnics, but we will help your people out in King's Row. You know that, right?"

"Yes, I know."

"And we will get de Kuiper out too, somehow. Even if it will get us in a pickle."

"In a pickle?" The omnic tilted his head.

"It's a human saying." You waved it off smiling.

"Ah yes, those idioms, the British girl once tried to teach me some, without even asking if I would like to learn such phrases. I managed to understand the bloody as an expletive attributive, and not the literally means covered in blood."

"Tracer is nice, but I'd say some rural Irish-english is an even bigger challenge."

"I believe you."

You took another step towards him. "So, why are you still here? The last mission went all right."

"The last mission could have been a disaster." His tone suddenly changed to a serious one.

Reading an omnic's faceplate was impossible, sometimes even the tone of their voice was challenging to figure out, but you felt some of Ramattra's. Anger, which he couldn't let go, so he just let it smolder and wake it up to use it at the right place and time.

"How?"

He looked at you, but didn't answer yet. The memoires of that mission came back to him, like they did for the last three days.

"What's bothering you, Ramattra?"

If any other human would have asked him, he would have just left. He didn't owe anyone an explanation. He still couldn't trust any other human. But you were different, over the time in his eyes you became different from the other humans.

"You were here for the last three days, you're making your brother worried, and making me worried as well." Carefully, without much thinking, you reached out and took his hand into yours.

Another long moment went by.

Your chest hammered, waiting for a reaction, or anything that indicates that you did something wrong, or stepped over a line, however, nothing happened.

He just let his hand rest in yours, enjoying a moment of peace.

For the last three days he tried to avoided to cause of his discomfort, tried deny its very existence. He watched your hand; it was smaller than his. Every part of yours were smaller than his; he still remembered how light you felt was when he carried your unconscious body to the dropship, how quickened and shaky your breathing became, and how much he didn't want to let you go from his arms.

For the last three days he tried to suppress those memories, and the feelings that they have awakened in him.

"Ramattra?" You swallowed back your nervousness.

It was no use. He wouldn’t be able to suppress it, He gently creased your fingers.

"The idea of you getting hurt doesn’t sit well with me." He ran his fingers over your hand, up on your arm, shoulder, neck and finally stopped under your chin.

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you let your head tilted up when he gently held your chin, so you could only look at him. "Oh."

Three days ago, on the mission you protected Cassidy's back from a Talon sniper, and on the way, you had an unfortunate meet up with an assassin. It wasn't fatal, thanks to your luck, and a large helping of nanoboost from Ana. But you still ended up with a couple of deep cuts, some lacerations and bruises, even a bullet hole in your leg. Angela has already healed most of your injuries, but some scars will be permanent. It was a small price to pay for protecting a friend.

"I'm all right."

"Yes, and I will make sure you will be in the future too."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Those metallic fingers could have easily crushed your jaw, or every bone of your body if he wanted, and yet instead, they gently creased your skin on your chin and face. For a second, you closed your eyes and leaned against the gentle touch, enjoying the short moment of peace and safety.

He didn't pull away either, instead, he drew a couple of circles at the line of your chin, then just caressed under your eyes.

Finally, the tip of his index finger rested on your nose. Gently booping it once.

"Found something interesting?" You glanced up with a soft chuckle.

"Yes, I've never cared for humans, neither about your words, nor your anatomy. But you make me want to learn about your kin."

"Maybe it's not a bad thing." You placed a tiny kiss on his palm.

Ramattra couldn't help but let out a gentle humm before answering. "Maybe."

"Then how about you walk me to my room, and then I can teach you about anything you'd like to? And you can teach me in turn about your body."

After another tiny kiss you pulled away.

"Sounds intriguing, very well then." He stepped next to you, and let himself being led by you as you took his hand.

Your fingers linked with his, as you two stepped out from the gym.

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

For your wounded heart

Pt.1

Pairing: Mizu x reader

Word count: ~2k

Notes: If there will be interest for it, I'll continue the story, because so far there isn't really a Mizu x reader going on lmfaoo but we'll seeeee

Ps.: Mizu's pronounce is he/him in this part

Here's Part 2

The molten gold disc of the sun slowly crept up the horizon, pouring gray onto the world from the darkness. It rose drowsily, languidly among the tall canopies, leaves lighting up as it projected onto them as thousands of thalers appeared next to the shining disk.

The songbirds ruffled their feathers — ready for the challenges of another day, and sang happily to their companions.

A strong draft escaped from under the wooden door, making the embers of the flickering fire dance before running through your covers.

The sudden cold bit into your skin; grabbing you from the realm of dreams, dragging you back to the world of the living with its icy fingers. You opened your eyes with a terrified sigh; waking up from the warm and caressing dream you pulled yourself under the covers.

Another day, another task ahead of you.

Wearly, you dressed up before trying to gather your belongings, which you would need shortly.

A scalpel, a knife, gloves and a deep basket soon graced your side as you set off into the awakening forest.

Three days ago, you were approached by one of the most influential merchants in town. His wife caught the chills-fever, which her priests had not been able to cure with any of their treatments. Realizing that needles, prayers and incense would not help here, the nobleman visited you the day before, when the noises of the market in the main square seemed to dull down, when you started packing your goods to go home.

It had been a long time since you were last offered such a sum - too long for your liking. Short of money - and because you would have faced the wrath of a powerful man if you refused - you accepted his offer to heal his spouse.

Early in the morning, when the rooster hadn't even crowed, you were already ready to go collect the ingredients for the potion.

The sharp autumn air crawled over your skin, penetrated your bones and breathed newfound strength into your heart. Listening to the soothing soft melody of the forest, you set off towards its thickets, hoping that you would find enough ingredients for your tonics today. Everything was ready to take care of the sick wife- all you had to do was get the hojicha flower, of which you had run out of stock a while ago.

Pulling your cloak tight around your shoulders, you stepped on the wet moss carpet, careful not to slip on the rutted ground. Soon the ground would start to freeze- you thought as you tried to remember which tree trunk you marked, where you should turn right or left to reach your usual harvesting location.

"If I want to have everything in the winter, I have to collect them in time..." You sighed, stepping over a taller ditch. "Maybe I should look at the market to buy seeds and-"

"To the best of my knowledge, you have to go the other way to the nearest market." A harsh, sharp voice spoke from your left.

You immediately screamed and if the cold didn't do it until now — the stranger who suddenly stumbled here had certainly frozen your blood. The pounding of your heart only made it worse as you spun backwards, trying to face the source of the sound. Your foot slipped and you fell to your knees, hitting a wet log while you turned your head trying to find the source of the sound.

After a while, three men appeared in front of you; one from the nearby bushes, while two crept out from behind the cover of the trees; like wild dogs lurking in wait for their prey.

"The lady must be lost, people can disappear quickly in the forest..." The other man nodded with a vile grin, rubbing his palms together while approaching you.

"Certainly, it is not recommended to walk alone in such remote places at the crack of dawn." The third man took over, turning his attention to the basket lying on the floor next to you. “It's better if we accompany you… so no one attacks you.”

"I didn't, I just-" You stammered, but your voice got stuck in your throat as the three strangers walked closer and closer. Their ragged and dirty clothes, their darkly glistening dreadful eyes ruled out that they were simple wanderers.

You ran into bandits on the road, alone, in the middle of the forest. Your heart was pounding in your throat and kept yelling for you to move, escape, run — otherwise you will take your last breath here forever.

Your eyes darted to your overturned basket – deep inside your knife was glinting in a cold light. If you could be fast enough to get it out of there...Fight for your life. You fight or you die.

But instincts were stronger than reason; the Gods opened a third way for you at that moment.

You pushed yourself away with your hands, your heels digging into the ground hard, almost scraping it up as you jumped up to run away like a chased deer. You could barely feel your legs, could barely breathe as you ran through the trees with all your might, jumping over bushes, rocks, and pits. With your heart in your throat, with the sound of the bandits' steps and shouts in your ears, you kept going forward, not even daring to look back.

Your ability to navigate had left you, you didn't even know if you were running towards or away from them, there was just the feeling that you still had to go, still run, still fight. If you stopped you were dead, if you fell you were dead, if they caught up you were dead.

A huge thorn bush appeared in front of you, too high and wide it would have been almost impossible to jump over it, to get around it; so for lack of a better option you tensed your muscles, pulled your neck in, closed your eyes and ran into the branches, shielding your face with your arms.

The pain that ignited in the darkness flashed through you as a hundred and a thousand spikes dug into your exposed skin; then you felt the ground open under your feet, suddenly you began to fall.

You didn't even have time to cry out when you hit the hard ground with your side.

Lying there injured and exhausted, with a bursting heart, you realized that it was all over.

You just sealed your faith.

Panting and choking from crying, you heard the rustling of the bushes behind you, then the trampling of feet.

"Here's the little slut" One of the men chuckled, but the cheering stopped almost immediately.

You did not dare to look up from the ground, did not dare to move; you were left lying on the ground trembling, awaiting death...

But nothing happened.

Another second, but there was only silence, no more footsteps, no giggles, no shouts.

Blinking away the dirt and blood, you looked from behind your lashes and then realized why you were still breathing.

The attention of the three thugs no longer plagued you. They turned almost motionless, to the left, watching ahead of them.

You followed their gaze and saw that you had fallen on a road. On a road where a fourth stranger was now standing in front of you.

A tall, lanky stranger in blue traveling clothes, the bamboo hat he wore pulled low over his face, obscuring his features.

A stranger with a sword in his hand.

Suddenly everything around you seemed to be silent; the chirping of the birds died away, the trees and twigs no longer creaked and cracked, as if the wind itself had stopped to watch the unfolding scene.

Not wanting to break the silence, you stared at the fourth stranger, holding your breath, wondering what would happen now.

Was that your savior ahead of you? Or was he just a wanderer who didn’t care what troubled others, who would only solve his own problems, regardless of if he made others ill-fated? Maybe you got out of the frying pan into the fire?

"There's nothing to see here." The nimblest bandit growled, a rusty knife in hand. "Everybody's minding their own business, right?"

"This matter belongs only to us and this woman, there is no need to cause difficulties for anyone." The largest one with a long mustache spoke slyly, the one closest to you clutched a heavy cudgel in his fist, his knuckles white from the force with which he gripped it.

The blue-clad stranger didn't answer immediately, instead tilting his head to the side, he peeked out from behind the brim of his hat, flashing his yellow-tinted glasses in the light.

"Looking at you, I suspect you are road thugs." The sword bearer spoke, his voice softer than you would have expected. "You rob those who come here." His words didn't seem like a question.

At this, the third man - the fox with a smile, who had a katana, spat down his side stepping forward in front of his companions.

"If you want good for yourself, you turn back or walk past us without another word." He snapped in his raspy voice, grabbing the hilt of his sword as the other two tensed with their weapons as well.

Barely able to handle the shaking and the hitching of your breath, you lifted your torso off the ground with challenge, turning to the blue-cloaked stranger desperately.

"Please…" Your voice trailed off as sobs broke from you. "Don't let me die, please!" Your voice cracked; hot tears washing away the mud and blood from your face. "Help me, please!"

The lanky stranger moved his arm back, revealing the hilt of his sword as he reached towards it with his right hand.

You inhaled through your teeth when you heard the deep clang of metal and clattering footsteps as the bandits charged towards him.

You dropped back down, pulling your knees to your chest as the battle began. Only daring to watch the scene from the cover of your arm.

The swordsman reached first the blue-clad savior, swinging an upward blow from the left, but his sword met another steel.

The man in the hat drew his sword from the sheath with the speed of a viper, breaking the first attack with almost no effort. Before the thug could react to it, the man was already flying to the ground, his legs entangled as the blue clothed one pushed him away to answer the next blow.

The rusty knife reached him second, and while his companion seized the stranger with his blade, he thrusted his knife towards your helper's neck. The cloaked man shoved the katana wielder away with his foot as he turned his torso to the side, the knife still flying towards him mid air.

Taking advantage of the movement, he turned to the right, placing one raised foot in front of the other, cutting across with his blade in front of him.

In a blink of an eye, red rain shot from the arm of the knife-wielding bandit - the sword almost cut his arm off. He staggered with a sharp wail, then fell to the ground, where he continued to shriek.

The one with a cudgel on the other hand did not attack yet, instead he stopped from a decent distance so the sword of the man in blue could not reach him, seemingly considering his next moves.

But this proved to be only a distraction when the first attacker reappeared, this time springing into action behind your savior's back.

The one in blue could hear this, as he turned to the side keeping an eye on both of his attackers, but then the largest started to move suddenly in order to attack at the same time with his other partner.

Seeing the impossible situation, you already had the mental image of the swordsman slashing your savior while the other beat him to death with the heavy club — you whimpered in terror, burying your face in your arms to shield yourself from the sight.

You heard a shout and the clang of steel meeting again, something heavy falling to the ground. A dull, more watery pounding - the cudgel! Bubbling, frothy snoring- a moan of agony and then silence.

You were next, you were sure of that.

Sharp cuts, bone-crushing blows and then slow, lingering death awaits you.

But there was no movement, not even a single grunt from the fight.

Panting, you raised your head to shorten your wait, but you did not find yourself facing the person you were waiting for.

You caught the gaze of the blue-cloaked stranger. You watched with a dry throat and roaring head as he stood over the three bloodied, dying bandits, his sword still clutched in his right hand.

The bamboo hat was no longer on his head, it probably fell off sometime during the fight when you weren't looking, and now was lying at his feet, waiting to be dusted off and put on again.

But instead, the stranger staggered, his knees buckling as he took two steps forward, finally slumping forward onto the ground, leaving you alone in the field of vigilance.

[jjkamochoso]

Flufftober Day 5: Acorn, Chestnut, Pinecone

@flufftober

Fluff

Noritoshi Kamo x gn!reader

Warnings: none

You closed your eyes and sighed contentedly, leaning back against the large tree. The sun shined high in the afternoon sky, its light filtered through the large gray clouds looming overhead. You shivered when a chilly autumn breeze flew through the air and you crossed your arms across your chest in an attempt for warmth.

“Are you cold?”

“Was I being that obvious about it?” you replied as you opened your eyes. Noritoshi extended a hand to help you up and you gratefully accepted it. He quickly took off his jacket, his concerned eyes never leaving yours.

“Here, please take this. I don’t want you catching a cold,” he said, draping his jacket on your shoulders.

You cozied up into the fabric that smelled just like your chivalrous boyfriend. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he responded, taking your hand in his. “Let’s go for a walk. You’ll stay warmer that way.”

You and Noritoshi walked together, silently appreciating the beauty of fall all around you. The crunch of leaves could be heard with every step you each took, the vibrant yellows and oranges creating a volcanic-like explosion underfoot.

“You know, my mother used to ground these up and use them in breads and other dishes this time of year,” Noritoshi observed thoughtfully, picking a few acorns off of the tree in front of you. He slid them into his pocket and resumed your walk.

“Look! A chestnut tree!” you pointed out a few minutes later, excitedly walking toward it. “My mom used to roast these all the time!”

“Isn’t that more of a Christmas tradition?” he asked.

“It is, but they’re so yummy I used to ask for them as often as I could,” you murmured, the happy memories flooding your brain while you collected the nuts. Continuing on, you kept your eyes trained on the different trees you passed by to see what else was interesting enough to catch your attention. Without hesitation, both you and Noritoshi leaned down at the same time.

“Pinecones!” you exclaimed simultaneously, letting out happy giggles at your childlike wonder.

“The beauty of nature never fails to surprise me,” he mused, inspecting the pinecone he picked up. You did the same, taking note of all the fine details offered in its brown, prickly body.

“Should we take some back with us?”

“Do you eat these too?” he asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

“No,” you laughed, “but they’d make for perfect fall decor.”

“I see.”

His face was tinged pink with embarrassment at his assumption but you paid no mind to it, giving him a sweet kiss on his cheek that caused his blush to deepen a few shades darker.

[mad-serotonin]

who are your top ten favorite black clover and ships? talk about them! (welcome back to the fandom, always loved your art)

I’m thinking you meant top 10 CHARACTERS and top 10 ships. Here’s the characters for now! I have another ask for ships and since that’s gonna take me a bit more time to really think about you’ll get those soon with that ask I promise!

My top 10:

1. Finral

Already talked about him in depth so I’ll let everyone else shine here lol

2. Magna

The manliest man. The actual best underdog character in Shonen. Like Tabata knew what he was doing during the Heart kingdom training arc. (Vague manga spoilers for spade arc) Having to work insanely hard to catch up to everyone when they can do something you can’t and finding a way to accomplish something no one else can do????? That’s such a real experience and he’s so admirable.

The literal best friend you could have in this world. He’s so silly and supportive and awesome. Design wise one of my fav character designs ever he’s so sick. I should probably make a solo post about him too cuz I could go deep into his character.

3. Rill

THE ARTIST’S BEST FRIEND!!!! I heart him so much and the approach to his upbringing was so beautiful. His destruction circling around a lack of direction and inspiration for his work is so insanely relatable. And just seeing him be so carefree and happy in battle creating art 😭 I wanna be him.

Winner for the Clover Kingdom’s best laugh. Cutest character design he is so fluffy and pastel. I want to see more of his magic it’s made some of the best battle scenes in the show with just how much freedom there is with its imagery.

He’s so baby I just love him. Also shout out to him for changing the squad name for azure deer from gray deer. I can’t remember if it was explicitly stated but I KNOW that he did that.

4. Asta

The boy of the hour. Honorary spot at #1 because he is the one of the most successfully written Shonen protagonists of his archetype. Really love taking the going for the top motivation and giving a depth to it outside of personal ambition and having the concentration be on changing the world for the better. The purest soul.

Asta is so important. He not only motivates and inspires EVERY. SINGLE. CHARACTER. within the story. But also inspires so many people irl. Like i literally think “would this make Asta proud” when I do stuff sometimes JSJDHDDHHD and it motivates me to get through rough times.

He’s a cutie patootie and he breaks all expectations for what characters would typically do when faced with conflicts like he is. He truly is one of a kind and brings out the best in everyone.

I absolutely love the aspect of his character where he’s literally everyone’s lil brother. He just cares and trusts everyone on his team and fights for them SIMPLY because they are teammates no questions asked. Every time I rewatch the series I just admire the effect he has on their world and how it spreads one step at a time with each adventure. So many things wouldn’t have been possible without him being himself in situations and setting people straight in understanding their world. (This fact stands true even if not considering the anti magic as a factor. It’s all him baby.)

5. Langris

UGHHHHH I could write another essay but I shan’t. He is such a wonderfully complex character who has been so forcefully shaped into a figurehead of a group that represents strength, giving him such a terrible egotistical, yet self loathing view of himself. And despite all of it he genuinely wants to love and be loved outside of those factors. He’s just a very confused kid who needs genuine support instead of ego-feeding elitist parents HDHDHDH.

I’m very passionate about him. And I am SO PROUD of his character development through the story. Especially with his relationship with Finral. (I will for sure write a whole separate essay discussing them sometime soon). He was written so well both in his antagonistic position which in my eyes was very much mostly out of his control (not completely he’s not totally excused ✋🏻). Seeing him make genuine effort to change his outlook and behavior to rebuild a healthy sibling relationship, to support his brother and motivate him to improve himself as well, AND to remove himself from a position of high status when he knows he’s no longer the one suited for it really just proves how much he has grown. His complexity in his character just makes him so interesting and I want to see him and Finral team up more please I beg there was not enough. HAHSHSHS

6. Luck

I always loved Luck’s story and the exploration on his ability to express his emotions as time goes on is so good. Like the elf battle always makes me SOB he’s so good. I genuinely am obsessed with his friendship with Magna they are the best duo ever. He’s such a lil weirdo and his antics are just so perfectly lil brother energy to the rest of the squad. I will say Tabata had PEAK WRITING with his unwavering fear in battle that made the perfect set up for the seriousness of the Spade arc when they show him not wanting to fight ABSOLUTELY beautiful setup and reward right there. He’s a baby boy who doesn’t need to be protected but I want to anyways.

7. Klaus

OUR 👏🏻 KING 👏🏻 OF 👏🏻 CHARACTER 👏🏻 GROWTH👏🏻! Literally perfection how this man goes from prickly noble to Asta and Yuno’s number 1 fan. He has the perfect older brother energy and really became just an absolute sweetheart. I adore his support for Asta so much it always makes me laugh when they pan to him doing some weird stuff in hopes that it helps him out.

His magic is also so cool and damn I wish Tabata would give him some more badass spells because he could do SO MUCH. Give him a suit of magic armor mayhaps idk but it’s such a fun magic for him. Also design wise I love his hair and his features are just so pleasing. ESPECIALLY during the elf arc my god he looked like a model. I just think he’s very pretty HDHXHDHD. BUT YES an absolute king and deserves all the love.

8. Mars

Oooooo we need more of him in the manga. I swear the coolest dudes are underutilized this man is so sick. I love Mars’ story and I’m so glad that he reocurred in the story the way he did. He was really the perfect set up for the diamond kingdom being in the plot at all. But he himself. AN ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART he’s so good. He and Fana are precious together and I really admire his strength and commitment to his goals throughout his whole story. He had some of the coolest magic and I desperately need a Mars and Asta team up with their massive swords.

One of the best character designs from silhouette, outfit, colors and all. He is very handsome and just a cool dude overall. Y’all need to make more fan art of him I don’t see enough. I’ll make some too I promise.

9. Leopold

The king of not being in the story enough. For REAL he is so powerful and cool and he’s one of Asta’s rivals too I NEED a triple team up of him asta and yuno it would be FIRE absolute pun intended hehe

I love how straightforward he is, he’s so motivated and such a strong mage. I hope he gets to lead the crimson lions one day he absolutely deserves the position. He is the best friend of best friends. Being supportive of Asta from the start and being one of the least “noble” of all the other squads immediately solidified him as a favorite to me. And he just continued to kick butt and be a cool lad. His power is fun and I desperately wanna see him make full blown fire tornadoes NSHXHDH it would be SICK. but yeAH he is such an awesome character and a perfect rival and I think he deserves more screen time. I will for sure be drawing him again soon.

10. Yami

That’s our DAD 🫵🏻

God I will say this with all the confidence in the world he is the BEST WRITTEN DANG TEAM LEADER in Shonen. Like Tabata really said let this silly goofy man rescue all of these outcasts and be their dad and help them grow and I cannot handle any moment from any character without thinking about Yami’s influence. HE HAS DONE SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE.

The smartest idea ever translated from brain to paper was making this man a walking poop joke. LIKE INGENIOUS. I always find it funny and I always will. Make this absolute badass a true dad. He poop and he make bad joke. Honestly the funniest character.

His story from what I’ve gotten to is so interesting. It was so worth the wait to get to see more about him but even so his story just in the clover kingdom is so wonderful. I love how he really sets up the themes Asta stands for before he even gets to the squad. Where all of the change in the kingdom that happens wouldn’t have been done without him (a foreigner) and his whole team of unloved and unwanted individuals who were seen as worthless. Literally showing the world how wrong they are. Yami is best dad and he always will be.

Special shout out to William, Vanessa, and Gordon they deserve to be up here. Also David cuz I think he’s pretty and I love his magic but he is SO background character it hurts.

In the end I would have loved to talk about more of them but It’s hard picking favorites with this show. Literally everyone is written so well and I love them.

Thank you for the ask sorry if i went on a tangent a couple times LOL

[ataraxiaspainting]

Fly Me to the Moon.

Yan Jingliu x F Reader.

Synopsis: “You looked at me like I was made of stardust, and told me that even the moon above us could not compare to the brightness in my eyes.”

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

i’m so sorry if i’m wrong about xianzhou landscapes lol…

*~*~*~*

The Xianzhou Luofu’s eclipses are as rare as someone who can walk on water.

Moons come and go across the Flagships’ skies as they make their way throughout the galaxy, and so do the suns. They all change from pink to red to gray, and none of them stay for long. Unlike what the Abundance teaches its creations, life has its way of teaching that nothing lasts forever. Permanence is but a fantasy and only those who are blind fools seek out such a blasphemous dream.

But if it is a blind fool you must be to see her whole for the first time, you will gladly be one.

You met just a fragment of her oh so long ago, under the very covered sun that was oh so rare. You dared not to look away from her as she moved towards you like clockwork, her sword dragging across flowered ground. The moon was white, and so were the blossoms. So was her hair, which looked like a bundle of shooting stars. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown either. An expression as neutral as water.

She had a black blindfold over her eyes that had the sign of a crescent moon.

To you, she was brighter than the eclipse above.

You two moved together in a circle, a cautious waltz, but also an enticed one. Curiosity.

“You are a Cloud Knight, aren’t you?” She asked. The grip on her blade’s handle loosened just slightly. “I can tell by the spear you hold.”

You nodded, and a chuckle quieter than the gentlest wind escaped her lips.

You took a step backward as she took one forward. It was not out of fear but at the very least well-meant care—a dance crafted from years of training under daylight and starlight.

…

Now, hundreds of moons later, you take a step backward as she now takes three forward. Fear controls you like a puppet as you point your spear, which has by this point been remodeled and repaired from many battles with the Abominations of the Abundance. Daylight and starlight become one with the same snow-white eclipse in the sky.

She is smiling. Her sword no longer glides along sprouted soil, but a stone path painted with the blood of your fellow soldiers. Her blindfold is off, her eyes the very image of a hollow, depraved husk. Mara.

She does not chuckle when your hands shake, but rather she loudly laughs.

It is the farthest thing from gentle.

…

Jingliu has many presences, but none of them last for very long. Some stay for a week at most without issue, but those are rare and so far distanced from one another. She lets you leave, most days, to go buy tea from the market or to go sit down and feed the birds or to let you practice aiming your weapon at the training dummy she placed outside your living quarters. 

When she first brought you here, she told you that you are free to duel her whenever you wish. Win, she said, and you can leave whenever you wish too.

The only thing is you can never manage to even touch her.

The uncharted areas around the cottage she acquired for both of you are dark, and the only places where there is light are the ones that have straight and narrow paths, paths to the few places Jingliu allows you to go unsupervised. Or is the definition of unsupervised in Jingliu’s world is to have you watched from a few kilometers back?

You cannot tell. Nor do you want to know the answer, because you know the truth will stomp on your hope like it was a lowly insect.

You also don’t walk alone at night for reasons like those. You cannot see anything, only hear and think.

You cannot see Jingliu if she is watching you from behind.

Even though she swears on her honor that she does not follow you closely.

You can hear Jingliu’s breathing though, how desperate she can sound, or how calm she can sound. It all depends on what moon shines through the brightest.

…

Meals with Jingliu are always the same.

No matter what her mood is at that particular moment, she always stares at you from across the table.

Sometimes her hair is well-kept, on days when she is happier and more active in her self-care. Sometimes she bats her eyes at you. Sometimes she seems to stare past you, to the unlit fireplace or the vase of flowers near the entrance door. Her stares can turn into glares in an instant, or her glares can turn into loving gazes. You wish most days that she wouldn’t be so distant, but you don’t want her to be suffocating with her affection either.

You just want the best of both worlds. An eclipse.

“How is it?”

Your attention is abruptly captured. Her gaze appears slightly less serene yet intensifies, while yours remains filled with doubt. Your hand ceases the motion of guiding the fork towards your mouth, descending listlessly onto the table.

“Is something the matter, [First]?” Genuine confusion on both of your parts.

“...N-No.” As you lower your gaze and gently shut your eyelids, your whole body quivers uncontrollably, leaving you powerless over its movements. “It’s good.”

“Are you sure?” Your gaze evades her as if being controlled by a small prey animal’s instinct. Your heart races, as if on the verge of a sudden collapse. “You can tell me if something is wrong with the food.”

Your fingers interlock with such force that you fear they might leave imprints on your skin.

“No, no… it’s good, really.”

She tilts her head. “You aren’t eating, though.” You hear the sound of a chair being dragged, a sure sign that she is standing up. “You can be truthful with me, dearest. I won’t be upset.”

Gazing out the window, you offer no response. The sound of her sigh reaches your ears, yet your focus lies elsewhere. A single leaf gracefully twirls upon the surface of the nearby pond, without a care in the world. You hope it will not drown.

[lucentclan]

well! i wasnt expecting this-

I wrote a little snippit for this that I'll put it under the cut, I'm so upset over them you have no idea

despite the war between Lucentclan and Fernclan being over, Newtstar decides that he, Pepperflare, and Violethope will go patrol the borders one last time before the sun goes down. They don't realize the scent of rain or the clouds forming in the distance, as they're crossing the beach, rain begins falling heavily and weighing down their pelts.

"Newtstar!" Pepperflare calls over the now howling wind, anxiety pricking in her paws as the rain brings back unwanted memories of Sablepaw being washed away in a flood four moons ago. "We should really go back to camp! I don't have a good feeling about this."

Newtstars ears flick in acknowledgement, "we need to be sure that Fernclan isn't up to anything. I won't lose anymore cats to those fox-hearts!" He argues back, claws digging into the sand as he thinks of their previous medicine cat, Rippleclaw.

"No sane cat will be out in this weather!" Pepperflare insists, "Especially Fernclan cats! They hate water!"

"I agree with Pepp-" Violethope begins, her meow quickly cut off by a deafening crash and flash of lightning. In the distance, the sound of trees cracking and breaking echo down the mountains.

All three clancats freeze, heads snapping to the horizon where they see a massive wave of water quickly making its way down the hill, rocks, trees, and other natural debris coming along with it. The clancats barely have time to process what was happening before the water reaches them and sweeps them off their paws and into the unforgiving ocean. Their lungs fill with freezing saltwater as they cry out for starclan to save them to no avail.

Newtstar is the first to open his eyes, the yellow a sharp contrast to the darkness around him. Stars now shine in his pelt, and reflect in his eyes as he takes in the vaguely familiar area. He had been here when he lost his first life protecting his clan from a dog the same moon Rippleclaw had been found dead on Fernclans border. It had been nice to see the tom again to be assured that he wouldn't be alone, their starclan guide, and Newtstars own kin, Shardfoam being there to keep him company.

He sits and sighs, watching the water drip from is glimmering pelt and dissappear into the stars beneath his paws. He couldn't help but feel as if he had let his clan down.

Pepperflare and Violethope join him soon, appearing with splashes of salt water and gasping breaths that didn't take any oxygen. The she-cats meet eyes for a moment, confused as they look towards their leader.

They realize the stars at the same time, dismay filling them. Quietly, they step forward to sit beside their leader in quiet mourning.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way," A familiar voice says, a cream tabby tom stepping into sight. Sympathy reflecting in his grey eyes as he looks at the warriors. Beside the medicine cat is a younger spotted gray apprentice, Sablepaw, who is looking at them with the same sympathetic look.

"Rippleclaw! Sablepaw!" Newstar cries, standing. "Whats going on? We can't actually be dead, right? What about my other seven lives?" The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, needing answers. Beside him, Pepperflare tries to speak but just hacks up a mouthful of water. Violethope remains quiet.

Rippleclaw sighs, "Unfortunately there was no way for starclan to bring your body back, it was washed too far out to sea for it to be possible." He steps to the side, the area behind him now streching out into a vast area, stars littering ground. This was starclans hunting grounds. The medicine cat dips his head, tears in his eyes as his friends try to process their deaths, "Welcome to starclan, my friends. Here you can watch over and guide Lucentclan."

Down below the sky, Quailcall sits outside the medicine den, blue eyes watching the entrance of the camp. It's been far too long since the patrol had left, and the elder was starting to get a bad feeling. He looks up at the dark clouds as it stormed and shakes out his pelt before standing and turning to enter the den.

Sparkfire lays in a nest against the far wall, curled up tightly as she sleeps through the infection in her wounds. The she-cat twitches and whimpers in her sleep, shifting slightly. The tom silently makes his way to sit beside the nest, watching the slow rise and fall of Sparkfires back, half expecting it to stop at any moment.

Quailcall looks towards the entrance of the den once more, dread filling his belly. "Starclan help us." He says quietly before curling up close to the deputy and shuts his eyes in an attempt to sleep until the patrol returns.

sorry for the short fic but i wanted to write for this moon soo bad and got carried away.

What will Sparkfire and Quailcall do now?

[soliarus]

Thoughts Of You

-fluff, hangover, dahyun acting like a hopeless lesbian!! implied relationship

: hangover or not Dahyun's mind never ceases to stop racing, especially about you

words 684

non-idol!dahyun x fem!reader

Through the open window, a soft breeze wafted into the room, it welcomed a nice shine of light which gladly took its place, laying a sunny streak over Dahyun’s sleeping face. As pretty as she looked with the sun shining on her face, she didn’t seem to like it much. If the groan was anything to go by, and the whine as she turns to face the other way, shifting around on the bed. 

Fuck the sun. I’m tired n wanna sleep. Head hurts. Where is she? 

A giggle rings through her head, the sound pounding off the walls of her brain. Another groan, and although her eyes are closed she feels around the bed, looking for something or rather someone. Another giggle echoes in her head, and Dahyun has to adjust her eyes, taking in the empty white sheets around her. 

Mmmm, actually this breeze feels nice. But, where is she???

She turns back over, and her head hurts, it aches terribly, but she wants you first. You’re sitting next to the same damn window that woke her up, in a plain white tee and a pair of light gray sweatpants. Criss-cross on a large beanbag, work laptop on your lap, with your reading glass on. You tilt your head at her, waiting for her to come to her senses, even if it was just a little bit. 

Shit that’s hot for no reason. Say something, c’mon, say something.

“Good Morning” Dahyun mumbles, more like grumbles, into silence, this time you hold back your laugh, biting your lip. Getting up and walking towards her, you softly run your hand through her tangled hair. Dahyun leans closer towards the touch. 

“Good morning to you too,” you whisper softly, “even if it’s four in the afternoon”. Dahyun huffs, closing her eyes to bear the pain grunting as you help her sit up against the headboard. You place a glass of water against her lips, and then hand her some painkillers. Dahyun’s eyes furrow, she swallowed the pills with difficulty, tilting her head back felt horrible and when she did it felt like her brain moved in her head, worsening this already unbearable ache. 

Never drinking again, ever. Not happening, no matter what. But this treatment is to die for… a pretty girl, with pretty hair, n pretty eyes, my pretty-

“I know baby, it aches, but you did such a good job,” you praise her and leave a quick kiss on her cheek. She smiles, almost in bliss, she thinks that if she gets enough kisses from you, you’d be able to cure this horrible hangover. 

More please, kiss me more, praise me more. M’like it, more please. 

“I’ll get you something to eat, be right back,” you assure her before stepping out of the room. 

nooooo come baaaack

And you do, holding a bowl of warm Miso soup, you sit on the edge of the bed, you mix the soup with the spoon, before lifting it up to feed Dahyun. The girl blushes, and she lifts her hand, “It’s okay, you don’t have to feed me”. You smile, your eyes pointing towards her lifted hand, it’s shaking, “oh”. And Dahyun quickly puts her hand back down, her blush reaching her ears. 

That was so fucking embarrassing. 

“You’re cute,” you mumble, feeding her. Dahyun has to grip the sheets to brace herself. 

No u. 

“Where did you order the soup from anyway?” Dahyun tries to make light conversation, but your sudden frown makes her want to bury herself. “Doesn’t taste good enough?”

Fuck Dahyun, you desperate gay freak! You made her sad! 

“S-sorry! It’s just really good! Like the best soup I’ve ever had! Literally at the top of my list now! Just wanted to know where you got it cuz it’s that good-” Dahyun truthfully rambles. You blush, looking away, a soft smile on your lips as you tug a piece of hair behind your ears. It’s like Dahyun is falling more in love with each passing second. “I made it myself, actually; I’m glad you like it,” Dahyun beams. 

Dahyun, you smart bitch! 

[the-possum-writes]

can you do a marshall lee x male reader where he turns the reader into a vampire?

Vampire Bite

❥Character: Marshall Lee

❥Tags: sfw, established relationship, vampirism, comfort, male!reader

❥Synopsis: After sharing your human lifetime with Marshall Lee, you decided to take the next step in your relationship and seal the deal.

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards @foxpearlwilder

Marshall doesn't usually walk on land, but he's making an exception today as he pushes an elderly man in a wheelchair, the sun is still shining, and he's dressed appropriately in long gloves, a sunhat, and sunglasses.

"It's a beautiful day today, not a cloud in the sky." You smile tenderly as you take in the landscape around you.

"Yeah, we're fortunate." Marshall agrees, despite how vulnerable and exposed he feels, but he repeatedly tells himself that it's a special occasion.

He drives you down a wooden walkway that has deteriorated due to time and constant salty mist, but it is still stable enough to support your weight as he floats and pushes you instead. "Whoops," he says as the wheel collides with a rock. For a split second, you jump, readjusting yourself on the chair as your wrinkly hands fix the blanket on your lap.

"Wouldn't it be easier if you flew us there?" Marshall shakes his head when you bring it up.

"It's better this way; let's not rush it." he insists.

"If you say so." You drop the subject, taking his word for it, and enjoy the birds flying in the sunlight. The wooden walkway eventually turns into a dock, and you hear ocean waves crash against the wooden pillars; your eyesight has been failing you recently, but there's no denying the cool breeze against your skin and the enormous sun resting near the horizon.

"Marshall, look! We made it just in time!" As you point to the sunset, you jolt up excitedly, your voice gave out, and you soon found yourself coughing.

"I wouldn't want you to drown in your spit after walking you all the way here, so take it easy." He gives you a gentle pat on the back.

"That'd be a real bummer. Then again, Marsh, I do appreciate you doing this for me." Even though you have a few missing teeth, you give him a huge smile as your eyes squint up.

Marshall knows this is the same guy he fell in love with and refused to let go, no matter how many human years have passed and how much you have changed over the years. This fleeting mortality, though limited, is beautiful in his eyes, just as you are. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he says as he pats your shoulder. A kiss on the cheek would be more appropriate, but he doesn't want to get sunburned.

As the two of you reach the end of the dock, the vampire stops pushing your wheelchair and makes sure you're comfortable by plumping your pillow and covering you with your blanket. As he floats over your lap (to avoid hurting your legs), you extend your arms and hug him as if he were sitting on you. After that, the two of you don't say much, instead letting the sun hang loosely over the horizon as its last rays of sunlight reflect over the waves. A few minutes later, Marshall leaned into your shoulder, but when he felt your chest flutter, he turned to look at you and saw that you were quietly crying as the sun completely set.

"It's so pretty..." you mutter, sobbing softly.

"There's still time to go back," he says quietly, wiping your tears away with his cold gray fingertips.

You respond with a smile, rubbing your eyes. "I'm not changing my mind; I'm just glad to have shared my last sunset with you." With the sun gone, Marshall removed his hat and gloves to properly give you a comforting kiss on the lips, resting his forehead on yours as he says. "...I just want to give you the options I never had," he says, and you agree with him. The title of Vampire King was not something he chose, and what's to give you the opportunity to decline if you suddenly reconsidered.

But you made up your mind long ago.

"Will it hurt?" you ask, determined but nervously offering your neck to him.

"I'll try to make it quick... Like a hospital injection "He promises, softly kissing your neck.

"Glob, I hate injections." You huff, trying to relax.

"I know."

You jolt up in your seat as Marshall pierced your flesh and tried to keep you in place. Although it was quick, as Marshall said, your limbs gradually became cold, much like when your blanket fell off your bed in the winter. Sooner or later, your heart rate slows down, almost as if you're falling asleep. When you wake up, the world seems lighter; you're surprised to discover that this is because you're only a few feet off the ground, which causes you to panic. "Easy there, I got'cha!" You hear Marshall Lee's voice coming from the night sky and feel his hand grabbing your own.

Even though it's dark, you can see clearly without a light source, which is when you notice your hand's lack of wrinkles. Looking down at your body and touching your face to see how you unconsciously transformed yourself back to when you were the most comfortable in your mid 20's, no longer tired or with sore knees.

"I feel like I'm going to fly away like a balloon!" You sob, clutching Marshall like a lifeline.

Marshall's chest vibrates in laughter, securing you in his arms. "Relax, I'm a good teacher. I'll show you everything about being a vampire, for free." he winks.

"Are you sure? I'm a slow learner." you jest.

"Oh I'm sure, more than ever!"

[goodpointsandbadpoints]

OOH 19 PLS !!! (not sure if you want ships but my brain went to Nivannedy first 👀)

prompt 19: a kiss during a fake relationship

hello! hehehe nivannedy it is! Also, I know I took some liberties with the prompt. I know I did. Please forgive me 😂. This is not the conventional fake relationship stuff, but... you'll see.

tags: hurt/comfort; broken bones; blood; panic; recovery.

-

He keeps swiping at the rain running down his forehead. It was sprinkling softly all morning, from the moment they touched down onto wet grass, armed and ready.

“Leon?” he calls again. 

The house is somehow standing. He steps away from the body of the creature where it cools on the ground, and turns to the building. There’s a hole where smooth, unbroken paneling had been before—taller than Piers, wider than the two of them side by side—and he crosses the threshold of it to get inside. His rifle is somewhere around here. He doesn’t need it. 

The hole in the floor stares up at him. 

He drops down the short gap to the basement floor, and the wooden studs and joists bent and broken-in splintered ends are around him. This all happened a hours ago, so it’s had time to soak and settle. There are puddles on the floor from where the rain had found its way in—sideways and ceaseless all last night and into the morning, silvering streaks of it pooling in dark shapes on the ground. 

It’s dark down here, and too quiet. 

He wonders why here, of all places, and why now. That thing had gotten out of control and taken them across fields where it shouldn’t have gone.

The house had basically disintegrated wherever the creature touched. It tore through walls and cabinetry and furniture like they were nothing. He follows the torn trail through the place. Around a busted wall, beams showing, towards the back corner. 

“Leon?” 

It crosses his mind, not for the first time, that Leon might not have made it out of his chase. Piers tried to lead the thing out of the dead end of the house, down where it had run to the basement on Leon’s heels, but—

There’s a sound from the dark, and he’s breathless. 

“Piers.” 

“I’m here,” he says immediately. He stumbles over fragments of a chair and the torn-up edge of a carpet, turning in place. “Talk to me, Lee, where are you?” 

“Back here.” 

Back along the basement wall, along cool concrete wrapping around to hold them in the earth, there’s a body on the floor. He’s behind an overturned washing machine wrenched from the wall. Torn hoses hang from the back of it, bleeding water in shallow puddles on the ground. 

Piers runs there. He’s heavy with rain and gear, but he feels weightless as he gets down on his knees. 

“Hey.” 

Leon, breathing, looking up at him and laying on his back. 

“Hey, yourself,” Leon says. His teeth are the brightest thing on his face. His eyes are shining slivers only for a moment before they close. He’s filthy with mud. 

And of course, even now, he’s trying to smile.

Piers checks him over from head to toe. “How’s the damage?” 

“Ah,” Leon says, somewhat conversationally. “Leg’s busted.” 

Piers blinks through it, the stinging and endless run of rain into his eyes. It blurs his vision as he tries to get a better look at Leon’s leg, and wonders where his flashlight had gotten knocked off. God, they were both busted. 

He roughly drags his sleeve over his eyes, and when he blinks down again, he can see the clear lines of Leon’s leg on the ground. Bent to the side, the line interrupted just enough to make his gut turn. “Shit.”

“Doesn’t hurt.” 

Leon must have been thrown at a wall, or through it, or stepped on, or some other split-second thing that left him breathless and stuck on the ground all this time. But Piers is here now, and there’s pickup coming for them soon.

“Piers.” 

Around him, the broken walls don’t hide the thunder booming above. It’s far away, two soft claps of it that rumble and dissipate into the gray sky. Rain doesn’t hit them straight on down here, but he hears it start to pick up on the roof.

They each have splints in their vests. He reaches into a side pocket for his now, the flat piece of it that he can barely feel through his gloves. Then something touches his face, and he flinches. 

“Piers.” 

Leon is looking at him. Piers realizes belatedly that the thing on his face is Leon’s hand, and it’s trying to get ahold of his cheek. 

“Enough, Leon,” he says. His voice is low.

Everything in here is dark. The rain-heavy dimness around them, a house with no lights on, Leon’s wet and torn uniform on the carpet littered with debris. Yet Leon’s still trying to lighten it with a fucking joke, like they’re back at the beginning of this operation all over again.

“We can be done with that,” he says. 

Leon’s face hardens. For a moment, Piers thinks he’ll lie back again and let him work. But the man only pulls back to strip off his gloves, tugging them harshly one at a time to lose them on the ground, then he’s pulling Piers down by his body armor.

“You’re bleeding,” he says. 

Piers goes still where he had been fiddling with the splint. The sting in his eyes makes a bit more sense—could have easily been rainwater, full of dirt and metal and whatever else had run off of the house onto him. But he’d taken a swipe at some point. 

Leon carefully prods at his forehead. His fingers push and hold, and his right hand comes away bloody when he reaches down to his own vest. Chem spray in the pocket, slid out and uncapped with his teeth, and then Leon covers Piers’ eye with his other hand. Neither of them say anything through the spray-hiss of it on skin. 

When it’s done, Piers quietly begins bending the splint with his hands. He goes to press the molded shape to Leon’s leg, but the man’s hand tightens painfully in his collar. 

“Good?” Piers asks, glancing at him.

His teeth are gritted together, slightly bared, and he takes harsh breaths through his nose. “Just do it— jesus, Piers, fuck.” 

He does. 

It’s worse to wrap it. He has to raise Leon’s heel enough to pass the bandage underneath, and the motion makes Leon groan tightly.

“Almost done, almost,” Piers promises. He works quickly, passing over and under and bringing out the white shape of a wrapped leg, until he can fasten the end on. He tests the tightness one more time, trying not to rush. Leon’s pained breathing saws at his side. “Alright…” 

That’s the best he can do until they get picked up. He sits back and checks his work—once, then again, checking the shape and the straightness, probably not enough—until the sound of a hiccup pulls him back out. 

Leon’s grimace has fallen apart into something else. His mouth opens and shudders, chest rising to take a deep breath. 

“Hey,” Piers says. His gloves suddenly feel damp on his hands, and he struggles out of them. “Hey, Lee, take a breath.” 

Leon lets out a gasping, warbling sound. 

“I’m still here.” He feels Leon clawing for him, a hand at the edge of his armor on his side, the other for his sleeve, and he lets him. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Dim, filtered light, but he can see the tear tracks through dirt up close, the faint trail across skin and crease and his hairline. He sits there and lets Leon find an anchor as he panics. 

And he shouldn’t be wandering there, thinking about it. He should be listening for helicopter rotors and figuring out how to get Leon onto the porch, but instead he thinks about every time Leon must have been in a place like this but worse—alone, darker, quieter, more bruised and bent than this, maybe bleeding. How any times had he been left to shed tears on his own?

Piers will hold him through this one. 

He cradles the back of Leon’s head with one hand, the other settling over his heart. They sit there as long as they need to. 

Eventually, the gasping becomes steadying gulps for air, and Leon’s hands twisted in his uniform ease up. They don’t let go, though. He hangs onto Piers and stares up at the ceiling. 

One more deep breath, and then, “We made it,” he says, gravel. 

Piers shuts his eyes, lets his head fall forward between his shoulders, and sighs. The man—with his bullshit jokes and no sense of timing—just holds onto him even as he leans down. He doesn’t care about the mud or the scratches or the fucking rainwater as he kisses his head.  

He presses his lips there twice. The dirt is gritty.

“We need to get you up,” he says. He kisses above his eyebrow. “You think you can stand?” 

Leon is gripping his sleeve tight with his nails. When Piers sits up, Leon’s eyes are closed. He barely nods.

“Okay. They should be here soon.” 

Maybe everything they had done up until now was strategic, a tactical edge on the operative blade, but he can’t let it be anymore. He shuts his eyes and stays there. The weight of Leon in his arms means something, and the sharp breath at the tail end of his crying means something.

"Wait," Leon says.

Piers settles back onto his heels and hums in answer. The hands shift to hold him back—his shoulder and the slope of his neck—and Leon makes him come back down. He doesn't expect it when brings their mouths together.

A moment, just a breath of it, relief. Then Leon tucks himself under Piers to hug him close.

Forehead throbbing lightly, arms wrapped as far around Leon as he can manage, Piers just breathes. They made it.

(read on ao3)

[anonymousdisco]

How’d I get Isikaid into Yandere Obey me Chapter Two: Planning

(Y/N) POV:

    As I walked my new screen companion followed me around as I finished figuring out where everything was in my room. “So… can anyone else see you? Do you even… have a name?” I asked curiosity brimming up as I adjusted to my new life here.

    The screen brightened as if happy to be asked and explained, “No one can see me except for you, User! Or hear me for that matter. But if you think loud enough I can hear your thoughts, only if you want me to of course. And I don’t have a name yet till you give me one.” It hovered around me sporadically clearly wanting a name now.

    “Um… You seem hyper and fast so I guess I’ll you Bullet.” I reason wanting to laugh as it glows slightly red clearly its way of showing upset emotion. “I’m just kidding your names Glitch cause you’re going to make me overpowered in this plot like a glitch does in a game.” The redness of the screen dims to a pink and I take this as it being shy and happy. “Now what should I wear…? I want to seem innocent, but I don’t want to be too obvious.”

    “How about wearing the trending style in Devildom, but a bit muted. School uniforms allow a lot of customization here. And no one really pays attention to you yet so you can make it whatever you want and no one will notice the difference.” Glitch advised me.

    “That’s smart lil glitchy.” I grab the uniform and quickly make my adjustments. I add fishnets in a subtle gray color with slight tears in them, and added a black belt with studs to the middle section. I look at the uniform itself and tilt the student council band disliking how perfect and straight it looked before. I shortened the skirt half an inch to make my legs look longer, and add a leather purse I can hang over my shoulder to carry my school supplies. I as a finishing touch add a pair of thigh highs with heels in leather to match the purse with slight studs to mimic the belts style. Nodding to myself in satisfaction I do a light makeup look with a brown muted smoky eye and a small winged black eyeliner. Finishing it all up with a simple lipstick in my most favorable shade to match my skin tone. To nod at the innocent aura I wanted I added pictails with some of the hair down framing my face and making me look adorable rather than edgy.

    Glitch hovered in front of me. “Your good at this.”

    “Thanks glitch. I use to have to adjust my clothing constantly since my parents didn’t drench me with money like they did my sister. This time though I’ll have seven dear big brothers to spoil me rotten by the time I’m done.” I smirk feeling mischievous. It was my time to shine now. “But how to make the hardest one fall. Mr. I have pride won’t be easy to make fall. I’m still his sister at the end of the day though, and he does have an overprotective attitude to his siblings.” I feel excited as my plan comes together. “All I need to do is seem lonely and isolated in a way that leads me to be in a situation where I’m physically injured in what an overprotective big brother would find life threatening. A broken arm, and maybe a rib should do the trick!”

    Glitch glows gray and vibrates nervously. “Your going to get injured?!”

    “In the backstory you mentioned bullies. And what good are bullies for if you can’t use them for manipulation. This way I get rid of the bullies, Lucifer falls the first step, and all my other new big brothers follow suit after seeing poor innocent me hurt because of their lack of care. It’ll be easy, but first I have to get some notice on the student council, and I have the perfect plan for that!” 

    I rush over to my desk before school starts and fill out an envelope of an anonymous school suggestion form and make sure it looks slightly different from the rest. If the timeline was right then this would be perfect. I go to school getting there early and wait in the student council room patiently filling out forms and paperwork.

Diavolo’s POV:

    I enter the student council room in a hurry a bit behind since I tried to escape working today, but couldn’t under Barbatos’s careful watch. I look into the room shocked someone was already there as I see someone. Who was that girl again…? (Wrong name similar to yours)? Perhaps (other wrong name)? “Good morning…” I pause awkwardly given I can’t remember her name. We had never been alone before so I never really paid attention to her much.

    “(Y/N). Good morning, Lord Diavolo. I hope you had an uneventful morning.” She smiled pleasantly seeming to be unoffended by my lack of recall.

    She goes back to what she was doing and I notice it was the daily morning paperwork. She was… sorting it in level of importance on everyone’s desk, as well as compiling notes of the more complex areas. “I thought… Barbatos did that.”

    She seemed a bit shy and embarrassed.  “I do actually…. It’s one of the few ways my help isn’t… viewed as unnecessary.” She quickly finished everything before scanning it all a final time. “I’m done so I’m going to go to the library, unless you need me for anything?”

   “I’m alright. Have fun studying.” I watched her leave. There was something about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it but she seemed sweet and quiet. I felt my face heat up as I thought of her (H/L) (H/C) in those cute lil pictails. Her eyes though… were a deep lonely (E/C). They felt reminiscent of my own loneliness. Maybe… she too needed a friend.

    “Barbatos.” He appeared before me quietly. “Follow her around today. Figure out why she so… shy and lonely looking. She’s too lovely and cute to be allowed to stay so sad. I want the reason eliminated.” I didn’t know why I felt such sudden rage at the thought of her sadness, but I wanted the reason dead and gone.

    Barbatos bowed. “Yes, young master Diavolo.”